What's This About A New Way?

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Monday, October 09, 2017

I Am The Objectifier.



I actually have to "go downtown" today and it is positively a scandal. It was understandable when I worked there and made actual paper hand money in the process, but this is quite simply beyond the fuck whatever pail or pale or vale. Jesus. I am in quite a state, boiling water at the moment which is the precursor to coffee, French Press, which is the only French thing I can abide besides the language before what is it 10 a.m.?

I am getting the fuck out out Los Angeles and I mean now and I mean yes, ready, do.

I told my barber of my plans, and he cut my hair accordingly, and Jonathan is, as I'm sure he knows the most important man in my life right now. I'm actually not having sex with the 26 year old football player to tell myself I'm not having sex with a 26 year old football player on purpose so this is the Lord's honest truth. For fuck sake. Yes. Getting out of this place, even though the skies couldn't be bluer and it really is pretty for Jesus's sake, but going downtown on a Monday it really puts one off the scent.

I really could just spit at someone I am in such a mood, but I have the old cast iron out and I am going to fry myself up something solid and sustaining, but altogether vegan because it helps me get through the day not thinking of myself as an animal abusing dick. My heavens I couldn't be in a more fouler mood and this is just what going downtown or having to go downtown rather does to one.

Tuesday, October 03, 2017

For Questions Of The Uncategorized Variety.




I had to return to Los Angeles, and it was an event that warrants mentioning. The Uber driver could not have been any more flummoxed and his brief couldn't have been more simple. Drive me from Ballard to SeaTac airport. Hardly an exotic request I would think, but the associated drama that ensued became just another echo of why the fuck I don't live in that mother fucking city. I mean honestly. All I am trying to do is get to the Goddamned motherfucking airport. It shouldn't require conferencing and stress on my part, but there you are. He was from Somalia and there's no reason I should even know that since the more pressing issue was always what direction we were driving.

The DMV, which was the nucleus of my entire trip, ironically, was nothing less than a wasteland of human desperation and longing. I started off by standing in a sun drenched line that stretched for what seemed like miles and miles. As soon as I was at last standing in a mercifully placed sliver or shade I was informed that since I had an appointment I didn't need to stand in line with these fucking umbrella holding losers. Live and learn.

While keeping up with errands driving on the Metro I am positively drowning in classy. One woman knocked over a wastebasket that was affixed to the motherfucking wall with metal screws just to extract a single aluminum can. She bangs the can on a safety railing to eject the remaining liquid matter before adding it to her collection of hard won scavengings. Everyone is going about their business like it is entirely normal because it is entirely normal for here.

I am on a conference call with "The San Francisco Team" at this very moment and the level of tetchy defensiveness is palpable and we aren't even Face timing. I am now on mute and getting high because I just can't even. There is no reason for this level of hostility over a conference call. Over litigation. Over anything. I mean really. I quite nearly unmute myself to remind them that I am real. I am present, and they are almost being profane bringing this level of discord to my life.

Everyone, and by everyone I mean Wendy  has so much experience and would prefer to do things a certain way and the way Wendy did it before is really better and Wendy is letting everyone know about it and the smarty pants over-exertions have made me throw off the earbuds no less than thrice because honestly I can't even be doing it.

I still haven't eaten. This call needs to end. Not a single subject that has been raised could matter even less and my hopes for humanity fade so softly with every up-talking vocal fry question Wendy lobs to someone who honestly has, you know what, I'm just going to read my book.