Eternal Sunset of The Spotty Mind

How many of you MTA Board Members live in Jersey and don’t even take the subway?

Right.  And how many of you think that our education system is not going to turn our kids into dumb jocks, much like the ‘roided up ‘tards who will be playing in that stadium?

Uh huh.  Now how many of you are complete tools?

OK.  How many of you watched the Olympics just for John Tesh?

Aaand which one of you is the Lord of the Dance?

(Is that dude in the middle doing a "Heil"?)

Yes, that would indeed be my name if I were a Spice Girl… 

• I’m sicky.  Need sleepy.  And vitamin C.  And Mars needs women.

• 2 unimportant things today:

  1. It’s Christopher Walken’s birthday, which means we should all be afraid.  Be very afraid.

  2. 4 days until baseball.  If you happen to spend time with me or someone like me, be afraid.  Be very afraid.

• I must stop misreading the news every day.  Today it was "Bombers Kill 8 in Iraq; American Is Kidnapped".  My initial thought was "How come the Yankees get all the headlines while my Mets get ignored?!?"  I need to get one of those Jump-to-Conclusions mats. 

• I’d like to talk about the feared and dreaded Friend Zone.  I feel I can talk honestly about this place because I was a longtime resident of the Zone and even worked as a realty agent there for some years.
  The Zone is like prison or a religious cult; it is easy to get in but extremely difficult to get out.  In fact some never leave.  (And I have always been the caretaker…)  You may even be visiting neighboring Dating Town but before you know it, you can be shanghaied into the Zone in an instant.  The Friend Zone is a peaceful place, less dramatic than Dating Town, Booty City, Girlfriendville or Marriage Corners, but no one actually wants to live there (again, just like prison).  Reasons for being forced into the Zone include, but are not exclusive to:
  • Being mute (not speaking up).
  • Preexisting conditions (boyfriend or girlfriend).
  • Sexual harrassment policies.
  • Shot clock violation (not making the play before time runs out).

The roads in the Zone aren’t paved but there are cops all over the place, so behave.  There’s a lot of shopping there, and a lot of therapists and bartenders.  There’s always plenty to do, but what the hell, there’s also plenty to do at Disneyworld.  It doesn’t mean you should do stuff there.

Apparently there is a way to avoid being forced into the Zone: aloofness.  (I cannot personally confirm this, nor do I fully believe it.)  On the flipside of the coin, there is one crime that will inevitably get you tossed into the Zone: earnestness.  (Which I think is bs too.  Probably why I’m so earnestly single.)
I have decided never again to visit the Zone.  I prefer getting slapped for being too forward than having to visit that one horse pissant town again.  Teddy don’t play that game no mo’.  (Though what immediately came to mind is Gonzo singing "I’m going to go back there some day.")

• I’m not a big Pope fan.  There are plenty of crazy old senile men I can get advice from, like Andy Rooney or my dad.  But I do have some respect for a dude who still leads millions despite being incontinent.  But come on, why this picture?  Has he become a Gashlycrumb Tiny?  (P is for Pope who died of conservatism.)  Is he Kilroy?  (And wuz he here?)  How much is that Popey in the window?  (Click on thumbnails for larger images.)
• I hear Falwell’s status has been upgraded to stable.  Too bad.
• Bless my VCR for without it, I would not be able to watch Lost when I get home from class tonight.  I wish I were blessing a TiVO but it’s beyond my budget.
• I think I’m becoming too cynical.  There’s a headline in the Times today that says "Delay Possible on Iraq Charter as Talks Falter" and my first instinct is to say "What the f-ck did Tom Delay do now?!?"
• My big subject of the day (especially for you Yankee haters):
  The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name, a.k.a.
  Derek Jeter ♥s Alex Rodriguez.
  I understand that players become very close spending most of a year together, but these two guys’ touchy feeliness makes them look like East Village ‘mos.  And y’all know I love my gay men, just not the ones who say they’re straight and get married and all that.

  For instance, this photo on the right should be called "Let me just rest my glove for a few hours, sweetcheeks."

  This piece is on the left is entitled "Fabulous coming out."

  I will have more photos on these two once I can scan in the really intimate shots.

• A tribute to Johnny Cochran Jr.:
  • If it doesn’t float, put it on a boat.
  • If she got wit, I will submit.
  • If you can’t knit, use a sewing kit.
  • If he makes you cry, he will die.
  • Don’t get high on your own supply.  (Wait…that one was Tony Montana.)
  • If you can’t decide on a bride who smiles real wide even when you’re snide and she knows you lied, hide across the continental divide with your wounded pride.  (Or at least on the upper west side.)

Isn’t it lovely when life decides to forego the lemon stage and just hand you lemonade?  Gallons and gallons of cold, sweet, refreshing lemonade…  (Wish I could elaborate.  But English no language speak.  Failed TOEFL.)

Isn’t it harsh when you realize that a dream you had was a lie?  But then it’s amazing once you realize the freedom you gain from having that lie shattered in front of your eyes.  Then you find that new dream and you can chase it the way you really want to.  Sondheim was right: Wishes come true, not free.  Not that any of my wishes have come true lately…  This just seems to happen to me every couple of years.  I eagerly await my next epiphany and nervous breakdown.

Oh, and I’m also glad Martha’s free and ready to kick some ass.  I know she’s a bit of a j-hole but the cook in me says that she’s the tops.  And far superior to that Good Eats tool.  What Alton Brown doesn’t know about the passion of cooking I can almost fit in my pants…or the grand canyon.  Something vast and empty.

Here’s my question for the day: If there is a God, what does he have against Indonesia?  Haven’t the world’s archipelagos been through enough?

And another question: I drafted Thome this weekend instead of Ichiro due to a technical error.  Was Melanie right?  Now that Babe Ruth has finished haunting the Sox, has he moved into my apartment?  It’s one thing to not get one of my favorite players in the world, but to have to take a Philly who regularly oppose my Mets, that’s harshness defined…

"It’s getting harder
just keeping life and soul together.
I’m sick of fighting
even though i know i should."

I submitted some of the items from Haiku Day to workhaiku.com.  They posted them.  I’m guessing they’re not very selective…

No real post today.  The weather stinks and it’s getting me down, as is the Red Lake shooting, and the hypocritical right wingers.  Luckily, the only offensive position I ever played in soccer was left wing. 

In the words of Ty Webb from Caddyshack, my advice for the day is: "Be the ball.  See your future.  Be your future.  May.  Make.  Make it.  Make it.  Make your future, Danny.  I’m a veg, Danny."

Dunno why, I feel like writing Haikus today.  This will be a marathon effort: how many haikus can I write during 8 hours of down time?

• Architects annoy.
  They won’t stop hassling me.
  Demolition rules!

• The sun, dazzling,
  Burning my eyes, hurts my head.
  Should have stayed in bed.

• Women send signals.
  I am not illeterate
  but am dyslexic…

• Sleep is too distant.
  I close my eyes and wake up
  in my lonely bed.

• Modern music blows.
  Milkshake brings boys to the yard.
  I prefer sundaes.

• Unloveable me,
  Doomed at birth to die alone,
  Will never give up.

• The Mets lost Phillips,
  Trachsel is on the DL.
  Bobby Cox can screw.

• Origami calms
  The tsunami in my head.
  (Awful reference…)

• Easter, I stay home.
  But Jesus won’t mind if I
  Take Monday off too.

• Why don’t haikus rhyme,
  follow a rhythm or time?
  Makes them less sublime?

• There once was a girl from Nantucket…
  Wait, that’s not haiku.

• Neh keu rim jah neun
  Neh gah gah neun deh mah dah
  Dah rah ohb nih dah. 
  (My first Korean haiku!!!  I can’t vouch for the Korean on the right.)

  Translation in haiku form (with embellishment):

  My darkened shadow
  No matter where I will go
  Always follows me.

• My hairline recedes.
  There are more than enough troops
  But they still retreat.

• My job is that dream,
  Where you go to school naked.
  Watch our for your ass…

• Toxic words burn bad.
  Why would you say that to me?
  F*ck you too, @$$hole!

• When I turned thirty
  I swore to live my life right.
  Then I took a nap. 

• My Friendster blog stinks.
  Why would someone post haikus
  that stink even worse?

• A mad world and life
  dawns the eternal sunset
  of my spotty mind.

Tom Taylor just sent me this one.  (For those who don’t know him, Tom is a brilliant U of C’er and one of the coolest individuals you will ever meet.  Without him, I never would have seen North Carolina nor ever found the three or so Asians who live in Hartford, CT.)

• Now apparently
  Destabilizing countries,
  Freedom rings louder.

Which inspired me to write:

• Westernization
  Is not modernization.
  Nor is it progress.

Last one for the day:

• As I leave today
  Please remember what George said:
  "Love one another."

  (Harrison, NOT W.)

Here’s one more quote from my journal I thought was very strange:

• "It’s like arriving at the gates of heaven and having St. Peter tell me ‘You’ve done everything right and you should be proud of yourself.  But we already have way too many Teds up here so, sorry!  You can take the express elevator down.’"

This is a quote from "The Office" Christmas Special just before the happy ending (which I’m not sure was a good idea).  For those who have rooted through my baggage like customs, you know why I’m posting this:

• "The people you work with are people you’re just thrown together with.  I mean, you don’t know them.  It wasn’t your choice.  And yet you spend more time with them than you do your friends or your family.  But probably all you got in common is the fact that you walk about on the same bit of carpet for 8 hours a day.  And so, obviously, when someone comes in who you have a connection with….  Yeah, Dawn was a ray of sunshine in my life, and it meant a lot.  But if I’m really being honest, I never really thought it would have a happy ending…  I don’t know what a happy ending is.  Life isn’t about endings, is it?  It’s a series of moments and umm…  It’s like, if you turn the camera off, it’s not an ending, it it?  I’m still here.  My life’s not over.  Come back here in ten years, see how I’m doing then.  Cus I could be married with kids.  You don’t know.  Life just goes on."
• Reminds me of when Charlie Brown loses the spelling bee.  He’s lying in bed all depressed and Linus comes in and tells him that the world didn’t end and that the sun did indeed rise that morning.

Since this page has basically become my forum to complain and whine, let me be happy for once: 

• On my worst day, I feel like the Boxer.  Proud that I’m still standing but torn and hanging on to "the reminder of every glove that laid him down or cut him till he cried out in his anger and his shame ‘I am leaving, I am leaving’ but the fighter still remains."  (A tangential note: there are no more "whores on 7th avenue".)  On my best days, which I’ve been having many many more of, I am the Only Living Boy in New York: "Heyyy, I’ve got nothing to do today but smile…"  A few more of these days and maybe I can breathe again.  "Fly down to Mexico…"

Everyone have a lovely week.  Don’t let the man get you down.

-Teddy

The photos have been updated adding photos from the Dangerfield party.  Check it out!