Archive for the ‘Weird Shit’ Category

Irresponsible Family Planning

Posted: September 17, 2012 in Weird Shit




1. This is a farewell message  meant to indicate a speedy takeoff since the driver’s vehicle is about to leave yours in the dust. Of course, this seems unlikely since the vehicle is an ordinary Ford Explorer. Maybe, with the economic downturn the driver, like all of us, was forced to make cuts and simply kept the license plate from his Ferrari after he traded it in for the Explorer.

2. When the driver leaves you, which he inevitably will because he’s a ramblin’ man and/or rollin’ stone, you will see the plate and you’ll know its message means he’s never coming back, but that you’ll always be his friend and sometimes lover. Only, he’s not the only ramblin’ man, in fact he’s not even the first ramblin’ man so he had to use an alternate and unfortunately vague spelling for his farewell.

3. The driver invented a product called “Bud,” intended for lonely people.  Bud is a robot that can be programmed to be your best bud. Everyone needs a friend. The driver, of course, would like you to buy either a) the robot itself or b) the patent rights.

4. The driver is a marijuana dealer. This plate is basic advertising and effective, but not a good way to avoid The Man.

5. The driver is a marijuana advocate and/or consumer. He feels that one good toke can heal the world’s wounds. The plate is not meant as a form of self-identification, but as an appeal to the masses.

6. Repeat possibilities four(4) and five (5), replacing “marijuana” with, like, flowers or whatever.

7. The driver is a patriot and therefore an advocate for responsible, honest commerce. He happens to be a marijuana (flower) user, but what really matters is that when you want some, let’s say bud for instance, you get it by exchanging hard-earned currency for the goods, not by stealing from hardworking folks either literally or in the form of  Universal Bud Care, which are basically the same thing.

8. The driver is a misanthrope. The plate is an axiom meant to suggest that if you want a real friend, then like anything worth having in this world,  you have to pay for it.

9. The driver believes so wholeheartedly in capitalism that he sees it as the only reliable institution left. Therefore, Possibility Eight (8).

If you’re ever on the run, Matt Damon is probably on the short list of individuals you’d want with you.

Lately my dreams have been frequent and vivid, so I considered myself lucky when the other night Damon and I, along with two women were trying to escape the end of the world.

Tough to contain.

The End of the World was a dark cloud which moved visibly like a thunderhead, but unlike a normal cloud it caused everything mechanical to explode in its wake and it could morph like in Terminator 2: Judgement Day., our fearless, but type-A-to-a-fault leader suspected the women of slowing us down, riding our coattails to survival, and he kept trying to talk me into ditching them before they got us all killed. I wouldn’t have it. I was the sensitive peace-maker, comforter of the shy, vulnerable girl and diplomat between the feisty bitch and the ill-tempered Damon.

There are never transitions in my dreams.

We find ourselves in an abandoned skyscraper. The End of the World has taken the form of an amorphous being, like the Blob, but gaseous. We thunder up the stairs but It’s is right on our heels. The shy woman falls; I stop and Damon yells at me to leave her but I won’t listen, I scoop her up and carry her, because you know what? Sometimes even Damon is wrong and during a crisis, you have to follow your instincts.

We find safety in a room that is undergoing renovations and covered with plastic and littered with paint cans and tools. It’s getting dark. Despite Damon’s warnings, the feisty bitch fiddles with a lamp and it explodes, vaporizing her.

“Goddamn it!” exclaims Damon, pounding the wall with his fist. “We have to move. Now!” This is why Damon is so great. He’s upset that the feisty bitch is dead even though he hated her.

We’ve escaped the end of the world, and so has Manhattan. We meet Damon’s father at a lovely café in Greenwich Village. And man, I thought Damon was a hard ass. Damon Sr. and I get into a heated argument about Jack Lemmon. Martin Scorsese arrives, orders a macchiato and mediates the argument. Though I feel the content of my argument is far more sound than Sr.’s, he is much louder and demonstrative and I think this resonates with Scorsese who grabs Sr.’s wrist and raises his arm to indicate victory.

“Way to go, Pop!” says Damon.

I don’t try to fight it. I don’t actually have that strong an opinion about Lemmon, I’m just happy to be alive.


Posted: August 7, 2012 in Uncategorized, Weird Shit

It can be difficult feeding a snake. Especially when the scent of a rodent lingers on your fingertips.

Serpents don’t know your finger isn’t a mouse.