September 5, 2009

Just Feel Like Sharing

These have no point. It's just that I don't get to bullshit much. So I'm just talking out loud here.

1) Yesterday, a tan Nissan Maxima with a scooped hood, you know those hood vent looking things you see on souped up Monte Carlos and Fast and Furious cars, passed me on the highway. At first I thought it was an Oldsmobile Cutlass, which was funny. But then seeing that it was a Nissan Maxima kind of makes it funnier to me. I'm not sure why.

2) In the men's bathroom at my job, they put the air freshener for the entire bathroom in the urinal. They use these quite potent scented mats that lie over the drain, which doesn't work that well because there's always this little puddle of urine sort of floating right above the drain. The mat doesn't do much because it always winds up smelling like shit plus whatever scent they put in there. Like for a while last week, it was like someone had shit into a box of watermelon Bubble Yum. And, for a while, they had a cinnamon one, which was gross because it was hot cinnamon, not sweet cinnamon, so it had this stinging of the eyes quality, that and with the was a bad week or two. And after the mat gets peed on over and over, those scents begin to take some strange turns. Anyway, they rotate the scents quite often, so they're trying to keep it nice and fruity smelling in the men's. I would just hate to be the guy who has to fish that scented pee mat from the urinal, or what his decision process is to pick which scent goes into the urinal. Right now, it's this tropical fruit punch kind of flavor. So, it smells like someone shit into Carmen Miranda's hat.

3) I finally, FINALLY, finished the Flannery O'Connor biography. It was a good book. Really nothing dramatic happened in her life, but it's interesting to see how much of her life became part of her stories. I'm not talking about the religious stuff, which is all over her fiction, but I mean that did you know Good Country People was written shortly after she was sort of spurned by a guy she liked, who she shared a kiss with? So Manley Pointer was inspired by one of her crushes? That's interesting to me. And her remarkable dedication to her writing is absolutely inspiring. She was writing stories up to her death, even snuck a notebook into the hospital so she could work on the stories that would get collected into "Everything Rises Must Converge." By the end of her life, she was living just for the 2 hours a day that she had the strength to write. We all should be so dedicated to what we love.

4) I don't talk to my neighbors, but I can't stand them. Whenever I see them, I just want to tell them to shut the hell up and keep their shitty music down. It's not like this every day, but it feels like it is every fucking day. Right now, I hear that goddamn Mexican oompah music going on through my walls. Just the thrum thrum of bass and some kind of Spanish language and accordion. They may be very nice people if I got to know them. I've said hello to the teenage boy who lives there a couple times, but the more I see that teenager, I don't believe it is a teenager, nor am I sure of the sex. Sometimes that "teenager" looks like he 14, other times, like a short, chubby, worn-out lesbian of 38. But to be honest, I don't want to get to know them, I just want them to keep their fucking music down without me needing to remind them and have some common goddamn courtesy. I've never been a "neighbor" person anyway, preferring my living arrangements to be akin to "I don't bother you, so don't bother me." These pricks sure aren't making me change my mind. What the fuck are they doing over there with the music that loud anyway? Maybe it is a teenager because I sure listened to some loud as fuck tunes when I was all pubescent and stuff. Do lesbians have a similar need to incessantly rock out? Are the Indigo Girls good at MAXIMUM VOLUME? Whatever. I don't care. Fuck my neighbors. Pendejos! Culitos!

viva el mustache

No comments: