5 august 2000

it's been a while

The truth is that i rebuilt my computer a few days ago. It's too hot in the room where my Macintosh is, so i'm giving it a well earned vacation until this autumn. Meanwhile i nuked Win 98 and installed Win 2K Professional. If you were thinking of doing the same, it's a relatively safe move with the exception of some programs that don't seem to jive with the new environment. Generally speaking developers are working very hard to accommodate this problem and new patches are released every day. But i'll take my Macintosh on any day of the week that ends with the letter "y".

In regards to the last show, Turnoffs, Pet Peeves and Annoyances, Chris asked me what some of mine were. I knew someone was going to ask and i'll be damned if i didn't take about 5 minutes and scribble down some of my thoughts.

From the top of my head all i could think of were:

• plucked eyebrows -and/ or-
• wookie bush

On the first one, plucked eyebrows, women who tear, mangle and torture their eyebrows to the point of where all they have are these wispy arches of hair over their eyes, it makes them look like some sort of mechanical, processed bimbo. Eyes are so very very important and quite frankly, one of the most sensual things a woman can (potentially) have. Yes, i'm partial. I like eyes, i like hips, i like big round bottoms, i like a woman with raven hair, brown eyes, freckles and if she wears glasses, i'll probably take her home. Granted, there's nothing sexy about a monobrow whether it be on Eric Lindros, Brooke Shields or my favorite monobrow dunderpate as of late, Super Greg. In other words, moderation and presentation are key. Speaking of inordinate amounts of hair, the other pet peeve i mentioned, Wookie Bush, is just a euphemism for women who refuse to "mow their lawn", if you know what i mean and i think that you do. There isn't much nastier in this world than to get hot and heavy with a date and only to find that she's got an Amazonian Rainforest expanse of nastacular hair from thigh to thigh. It is inconsiderate, it looks nasty (though it is not technically unhygienic) and frankly, if i wanted to go stick my tongue (among other things) into something big dark and hairy, i'd go around humping a handful of iron wool. And guys... do you really think that a woman wants to look at your willy while it's turtled away in a bed of untamed wilderness and your precious nutsaq has the texture of a tennis ball? (free hint from Shellito: No. No she does not like this)

Now to be fair, there are those who relish the days of the 70's when a woman wore a bikini, it looked like a nest of tribbles were trying to escape from her groin. And that's okay if you're into big untamed hairy monsters like that. Just to be fair to you, check out Hair to Stay.

Well, needless to say, there ARE other things that qualify as Pet Peeves in my world. Of course i could only think of them once the cameras were off. Are you ready? Can you smell the anticipation?

• People with limp handshakes
• People who won't make eye contact during conversation
• People who can only talk about themselves
• People who only contact you when they want something

Those last two have happened to me recently. So far i've tried to be subtle but i don't think it's working.

Oh well, it's getting kind of late. I should call it a day soon.

 

22 august 2000

the prospect of autumn

I had some thoughts a little while ago. They fled from my mind as a handful of moths into the night and i'm now left searching the corners of my consciousness looking for anything that might have stayed behind.

Not for the first time in recent days, my thoughts have turned to autumn and the hopes that the scouring heat of yet another endless Texas summer will soon be gone. But not all is bad with the heat. I enjoy the chorus of cicadas, the girls wearing skimpy shorts and blouses so sheer that you're expected to look closely. I enjoy the nights that are relatively mosquito free. If i had half a mind, i'd go buy a nice fat hammock and snooze in it using only the sheltering night for cover. But being accused of having half a mind is something that i just don't get accused of very often.

So it rained today. The simple act of water falling from the skies becomes a sign that there is still mercy in this world. It does for me at least. It was not the hard driving rain dancing in conjunction with the symphony of wind, thunder and light that i might have wished for, but for the hour or so that it rained, it was a welcome break from the summer.

But now i have to talk about Texans driving in the rain.

Okay. In the Almanac of Physics for Rednecks, does it have a chapter that explains that if you drive your Chevy, Ford or Dodge FASTER in the rain that you're going to be:

• able to get to that red light faster
• more in control of braking
• less likely to cause a wreck
• be able to dodge those raindrops that might wash away that beer vomit in the bed of your truck

It is sheer, unbridled stupidity of these irresponsible White Trash to drive the way they do. I hear people from the north commenting on our inability to drive in the snow. Who can blame us? No, of course we don't know how to drive in the snow and we don't go icefishing. But Rain? Anyone with more than one brain cell to rub together should be able to recognize a change in driving conditions and drive the conditions of the road instead of driving your normal belligerent speed. But no. This hearsay seems to be lost on every fucking Bubba, Skeeter, Bodie, Billy Ray, Jim Bob and their thimble dicked, NASCAR watching inbred brethren.

Speaking of people who find the visage of watching cars drive in circles for hours on end, i have to rant about one more thing tonight. I'm at the auto parts store... you know, the stores where you can buy any of an assortment of airfreshners with the floating heads of the stars of NASCAR and some other crap like brake pads, lights, batteries, etc... So i'm sitting in line waiting for the guy behind the counter to end his 7 minute long schpiel to the guy in front of me about the finer points of measuring belts. Yippie Kai Yay, now move the fuck along and let me buy my Jeff Gordon airfreshner.

No no no. I needed a headlight... a NON NASCAR headlight (everything seems to be NASCAR endorsed these days). But as i'm standing there being subjected to the finer points of belt length, i look up and behold this self promoting video that is a series of adverts for the store i'm already in (i'll rant about this some other night) intermeshed with a bunch of "documentary" type stuff for NASCAR. They were discussing the finer points of a 110 inch wheelbase for the cars versus the 112 wheelbase for the trucks. If this kind of discussion interests you, i suggest you get up and get your Tee Vee Dinner out of the oven 'cause your woman has gone to Cletus' trailer to give him a quick blowjob.

Okay. I'll help clarify this point later in an essay in one form or another, but NASCAR... guess what folks? It's a bunch of bubbas who look like gay cops (it's the mustache) who sit in a chair and drive in a circle for hours on end. No really... look closely. It's a bunch of bubbas who look like gay cops who sit in a chair and drive in a circle for hours on end.

But Shelly Wayne, they're going so FAST!

Yes they are. So do planes, but you've never gotten excited about THAT, have you?

But Shelly Wayne, there's so much STRATEGY going on!

Yes. It's called "passing" try doing it on the lower deck of I 35 on any given afternoon.

But Shelly Wayne, it's so intense !

Yes. That's your anticipating people getting into wrecks. Face it, you watch NASCAR to watch people wreck and die. Oh sure, you may say that you don't want people to die, but what the hell? You'll pay your money and wait. If they die, oh well... at least it was a good wreck, right? Tell you what. We'll make NASCAR a little more exciting for you. If there are 30 cars driving in circles that day, we'll take 30 children at random from the crowd and put them in a car. No seatbelt, no restraints. Just shove the little fat bastards in. Just because a persons job is to be a driver doesn't change the fact that he (or she if there are any women drivers) are someone else's child.

But Shelly Wayne... Hey. You're making one of your little "points", now aren't you?

Consider it made... and by the way, you go to hockey games to watch the fights too, don't you?

Before i bring this evenings installment to a close, i do have a serious matter weighing on my mind.

There is someone i barely know. She and i have never met, though we've written each other several times. Not e-mail mind you, but honest to gawd handwritten letters. Because of a line i felt she crossed, i felt the need to stand up and explain myself in no uncertain terms. Though i was diplomatic, though i was honest, though i was as respectful as i could have been, i feel... i feel guilty for it. And i shouldn't. So to that person out there (you know who you are), there is another letter in the mail as of tonight. I do enjoy corresponding with you and hope to meet you soon.

And to everyone else, sleep well and may you dream of rain.

29 august 2000

swimming with the cicadas

:: i ::

 

I realized last week that i hadn't really addressed any issues surrounding the show in a while.

Two shows ago the topic was... hell, i can't remember the topic right now. At any rate, a woman called with a story that not only will i never forget, but the epitome of devotion and caring. Basically this woman and this guy used to do a lot of coke and booze. They met in a bar and became fuck buddies. You may not like this reality, you may decry how immoral it is, but it happens.

Some weeks later the guys ex calls and tells him she is HIV positive. At first he thinks she's trying to extract some emotional vendetta from him. But he gets scared and gets tested.

He is HIV positive and he's spending his free time staying boozed and coked with this woman who was just his fuck buddy.

And for whatever reason this happened, something snapped in both of them. She stayed, she became his friend. She sobered up, he sobered up. They had a kid (she conceived before they knew he was HIV positive). She got tested and she does NOT have HIV. And get this... they're still together, they're the best of friends, they're both sober, his HIV has gone to "undetectable" levels.

I thought this story was a testament to the power of humanity... to the power of devotion, hope, compassion and love that overcame the worst of odds. And for that, i am grateful.

:: ii ::

So last saturday night i decided to make "jealousy" the topic of discussion. There were a few people with some interesting stories but nothing too remarkable. Then i shaved my head. Yes, i shaved my head... again.

And of course everyone wants to know "why?"

It's kind of tough to explain and frankly i'll keep some of my answers to myself. But there is something exhilarating about losing your hair. It brings focus to ones life, because it removes that visual layer that hair brings to ones appearance. It's hard to be pretentious when your hair... one of the most immediate things that people register about your appearance, is gone. For someone who is used to having their hair a certain way for their presentation, a shaved head can become a symbol of humility. It can be a symbol of devotion as well.

As for me and why i did it, i can say some of the adore mentioned reasons ARE why i did it. As for which one(s), i'll just keep to myself.

:: iii ::

Well the endless summer continues to scour the earth with its seemingly endless fury. The front lawn has long since been sacrificed to the god of the water bill; a sacrifice that the sun gladly accepted. Squirrels are starting to eat the pecans before they're ready, the air continually feels and smells scorched. And what do i do? I go sit in the sauna after i work out.

I have never been to a sweat in a lodge, though i have been invited. Though i am part Choctaw, i feel it would be arrogant or just plain rude for me to sit in on a sweat. But i have found... i have found that with the pain of enduring that kind of heat, there comes a type of awareness, an ability to see with the clarity that pain can provide. It is not for everyone, but for those who are looking for awareness without dialog with others... for those who understand that certain types of pain are nothing more than input that is perceived through stimuli, a sweat (be it in a steambath, a sauna or even a traditional sweat) can be an excellent way to clear the mind and to push the body. But don't take my word for it... go do it yourself.