(and that's all I am)
|
|
| I Am What I Am (and that's all I am) |
|
|
Thursday, October 31, 2002 Since we haven't yet gotten cable out here in the country, we have a mere three channel choices for our viewing displeasure. This tragedy has led to many viewings of an insipid daytime show called The Other Half, in which Danny Bonaduce, Dick Clark, Mario from Saved by the Bell and some other dude sell their souls to Satan. Anyway, today's episode, of course, was the Halloween episode. If you saw it, then you are no doubt as scarred as I now am. Dick Clark was dressed as Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz! I couldn't believe it, but that wasn't the end. Danny Bonaduce – holy shit! – delivered what is unquestionably the most horrifying and soul-shattering drag version of Lucy Ricardo. Man oh man, was it a sight! They had a line of kids coming up for candy and you could see the terror and confusion in these kids' eyes. My eyes bled, I swear to God. posted by Rick Bradford E-Mail Me | 10/31/2002 06:00:00 PM Wednesday, October 30, 2002 Flashback Post from my journal Monday, February 18, 2002 Amy and Jonah graced us with their company this evening. We got take-out and discussed the important issues of the world (Truth, self-confidence, driving, why not to be afraid of cameras). I'm really going to miss having other people around with whom we can discuss the things we think about (things, I mean, that extend beyond what was on tv last night and who's zooming who at work). We're just going to miss Amy & Jonah period. In fact, by the time this sees print we'll already be in Fredericksburg and having withdrawals. [Yes, it's absolutely true. We miss 'em very much and hope to see 'em soon.] posted by Rick Bradford E-Mail Me | 10/30/2002 09:31:00 PM Since there won't be a second issue of I Am What I Am, the zine, I've decided to post some of my past journal entries here. Why not? Flashback Post from my journal Tuesday, February 12, 2002 Fat Tuesday Annette had to work, but I went downtown to the big Mardi Gras shindig in the Gaslamp this evening. I stood in line for something like 40 minutes just to pay for admission. Then when I got to the gate, the guy told me "no backpacks". Now, considering our post-September 11th world, I checked the website last night to see if there was any such rule. There was not. Nor was there a sign anywhere at the entrance. Nor did anybody at the ticket counter bother to tell me before I forked over my dough. I argued with the guy for a minute and got nowhere. They wouldn't even search it. He suggested I leave it in my car, but clever me, I took the trolley down since it's what they suggested on the website. Actually, I think I am pretty clever. What I ended up doing was going around the corner, emptying my backpack into my pockets and wearing it under my coat. I went into the Mardi Gras area and no one was the wiser. The festival itself was interesting. I'd never been to any Mardi Gras celebrations, but I know enough to know this one was pretty lame. There were only a couple of music stages and seemed to be very little ethnic music. Mostly, it was just wall-to-wall drunk people, a scenario I typically don't dig. I was, however, pleasantly surprised at the number of people who apologized when – or at least acknowledged when – they ran into me or stepped on my foot or whatever. I can say it wasn't the worst drunken crowd I've been in. Until boobs went on display. Then they (the men, I mean) turned into animals – and not the cute, loveable animals people like, either. Pushing, shoving, knocking people out of the way, just for a glimpse. What a pathetic display. Now, don't get me wrong. Anyone who knows me very well knows I enjoy a bit of naked flesh, but I also know I can enjoy Nature's bounty without being an asshole about it. Still, more power to the women. I don't even like to take my shirt off at the beach and that's more or less socially acceptable. posted by Rick Bradford E-Mail Me | 10/30/2002 09:28:00 PM The Orchid comix anthology (Sparkplug Comic Books) features adaptations of Victorian stories, some of them in a macabre vein. I was reading through the book tonight, got most of the way through Kevin Huizenga's remarkable piece and decided I'd had enough. I was spooked. Granted, I live in a creaky old house out in the country. Out here, the nights are darker than dark and I hear all kinds of unexplainable noises. Plus, the wind is kicking up quite a bit tonight. So I decided I'd better pick it back up in the light of day. It was all too much for me. Instead, I read the latest issue of Steve Willis' Bezango, WA 985 and started the new issue of The Free Press Death Ship. By the way, even though I've not yet finished Orchid, I've read enough to recommend it. Do yourself a favor and order a copy. posted by Rick Bradford E-Mail Me | 10/30/2002 09:17:00 PM Monday, October 28, 2002 Here's a scenario for you: I'm driving down a four-lane road (two lanes going each way). I'm the only car on the road; there's nobody in the other lane. Up ahead, I see a car that's about to pull on to the street. Now. Why is it that that person always pulls into my lane instead of the empty lane? This usually results in my having to decelerate to a ridiculous pace until they get up to speed or me having to quickly hit my brakes in order to avoid rear-ending them. What is wrong with people?! posted by Rick Bradford E-Mail Me | 10/28/2002 12:34:00 PM Sunday, October 27, 2002 Okay, so I finally gave in to this blog hoo-hah that all the kids are so crazy about. I didn't think I had much reason to, but since I've very nearly decided not to publish a second issue of I Am What I Am the zine, I figured this would be a workable substitute. I plan on posting whenever I feel like it about whatever I feel like writing about. How's that for a mission statement? Your input is most welcome. posted by Rick Bradford E-Mail Me | 10/27/2002 09:03:00 PM |
|
|
|
|
|||||||||
|
 |
||||||||||||
|
|||||||||||||