Mom likes Queer Eye, too!
OK. I’m at my in-laws’ house, using their computer. I’m the only one awake, because I’m still operating on night-shift time, not holiday time.
Spent an uncomfortable two hours watching “Bringing Down The House” with Iain’s family. And before that, it was Queer Eye For The Straight Guy. My mom-in-law laughed. I laughed. Everyone else said it was retarded.
Oh well.
Shit, I better make this short; I think the typing is waking Iain up.
Poundage imminent.
OK. I’m about to jet outta here, spend some time in Pittsburgh, etc. etc. So yeah, I’ll be gone. The whole weekend. Things may be hinky, but I’ll return and fix them later, I promise.
Have a great Turkey Day.
Sleep is overrated, anyway.
Hey, boys and girls. I’ve missed you.
Just a quick note to let y’all know things will be quite tumultuous at Supafine soon. I’ll be gallivanting around Western P.A., eating turkeys and meeting with members of the Slimy Pebble Whitewater Team [long story, I’ll tell you sometime].
I’m also dumping loads of time into the new web site. Never fear — when the time comes, you’ll know. But just get ready to make a new bookmark, OK? Nothing too tough to remember, just a wee change. I promise, you’ll love it, because it’s consistent, dependable and familiar. Trust me.
In the meantime, I’ll leave you with these words of advice: “Shake it like a Polaroid picture.” [God help Outkast if I ever lay hands on ‘em, because “Hey ya” has been stuck in my head for about six straight days.]
Who in the what now?
Had a really freaky dream last night. I dreamed I had brain cancer. I just knew that I did, and I felt really sorry for myself, because the tumor was making my brain do funny [funny queer, not funny ha-ha] things.
Like, I heard voices. Not burn-the-house-down voices, but actual snippets of long-ago conversations. Sounds outside my head, but near my ear. Since there were no people around me in my dream, I knew that the sounds were being made because of misfiring neurons. Partial memories being re-played in real time, with acoustics.
Of course, the tumor also caused me to make some poor lifestyle choices, such as shooting heroin.
It was a total feeling of helplessness, like this malignant, mean-spirited tumor was playing games with my head.
Now what, I ask, the fuck does this one mean?
The thrill of anticipation.
Iain wants a new camera. A Digital Rebel something-or-other. When he fantasizes, it’s about a Digital Rebel. When he calls out in his sleep, he says, “Digital Rebel.” If he could have an affair with a Digital Rebel, I think he would.
So the question becomes: Should we get one? And I say ‘we,’ because this is a big-ass motherfucking purchase. This is no “slip it in your pocket” cheapo digital camera. This is professional grade, big lenses, manual focus shit. We’re talking megabucks — in the four-digit range.
So do we get it? We’re ostensibly trying to save for a house, but … he’s been losing sleep over this camera since he was in short pants. Or at least since this model came out.
So what’s more important: Having the thing you really want, savoring the anticipation of having it, or saving a thousand bucks? We can’t decide.
Change is good.
So much mini-turmoil in the life of Supa MB. I’ll give you a few hints of the marvelous things to come:
- Work. Shall be moving to the Towson office next week. Much, much closer to home. Fortunately, also full of great people. Very excited. Shall miss my current newspaper.
- Web. Shall be moving to a new domain and publishing system. Much, much more bad-ass. Fortunately, also full of great Supafine content. Very excited. Shall miss … well, nothing really.
OK. Not much turmoil at all, I admit, but damn, it is exciting!
On a repentant note: Synthetic, I want to apologize. I feel I jumped off the handle [is that the expression?] at you the other day. I still am not certain of your identity, but whatever it is, I apologize for the name-calling. [But not the rant]. I am over myself, and life can go on now.
Accidental gumshoes.
Lovely visit with Dan. He documented it very well, but left out one story: The Ubiquitous Dad.
We pulled into the parking garage at the Renaissance Hotel downtown, planning to ooh and ahh at the Harbor and grab some lunch. Some guy in a Passat pulls in immediately behind us. He’s got a little tyke with him, a sober two-year-old. Well, Dad Guy looks like he knows where he’s going — presumably to the stairs — so we follow him. He keeps looking over his shoulder, and we all make a little joke about following him.
At the top of the stairs, Dan and I emerge into the bright sunlight and head down the street. Dad Guy heads the other way. We’re ready to tackle Tourist Town.
A block later we realize Dad Guy is walking in front of us. The four of us pause at the light. He glances quickly at us — two young people, one of whom is carrying an enormous camera — and dashes across the street, tyke in tow. Can you blame him?
We shrug our shoulders at the paranoid man and head up to Pizzeria Uno for some lunch. After, Dan shoots some cool photos from the pedestrian bridge over Pratt Street [I think it’s Pratt]. We cut through the mall … where we see Paranoid Dad Guy and son.
“Strange,” we say, because it’s been about two hours and yet we meet again. At the door, he goes left, we go right, looping around the block so I can have a smoke and find the entrance to the garage. We find it, locate our car, unlock the doors, look up — and there’s Dad Guy! Getting into his car! With his wee son!
“Swear we’re not following you, man,” we say nervously. Dad Guy has forgiven us, though.
“Enjoy your visit?” He’s figured out that we’re not detectives. Merely tourists. We chat, we laugh, we lean on our cars and discuss the area. Reluctantly, we draw the conversation to a close. He pulls out of his space and drives off.
We, of course, followed him.
Hmmm … guess you had to be there.
This post brought to you by: A Poetic Retelling Of An Unfortunate Incident from the album “Letting Off The Happiness” by Bright Eyes.
Ohmigod!
I can’t believe I haven’t posted about this yet. Check yo’ head, Supa.
Photodan is coming to town!! Thursday!! We gonna get our drink on and do the Tour of Baltimore.
Tour of Baltimore includes Supa MB leading Photodan to Very Important Baltimore Landmarks, such as: The Apple Store in Towson, the Wharf Rat in Fells Point, maybe more drinky at The Barn in Parkville, a little Walters Museum action, the Blacks in Wax museum, maybe even more drinky at Tully’s, the Federal Hill Kodak Moment spot, and … of course … the Inner Harbor [fleetingly, and through a bus window].
Quite comprehensive, I assure you. I mean, obviously, I am no Mobtown expert, considering I only moved here like, last week, and never leave my apartment, and don’t even live in the city. But dammit, I have my Insider’s Guide and a street map.
We gonna shake this place up, yo!
Slow on the uptake
Yeah. So I’ve already mentioned that I’m not the hippest, most with-it lass on the block. Which is why it will not surprise you that I’m only just now reading “A.H.W.O.S.G.”
Well, and by “reading” I mean “stumbling through the preface.”
No premature opinions yet, of course. Say, when did this come out?
*flips to title page*
…
2000!!! Am I that far behind the times!? Christ.
Inching ever closer
… Mass. court rules gays entitled to wed.
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