the naming of cats is a difficult matter

Saturday afternoon I decided I needed a new uniform. When you’re not having any luck in the world, you can’t change the world and luck is imaginary…so all you can really do is buy some new clothes and/or shave. I went to American Apparel in Scottsdale, and bought this black longsleeve shirt/sweater which when combined with my black pants and white belt, made me look a bit like a sandman from the 1976 movie “Logan’s Run.” I bought an extra small for the hell of it, but when I got home and tried it on, it was too tight(not to mention hot as balls.) So I didn’t want to go right back to the store and exchange it for a small, because I was just in there, and it would be weird. Not sure why I would get anxiety about that, but I just felt like I would appear “wishy washy” to the cashier people. Like they would give me a look like “there’s something amiss with this dude. He just bought this and now he’s returning it 5 minutes later…what a nutjob.” I mean hey, that’s what I would be thinking. So I decided to go to the Tempe American Apparel and exchange it there…which turned out to be an amazing decision, because I was rung up by the friendliest cashier person I’ve ever encountered. Not since I was in a Casino did a person look so happy to take my money…(or in this case my merchandise for exchange.) When she asked me how my day was going I gave my stock answer of “It sucks” which was true enough and she seemed taken aback by that. These customer service questions can become so routine, that I think people are not prepared when you actually give a somewhat genuine response. “That’s not the answer people usually give” she said. Indeed, and just like that she almost seemed like a friend.

I was in a bad mood most of yesterday because the internet was down, and I had a lot of emails and other crap to tend to. I tried to go to the internet cafe and they were closed! Did they go out of business? I watched “Bullitt” with Steve Mcqueen, which I haven’t seen since about 2002. He’s great in it of course…but I’m not a big fan of realism in movies(unless it’s realism of emotion or humor.) I like movies that leave some things to the imagination. Mainly I think it’s just the “realistic” hospital ER scenes that are a bit too much for a hypochondriac like me to watch. I don’t like to see THAT far into my future.

I took a long nap and woke up rather frantically at midnight, just in time to throw on my new AA sweater and head out to Casey Moore’s. Most people I knew were MIA, but strangely everything fell into place. I took the initiative and met some people I had wanted to know for a long time. After the bar closed, during the outside part.. you know, that time when everyone(mostly dudes) stands around in search of nonexistent afterparties or with the fleeting hopes that something interesting will happen, but it rarely ever does…well in that short period of time I met a girl, who agreed to go with me to meet some friends at a cafe. Only when we started driving, we decided neither of us were hungry(not to mention we didn’t find the place) and so instead we went to 24 hour Walmart(an adventure in itself) and purchased an official NCAA basketball. We then drove to a park in Tempe and played basketball until the sun started to come up. We played three games of PIG, with her winning the first game and me the next two. In reality, we were evenly matched as we both sucked about equally…but we could potentially rule as friends with practice.

Today after a brief stint hanging out at Borders reading Darwin Porter’s unsubstantiated gossip filled, unauthorized biography of Steve McQueen “The King of Cool,” I decided to go back to the Tempe American Apparel and buy another of the exact same sweater I purchased the previous day. Miraculously, the same girl was there to ring me up again. I could tell she thought it was odd I was buying a duplicate of the item I had just bought…”hmm you’re getting another black top” she muttered curiously. But I told her that the other one had turned out to be good luck, and she seemed to understand.

Let’s not question our flesh for wanting to remain flesh.

So I’m not sure how it happened, but I’m going through sort of a “viking” phase. I’ve been watching all these old viking movies like “Erik the Conqueror” with Cameron Mitchell and “The Vikings” starring Tony Curtis. And so I grew a beard, and I lift weights while watching these films and just get super excited about the prospects of “vikingdom.” I do have a lot of Norwegian in me and blue eyes so aesthetically it isn’t much of a stretch apart for the fact that I have the body of a 13 year old Nintendo Hotline Game Counselor from 1989. But haveth no fear! If it is the will of Odin, in a few weeks I shall be the equivalent of a fire breathing monster. However, don’t expect me to be rocking much in the way of viking fashions. I’ll stick to my 21st-century American Apparel retro space age outfits. I’m definitely not one of those wacky “Renaissance Fair” costume wearing weirdos even though I do wish we actually lived in a monarchy…as perhaps there wouldn’t be so many billboard advertisements. I’ll keep you all updated on my viking status as we all know how significant this is in the grand scheme of things.

men on the make can go jump in the lake

Just woke up from an antihistamine induced coma. Fell asleep watching “Earthquake”(1974) starring Charlton Heston..a classic with a tear jerker ending. Apparently there actually was an earthquake today(yesterday,) but I certainly didn’t notice it. I went to my grandma’s to eat rack of lamb, and then to American Apparel where I purchased an overpriced white denim jacket, which is officially the most trump tight piece of clothing that I own. I wonder how long I can go without spilling wine on it and ruining it.

Saturday night was “Cheap Thrills” which was jam packed and with all the best people. It was about the most fun I could hope for without the presence of any romance or overt sexual activity. Some band played there that I have never heard of but must have been semi-popular.
Nothing too eventful happened except that Danielle Stanley was there but then she saw someone get beat up so she got disgusted and left. Also, they kind of have those oversized wine glasses there so I was drinking wine and got a little out of control on the dance floor. When I got home it was pushing 3:30 am so I had a bowl of chocolate cheerios and passed out with all my clothes on.

My allergies are kind of going buck wild on me. I’ve been having some mondo-bizarro dreams lately, which I think are the result of antihistamines. Like I had a dream that I was in some gigantic studios and I was going to be in a makeup commercial(!?) and I had to report to the set. It was just like a maze of stucco building corridors sort of similar to the Venetian…
and when I got to the set I was late. I was also really nervous and self conscious, and I knew I was going to have to take my hat off for the shoot, but I hadn’t had a chance to fix my hair or comb it or anything. It’s one of those things where I wear a hat so often that I almost feel naked without it. It’s like taking off your pants. In fact, I once showered with a girl still wearing my hat and socks(but not my pants) Granted it was like 6 in the morning so I was half asleep..so that had something to do with it…but probably not everything. My advice to people would be to always wear the same thing all the time. Whenever I change things up, I get self conscious that people suddenly will change their mind about me. It’s the “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it mentality.” I have seen too many girls that were totally raving beauties, decide to cut all their hair off or make some drastic style change, and they were just never the same after that sort of like in that song “Caroline, No” by the Beach Boys. It’s why I end up wearing the same “lucky” jackets all the time…agonize over whether or not to grow a beard(or whether to shave it) because I always worry that I might disappoint someone. To that you might say “Who gives a shit? Do whatever you want.” But that’s just not my personality and never will be. I’m a diabolical, meticulous, scheming planner and doing something that “comes natural” or “just feels right”… just doesn’t come naturally to me. If it were forced maybe it would feel more natural though!

Anyhow, back to the makeup commercial in my dream. For some reason director Mike Mills was filming something right next door, so I thought about going over to him telling him “Hey you won’t remember me, but I was in some commercials you did about 10 years ago. I’m here to film a makeup commercial right now. Well just wanted to say hi.” But he wasn’t there, when I went over there…there was just a stack of his business cards. So they finally call me up to sit in the chair where we’re going to shoot the makeup commercial…and they don’t make me take off my hat. They don’t even put makeup on me. They just film me for like a second and are like “That’s it we’re done.” It was like one of those sexual experiences when you just get too excited and can’t last no matter how many algebraic equations or skateboard tricks you do in your head to get your mind off the possibility of impregnating the undeniably sexy girl in your bed. And so I was like what? I flew all this way just for this? But I was glad to get out of the situation without having to remove my clothing or subject myself to anything that I would consider too degrading.

I also never got around to learning what a guy like me who doesn’t wear makeup and hopefully doesn’t need makeup was actually doing appearing in a women’s makeup commercial? On some level though, dreams always make sense. Like what’s hiding behind what’s made up? And perhaps I’m the star of a makeup commercial, because of my long career of concealing things behind images and characters I have created as well as poses which successfully shield me from my insecurities. And it’s not going to stop any time soon! This entry is though, as it’s getting about as gay as it could possibly get. It’s been skirting the line of “Some Like it Hot” territory.

P.S. The true origin of this dream is that I was reading Raquel Welch’s autobiography when I fell asleep. In it she talks a lot about her techniques for applying makeup to help her look younger! And she’s 69 and still every bit the babe that was looking for the firedragon in Fathom circa 1967! So yeah that’s why I had that dream, but it’s fun to think about all that other stuff.

Never a lightning rod salesman around when you need one

Saturday afternoon, after grabbing a turkey burger from Johnny Rockets at Fashion Square in Scottsdale, I cruised over to Tempe to distribute promotional materials and stumbled into the gigantic arts and crafts festival on Mill ave…which reminded me of South By Southwest except with less hipsters and more old folks. Still, I love going to these and wish the arts and crafts festival went on every weekend even though that would just cheapen the coin of the realm and less people would go. It always seems like the artifacts one could pick up at these types of events could lead to some cliche
horror movie haunting along the lines of the clock in “Amityville 1992: It’s About Time” Speaking of which, Megan Ward was so hot in that! Whatever happened to her? Many of my most romantic sexual fantasies from the 90’s involved her and that scene where she is seduced by her own reflection. As a further digression, I had a talking PeeWee Herman doll when I was a kid..the one where you pull the string and PeeWee says one of his catch phrases like “I know you are but what am I” etc. And I swear that occasionally that thing would just somehow talk on its own, which scared the shit out of me. It creeped me out so much that I made my mom hide it in the
closet.

The night at Casey Moore’s brought to town a metaphoric carnival of sorts, with various sideshows of drama, suspense, bearded ladies, merry go rounds and mirror mazes(sorry I have been reading Something Wicked this Way Comes and have these things on the brain.) I drank more than usual, so I wasn’t myself. Yes, I’m a lightweight, and two full classes of wine gets me more inebriated than I need to be and sets me off into full on mischief mode. I was trying to protect a super drunk girl who epitomizes female perfection from some really ugly, wack and disgusting guys…although it sort of turned out the girl didn’t want to be protected and was semi-enthusiastic about said dudes….which triggered a sort of “Invasion of The Body Snatchers” moment where I’m Dr. Miles J. Bennell and just discover by way of passionless kiss that someone near and dear has been replaced by a pod. Anyhow, as I’ve mentioned I’m reading “Something Wicked This Way Comes” which, aside from being a great book title, sounds a lot like the type of prediction I’m likely mutter to myself at the start of each day. The last time I saw the film version starring Jason Robards was when it initially played a plethora of times on HBO back in 1984. It terrified me as a small boy, but for some reason I could never resist watching it whenever it came on, usually in the mornings. It affected me deeply..and “the most beautiful woman in the world” as an evil temptress sequences may have contributed to my misogyny later in life(as well as induced some premature stirrings of sexuality down there.) I remembered how frighteningly traumatizing the movie was for me, and so I never saw it again even when I got older…but I think I’m ready now.

I bought a snazzy black denim jacket from American Apparel, which fits right in with my new phase of only wearing combinations of the colors “black and white”

the crying game

I’ve been lounging around all weekend in this new track suit I got from American Apparel. It’s my favorite thing ever. I think I’m going to buy like 5 of them and that will be all I wear.

Friday night I went to First Friday, and then Hot Pink. Hot Pink sucks now, like no one goes, but I danced with Susan and Becky the whole time which is always great. There was a scantily clothed transvestite dancing, and later we found out that Jeff didn’t know it was a guy, and he was kind of aroused. He was all “oh there’s half naked girls dancing this is great!”, and I was like “Jeff, that was a man with breast implants”. He was totally taken aback and then got kind of bummed out. As we were leaving I told Clint it was like “the crying game” in that place. We went to Casey Moore’s for the last hour, and ran into tons of more people. People were surprised to see me in such good spirits since I had been so sick the week before.

Saturday, Clint and I relaxed all afternoon. We ate at Nello’s, and went to Fry’s electronics to look at movies. Clint bought “Asylum of Satan”(an obscure 70’s film), and I was kind of jealous cause I’ve been wanting to see that for a while. I didn’t find any of the movies I was looking for.

Went to Casey Moore’s and met up with Kim and Jeff where we ate. I had a gihugic fish sandwich.