The Liquid Kosmos: February 2005

Thursday, February 24, 2005

The Sneaky Feeling

Rarely do I recognize that I am feeling lonely. Normally I will put up a monumental wall and just act like it's not there. Tonight, is different.

Much About Nothing

It's aThursday night and once again the calls are coming in. "Hey, let's meet up and have a couple." Yeah? A couple women? In my bed? At once? Oh, you mean beers. That sounds really great. Why stop at a couple? And that's the whole thing... it won't happen. I can almost set my clock by the midnight call now. "Dude, you have to get out here... women everywhere."

Black Monday

Do you think something is wrong if every Monday morning I wake up and think about calling work and saying I'm taking a sick day? Then NEVER doing it and then fighting a haze the first few hours. Desperately trying to figure out why I can't crank it into gear. Is there something wrong with that? I wonder if you feel that way sometimes. Make a post man.

America's Finest News Source

Tuesday, February 22, 2005

To Buy or Not To Buy?

As most of you know, I was a little steamed yesterday, but that is nothing compared to the confusion that rests behind my eyes this evening. So, do I buy the loft or keep the cushion available for some unforseen dream chase? Let's see if we can figure it out.

First of all, I feel a little uneasy about the future of my job. Corporate cut-backs loom and our station is going through some rough times. It would be easy to point collective of fingers right down my throat. I'm the "Marketing guy," blame me...but the truth is, marketing local news in this day and age is tricky...there are so many other options... I just think it's a matter of time before I figure out what will be the best way to take us, then it will be full steam ahead into the new frontier of television news.

Then again, on a rare occasion marketing has saved crapola from a dismal place in Big Lots' hell, but for the most part we know it all comes back to the product. Right? Don't we? I think it does...doesn't it?

See! That's what I mean. Completely confusing. And on top of that I have about 6 people blowing up my phone tonight... all wanting me to "go out for sushi and a couple of drinks" because it's a friend's birthday. Well, call me callous, but I'm sick of going out for sushi and a couple of drinks and wouldn't even do it if it was MY birthday, so I guess that is ok. Right?

I'm trying to write. Sort my shit out and there is always a tenacious flow of temptation shovelled in my direction. Hey, got backstage tickets to the Richard Marx show tonight. Let's head down to the honky tonks for the Maxim Girl party. Dude, my cousin is coming in town with three smokin' hot chicks. We need a third to "entertain" them and you're the man. Whatever. I'm tired of it. Nothing is sexier than my mind, so walk your way down to the souls of promise and wallow in the pending rejection.

Yes, my landlord/good friend Lisa (and Billy) and I share the same mailbox and yesterday she found a surprise for me. A soft-core porn mag stuffed up in that motha. As you can imagine I was stunned to find it addressed to me (so many things stun me these days).

I assured her that I would never order such a magazine (for the record it was "Stuff) and she just kind of chuckled and told me the real funny part of the story.

After she noticed the magazine she wasn't sure if she should deliver it to me or leave it in the box. Well (after a brief "rights of privacy" power point by Billy- a very honest man) she decided it was best left alone for my slimy mitts to uncover. But, just after she tucked it back away, she noticed one of our lesbian neighbors walking down the street, stuffing mailboxes with the neighborhood "safety meeting flyers."

Lisa faced another dilemma and found herself racing back to the infamous mailbox and tactfully leaning against it, much like I would when someone wanted to use my computer and I was fearful of the "elicite activities" discovery they would make.

Anyway, I guess that's not that funny, but I think if I would have told it like I did yesterday (before all of my fucking words got deleted by the impatient Internet timing police) you might have actually laughed.

The whole thing makes me want to start sending Penthouse to my married friends. A year subscription can't be more than $20 and that is a small price to pay for the fireworks a move like that would ignite.

Seriously, though, THIS is funny. I just remembered a story (hopefully as well as I did yesterday before those damn Internet....) about the singer from my old band (which is recording another record this June under an assumed name so we can surprise people or something, but the truth is no one ever knew us in the first place, so a new name seems like a futile waste of time, energy, and money. Just think how much a new logo will cost. You have to change all the banners, drum heads, and reserve a new domain. Fuck it.) who was sick for three days one time and all he did was sit in front of the tv and call every 800 # offering a free sample or try out or whatever it was and had them all sent to a friend's house. He made hundreds of phone calls and our unsuspecting friend was plastered with mail.

About three weeks later the singer stopped by the house and EVERY SINGLE THING HE ORDERED was stacked up on the kitchen table. The receiver of the merchandise was baffled. He's not so smart. But I thought it was funny. (I wrote that better yesterday too).

Anyway... I still have no clue as to whether or not I will buy this loft. Thanks for the help asshole.

Monday, February 21, 2005

I Don't Usually Get This Pissed

I just wrote a phenominal post, but my Internet connection timed out and I lost everything.
Seriously dude, it was jammin.

It is lost... much like several other good posts from typepad.com where when my free subscription ended so did some killer writing. It's my fault, I know... I should type in a word processing program, then cut and paste, but there is just something sexy and exciting about my words being one button from your eyes.

I will meditate and see if I can re-create something similar to my groundbreaking post - that sadly is no longer available to any human.

Sunday, February 20, 2005

Sunday, Soggy Sunday

I told my friend Michael that I was on U2's website and saw that every show on their upcoming tour is sold out. He said, "No shit." I said, yeah, but it's just sort of final when you see it in print. Not that a sell-out would stop me from trying to get tickets, but they are not coming anywhere near Nashville. I would have to fly to Chicago or Philly or some other location and hope that I will find some sucker willing to get rid of a ticket for $300. Not a good plan for a guy trying to save money for his new loft.

Maybe it's just as well. Kinda like things are better left a fantasy. But it's not quite like that because I have seen U2 once and it was the best fuking show I have ever seen. No light extraviganza or anything like that, simply pure energy and a house of love. They are doing more for Christianity than the Pope, but most people are just too one dimensional to realize it.

Then I find out that local band Kings of Leon will be opening for U2 on their American portion of the tour and they played two shows this week that I totally missed on. I need to get with it.

So, looked at porn with my girlfriend this morning. That was kind of fun and while she assures me that my deepest and kinkiest fantasies are safe with her, I'm still a little gunshy about opening the door, however. I kind of tip-toed around it by strategically picking pictures that had a semblance of my lustful desires, but it never came clean. I'm sure she saw right through it. Thing is, I would totally want to know hers and it WOULD be safe with me. Maybe I should just trust her and lay it out there. It's me, right? Let it go dumbass... life is passing.

Finally got around to watching some episodes of "Curb Your Enthusiasm" and I can't believe I have been missing out on that show. Larry David is one funny and self-depricating dude. It is so funny to me because I can totally see Seinfeld watching at home and laughing his ass off at this show. At least I hope he is.

As I mentioned earlier, I am looking into buying a loft. About time I decided to buy something, I'm rapidly approaching death and all I have to show for it are some drums, a few paintings, a smittering of cash, and a couple of championship rings from my minor league baseball days. I'm always so damn unsure of where I will be and what I want to do with this life that much of the time I do nothing with it. Fuk it, I'm going to buy the loft and just deal with it. Things work out and I guess I could be doing worse things with my money.

It truly is a soggy Sunday in Nashville. It has rained for about 10 straight hours. Why do clouds and weather affect people's moods so much? It must be that damn chemical equation in the body at work again. Probably one of the reasons I have bad days at work. My office is in the basement and it's a rare occasion when I see the sunlight. I am a vampire, but you know what?, vampires turn me on.

I watched "This Girl's Life" last night. It is a movie about about this woman who is an internet porn star and I'm telling you they picked the right woman for this role. Juliette Marquis is absolutely stunning. But, the thing was, I was genuinely in love with her character. Saavy, smart, deep. Not to mention she was a little deviant, which ranks very high on my scale of aphrodisiacs.

She was very clear on her love for sex and how that was the reason she chose her profession, but the script continuously threw her curveballs to test her will. It's a good movie. Not great, but certainly worth watching and the music was cool too. Not sure if there is a soundtrack, but I'm going to look it up. Hang on a sec... Couldn't find the soundtrack.

Anyway, subsequent research finds that this is a pretty highly-acclaimed film. Juliette Marquis is my new thing.

Sunday, February 13, 2005

Bleeding Hearts on Valentine's Day

Two days before St. Valentine's Day I attended an annual fundraiser for the American Heart Association. Nice little marketing tie-in if I may say so myself. Thousands of people dropping $250 a plate and thousands more on silent auctions to rid the evils of heart "disease".

I'm skeptical by nature. If you want something screwed up in this world, leave it to humans. They will twist the perfection of nature until it is no longer recognizable. Let me explain.

Granted, there are surely genetic factors at play when it comes to heart "disease", but do we think that maybe, just maybe it may have something to do with Western lifestyle? Possibly poor diet and unreasonable amounts of stress in the workplace?

I did a google search for "heart disease definition" and this is the first one that showed up: Usually, heart disease occurs due to inadequate blood flow to the hear muscle. This occurs when the arteries that supply the heart muscle (the coronary arteries) become partially or completely blocked. Obese people are at increased risk of heart disease due to their higher rates of hypercholesterolemia, diabetes and hypertension.

"It occurs when the arteries that supply the heart muscle become partially or completely blocked." Disease or condition? "Obese people are at increased risk." Do we think that maybe, just maybe obese people have poor diets? Sure, there are genetic reasons too, but for the most part heart "disease" is running rampant because Americans have the worst diets on the planet. Self-fulfilling proficies and addictions to foods and ingredients in food that help producers sell more of it. There is no money in people eating "less".

So, back to the dinner at the Heart Association's gala. A big fat steak followed by a tantalizing cheese cake and fluffed up chocolate surprise. Not to mention gallons of scotch and crate upon crate of wine. These are the kinds of things that genuinely baffled.

The room was full of middle to old aged white men dressed in monkey suits and their proud girl friend's or wives sitting next to them in expensive dresses that they probably weren't happy with. The post-dinner entertainment was an African drum and dance troup that lost themself in a no doubt ancient ritual that was "very unusual" yet entertaining to the Southern crowd of high-brow conservatives. Was I the only one in the room uncomfortable with this scene?

The woman next to me declared, "I just love Africans," and followed it with a suplimentary note about aboriginies. She also said she wanted me to spend the night with her.

She was/is one of those women that are very entertaining in the moment and probably a nightmare most of the time. I was definitely intrigued by the cat and mouse game she played on my left while my date rested her hand on my right knee.

"Seriously, what's the deal with your date?," she asked. I said we've been seeing each other for three weeks or so, why? "You need to go to the bar with me now." I'd better not, I said. A little footsy and some more obnoxious behavior led to her date actually leaving the table and her to fend for her own way home. I was "caught" between two women at a formal fundraiser. They were both "tipsy" and I could feel the potential for ugly.

My date continued sharing her pleasantries and the "evil girl on the left" forged ahead with her pursuit of my body. "You two make such a beautiful couple," she said as she leaned on my thigh toward my date. Brushing my crotch ever so slightly, igniting the pure animal inside me and just about driving me over the edge of confusion. I'm weak when it comes to sexual advances and this was tough. She was very attractive and reaked of an unbelievably sexual evening.

The three of us made our way to the exit and the lady on the left was staggering in the classic female "I've had too much wine" kind of way. Bumping into chairs as we left the hall. Her behavior was now unnatractive and her conversation became more and more blunt. Aggressively challenging me to step outside of my date and go with her. I sent her to a cab and my date and I went back into the hotel.

I've known that my date has been hiding something from me. She has one of those over-the-top happy personalities and I am hyper aware of extreme behavior and what it may be covering up. We walked through the massive hotel atrium and I became bolder in my questioning. Her attempts to "motivate" me were becoming annoying. I told her I have problems and I accept them for what they are. I know I'm depressed on occasion. I am compulsive, addictive, and non-comittal. Please tell me your problems.

The gates to her emotions were about to burst open like a flood.

St. Valentine: http://www.americancatholic.org/Features/ValentinesDay/

Saturday, February 12, 2005

The Day After the Day After

(written on an earlier gloomy day. today is actually quite nice)

It's a gloomy day in downtown and I'm sitting here wondering what I feel like doing. Ever feel like that? Seems like it happens to me all the time. I was up until 2:30 this morning working on a screenplay and hit a creative wall. I was trying to write a scene with sexual tension between two women, but it started to feel trite and corny. I was putting on differernt music to try to find a zone, but nothing seemed to work. I guess I'll try to move onto the next scene.

I have to say, I think Myspace is pretty cool. I'm starting to see the potential and how it all could fit into my desires for creative splurging. There is a book called The Cluetrain Manifesto that talks about how corporate structure as we know it is dying and/or dead, and that individual ideas are the future of business.

This site is a perfect example of how that is happening. How people are sharing thoughts and opinions in sort of a grass-roots education for the future. This is really an exciting time, but there are so many question marks. It seems like at least half of the people I talk to are unhappy with their jobs, but not sure about what they would rather do.

A woman I spoke with on Myspace last night said, that for her, it came down to "going for it" and "breaking through that pensive state of mind." That is so true...I mean, how many times have you heard someone say to just do it. I would hate to look back at my life and say, what in the hell was I so afraid of.

I mean, really...what is there to be afraid of? Everyone says, "I just don't have the time," but I think we all have the time, it's just a matter of how we use it. If you have a chance, check out my friend's music. I think he is simply one of the most brilliant lyricists and thinkers on the planet: www.stuartdavis.com

The Taco Bell Caper

They have mastered the delicate blend between sugar and salt. That is why I keep going back...Taco Bell, you bastards! Anyway...I do go there about once every other week and today was no exception.

It was around one o' clock and the line was about 4 deep, but the interesting part was that a cop had a woman in a mini-van pulled over on the curb next to the drive up lane. It was beautiful. First, I couldn't understand why she was there. Did she insult the drive through operator through microphone? I mean, come on, it makes no since that she would be there if he pulled her over on the street. Unless, she pulled in, was starting to make an order, then the cop pulled her over. "Ma'am, please pull over to the right of the drive through lane." "And a Chicken Bolieto....oh, excuse me, but I have to get a ticket from this cop first, then I'll complete the order."

So, I'm getting a kick out of it because I like to see women driving mini-vans get into trouble. Sort of seems like a perfect law of nature to me. But I'm getting worried that I won't progress through the line quick enough to get a clean look at her face and the inevitable tears flowing down her face. I order without the typical fan fare and move up along side our dis-illusioned housewife as she waits for the big black cop to present her ticket.

She's obviously upset, but I mean how bad can a profanity fine be? The cop lumbers toward her door and formally presents her with the bad news and she begins the signing process. "Yes, I acknowledge that I was a dumbass and broke all laws created by God fearing Catholics and did it in spite of my love for you Mayor Purcell." She's signing away, then I look away for one minute and has opened the door and is looking down like she's dropped the pen under the seat. Looking, looking, then getting out of the car to look up and under. Minutes pass and nothing. Then the cop gets involved.

They're both looking for the pen, she's in the backseat (probably hoping he jumps in with her) acting like she's looking for the pen. Where's the damn pen?? How can a ticket happen without the signing? Wouldn't hold up in a court of law, I'll bet... Anyway, they find the pen, she signs away her life, then drives away thinking of her fantasy cop and the grief she'll face with her husband later. Surely she opted for the former. As Seinfeld would say... "There's a show."

Do you ever wake up and forget who you are?? Me either, but I've heard of people it's happened too (and just between me and you they drink an "awful lot"). I'll catch all ove you zero's of people later. I'm off to talk about the big screenplay.

This makes me damn happy: http://www.u2.com
posted by: The Zen Maker

The Liquid Kosmos