Friday, June 27, 2003

Okay, so I found this one courtesy of my Friendster-message pal (there are no pens involved, although words are our playpen via the internet) Carol, who is herself 26% geek, thusly only half as geeky as me. I want you all to take this test and let me know your results (Kipes, I'm looking in your direction, heh heh...Sergei, you too! Sean has GOTTA be at least 65% least). I guess this is vindication for those of you who had mistaken me for Drew Carey...

You are 54% geek
You are a geek. Good for you! Considering the endless complexity of the universe, as well as whatever discipline you happen to be most interested in, you'll never be bored as long as you have a good book store, a net connection, and thousands of dollars worth of expensive equipment. Assuming you're a technical geek, you'll be able to afford it, too. If you're not a technical geek, you're geek enough to mate with a technical geek and thereby get the needed dough. Dating tip: Don't date a geek of the same persuasion as you. You'll constantly try to out-geek the other.

Take the Polygeek Quiz at

Well, I gotta get to bed soon...this geek is hitting up the Wilco/Sonic Youth show in Central Park today with Andriani and mon frere. See you there...or not. May Strom Thurmond enjoy his eternity in Hell, which follows his almost eternal stay in Congress. Cheerio!

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Wednesday, June 25, 2003

Okay. This is me staying awake so that I don't get up too early tomorrow and end up beat all night at work. I woke up at 11:30 or so this morning, after going to sleep at 4am. Not a bad night's sleep at all. A few minutes later, I called Larissa, who was supposed to be waking my ass up, and woke her ass up. I'll forgive her, though, because she was working until 1am last night. So, while waiting for her to come by, I made myself breakfast, but I kinda cooked the bacon a little too crispy, because I was looking for a Leonard Cohen cd in my room that was actually in this room. I came back to the kitchen and freaked because my bacon shrunk....

As Larissa entered the front door, I had just stuffed a strip of bacon in my mouth. Now that is classy! So, after washing the bacon and eggs down with some coffee in my "It's the BIG 60!" supersize ceramic mug, I took her on the brief tour of my parents' home, and then across the driveway to my humble abode in which I have yet to abide. She told me that she and Jenn have been dying to make their kitchen look like my parents' kitchen, what with the orange and brown 70's paneling and the snazzy onion clock. I totally believe her, too. As soon as she walks into my house, she says "Nice sloppy-ass painting job, J-Ro! Is this the look you were going for?" I felt like Bill Cosby's son in that routine from "Bill Cosby, Himself" where the boy has cut his own hair, apparently not very well, and the father asks "Why did you do this?" and the son says "I dunno." "Is that the look you wanted?" "Uh huh."

Of course, I wasn't intending it to look like crap, but I am not a very good house painter. Nor am I a Red House Painter, although I would love to have a voice like Mark Kozelek and have a penchant for womanizing and turning AC/DC songs into sad, weepy ballads. Instead, I am just a frustrated house painter...just like Hitler. I guess he had a Larissa in his life that just made him cross the line. Ha ha ha. He did. Her name was Winnifred Wagner, daughter of anti-Semitic composer Richard Wagner. You can learn all about it from the History Channel's documentary "Hitler's Women: Winnifred Wagner" which I caught a part of the other night on the History Channel International.

So, anyway, Larissa surveyed the livingroom, and lectured me on painter's tape vs. masking tape, and then while she taped the remaining things that needed to be taped (she works quickly and efficiently), i went back here to get some music, some paint brushes and other supplies. I then put on the perfect soundtrack to house painting...A 2 cd set called "Don't You Forget About Me" that contains 26 classic songs from 80's movie soundtracks that realizes the potential of the 80's Movie Painting Party I tried planning those months ago. Well, this party was just Larissa and I. But it was nice. It was pretty much the first time we hung out alone, so it was hard to figure out where to start the conversation. I'm so bad at asking questions. I wonder why that is. Sometimes I feel so unimaginative.

After a few hours of painting and shooting the breeze (a breeze would have been was sooo hot), Larissa went off to do Larissa stuff, and I took a shower, watched a little tv, and went to visit Charlie at Starbucks for a bit. Read a little bit from Mike Nelson's book Mind Over Matters, where Mystery Science Theater 3000's Michael J. Nelson goes in-depth on many a random topic for seemingly no reason at all. He uses big words in his pursuit of the trivial and the eccentric, and therefore, it is one of the best books I have ever read, because there is absolutely no point or purpose. Someday I hope I can write as amazing a book.

Got home from Starbucks, took a nap, realized I had a craving for a shrimp burrito from the Green Cactus, so I drove to Stony Brook and got one. So goood!! I highly recommend it to those of you shrimp and burrito lovers. Cone with me and have one next time. That'd be great. I had to battle myself to not go for coffee afterwards, though. But I figured I'd had enough. But I do love coffee.

Well, this whole post was pointless, I'm sure. At any rate, let me say that last night's Jonathan Richman show was great. That's all for now. Gonna go downstairs and find a movie to watch.

Sunday, June 22, 2003

Not a lot to say this morning, as I still have to eat a little food before I head off to sleep, and then wake up early so I can go to Paul & Lindsay's engagement party in the rain (it's a nice day for a wet wedding), before going to work until 7am again. At least this week, I'm off Monday, Tuesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Monday night I'm going to see Jonathan Richman at the Knitting Factory. That should be great, as it always is. Tuesday, Larissa should be coming over to help me paint the house (maybe I will get enough of it done to warrant moving in sometime in the next century). Kinda hungry.

Note to J. Lo if he is reading this (to the uninitiated, that would be a guy named James I worked with): I'm sorry about what happened. Also, I never got to tell you that it wasn't that I sold you out -- it was a process of elimination. I had to go to the supers to get those files you erased, and they pretty much figured it was your doing. I didn't go up to the Moustache and say "Yo, J. Lo erased my shit again!" This doesn't change your job status, I know. But I just wanted to make sure you knew that I wasn't running around trying to get you fired so I could steal your job, which I am, of course, going to apply for, and raise hell if I don't get it. Good luck with your future career, James. Hopefully, you will get some time on unemployment to reflect.

Alright, I'm out.