The Liquid Kosmos: May 2005

A brawl in the making at K-Mart

So I'm (actually I'm not sure where I was) over south of town just past 100 Oaks Mall and I drive past this K-Mart (Big K for all of you that still shop there) and remember that I need razors and some crap for my allergies.

It has been a while since I've been to a Big K, but it feels vaguely familiar as I pull a rusty shopping cart from its perch. Yes, I know, why would I need a shopping cart for two small items? I think Target has done that to me. The only place where I go in looking for a shower curtain and end up calling the neighbor because I've bought so much stuff it won't go in my car.

Anyway, I'm pushing the cart through the absolute WORST bunch of crap clothes, shoes, and other stuff I've ever seen and land just outside the medication aisle. I stroll over to the allergy stuff and am shocked at the prices. It's almost a buck a pill for Clariton! But, I rationalize it by saying, "24 hours of relief? That could be a steal." After about 3 minutes of soul searching I grab 10 of them for 9.64 and go back to my cart, which is now missing. Someone stole it! I'm telling you, there couldn't have been more than 20 people in the whole place and someone had the brass to steal my rusty cart right behind my back. Amazing.

So naturally, I am kind of "strolling" along with one eye toward the razors and another out for the cart thief and low and behold there is a very suspicious man in the toiletry aisle with one box of toothpaste in his cart (you know, right where the kid would normally sit) and he is looking VERY suspicious. Not to mention he is standing right next to the RAZORS!

I kind of give him the once over and he quickly looks down and reaches in his pocket to pull out a "list" of stuff he is allegedly buying. I look back down at the toothpaste and nearly start it on fire with my piercing stare, then to the razors, then back at him. Again, a quick look down to the list, this time followed by some mumbling in Spanish. "Uno, Shiek razeros, foomy shavy cream," or something to that effect... Then silence. He is busted and he knows it.

Then in one full swoop I reach out and yank a 10 pack of razors out of their bin and storm away in disgust. Tonight....he was lucky. If I hadn't been in such a forgiving mood, there could have been "Cart Wars," which would hands down be more entertaining than Star Wars.

Other than that, not much going on tonight. You?

There is something immeasurably sexy about this photograph.

They sucked me right in.

Is this any way to treat the most kind and peaceful human images?

"Here's Johnny"

This guy looks right at home tossing hatchets.

They didn't "F" around back in the day.

This owl was about one more photograph from ripping out my trachea.

Master Falconer Kitty Tolsen Carrol's assistant.

Why don't you come with me little girl, on a "magic camel ride."

That is me, deep in the forest, and captivated by The Minstrels of Mayhem.

She was not happy with me taking this photo.

Bad photo of a stunning minstrel.

Proof that faries dream.

These guys were great, but the photo was of the mystery girl

Happy to be a wench

Faries and wenches aplenty

Someone must know that I am single, because I get pop up ads for every dating service on the Internet - and trust me, there are hundreds. You can find anyone you want, just be subscribing to these friendly services. Tall, short, friendly, black, white, oriental, freaky, funky, spunky, rich, poor, a bore. Whatever you need, I can hook you up with one quick link.

For the second straight year, I am proud to announce that I went to the Tennessee Renaissance Festival. It is a freak show in the finest sense and I ate up the scenery, the audio pleasures, and the chili cheese dogs.

Yeah, I know, you're saying, "how can you like the RenFair, but not like Star Wars?" It's simple, I like looking at women in leather corsets.

There are pictures below. My formal re-cap of the Tennessee Renaissance Festival will be posted later today.

Zen, robots, and black-light posters

I'm pretty openminded. I'll ride down a busy street to put attention on the environment, but I'll also see the cop's point of view and how people could be upset because their wife may be having a baby and a group of tree huggers like me are inbetween them and the hospital. I think it's good to keep a balanced perspective on things and see issues from another person's perspective. Hell, I even wear one black and one white sock sometimes just because I feel like it. But there is one thing that I am not budging on: Star Wars.

With every new release of that series I fall further into extinction. In fact, I think I'm probably one of the few men on the planet who has never seen ANY of the Star Wars flicks.

I forget how it started, but maybe it had something to do with the fact that I like women and didn't want to look like a dork with robots on my bedroom shelves. I was more of a black-light poster, Van Halen kind of guy. All that "wankanobe" stuff just flew right past me.

Or may it's because I'm not really a big fan of the future. I mean, it hasn't happened yet, so at best these movies are prognostication and if you're going to fantasize, why the hell would it be about space ships when Angelina Jolie just dumped Brad Pitt?

Anyway, I kinda lean toward the present. It's a lot more en vogue.

And the past is kind of cool too because you can learn from it. (The key word in the previous sentence is "can" because most of us don't). I could say, damn, what I did last night was STUPID with a capital every-letter-in-the-word. Then, tonight go out and do the same thing again... wake up in the morning, look at myself and say... who are you? Do I even know you?

But there is one lesson I have learned from the past and that is don't do something you have strongly protested for a long time just because you are getting older and more tolerant.

I did that when I lived in Minneapolis for a year. The whole time I swore that I would NOT go to "The Mall of America" and for 364 straight days I was firm. It was like 10 miles away from my apartment and planes full of people from all over the country were flying to my neighborhood for just that reason. To shop!

I think it was kind of selfish, sort of like this Star Wars thing, but I was determined to stay out of that multi-layered and over-exploited symbol of capitalism. And, let me tell you that was far more difficult than avoiding a poorly written movie with a bunch of butt pirates. Every woman in the world wants to go to The Mall of America. No less than two relationships ended because I refused to go to that place. It's pretty much another Internet shopping spree contained by cement blocks.

Yes, I was strong... holding on to my "MOA" virginity like it were the last lightsaber in the galaxy. That was, until I met Anna.

Anna was alive, fun, and sexy. The bad news was, that I had decided to move back to Illinois about three weeks earlier, and of course, just like clockwork, I met a totally hot and seemingly perfect woman. I knew it was probably a mirage because I was leaving and it was kind of like, "hey, let's just hang out... be crazy and never worry about anything because I'm leaving soon, anyway." We spent like 3 straight weeks together and on the day before I left, she had her purse full of beer and we were walking into the movie theaters at "The Mall." Kind of a double whammy.

Although I had a great time with her that night and the previous 20, I still kind of regret going to the MOA. The story would have been so much cleaner. Everytime someone brings up that mall, all I would have to say is, "Yeah, well, I lived there for a whole year, only 10 miles away, and I never set foot in that crap hole." Now, it turns into this whole thing about 364 days, a girl, beer, blah, blah, blah...

Truth be told, the Mall of America is kind of impressive. It's got like jungles, a roller coaster, an ice rinks, and obviously tons of women. So, the openminded part of me thinks, maybe I am kind of glad I went to the movies that night. I'm just glad Star Wars wasn't playing.

A day of rebellion

The pictures are from Critical Mass - Nashville. The story explaining the whole damn thing follows the string of photographs.

And I just want to point out that I have a few recent stories that were quickly bumped down, so don't forget to keep reading.