The car is making me sick. I don’t know if it’s the driving or being in the backseat, but I don’t like being in a car anymore. It could be the routine of driving to one place then coming back and knowing there is nothing significant on route. No changes, no spontaneity—we leave, we get there, we come back. Something about it makes me sick.
Those white slabs of wood I saw by at least seventy seats in the audience turned out to be tables. Yes, I’m doing dinner theatre. This is a first for me and that is not a boast.
This is a message to let you know that I am working at a place called Parkbar. It is located in Union Square, and I will be behind the bar on Saturday’s from 4-9pm, and Monday from 3-9pm. Join me—or just pop your head in and say hello.
I realize Union Square is a major hub, and some of us don’t know each other that well to actually make plans, so I figured letting you know how close I am in relation to where you may be—you’d stop by!
Some of you I know from Improv, from Israel, from Pastis, or Continue reading ParkBar
I just came back from a two-week excursion in Peru, five days of which was left into the hands of United Mice—The Deep Peru Expedition: Salkantay to Machu Picchu.
The reason I’m posting this is simple. When I planned my trip I felt somewhat in the dark and would have truly appreciated someone telling me what the f*ck was going on, so without further adieu.
Some things I want you to know about me:
1. I was just like you—I wanted to go to Machu Picchu but didn’t book five months in advance and was forced to book an alternate route.
2. My only knowledge of tour groups was online research, friends of friends, and Lonely Planet/Fromers/Rough Guide books.
3. I exercise regularly but had very little experience hiking.
4. I didn’t want to die.
5. I didn’t want to get scammed out of money.
6. I am not affiliated with any tour group of any kind; I am a person with a child, and a girlfriend, who hates his job (like most self-respecting Americans). Continue reading Is United Mice a good company?
The thirty dollars each to get to the beach. Plus, five dollar entrance fee. So my girl and I wound up paying a grand total of seventy dollars to get to the f*cking beach. The train was pleasant. Beaches were nice: soft sand, families. Everyone seems big. No? Yeah. Fatter, except, happier. We Continue reading They forgot to mention
1 a threatened penalty for disobeying a law or a rule.
(sanctions) measures taken by a nation to coerce another to conform to an international agreement or norms of conduct…”
Merriam-Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary.11th ed. 2009.
China is buying oil from Iran. Iran is using the money to buy plutonium; which alarms Israel—which alarms the United States. President Obama is planning to send his top aides to China [hopefully] convincing them not only of the dangers of Iran having nuclear capabilities but much worse—preventing an all out war between Israel and Iran—which got me thinking how bad of a turn this could take.
United States: Stop buying oil from Iran.
United States: If you don’t—Israel will go to war with Iran.
China: Then we will go to war with Israel.
United States: Then we will go to war with you.
Iran: Do we have a say in this?
Israel/China/United States: No.
So now a full scale war is imminent, Continue reading We Watch Through Glass
So this photographer living in Tashkent, Uzbekistan was convicted of slandering her country. How? She took pictures of raggedly dressed peasant boys, dreary looking young women, despondent old couples filling up jugs of dirty water, and the governing body of Uzbekistan is under the impression that foreigners viewing this gallery will believe that is how life really is. Genius.
So, photographer was taken to court and if convicted, sentenced to up to three years in prison but in a court exploding climax the judge waived the decision and let her off scot-free saying [paraphrase] ‘Because of the 18th anniversary of Uzbek independence, I will not put you in jail—praise Uzbekistan, and stop taking pictures of gloomy shit.’
And in one of the more phenomenal methods of diverting blame, when the Times reporter called the Uzbek’s general prosecutor’s press office, the man answering the phone said [paraphrasing] ‘I’m sorry, but only the manager is authorized to make comment on these hearings.’ ‘Can I speak to your manager?’ ‘I’m sorry, that position has yet to be filled.’ ‘Well-’ ‘Thank you so much; Enjoy Uzbekistan.’
I went to begin my spanish class at the Queen Sofia Institue and found out my class had been cancelled.
There was a looking for papers, a series of mouth twitches, a scanning of computers all culminating with, “I’m so sorry.”
There, I met a teacher who told me about a book by Jorge Luis Borges. A story in particular called The Circular Ruins.
This morning, I sat in a tiny coffee shop, looked to my left, saw fourteen books for sale, one of them being an Anthology of fiction by Borges.