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Sunday, October 30, 2005

I wonder if the world would be a better place if Tupac had actually written a song called "My Ambitionz az a Writer", in which he discusses his literary goals.
Maybe it was because I had been working for ten straight hours, but for some reason my co-workers' awful, awful work demeanor and attention to customer needs was extra funny last night/this morning.

Saturday, October 29, 2005

An Open Letter to Alexander P. Karrer


I’ve been working in the food service industry for a long time. I’ve always enjoyed it, and as a rule I do my best give the most ideal service possible, and do it with a positive attitude. I’ve had a lot of experiences in that time, some bad, most of them enjoyable. But I don’t think I’ve ever had quite as an infuriating experience as I did when you, on Friday, October 28th, wrote the following:

"The blonde waiter sucks nuts. He is the worst fucking server I have ever had. I hope he burns in hell + have his dick chopped off + fed to him. Your friends, Table of 6. Bitches!!"

I’ll be the first to admit that your food didn’t come out as quickly as it would in normal circumstances. But the justification for the time you had to wait for your food isn’t really important. What is more important to me is how you handled it.

You never once made a complaint to me. You did speak to the manager and berate me behind my back without giving me a chance to make my case. You did leave an incredibly insulting note and speed off without owning up to it. There’s a host of words that people use for those who use passive-aggressive tactics to express themselves without taking any responsibility for their actions. Among them: coward, meek, afraid, childish, immature, and of course the more vulgar pussy, all of which fit your behavior on Friday night.

In the mind of many children, if they can no longer sense a person or situation, the person or situation ceases to exist. As a result, the child believes they are free to behave however they like and leave situations without conscience. But the real world isn’t one without consequences—there are real people and real lives that are affected by the actions of those around us. And there are also real consequences to our actions, even if we speed away from them in the hopes that if we don’t look, they will disappear.

I write this note in the hopes that you will realize that what you did had real consequences that lingered after your wrote your little note, and after you and your friends drove off like scared puppy dogs. We live in a world of reactions, Alex, and some people in this world, in this country, in this state, in this city—indeed in that restaurant, would have happily used your name, credit card information, the internet, and the knowledge of what kind of car you drive to do more than to just write you a note. Think before you act, sweetheart.

If you ever grow the balls to make good on your threats or apologize like a person of any character would, you know where I work.


The Blonde Waiter
I first discovered Steven Johnson's Everything Bad Is Good For You in June 2005, during my time reading online articles at my job manning the paystation at an internet cafe in New Zealand.

The book makes the case that while conventional wisdom (a phrase originally coined by economist John Kenneth Galbraith, who did not consider it a compliment) dictates that television and video games are rotting our brains (Dr. Spock says that video games are a "colossal waste of time"), they are actually making us smarter. Complex plotlines of present-day television and the immense Grand Theft Auto and Civilization universes and the choices to make within them are all developing skills within viewers and players in a way unlike previous pop culture.

I finally got around to buying it, and I'm only 40 pages into it at the moment, but a passage I read in those introductory pages quickly reminded me of that first article on (the review for Everything can be found here).

Bookslut's Liz Miller gives the book an overall positive review, but concludes with criticism of the overall idea behind the project:
In examining the sharp evolution of these media, Johnson makes out complexity to be its own reward. But what are the ordinary Americans who benefit doing with their new mental prowess? Are they applying their increased ability to reason and theorize towards greater advances in technology and science? Are they better able to cope with others via the social logic learned from The Apprentice? Or are they simply better able to navigate onto the next game stage and comprehend Tony Soprano's latest business dealings?

We may be getting smarter. But if there's no purpose to it, then wouldn't we be better off giving our brains a break?
In those first forty pages, we find this passage from Johnson whose lines Miller may have forgotten to read between:
We teach algebra to children knowing full well that the day they leave the classroom, ninety-nine percent of those kids will never directly employ their algebraic skills. Learning algebra isn't about acquiring a specific tool; it's about building up a mental muscle that will come in handy elsewhere. You don't go to the gym because you're interested in learning how to operate a StairMaster; you go to the gym because operating a StairMaster does something laudable to your body, the benefits of which you enjoy during the many hours of the week you're not on a StairMaster.
In other words, the benefits of watching modern television shows and playing games like The Sims or Final Fantasy translate into more areas than just how we entertain ourselves. They can work their way into our professional lives, and assist in making decisions in our personal affairs as well.

I may be jumping to conclusions here, but Miller's statement seems less like a well-thought-out criticism than something she felt she should write for the sake of not giving the book a completely positive review. Lan wrote a few months back, in a review of Jared Diamond's Guns, Germs, and Steel about a criticism from Gregg Easterbrook of Diamond's arguments something to the effect that it wasn't that it was a bad criticism necessarily, but that the criticism has already been addressed in the book.

This is part of what often turns me off about many cultural critics, and the idea of writing professional criticism in general. I am by no means a professional--I'm barely an amature--but I understand and have experienced the feeling of wanting to produce a full-bodied review, rather than just a beacon of positivity for the subject of the review, but not knowing exactly how to do it. My feelings about the type of argument Miller makes aren't particular to her, they're an overall sense of annoyance with many cultural critics that is well-documented with her review.

But like I said, maybe I'm being over-anxious. Maybe Miller just didn't understand the argument.
From Leo Tolstoy's What is Art?
As is always the case, the more cloudy and confused the conception conveyed by a word, with the more aplomb and self-assurance do people use that word, pretending that what is understood by it is so simple and clear that it is not worthwhile even to discuss what it actually means. (12)

John Kenneth Galbraith, quoted from Steven D. Levitt and Stephen J. Dubner's Freakonomics:
We associate truth with convenience, with what most closely accords with self-interest and personal well-being or promises best to avoid awkward effort or unwelcome dislocation of life. We also find highly acceptable what contributes most to self-esteem. . . .

(Economics and social behavior) are complex, and to comprehend their character is mentally tiring. Therefore we adhere, as though to a raft, to those ideas which represent our understanding. (89-90)

Friday, October 28, 2005

I don't know if I've ever been as infatuated with a girl as I was with MO between 1998 and 2000. At one point, I enjoyed a brief but illicit (which made it all the more exciting) relationship with her, that ended for reasons unimportant to this story. In the Summer of 2000, I bought a pair of tickets to see Nine Inch Nails for the two of us as a graduation gift, but more because I remembered her telling me at one point that "whoever I go see that concert with is going to get so lucky that night."

It seemed like a good plan, but when my then-girlfriend, AH, produced a pair of tickets for the two of us to go see the concert as an actual graduation gift, I knew I was going to have to do one of two things:

1. Tell the truth
2. Lie extravagantly

After waiting the longest time possible, I opted for number one, and told her that I bought tickets for MO and I, as a gesture of friendship. She saw right through this and was furious, as one might expect. The damage might have been minimized if we had just brought another person (which I did--my best friend Joey) and all gone together (but probably not). The problem was that the concert was at The Summit (the arena where the Houston Rockets played; it is now Lakewood Church), and the tickets AH bought were in designated seats. The ones I bought were on the floor. We would have to split up somehow.

My solution to the problem was that the people who were the biggest Nine Inch Nails fans would use the floor tickets and the other two would sit in the seats. This, of course, meant that MO and I would be together, and AH and Joey would sit in the seats. I didn't really make it an option, but more of a command, and so that's what we did.

Joey later told me that AH sat through the concert steaming, and feeling, I imagine, like a complete idiot who has the world's biggest asshole for a boyfriend. When it was over, I didn't get lucky by any means by either MO or AH, and AH began yelling and crying at me during the drive home--probably the first time that I realized how selfish I was being.

The moral of the story is: if your girlfriend buys you tickets to a show that you already have tickets to with another girl, you should probably just tell your girlfriend that you have plans to go out of town and suggest that she sell the tickets on eBay so you can make sure you don't run into her there. At least there will be a better chance of you getting lucky after the show.
Google Maps has revolutionized how we look up the locations of things. Things like gas prices and sex offenders, specifically.
Well, I guess my well-thought-out reasons not to approve the Miers nomination didn't really matter anyway.

Thursday, October 27, 2005

What song was number one when you were born?

Me: "Endless Love" by Lionel Richie and Diana Ross, which has pretty much been the theme song to my entire life.

Monday, October 24, 2005

The eleventh studio album by Scorpions, Love at First Sting, went triple-platinum in 1986, two years after its 1984 release.

Bob Dylan's Blonde on Blonde, originally released in 1966, finally went double-platinum in 2003.

Having only heard a couple of tracks off of Love at First Sting (including "Rock You Like A Hurricane"), I can't say for sure if this is a grave injustice or not.
Last night at work, a manager who I'd never met before, a woman in her early twenties who was probably in good shape at one time, confronted me with the information that I couldn't wear my wait book (which contains money and other various paper) tucked into the back of my pants.

"I think it's against health code, and besides, it looks kind of tacky."

She didn't seem really interested in enforcing her statement, and I disagreed with both of her reasons, especially since she didn't really seem sure about either one. For the record, I work at a restaurant that has a very relaxed dress code and no uniform. Tacky is one of the friendlier words I would use to describe the dress of most employees there. I left the book where it was.

An hour later, she told me again that I couldn't wear it.

"I reject both of your reasons for telling me that," I told her. "If you're sure it's against health code, that's one thing. But I'm not even using it at tables, just to hold money. And the tacky part doesn't even enter the argument. Besides, I guess I could carry the book under my arm the rest of the night, but I don't think I'm going to do that."

She kind of looked at me for a second and I walked away. A minute later, she came to me again, and looked me up and down.

"I'll let you keep it there tonight, but only because you aren't wearing the right apron."

I stammered for a moment, frustrated. "Aaah--are you capable of making a rational argument?"


"If your reason for letting me keep the book in my pants is because I'm not wearing the correct apron, that doesn't make sense either. Why reward me for breaking the rules? If you're going to allow me to keep the book there, then do it because it isn't against health code and it looks just fine."

"Calm down, Christopher, you can keep the book there for tonight."

I stopped trying and said that sounded fine.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

"I bet you could pick up a ton of girls if you worked at Whole Foods," I said.

"PE picks up girls at the grocery store. He's just picking up girls all the time," Lan said.

"He's so fucking awesome."

"Why are you two such scumbags?"

"Hey, I'm just trying to meet my soulmate. I figure the more girls I pick up, the better chance I'll have of finding the one."

"You're not going to find your soulmate by picking up random hoes."

"Maybe my soulmate's a random hoe. You don't know."
"I've dated a Hispanic guy before," my sister said.

"Hispanic guys have small penises," I said.

"Yeah," my sister agreed.

"Why would you say something like that?" my mom asked.

"Because I view the world in terms of stereotypes."

Best Porn Title Ever

Thursday, October 20, 2005

Sometimes when I'm the only white person in the classroom, and all the kids are running around the class like animals, and I'm yelling at them and wishing I had a whip to crack but instead call security to pick the worst of them up, I feel more than a little bit like a British colonial overlord attempting to civilize the natives.

Reasons Not to Approve the Miers Nomination

- Not a judge
- Doesn't really have a good enough grasp on constitutional law to adequately answer questions by a committee of senators
- Not a very good writer
- Of the opinion that George W. Bush was the "best governor ever"
- Not very good at applying mascara
- An evangelical Christian who thinks that Halloween is the celebration of the devil
- Probably not very well-groomed "down there"
- An evil robot sent back in time to take over the Supreme Court and legislate from the bench new laws that make unfeeling robots our lords and masters

Basically all I'm saying is that if you want some futuristic robot broad with messy eye makeup ruling in favor of cancelling Halloween in favor of back-breaking labor at the hands of Robbie the Robot, then go ahead and approve her. As for me, I'm saying yes to emotional freedom and well-kept genitals, and no to the nomination and slavery.

Monday, October 17, 2005

Tom Waits' top ten albums. The man's got good taste, as you would expect. But if he was going to pick an Elvis Costello album, why the new one?
At the end of the day at most middle schools, the teachers have to walk the students out to the bus to make sure the halls are cleared and that there is order in the school. A couple of weeks ago while substitute teaching at one of these schools, I was walking the children to the school bus at the end of the day, and one of the students was so excited about leaving, he began yelling nonsensically, not unlike an excited primate during feeding time. A real teacher noticed.

"Excuse me!" he yelled. "Come here!"

The student walked over, ashamed.

"I said come here. Not a few feet away. Here."

The student walked over there, and began staring down at his shoes.

The teacher demanded his name, got a first name, demanded a real name, both first and last, and got what he wanted.

'Man, what is he gonna do?' I wondered, taking mental notes.

The teacher leaned in close and spoke in a soft but dangerous voice. "In this school, you will be quiet and show respect when you're walking down the hallway. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir," the student mumbled, humiliated.

The teacher looked at me. "Keep these kids quiet out here!"

I gasped. "Yes sir!"

I've developed a taste for power now that I've understood some methods for controlling school children, and with the tactics I learned from this teacher and a twist of my own, I proudly believe I can humiliate and bully the most troublesome students into submission. Here's the plan:

1. Student misbehaves (yelling, cussing, disobeying orders, not staying on task, looking as if he or she has mischief on their mind).
2. I call out boldly to student and tell them to come to me. If they don't come exactly where I want them to be, I repeat myself and remind them loudly and boldly that I asked them to come here, not over there.
3. I ask student's name.
4. Receive first name.
5. Quickly flip through rolodex of pop culture celebrities with same first name, and ask them if that's who they are. ("Christina who? Christina Aguilera? What, you think you're some kind of pop star? You gonna sing me a song Christina Aguilera? You a genie in a bottle? Is that what you are? You gonna make a million dollars and do a song with Redman? I don't think so. What's your last name, Christina?")
6. Get last name.
7. Ask them boldly while student is here to follow my instructions and otherwise behave.
8. Student will probably behave, at least for the next few minutes. If things start getting out of hand again, call student by celebrity name and make a few more references to celebrity. ("Christina Aguilera! I see you haven't even completed the third question of the assignment! You too busy doing duets with Ricky Martin to finish what your teacher asked you to do? You know this is for a grade. Come on, Christina Aguilera."
9. Repeat.
10. Note: This tactic may not work as often for students in low socio-economic areas, as they have weirder names. ("What's your name? Shawana? Shawna what? Shawana, uh, Whitney? Why don't you go, uh, you know, invent the cotton gin? Damn, nevermind. Just sit down."; "What's your name? What? Ecchumati? Damn, how do you spell that shit? Where the hell are you from? Whatever.")

Sunday, October 16, 2005

On August 12, 2005, I wrote a brief post on a conversation I had with what seemed to be a proud but delusional mother who told me that "a lot of UT kids wish they were at St. Ed's."

I commented that a lot of parents probably tell themselves that when their kids don't get into UT.

Then on Friday, October 14th, 2005, an anonymous reader suggested my comments might have been a bit over the top.

Read the post, his (or her, right ladies?) original comment, my reply, his/her response to my reply, and my ultimate reponse here.

Anonymous poster, please feel free to let your feelings be known on this and any other post on Life of Zane, and let it never be said that Christopher Zane won't let complaints of his writing and opinions be addressed publicly.

Friday, October 14, 2005

Tips for IMing

Here are some abbreviations that may make your AIM or other instant messaging conversations easier:

- LOL = Laugh out loud.
- OMG = Oh my God.
- 8========D = Here is an alphanumeric representation of a penis.
- 8========D..... = Here is an alphanumeric representation of an overly-excited penis.
- OMG LOL 8========D..... = Oh my God, ha ha ha ha (out loud), I just ejaculated all over my keyboard.
- HOAMIHTGGAWTTOCTSOOMKWBCITTSOWHBMLADL = Hold on a minute I have to get a wet towel to clean this shit off or my keyboard will be caked in the telltale signs of what has become my lonely and depressing life.
For Lan: Dinosaur Comics.

I already knew you were right, but when Dinosaur Comics backs it up, there's pretty much no doubt.
I assisted my father on a piano move today at the Alamo Drafthouse. The Drafthouse was hosting two shows titled "The Videogame Pianist". The title, I assumed, meant that the pianist would be playing video game songs to video footage of various games. I further confirmed my suspicion when after we set up the piano, the pianist began playing the theme song from The Legend of Zelda.

The manager asked us to come back at 11:30 p.m. to pick up the piano, but when we arrived at that time, the show was still going. We walked into the theatre and watched him finish a song. At first I was puzzled because while he was playing suspenseful music to Mario Brothers footage (that I didn't recognize as the Mario Brothers theme song), he continued playing the song even after the demo being played beat the level.

'I guess he's just playing random music to video game footage,' I reasoned to myself. He finished the song and left the stage, the audience applauding wildly. He returned a moment later with a bow, and then left the stage again, only to return again to do an encore, which the crowd seemed to appreciate.

""A Whole New World": Aladdin soundtrack," he announced.


When he finished, the audience applauded and he left the stage, returned, bowed, left, and returned again. This time his encore was a medley of Eminem songs. The audience applauded, and he left the stage, returned, bowed, left, and returned again. Then he played the theme song from Beauty and the Beast. The video game footage began to recycle itself (the entire set of footage being a bunch of demos from Super Mario Brothers). He left and came back again, and announced:

"Improvisation on themes from Microsoft Windows," which was exactly what the title would suggest.

He proceeded to leave and come back again. And again. ('Has he just been getting up after every single song since the beginning of the set?' I wondered, completely in earnestness.) And again. And again, until he finally had returned for eleven encores, since we had been there. People finally began leaving, and I silently and then not silently began wishing that people would just stop clapping.

When the MC announced the end of the show, he said that the official encore count was twenty-one. And I was annoyed when I saw Spoon last year and they came back for four.

Tuesday, October 11, 2005

From the Executive Summary of the No Child Left Behind Act of 2001:
"Local educational agencies must give students attending schools identified for improvement, corrective action, or restructuring the opportunity to attend a better public school, which may include a public charter school, within the school district."
Not for the first time, I noticed today that many of the kids in the decidedly wealthier (read: whiter) school I coached at today didn't seem like they were from the area. They kept saying things like "Yo no soy de esta área," and "Eastside fo life, bitch."

One of the students I spoke to today was a sixteen-year-old sophomore who didn't want to participate in gym activities. Instead she sat in a chair, flanked on each side by what looked like to obedient cronies.

"Why aren't you dressed out?" I asked her.

"Because I have a hurt foot. Can't you see these crutches, esse?"

I let it slide. As the rest of the class played basketball and volleyball, I chatted with the student and her cronies, who for anonymity's sake, I'll call "Harriet Tubman."

The girls asked me where I lived--"East Side, West Side, what?"--and I told them. I guessed that they must live near the school.

"Hell nah, it's Eastside, fool. I guess they didn't want me at my old school so they put me here."

She went on to tell me how she got kicked out of multiple schools in the past for various reasons--hitting a principal in the face, beating up a classmate, cussing, and generally not giving a fuck, nigga.

Somehow the topic turned to parenthood, and Harriet let me know that she was the mother of a two-year-old girl. Yes, a two-year-old, which means she was fourteen when she had her. She then went on to tell me stories about how her baby daddy was in jail ("That nigga can go to hell. He tried to steal my baby girl away so I got him on lockdown."), her plans for the future ("I don't give a fuck, mister."), and parenting tips ("Here's a picture of my baby girl. Look what I taught her!" (Shows a picture on her camera phone of a two-year-old girl giving the middle finger.))

The NCLB Act of 2001 comes into play when I asked her this question:

"How are you doing at this school since you moved from your old one?"

Her response:

"I'm just the same. Niggas try to trip on me all the time and if people start wylin' I'ma bust they ass once my foot get better. I'll get kicked out of here, too. I don't care."

Is the NCLB Act ineffective because it's being implemented incorrectly (with unskilledd or unwilling teachers and administrators) or was it a flawed idea in the first place? Admittedly, the portion quoted above is only part of it--but it's a big part. It's not just the option to send a kid to a different school if the one in the area is doing poorly, it's an opportunity for poor schools to get rid of poor students (behavior and gradewise) and inflate their score average (another function of the NCLB Act), while watering down the average of a more successful school.

A more important question, rather than How can I get my student out of this awful school? might be Why are the students in this school doing so poorly? Mandatory state testing and accountability measures may create a flurry of activity when it comes time to turn in grades, but it certainly doesn't seem to be affecting any real change.
I was at the grocery store earlier and saw Disney's Pocahontas for sale.

"I'd poke her hontas," I said. I looked around to see if anyone was chuckling to themselves, but no one was.
Basically, this scene from American Psycho is what every man thinks, deep down in his black, selfish heart.
If they have a good personality, then something is very wrong.

If they have a good personality and they are not great looking--who fucking cares?

Well, let's just say hypothetically, okay? What if they have a good personality?
(He smiles giving up)
I know, I know--

There are no girls with good personalities!
(They laugh and high-five each other)

A good personality consists of a chick with a little hardbody who will satisfy all sexual demands without being too slutty about things and who will essentially keep her dumb fucking mouth shut.

Listen, the only girls with good personalities who are smart or maybe funny or halfway intelligent or even talented--though God knows what the fuck that means--are ugly chicks.


And this is because they have to make up for how fucking unattractive they are.

Monday, October 10, 2005

"What are you reading?" I asked ST.

She turned the book over. It was Jack Kerouac's Subterraneans.

"Jack Kerouac," I said, "bah."

"You don't like Jack Kerouac? Not even On the Road?"

"No, it's not that, it's just that I've made it my goal to beat up every literary figure in American history, and I haven't made it to him yet."

"What? Beat up, like physically?"

"Yeah. I've already beaten up Bret Easton Ellis and James Baldwin, but Baldwin doesn't really count 'cause he's gay."

"What is wrong with you?"

Saturday, October 08, 2005

Last night at work, a couple of lesbians sat down at one of my tables. They ordered some food, and after eating, asked for the check. I knew they were lesbians because one of them was butch (had a short haircut and wore masculine clothes), and the other one was femme (longer hair, more feminine but still not attractive to me). The ladies paid and left. When I picked up the money (with a pretty good tip!), I found this:

If you can't read it, it says:
I'm kind of desperate and slutty, but totally disease free. Would love to do you. Call any time xxx-xxxx (the femme one)
Work was otherwise uneventful.

Friday, October 07, 2005

"Sometimes I'd rather be right than kind," SI said.

"Well, you can be both," I said, "but if people are being willfully ignorant, I have no problem beating them into their place."

"Yeah," she said.

"Like people who like Incubus."

Wednesday, October 05, 2005

Andy asked me last night who I thought the top five bands making music today were.

"Tough question," I said. "Where do we draw the line? I mean, are Dylan and Neil Young eligible? They're still making music . . ."

"No," he said. "They can't have been around longer than, say, 1998."

But on his list he included the Flaming Lips (who I adore), who he quickly noted have been together since the 80s.

I had a discussion with PW about objectively qualifying music this summer. An audiophile himself, PW and I were often discussing our top lists--in particular the best American and British bands. As an enormous follower of punk music, PW had some different ideas than I did for his picks, but our discussion showed that we held similar ways of arriving at our conclusions.

I argued that in order for a band to be considered great as a band (which I consider to be a different question than individual works), they have to be consistent enough in their work to show that their genius wasn't fleeting.1 Additionally, one of the most important factors in considering the overall worth of a band is how successful they are in achieving what they set out to do. If an album is meant to be a work of heartbreaking tenderness and it comes off to the trained ear as an adolescent diary entry (Bright Eyes), or a Depeche Mode-influenced dance-rock album that's trying to give you a hard-on but leaves you with a windsock (the Killers, the Bravery) it's probably not all it's cracked up to be.

Keeping all this in mind, what I figured I needed to answer this question were five current bands who are consistently making important and potent music. Here are my answers, in some assemblance of order:

5. Outkast
4. The Flaming Lips
3. Green Day
2. Beck
1. Wilco

Honorable mentions go to Broken Social Scene, Jay-Z, Arcade Fire (who will almost certainly belong on this list in the future), the Strokes, Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, the White Stripes, Common, and the RZA.2

1This is why bands like the Sex Pistols and the Stone Roses won't make any of my all-time lists.

2It is important to note that a number of these bands have single albums (or even two) that outshine the best work of some of the artists on the top five. I acknowledge this, but at this point I feel like it would be pre-emptive of me to put them on a list like this one until they record more music.

Tuesday, October 04, 2005

Y'all Niggaz be Wylin'

I asked one of the administrators at the high school I taught at today, a severe but attractive black woman, about disciplinary methods.

"Don't be afraid to be tough. A lot of teachers say that you shouldn't stoop to their level . . . but I generally disagree with that."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Don't be afraid to be ghetto," she said. "Don't be afraid to use their words, their slang."

"Oh, I see."

"One of our teachers, Mrs. Laing, uses 'crunk' quite often. Like, 'Don't make me get crunk up in here with y'all,' for example."

I know Mrs. Laing--she's one of those white teachers in her mid-fifties who has never been cool in her life, not even in the sixties.

"And don't them get you down about your skin color, either," she continued. "A lot of them will just write you off because you're white. Just be tough."

Later, when one of the black pregnant freshman I was teaching today yelled "You best get up out my face white boy," at me, I responded that I knew she didn't want me to have to get crunk up in here. The class erupted with laughter, and I sent several kids to the principal.
"Man, my apartment is starting to look great," I said.

"Why, did you put up a bunch of pictures of naked ladies?" asked SI.

"No, I installed a bunch glory holes."


Monday, October 03, 2005

Woman, I can hardly express my mixed emotions at my thoughtlessness.

Please visit Harmonium, the music review website that I write for! I only have one review posted so far, but it's pretty damned good.