Angry Diatribe Ahoy

I don't really understand guys. Now, I know what most of you are thinking: you don't understand guys, because you're a girl. While that may be true, I still don't fucking understand guys.

Here's my problem: guys are fucking retarded. Well, the vast majority are. Maybe it has something to do with sunspots, but lately almost all of my female friends have been complaining about the man in their life. And you know what, most all of the complaints boil down to the same things: said male is fucking retarded.

Example 1: Friend's boyfriends plans a surprise birthday party for friend. Sweet, right? Well, yes, except he somehow forgot to invite ALL of her friends and ONLY invited his friends so it was pretty much a party for him.

Example 2: Friend's boyfriend oversleeps often. Every time he oversleeps he gets upset at girlfriend because she "is in charge of the alarm clock."

Example 3: Friend continually asks boyfriend to make the bed if he gets up after her. Every day she has to remind him because he never does it.

Example 4: For some reason, despite being grown men who live on their own and in some cases even have children, the guys I work with (and they're all guys) can't wash a fucking dish to save their fucking lives.

So, I don't get it. Guys who are totally capable and competent human beings, no matter how old they get, still act like fucking 4 year olds suckling on their mother's teat. (And let me tell you what a huge motherfucking turnoff that is.) So what's up with guys - why don't they get it?

Now, I know that I am unfairly grouping some of the (very, very, very few) good guys in with the huge mass of retarded ones. I have one friend who's boyfriend cooks her dinner every night. I have a guy friend who almost innately knows when I'm upset and does what he can to remedy the situation. I have another guy friend that is the biggest gentleman on the planet. But here's what I secretly suspect: save the boyfriend who cooks his girlfriend dinner every night, I swear to god even the good guys I know probably turn retarded once they get regular pussy.

Is that the problem, Guys? Have you been fucked stupid? Would you get your shit together if the punani was cut off?

So, here's the deal. This is what I propose to the women of the world: stop putting up with this shit. You know your man is capable. You know your man is competent. And you know you shouldn't be putting up with his punk ass. So stop. Now, maybe your man isn't capable or competent. Well, then that one is even easier - dump his ass and don't date till you find somebody worthy, with their shit together. Here's the thing - we're not their mothers. 'Cause momma don't screw like that. And if your man is interested in dating his momma, well it's best to end it now anyway.

And to you guys - and it's mainly guys who are reading this diatribe, because I have almost all male friends - for the love of god, get your shit together. You are capable, you are competent and, in my opinion at least, you're just being lazy, irresponsible and (to call a spade a spade) you are fucking using us ladies. So listen wisely, boys, 'cause you never know when your shit is going to be packed and kicked to the curb.

And, please, don't get me wrong here, yes this is partially about Dan (he's a guy.) But, really, this is a general complaint against men - cause the overwhelmingly huge majority of y'all are fucking retarded and I'm really sick to death of putting up with it.

Never Take A SF Taxicab Co Cab!

Another one of those crazy weekends...

Spent Friday night chopping off my hair. And I do mean chopping, it's now around chin length. This is by far the shortest I've ever gone and I'm still not really used to it. After that I went shopping for my sister's christmas gift and picked her up a little pretty on Haight Street. By the time my hair was cut, the present was bought, the dog was walked and I was fed it was almost 10 - not too mention icy cold. I was supposed to meet up with Dan, but there was no way I was going out to the Mission at that point. I called Dan and we made other plans for the weekend and I crawled into bed and cuddled up for the night.

On Saturday I took Mandy and Chas shopping - the last big shopping weekend is no time to let amateurs lose. I was pretty proud of myself, although we didn't break my record we did manage to get 90% of their gifts within about 3 hours. I know, it's kinda sad - I'm a professional shopper. I raced home after shopping to get ready for Di's surprise bday party.[Sidenote: I was invited to five, count 'em five! parties on Saturday. I felt like the belle of the ball!]

On my way to the party, I saw a cab hit a man. The man managed to walk away with help from a friend and I lost track of the cab. I called the cab company to repot the incident. Here's the convo:

Dispatcher: SF Taxicab Company (I shit you not, I know it sounds generic but that really is the company. Never, ever take a cab from them.) How can we help you.
Me: Uh...cab number #206 (and never take that cab in particular) just hit a man going southbound on Van Ness at McAllister.
D: Does the man need an ambulance? What happened to the cab?
M: The guy was helped off the street by someone. The cab drove off.
D: The cab drove off? Well, I guess the situation resolved itself, now didn't it. *CLICK*

Yeah, that's right, the assholes over at SF Taxicab Co hung up on me when I called to report their driver had hit a man. I'm sorry, but what the fuck?? You know what the worst part is: Dude is still driving a taxi with no consequences and there is nothing I can do about it.

So the bus finally came and I made my way to SoMa for Di's party. Now, don't get me wrong I absolutely, positively love Di to bits and pieces. She is the best fake sister a girl could ever wish for. That being said, I can't fucking stand her Marina-bitch friends. So I get to the fancy pants restaurant and ask for the party. They direct me to the bar where the whores of Union street are standing. Jesus, can you say bleached and bitchy? Not to mention, I swear everyone of those guys was gay. Especially the English guy. But that's just because English guys always sound gay to me. [Sidenote: have I shared with you my theory that England is about as white trash as Europe gets? I swear it's the gulf coast of Europe...]

So I saddle up to the bar and order an Irish coffee to help defrost a little. I'm standing there drinking and they're all standing there drinking and I finally realize I'm going to come across as really rude once they figure out I'm part of the party as well. So I introduce myself and we make awkward small talk as I glare at their tacky ass highlights and they glare at my tacky ass nose ring.

Di finally shows up, so I have someone to talk to. I stay for most of dinner (make that appetizers and a couple of rounds of shots. Even Di was taking them, which was quite the shocker) and then leave to go cross town to my other bday party that night.

I get up to Haight street and make for the Kezar. Naturally, most of my friends are trashed when I get there. Most of all Court. Her party was a lot more fun because it was the usual thing: catching up with my friends while drinking in a comfortable environment. Shove that up your ass, Marina-bitches. Nothing too exciting to report, save a friend who got her clit pierced earlier in the day pulling everyone into the bathroom to show them. Thing was, she was pretty wasted...and wouldn't take "no" for an answer on the viewing...and wasn't really keeping track of who she had shown it to. Me, I saw it three times....

Saturday I woke up surprisingly non-hungover. That was the good part. The bad part? Had to take TJ to the vet in Pacific Heights. I called a couple of friends to see if anyone would give me a ride, no dice. I made my way up there in the thunder storm. Good news! TJ is still certifiably healthy! Anyway, after the appt was over I went back into the storm to catch the bus and the nicest thing happened to me. I was waiting and waiting and waiting for the bus when one of the women who was waiting with me (and had chatted with me about TJ) told me she was taking a cab and would be more than happy to drop me at home "because you need to get the little one inside." See, that's the kinda shit that just makes me love this city.

Anyway, to conclude, here's something that doesn't relate to anything here. Jesse has asked for more Jesse stories because Jesse really likes to read his own name (Jesse.) I suggest Jesse ought to do more interesting things then, cause lately Jesse aint been worth writing home about. Jesse. Jesse. Jesse. There, happy?

Arrrrrrr Matey

If you couldn't tell by the multitude of name drops (oh, you know, and the fact that you know me) I live in San Francisco. Funny thing about San Francisco right now: pirates are HOT. Possibly even HOTT, it's hard to tell.

[Side note: pirates may be big in other places right now too, but I live in SF and rarely even travel to the distant land of Daly City, so I can't really comment on trends in other citites.)

(This used to be a picture of a skull and crossbones, which has apparently been taken down. For originality, I'm choosing to not replace it.)


But they sure are the shit 'round 'bouts these parts - so much so that I've completely OD'd on pirate theme birthday parties after having gone to a bazillion since March. I even have two eyepatches, a hook, a hat, a sword, the requisite striped shirt (but only if you're not already wearing a puffy one) and even a parrot to sit on my shoulder. OK, lying about the parrot, but it turns out people are willing to call a rubber ducky a parrot for costume purposes when at a pirate theme party.

The point being that pirates are really cool right now and everywhere you look is pirate this and pirate that (mainly pirate emblems on hipster t-shirts, but I digress.) But I kinda have to wonder why. Now, I've seen the Urban Outfitters shirt like everyone else and I get that "Pirates Arrrrrrrrrrr Cool," but they kinda aren't. Don't hate me now, just bear with me for a moment.

Along with the surge in hipsters wearing pirate emblems on shirts that are too tight and/or too short, there also seems to be a huge surge in real pirate activity. No folks, I don't mean "real" pirate activity or software pirating or any of that lame ass shit. I mean pirates who are pillaging and plundering off of the Somali cost.

Like this story:
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now click me!

or this one:
click me too!

or this one:
don't forget to click me too!

or this one:
last but not least!

get the point?

It's really interesting to me that, when we have an example of actual pirates actually pirating in our own day and time...why are people still all about them? Pirates don't really seem all that cool to me when you put them in context. Now, I understand that I'm deeply in the minority here (the minority may in fact only consist of me,) but I think the whole pirate thing is alternately totally lame and seriously tragic. Sure, those Urban-Outfitters-shirt-shopping-theme-party -having-hipsters are most likely not connecting (or aware of?) the Somali pirate attacks with the skull and crossbones across their chest, but isn't that the point? That they're not thinking about that? That they're glorifying and mythologizing that?

It just makes me think. What the pirates are doing in Somalia is equal to or less than the havoc that ye olde pirates dealt in. Which means the pirates that people are brazenly wearing are sort of even worse than the ones today. Pirate Blackbeard (no Jesse, not Baldbeard...) was hated and feared for a reason - motherfuckers ripped shit up. Sure, I guess that's part of the allure, but it's really simplifying and denying the majority of the issue at hand.

Yeah, I "get it," but I really don't. What's so cool about pirates anyway?

And, Jesse, before you answer, I already know what you're going to say. Grog. And I just don't really have an answer for that.

A Brave New World

As referenced many a post ago, I am now one of the proud, the bold, the many - the iPod owners.

I still feel fairly new to this whole iPod gig and I have to say, it's a totally different world under those headphones. Now, I know many people who made the transition from CD player to iPod. I figure for them, it was probably a very easy transition because they were used to being buried in their world of music. I, on the other hand, am a hellish curse on portable CD players and have never had one last for more than 3 months. After years of buying them, I said fuck this shit and have been musicless ever since. Point being, I'm used to the noises of the city. I have a very well tuned city ear.

I know which direction the bus is coming, without even looking. I know approximately how far away someone is by the sound of their steps. I know the sound of wind and of traffic and of many things. I am used to these sounds and, call me crazy, but I love them. Ambient noise is awesome, it's the city's own soundtrack.

When I was in video production, this one girl did a trip on MUNI for her final project. She taped the trip on the 33 from the Mission to right when it turns on to Twin Peaks. The first cut she showed in class was awesome. She took the video and sped it up or slowed it down depending on the action. People boarding the bus - super fast. The bus turning on to Twin Peaks when you see the awesome view of downtown - super slow. Anyway, since this was first cut, she hadn't worked on the sound at all. Therefore, when she altered the speed of the video, though she had turned the sound down, you could still hear it a little and it was a great sonic backdrop to the visuals. Honestly, I was fucking amazed when I saw this video. Not just because the girl was an untalented retard who had produced crap thus far, but also because this was first cut and it was astonishingly beautiful. Long story short, Chickeepoo added a soundtrack and tweaked it here and tweaked it there and we didn't see it as a class until it was presented to the whole world at the University showcase. And it sucked. Once she added the music and took away the ambient sounds it was a totally different movie and not any better for it.

Her movie had a simple, serene quality to it which was amplified by the subtle background noise, naturally matching every movement on screen. When she added the music and edited it, the movie took on the quality of a crappy college level amateur attempt at video. What a shame.

So, this is what I'm getting at: my life has really changed since getting the iPod. The world is very different with a musical soundtrack. It's quite odd to me that the bus just shows up, usually I've heard it since it was several blocks away. Also, people don't ever talk to you (THIS is a pro though.) And, I'm finding I read less. It's just so easy to be all, no, I'm sleepy, I'll just space out and listen to music on the way home. I know, I know...no one is *making* me listen to the iPod. I could walk without it, I could choose to read. And I do. I like to mix and match, depending on my mood. It's just really struck me how different things seem when you change the soundtrack to them.

Oh, and if you were curious, I'm actually not listening to my iPod as I write this. But that's only because my coworker is blasting her crappy Coldplayesq music and you just can't win the battle. Not with those tiny little ear buds, anyway...