Friday, July 20, 2012
Dark Night Rises
Just got home from the theater and wanted to know what y'all thought of it. im too tired to write up my entire opinion atm, but overall i'd say enjoyable but kinda disappointing.
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
"simply a product of the mind, senator."
This morning my mind was wandering in the shower. I came to thinking of how I never called Domino's to tell them I wasn't working this summer, and I felt kind of bad about it, because I liked the people I worked with. This got me to thinking about how I'm probably not going to work at JVS (the work-study place downtown where adrian and i always tutored) in the fall. The secretary over there is an awesome old black lady named Vanessa, and she was always excited to see me when I was there. It was kind of like having a cool black grandma. But anyways, I was thinking that since I'm not working there, I'm probably never going to see her again, and I should send her an email of some kind. I'm not sure exactly what it would say, I'm not very good with goodbye skills (hence the Domino's situation). Probably something to the effect of "I'm never going to see you again but it was really cool knowing you so have a nice life." I'd have to word it a lot better though.
I got out of the shower, dried my balls, and remembered that we were out of milk. Throwing on some flip flops, I walked outside and headed to CVS. In my pre-8am sleepiness I was walking with my head down and my eyes half open when I heard "Hey Adrian!" in a familiar voice. I looked up and saw Vanessa walking in the other direction. "Good morning!" she says. I smiled and had time to say, "Hey! Good morning!" before we walked past each other. As my mind tried to figure out what the fuck had just happened, I stepped into CVS and bought some milk and orange juice.
I got out of the shower, dried my balls, and remembered that we were out of milk. Throwing on some flip flops, I walked outside and headed to CVS. In my pre-8am sleepiness I was walking with my head down and my eyes half open when I heard "Hey Adrian!" in a familiar voice. I looked up and saw Vanessa walking in the other direction. "Good morning!" she says. I smiled and had time to say, "Hey! Good morning!" before we walked past each other. As my mind tried to figure out what the fuck had just happened, I stepped into CVS and bought some milk and orange juice.
Tuesday, July 10, 2012
Training Ground
I just had an experience that changes the way I look on LA and the east hollywood area where I live. Here it is:
There is a taco truck about 4 blocks from my house. It's close enough that we could easily walk but I'm so used to driving here we decide to take his Prius. In between the taco truck and my there are three sets of traffic lights. In about a minute we're there. Once we're done eating we start to head back to my place. The first light we breeze right past but we quickly get stopped by the traffic in front of the second. We end up stop right next to an intersecting neighborhood street. As we pull up to wait, I see a white passenger van pull to the end of the neighborhood street facing up and stop. In the front is a very stern looking man and woman, both wearing blue sweatshirts. I look to the side of the van, an emblem reads "LAPD". The side door slides open and grey sweatshirts begin to drain out, trainees. First five of them, ten of them. Each hit the ground running to form two jogging lines. Fifteen, twenty, the light changes, twenty-five, we begin to move and the curiously small van is still parked with excited young people in grey sweatshirts running out in twos. (thirty, thirty-five, forty...)
We move on from the brigade and continue up to the third light.
Once again we're stopped, this time there are only a few cars between us and the light. I can already see my street. To our left is a liquor store I've ventured to many times at night. To my right I hear a very high pitched yell. I turn to see three little kids playing outside a rickety apartment building. The kids are eight years old. Supervising them are two dude, young guys both about twenty. I notice the two guys' attention is diverted across the street. I follow their eye lines' to three tough looking dude walking at a good pace, from the liquor store, across the street, right at them and the kids. I notice the one in front, wearing a large white t-shirt, has his hand tucked up between his shirt and belt. He's holding something grey and shiny. As they pass in front of our car I hear the two groups begin yelling in Spanish. PUTA! (the only word I understand) Suddenly the guy in white's hand springs out from his belt. A long silver shank jabs and hooks out at the two guys. They jump back and take off! Before I could blink, they'd sprint down the alleyway nearly shanked and out of site. The one in white hides his knife back under his shirt. The other two shoot a quick look down both side of the street and begin back towards the liquor store. As the first one reach the bumper time slowed, I image him sticking out his long silver blade, if I stuck my hand out towards him it would probably just reach enough to cut my finger. They jog in a triangle formation back to the liquor store. Light changes, air begins to moves again, we pull into the drive way, silence, "those little kids"...
In earshot of my house and one block apart, there are two groups of trainees.
There is a taco truck about 4 blocks from my house. It's close enough that we could easily walk but I'm so used to driving here we decide to take his Prius. In between the taco truck and my there are three sets of traffic lights. In about a minute we're there. Once we're done eating we start to head back to my place. The first light we breeze right past but we quickly get stopped by the traffic in front of the second. We end up stop right next to an intersecting neighborhood street. As we pull up to wait, I see a white passenger van pull to the end of the neighborhood street facing up and stop. In the front is a very stern looking man and woman, both wearing blue sweatshirts. I look to the side of the van, an emblem reads "LAPD". The side door slides open and grey sweatshirts begin to drain out, trainees. First five of them, ten of them. Each hit the ground running to form two jogging lines. Fifteen, twenty, the light changes, twenty-five, we begin to move and the curiously small van is still parked with excited young people in grey sweatshirts running out in twos. (thirty, thirty-five, forty...)
We move on from the brigade and continue up to the third light.
Once again we're stopped, this time there are only a few cars between us and the light. I can already see my street. To our left is a liquor store I've ventured to many times at night. To my right I hear a very high pitched yell. I turn to see three little kids playing outside a rickety apartment building. The kids are eight years old. Supervising them are two dude, young guys both about twenty. I notice the two guys' attention is diverted across the street. I follow their eye lines' to three tough looking dude walking at a good pace, from the liquor store, across the street, right at them and the kids. I notice the one in front, wearing a large white t-shirt, has his hand tucked up between his shirt and belt. He's holding something grey and shiny. As they pass in front of our car I hear the two groups begin yelling in Spanish. PUTA! (the only word I understand) Suddenly the guy in white's hand springs out from his belt. A long silver shank jabs and hooks out at the two guys. They jump back and take off! Before I could blink, they'd sprint down the alleyway nearly shanked and out of site. The one in white hides his knife back under his shirt. The other two shoot a quick look down both side of the street and begin back towards the liquor store. As the first one reach the bumper time slowed, I image him sticking out his long silver blade, if I stuck my hand out towards him it would probably just reach enough to cut my finger. They jog in a triangle formation back to the liquor store. Light changes, air begins to moves again, we pull into the drive way, silence, "those little kids"...
In earshot of my house and one block apart, there are two groups of trainees.
Monday, July 9, 2012
Happy Times
Last Friday I received an email from the folks over at the IT Help Desk alerting me that my password was going to expire in 3 days. As is my fashion, I decided to prepare in advance to prevent any Complicating Troubles and change my password now rather than wait for the 1-day warning. You see, Complicating Troubles are just not for me. To make an easy transition, I decided to change my password from Lennon1967 to Barrett1967. The deed was done, and all was well. I did some reading, took my lunch break, enjoyed Subway's $5 foot long of the month (buffalo chicken), and came back to work ready to do some mindless browsing de l'internet; however, this proved to be impossible. I soon traced the problem to my ECwireless password not working. I cross-checked my hypothesis by trying to log into ecommon on the work computer, and thus proved my theory to be correct. Assuming I made a typo, I proceeded to try anything and everything that resembled Barrett1967. Barret1967, Barett1967, Bartt1967, Brett1967, Barrett9167, Barret9167, Barett9167, Baret1967, etc. Nothing was working. I gave up, and went to the emerson password page and requested a password reset to be sent to my email. Shortly after, it occurred to me that the problem may have been caused by the fact that I was logged into another computer at media services with my old password. But if this was the case, the world will never know, as I had already reset my password. Unfortunately, the password reset email never arrived; I must not have had my gmail linked to that account. Even though all my ECmail forwards to my gmail? Oh well. The rest of the day was spent sans internet.
I went home for the weekend, since Adrian went to Connecticut, OldJoe was in New York, NewJoe was evicted, and I dont have any other friends. As you may or may not know, the prices of the T have been raised to new Bullshit levels. I looked up how much it cost to take the train home; the price had been raised from $6.25 to $8. I got on the train at Ruggles, and had to buy a ticket on board (the commuter rail ticket machine blended in perfectly with the regular CharlieCard machines, rendering it all but invisible). I told the guy where I was going, and he asks the other conductor how much it is to go to Norfolk. Before he gets a response, seeing the $20 bill I'm handing him, he looks me in the eye and tells me it costs "Eleven Fucking Bucks." Eleven Fucking Bucks!?!! Anyways there wasn't much I could do so I was forced to eat his bullshit and pay.
That night I went to Providence and enjoyed a nice night of pizza and waterfire with the GF. During dinner I discovered that the screen on my phone stopped working. I stopped by the Verizon store in the mall for assistance. After turning my phone off and back on again, the Service Expert informed me that the case was hopeless and that I needed a new phone.
While I was home I decided to grab a bike from my garage and use it instead of taking the Bullshit T (better known as the BST). This morning I prepared for the maiden voyage (not really; the bike hadnt been used in a while, it's one of those "Autobikes" that they had infomercials for a long long time ago. also, the only time i can remember riding a bike since i was a little kid was when i rode melina's bike around in boston a couple years ago. but i digress...). As I was saying, I was making sure I had everything; the lock for the bike, the keys for the lock, making sure my helmet fit, figuring out which route to take, trying to avoid any and all Complicating Troubles, as such things are not my style. I went on my way and successfully navigated halfway to school when I realized: I didn't have my Fucking Wallet. Chicken-Shit-Bullshit!!! I needed my Emerson ID to tap into the building I work at as well as the other places that I might have to deliver shit to. I took the next chance to turn around, and was quickly on my way back to the apartment. I couldn't call work to tell them I would be late because my phone was broken, so I had to hurry. I was checking my empty pocket again when I realized: I didn't have my God Damn Keys. Piss!!! I needed my keys to get my ID to get into work. I couldn't call Adrian to get his keys, so I just gave up and biked to work. Fortunately my manager had once introduced me to the security guard, so she knew who I was and let me sign in.
I came to work and was greeted by two managers trying to figure out some mysterious order that was missing information and was booked by me. They were also wondering why I was late. I also couldn't sign into the inventory ipad because my emerson password is all fucked up. But anyways, fuck everyone, fuck you, and fuck me. I've commandeered one of the laptops from work and I dont give a fuck. So like it or fuck off.
I went home for the weekend, since Adrian went to Connecticut, OldJoe was in New York, NewJoe was evicted, and I dont have any other friends. As you may or may not know, the prices of the T have been raised to new Bullshit levels. I looked up how much it cost to take the train home; the price had been raised from $6.25 to $8. I got on the train at Ruggles, and had to buy a ticket on board (the commuter rail ticket machine blended in perfectly with the regular CharlieCard machines, rendering it all but invisible). I told the guy where I was going, and he asks the other conductor how much it is to go to Norfolk. Before he gets a response, seeing the $20 bill I'm handing him, he looks me in the eye and tells me it costs "Eleven Fucking Bucks." Eleven Fucking Bucks!?!! Anyways there wasn't much I could do so I was forced to eat his bullshit and pay.
That night I went to Providence and enjoyed a nice night of pizza and waterfire with the GF. During dinner I discovered that the screen on my phone stopped working. I stopped by the Verizon store in the mall for assistance. After turning my phone off and back on again, the Service Expert informed me that the case was hopeless and that I needed a new phone.
While I was home I decided to grab a bike from my garage and use it instead of taking the Bullshit T (better known as the BST). This morning I prepared for the maiden voyage (not really; the bike hadnt been used in a while, it's one of those "Autobikes" that they had infomercials for a long long time ago. also, the only time i can remember riding a bike since i was a little kid was when i rode melina's bike around in boston a couple years ago. but i digress...). As I was saying, I was making sure I had everything; the lock for the bike, the keys for the lock, making sure my helmet fit, figuring out which route to take, trying to avoid any and all Complicating Troubles, as such things are not my style. I went on my way and successfully navigated halfway to school when I realized: I didn't have my Fucking Wallet. Chicken-Shit-Bullshit!!! I needed my Emerson ID to tap into the building I work at as well as the other places that I might have to deliver shit to. I took the next chance to turn around, and was quickly on my way back to the apartment. I couldn't call work to tell them I would be late because my phone was broken, so I had to hurry. I was checking my empty pocket again when I realized: I didn't have my God Damn Keys. Piss!!! I needed my keys to get my ID to get into work. I couldn't call Adrian to get his keys, so I just gave up and biked to work. Fortunately my manager had once introduced me to the security guard, so she knew who I was and let me sign in.
I came to work and was greeted by two managers trying to figure out some mysterious order that was missing information and was booked by me. They were also wondering why I was late. I also couldn't sign into the inventory ipad because my emerson password is all fucked up. But anyways, fuck everyone, fuck you, and fuck me. I've commandeered one of the laptops from work and I dont give a fuck. So like it or fuck off.
Sunday, July 8, 2012
My Friends
So I haven't blogged in a while and I thought that a couple of things that happened to me this week were blog worthy...
My friends from back home came up on Tuesday to stay for a couple of nights including the 4th of july. These friends are a little bit, I guess you can say, more bro(e) than us but they are funny, and cool fucks. Also they have a lot of money and they deal with grandma.
But whatever, so they got here Tuesday night and as soon as they got here we started drinking. They brought up two handles of gin and then juice. I had already had a beer and a half and my friend made me one of those gin and juice drinks. I tasted it, it was pretty great. It was basically orange juice. I took a couple of more sips, some time goes by, and I started feeling a little nauseous. Now keep in mind that I have thrown up once in the last 12 years so I'm not really sure what it feels like. I decide to go into my room to just take a breather and chill for a second but next thing you know I'm throwing up. FUCK! I just threw up on my rug and a little bit of my friend's laudnry basket which had all of his clothes. I immediately start cleaning up and shit while I start thinking about how im going to tell my friends that I threw up after one beer and a little bit of gin and juice and to tell them that one of the kids clothes was fucked because i puked on it.
A couple of minutes go by and I'm finally able to get their attention to make an announcement. The floor falls silent (just like when I'm in the senate) and i start, of course, with a list.
"First- the gin and juice are not working for me" I said. It got a couple of weird looks.
I kept going "Second- I legit just threw up two minutes ago" Now they start laughing
I try to get their attention again because the worst is yet to come. THey also didn't really believe me.
"Third. I don't know who but one of you is fucked. Whose laundry basket is in my room?"
Rosie (one of my friends, a cool dude). "The one with all the clothes in it? Don't tell me you threw up on it"
I said "Yep, sorry. It landed on only a couple of your clothes but I will wash them right away"
In the end it all turned out fine. Washed his clothes, we still went out that night and we all got drunk. They all thought it was hilarious though how I had to make a whole announcement about the event, but I just told them that I'm used to speeches and lists.
So then onto the july 4th (sorry this is so long). We were day drinking while walking through boston while carrying an 18 pack of roling rocks and brown bagging our beers. Fucking great! But then comes the night and we cant find a good bar to go to because my friend has a fake and the place we wanted to go to was fucing ridiculous with ID checking.
We go to Fenway where it turn out all the bars were closed. So we decided that we are going to walk back to the other bar (back in Boylston, definitely at least 1.5 miles away) and the kid with the fake would stay back.
BUT WE HAD ONE OBSTACLE...it was The FENS!
Now i had heard that there was some midnight fucking that goes on in there but I just thought it was a myth. So when I was presented with the choice of cutting through or going around the park, i chose the creepy trail.
We start going down it and it immediately gets really creepy. Just no lights and couldn't see shit. But whatever what's the worst that can happen, its 5 grown men, no one is going to do anything to us. We keep on walking and then suddenly, on my peripherals, about three feet away from me, I see a white man standing there with a hat and an alien looking face. I FREAKED OUT! Why was there a guy just standing there?!?! It's the middle of the fucking part, in between high bushes and trees with NO LIGHTS!! We all start going a little bit faster and now we see more people coming in out of the high bushes like it aint no thang. WTF?! We keep going but every guy we passed made it even scarier because you only saw them when they were 2 feet away from you. So we finally get out and then our friend researches on his phone what just happened.
It turns out the fens is known for being a place where gay guys go and fuck. We went right through it, so now we dont know if the people were thinking we were there to fuck or to do some bashing because supposedly that also happens like once a year (real fucked up).
W.e. that's up to you to decide.
I hoped you enjoyed this blog and didnt take away from other more important matters. HOPE ALL YALL ARE WELL!!
My friends from back home came up on Tuesday to stay for a couple of nights including the 4th of july. These friends are a little bit, I guess you can say, more bro(e) than us but they are funny, and cool fucks. Also they have a lot of money and they deal with grandma.
But whatever, so they got here Tuesday night and as soon as they got here we started drinking. They brought up two handles of gin and then juice. I had already had a beer and a half and my friend made me one of those gin and juice drinks. I tasted it, it was pretty great. It was basically orange juice. I took a couple of more sips, some time goes by, and I started feeling a little nauseous. Now keep in mind that I have thrown up once in the last 12 years so I'm not really sure what it feels like. I decide to go into my room to just take a breather and chill for a second but next thing you know I'm throwing up. FUCK! I just threw up on my rug and a little bit of my friend's laudnry basket which had all of his clothes. I immediately start cleaning up and shit while I start thinking about how im going to tell my friends that I threw up after one beer and a little bit of gin and juice and to tell them that one of the kids clothes was fucked because i puked on it.
A couple of minutes go by and I'm finally able to get their attention to make an announcement. The floor falls silent (just like when I'm in the senate) and i start, of course, with a list.
"First- the gin and juice are not working for me" I said. It got a couple of weird looks.
I kept going "Second- I legit just threw up two minutes ago" Now they start laughing
I try to get their attention again because the worst is yet to come. THey also didn't really believe me.
"Third. I don't know who but one of you is fucked. Whose laundry basket is in my room?"
Rosie (one of my friends, a cool dude). "The one with all the clothes in it? Don't tell me you threw up on it"
I said "Yep, sorry. It landed on only a couple of your clothes but I will wash them right away"
In the end it all turned out fine. Washed his clothes, we still went out that night and we all got drunk. They all thought it was hilarious though how I had to make a whole announcement about the event, but I just told them that I'm used to speeches and lists.
So then onto the july 4th (sorry this is so long). We were day drinking while walking through boston while carrying an 18 pack of roling rocks and brown bagging our beers. Fucking great! But then comes the night and we cant find a good bar to go to because my friend has a fake and the place we wanted to go to was fucing ridiculous with ID checking.
We go to Fenway where it turn out all the bars were closed. So we decided that we are going to walk back to the other bar (back in Boylston, definitely at least 1.5 miles away) and the kid with the fake would stay back.
BUT WE HAD ONE OBSTACLE...it was The FENS!
Now i had heard that there was some midnight fucking that goes on in there but I just thought it was a myth. So when I was presented with the choice of cutting through or going around the park, i chose the creepy trail.
We start going down it and it immediately gets really creepy. Just no lights and couldn't see shit. But whatever what's the worst that can happen, its 5 grown men, no one is going to do anything to us. We keep on walking and then suddenly, on my peripherals, about three feet away from me, I see a white man standing there with a hat and an alien looking face. I FREAKED OUT! Why was there a guy just standing there?!?! It's the middle of the fucking part, in between high bushes and trees with NO LIGHTS!! We all start going a little bit faster and now we see more people coming in out of the high bushes like it aint no thang. WTF?! We keep going but every guy we passed made it even scarier because you only saw them when they were 2 feet away from you. So we finally get out and then our friend researches on his phone what just happened.
It turns out the fens is known for being a place where gay guys go and fuck. We went right through it, so now we dont know if the people were thinking we were there to fuck or to do some bashing because supposedly that also happens like once a year (real fucked up).
W.e. that's up to you to decide.
I hoped you enjoyed this blog and didnt take away from other more important matters. HOPE ALL YALL ARE WELL!!
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