Here are some leftover nuggets from 2010. I stole this idea from The Beatles. It’s like the medley at the end of Abbey Road whereby they took a bunch of half-finished songs, mashed them all together and created an epic.
I see this ad and many more just like it in the subways almost every day. Cell phone providers boast that their networks are so powerful that you needn’t ever be without the internet.
The premise of these ads is always the same; a guy or gal in a remote, bucolic setting, surrounded by nature, with their faces buried in a laptop or cell phone. They are seemingly oblivious to the beauty around them. Pardon me for judging, but if you’re on vacation in the vast wilderness and you simply cannot tear yourself away from the internet, you are a LOSER. That’s what these ads say to me: “Our products will turn you into a needy LOSER.”
This morning I woke up in the bathroom. I didn’t know how I got there. Did I get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom or did I wake up because the alarm went off? I was standing there completely flummoxed! I tiptoed back into the bedroom to check the clock and, sure enough, the alarm had gone off. It was 5:18 a.m. I had no memory of turning it off, getting out of bed and walking into the bathroom.
I use to have to smoke a ton of weed to achieve this state. I’m happy that it requires less effort.
9-Year Old Daughter has a friend in school whose father passed away last week while shoveling snow. He wasn’t that old but he was pretty overweight, which was probably a contributing factor. You read about stuff like this in the paper all the time. Someone is missing in a flood. A fatality from a fire. A traffic accident claims a life. You turn the page and check the box scores. But when something like this happens to someone you sort-of know, you see the aftermath. What goes on after everyone else is on to something else. It makes you realize how fragile life is. All that guy wanted to do was clear the driveway and it cost him his life.
The best reason to quit smoking:
I did not Photoshop that image. Cigarettes in New York City cost $11.00 per pack.
When I was smoking, we bought our cigarettes for 50 cents a pack at the Bi-Lo Gas Station on Pearl Road right behind the Junior High School. Marlboro Lights. I started smoking because, to be perfectly honest, it make me look pretty damn suave. I looked like a poor man’s James Bond. (Substitute the Austin Martin for a brown Chrysler Newport and the martini-shaken-not-stirred for a pop top Pabst Blue Ribbon.) Then, whoops!, I got addicted and smelled bad. So I quit. It’s a good thing. I couldn’t afford the habit now.
I work in Soho in a building that use be a printing plant. Lots of buildings down here that were purposed for heavy industry have been converted to living and office space. Because they’re not traditional skyscrapers and more factory-like, it occasionally takes a while for the heat to kick on in the winter. This is my colleague:
She looks like something out of a cruel scene that Charles Dickens dreamed up.