“Let’s see, it’s 5:30PM on the day after Thanksgiving. Let’s jump in the car and head down to Union Square. And if traffic is, by some strange twist of fate, backed up for blocks and blocks and blocks, I can just lean on my horn to get things moving…”
Yes, I realize I haven’t posted in ages. I was in NYC and just too busy and having too much fun to stay parked in front of my computer. And since I’ve returned, the combination of jet lag, a work-sponsored karaoke outing and previously scheduled massage, I just haven’t had the time. But I plan to post a recap of my NYC adventures soon.
In the meantime, my Swiftkey predictive keyboard (a.k.a. Skynet) continues to learn at a breakneck pace – and it has also developed either prescience or consciousness (maybe both?). As is my wont, I was listening to Rihanna at my desk this morning and doing the robot – and my friend Ralph likes to be kept apprised of my dance moves, so I started to text him. AND SWIFTKEY KNEW THAT I WAS LISTENING TO RIHANNA! This is even more amazing when you consider I was listening with headphones. Even the people sitting on either side of me couldn’t have known what I was listening to! What a world…
I’ve already forgotten what I was looking up on the Google – I think it was either how to insert new ear plugs (the faux-tribal-dirty-hipster kind, not the why-can’t-people-just-shut-the-fuck-up-so-I-wouldn’t-have-to-jam-cone-shaped-pieces-of-foam-into-my-ears-simply-for-one-moment-of-peace-and-quiet kind) or what the best brand of curry powder is.
Whatever the case, the site I wound up at had these suggestions on other how-to articles I might be interested in:
What a riot! Because is there anybody who doesn’t already know how to perform all of these tasks? Honestly, what’s next – how to blink your eyes?
I innocently walked into the Walgreens around the corner from my office – my office which is located in San Francisco, California, to the west of the Rockies.
But, like in an episode of the Twilight Zone, I’d apparently walked through some portal into another dimension. This is clearly evidenced by the availability of this product:
What? The? Fuck? I have no idea how that jar of Hellmann’s managed to make it all the way here – presumably after escaping from a Shop-Rite in Queens. I can just see the jar, hopping a west-bound train, hobo-style.
Interesting fact: Best Foods brand mayonnaise is only sold in the western U.S. All other countries are branded “Hellmann’s” – which in Argentina includes Hellmann’s Mayonesa Doblemente Batida (“extra batter style” – sounds, um, battery?) and Salsa Golf (mayonnaise with tomato paste) – and something I wish were offered in this country simply so I could ask “Could I have some Salsa Golf?” when dining out.
OK, I’m actually complaining about the patrons… To wit:
The lady who was sitting in the middle of the highly-populated stretching area whilst reading a novel. And, no, she was not stretching – just kicking back and gettin’ her read on. I did my best to get my sweaty fumes wafting in her direction…
The guy who repeatedly spent ten minutes hunched over his Blackberry in front of the penny-lockers, constantly checking his what were sure-to-have-been very important text messages – presumably along the lines of “I’m working out – what about you?” This was annoying in-and-of-itself – but he was also blocking my access to my preferred corner for stretching my scrawny arms….
The dude in the locker adjacent to mine, who required three stools and a four-foot radius to spread out his various towels, gym clothes, salves and unguents, while I daintily tried to squeeze past to doff my gear.
The pièce de résistance: the dread-locked fellow who emerged shiny and dripping from the steam room and then parked himself in the passage to the showers and vigorously and repeatedly whipped his head forward and back, spraying all and sundry (including yours truly) with the effluvia from his grimy braids. Seriously, my gag reflex got quite the workout – I should’ve just puked on him. Oh, he was also directly in front of the towel hooks, so all the poor saps who’d hung their towels whilst showering were treated to an unwitting rub down with his tonsorial essences.
I’ve been going to Pancho’s for years – their tacos are excellent, thanks in large part to the homemade tortillas and salsas. But every time I visit, I see this poster on the wall and for the life of me I cannot fathom what this movie might be about…
Let’s see: zombie archer, drunken olde-tyme train engineer, Crawford-esque blonde bombshell lookin’ all sexy behind a bullseye, bushy-browed lothario. Honestly, I have no idea how these characters could even be in the same film… But I’m kinda dying to see it…
As I walked home, I passed this chiropractor’s office… And I can’t figure out if this is a chiropractor named Mike Le… Or if it’s a guy named Mike who is fancy and prefers to think of himself as un chiropraticien français. Though it does prove again that everything seemsclassier en français.