April 11, 2014


J-Pop America Fun Time Now!

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kawaii pikapika

March 8, 2014


September 2, 2013


There’s a little Kramer in all of us. Coincidentally, there is a lot of Kramer in me.

There’s a little Kramer in all of us. Coincidentally, there is a lot of Kramer in me.

(Source: the-pube)

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July 16, 2013


Escriba Dentata

As it’s getting a little late in the game to refer to my latest downward spiral into existential misery, immediately followed by mind-numbing apathy as a “quarter life crisis”, I’ve realized it is commonly referred to as “depression”. And it can continue to happen well after 25! It’s been a while since I have been capable of functioning on more than a bare bones level, which only required getting to work on time on the days my boss was there, and clandestinely trying to camouflage my wackadoo circadian rhythms. About a month ago, I pulled myself together enough to start making some changes that might help me humpty dumpty my shit back together again. One such permutation is returning to writing, which I will admit, is intimidating because I feel embarrassingly rusty and not without susceptibility to distraction. During the construction of this paragraph, I have had to restrain myself from stopping to do about half a dozen other inane things. Oh, how the muscles of self discipline atrophy, when procrastination takes up residence…

A favorite author of mine, David Rakoff, passed away at 47 last year from complications of the same cancer that we both recovered from at an early age. He once said, “Writing is like pulling teeth. From my dick.”

I guess it’s time to start yanking.

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June 16, 2012


The beer in my boss’s office. How apropos. (Taken with Instagram)

The beer in my boss’s office. How apropos. (Taken with Instagram)

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May 10, 2012


Don’t Quit Your Job Job

It’s Happy Hour at my work right now, which means we’re either completely dead, or slammed by oyster fanatical, cheap idiots who tip like they were raised in a damn barn (see: Europe). Today has been on the slow side, and I intermittently rang up some friends and my mom between confirmation calls to talk about hoodrat stuff. Around 4:30 a guy came in asking for the manager, dressed in pleated khakis with an overly gel-infused hairdo and clutching a manila envelope with a familiar glimmer of hope in his bespectacled blue eyes. An obvious portrait of a job-hunter. I told him the manager wasn’t available (they weren’t, as we don’t have one) and he asked if he could leave his resume with me even though I informed him we were not currently hiring. I said of course and took his resume, filing it away with the brunch menus. A few minutes after he left, I decided to check it out before it made it’s way into the recycling bin, by my hand or the “manager’s”.

The objective section wasn’t much to write home about, but I when I moved on to employments, he listed himself as having worked at Johnny Rocket’s in Irvine, CA from Winter 2005 to Spring of 2006  as a “Server/Singer/Dancer/Ketchup Smiley Face Maker Extraordinaire”. His next employment was for another season in 2006 at the Five and Diner in Pheonix, AZ as a “Serving Buddy Holly Impersonator”. I momentarily wished him back so I could ask if it was anywhere near as cool as it looked in Pulp Fiction.

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April 8, 2012


March 31, 2012


The new Beach House is a spring dreampop gem.

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March 8, 2012


December 21, 2011


This song always gets me in the xmas mood. I love Bing.

bohemea:

Bing Crosby - Mele Kalikimaka

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