How to Make It in Life

I am a wiener in chaos
a lone sentry in the eye of the maelstrom
unmoved by the conspiring forces
that threaten to rip me apart
and in different directions
until I am but a tattered wiener

I am a wiener in chaos
I stand alone
my helmet cocked to one side
a bubblegum cigarette
dangling from my lips
a puff of cornstarch
is spirited up into the gale
I feel the inevitable
closing in
but I am steadfast and firm
my resolve does not waver
as I shut my eyes
as tight as I'm able

I am a wiener in chaos

"You need to take a long walk off a slow pier."

- as said to me in all earnestness by a frustrated co-worker

Yes, it's been that sort of week.

There's an ice cream truck blaring ice cream music in front of my apartment building. It's 9 o'clock at night. Isn't it past a lot of kids' bedtimes? So what could he be doing there? Perhaps it's an ice cream truck for adults, and the creepy ice cream man is selling flavorful frozen penis popsicles and pudendum-shaped eskimo pies. I think I've just come up with my million dollar idea. I shall become Ice Cream Man: After Dark. Details soon.

I went to the grocery store this morning just to buy some milk, bread, pasta, etc. On a whim, I bought two filets of sockeye salmon from the seafood counter. Even though they were on sale, it cost me $17.85. Woops. And I said I would be more frugal. So anyway, does anybody know how to cook sockeye salmon? Help me!

From what I hear, it's delicious. But it also sounds like the duties a multi-tasker would have on a porn shoot. Pity the poor bastards who have that job.

by an earthquake this morning. Just so we're reminded that we live near a huge fault line and we'll all die horribly one day. According to the local ABC newscast, it was about a magnitude 5.6, centered near Anza, about 120 miles away from me. From my end, it felt as if someone was rocking me in my bed for a few seconds. Perhaps that's why I wanted my mommy. Hope everyone is okay. FYI, there's a gay pride parade in West Hollywood today. They just did a short piece on ABC in the middle of the earthquake coverage. Coincidence? Pat Robertson wouldn't think so. But then again, Pat Robertson is completely insane.

About a high school basketball player named Ryan Belflower.

Practically every evening, a woman who lives in the apartment building across from me will sing opera songs (arias?) in a beautiful soprano voice. Though I can't see her, I can hear her quite well from my bedroom window, and I'm always filled with a wistful, homesick feeling whenever I'm audience to her mournful laments. I look forward to hearing her every day when I get home from work, and I'm sort of disappointed when she's not around.

One day I'll muster up the courage to go over there and thank her, tell her how much I appreciate her singing. Some old man will answer the door and I'll ask him if the woman who sings so beautifully is around. At first he'll be confused, but the more I ask about her, the more agitated he'll become. Finally, he'll tell me in a shaky voice, "But it can't be... this woman you speak of was my daughter... and she died 14 years ago! AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!"

So maybe I won't go over there. Perhaps some things are best appreciated from afar.

I like pie.

It's been a slow news day back home.