do you ever feel like you don't belong?

and what I mean by that is do you ever feel like you've missed out on your time? Of course I'm referring to a time period, place or location. (the rules of this game do state that your answer can use a combination of any and all variables present) For example, I was out and about in Lexington this past weekend at a certain downtown restaurant where this young person was struggling with the times. Don't get me wrong this isn't in any means aimed to be hurtful towards this person, it's more of a compliment than insult. We're celebrating individualism here. But she was plucked right out of a Francois Truffaut film from the 50's. I could only see her in black and white. Right on sister! You do your thing. Solid black pants hiked up, waiting for a flood, with a plain white V neck t-shirt tucked in. The ensemble was topped off with a black painter's cap. I know in her mind she thought she was in a Parisian Cafe. At any moment I was waiting for her to start her mime routine. Sometimes the broadness of this country annoys me. I mean, we have everything and anything we want here, which is fine, but wouldn't it be interesting to experience life without cars, interstates, or cell phones (again, rules do stipulate the usage of iPods if applicable). O.K., so you have this community set up quite like a small to medium size European town in the 40's or 50's. Streets lined with cobblestones, cafes, pubs, football pitches, all within walking distance, because well you walk everywhere. You walk to get the paper, a cup of coffee, to the grocers. I suppose it's like living in a Dickens tale, without all the disease and such. You know (most) everyone, and traveling is 10 times more exciting than we know it to be now, because you can't hop on a plane and be 4 states away in 2 1/2 hrs. I've missed my time. Just something to think about, I'm sure everyone reading would love to experience a different time. Big things to come.

jesse

like sand through the hourglass,.....so are the weeks of the months.

in'that how it goes? well that's how it feels sometimes. Ever since I turned 20-something, well maybe 25 or 26, my days, weeks, months and years have had an uncontrollably excrescent feeling to them. I'm not complaining, earlier today I was telling my flatmate that, "it's always the weekend".

(reading is fundamental) Scientists across the world have noticed a dire situation upon beaches where there is a lack of snail shells for hermit crabs to move into. Often times crabs will involve themselves in what's known as "Shellfighting", where one crab in a fit of rage, violence and necessity will twist another crab out of his home, while the evicted one scrambles for cover. Scientists have noticed however that there is some hope in civility in this world, even amongst the smallest creatures. When a shiny new shell is placed on the beach, crabs will converge upon it arranging themselves in order from largest to smallest. The largest crab will remove itself from his shell and enter into the new one. The next crab down in size will enter into the recently vacant shell and this act is repeated down the line until every crab has a cozy new home. It seems clear to all parties involved that the smallest crab is happy with his acquisition, and in turn would not be happy with the largest shell. Possibly not even being able to carry it. I don't know how, but one part of me wishes humans could somehow behave equally as civil sometimes.

listening to right now: The Wait by Built to
Spill

cold hands

work.,!* (a visual journey)

believe it or not, I actually do my fair share of very hard work whilst presiding over the hordes of small-medium business owners in this great commonwealth and surrounding provinces, aditionally. (DSR's, VSR's, Division Meetings, IYPBP, Ad-type codes, fax, scan, SpecArt, LIYP, PI, NI, revenue,...oohhhh go away!) That aside, there are also a few hours of my daily grind where there is a bit of downtime. Fred Stout with Mountain Farm International Tractor and Farm Supplies in Cookeville, TN did not, I repeat did not enjoy discussing his advertising program early in the morning. With a name like Fred Stout though I imagine him cutting down trees for firewood at 4 am, then hunting his breakfast down and killing it with his bare hands. Anyways. With the internet at our finger tips and a few hours to kill the possibilities are endless as to what we can come up. Most of the time it's the same old websites to check, friends to email, and of course I can get my blog on quite like I'm doing now. Sometimes however we try to get creative. Technology allows us to snap pictures with camera phones and quickly email them to ourselves to upload and post. As you've seen before (on this here blog) a quick 5 minute doodle can soon become published internet art with the use of a scanner. Without further ado, here is a heavy hearted work of not-so-staggering genious called, work,.!* (a visual journey)

we start out our journey with a nice delicate piece by myself. I was going to use this as a logo/pic for this site, but couldn't figure out the who, what, when, where, or why of it,..

not sure how well this one is going to show up, but a buddy drew me getting,..well,..done!,...by some crazy aliens. wanted to use it for a short story, but couldn't think of anything creative. is my butt that smooth?


The mentally challenged,....

Michael Jackson & Co. backstage.

What happens when 2 wankers wear similar sweaters? They take a picture of themselves and post it on the internet!

as you can see, we like our fruit! (see what boredom does to the mind?)

This is probably what you're doing right now. Every once in a while i'll try to catch a nap after lunch.

Well I hope you've enjoyed my very first art exhibit. Art of course being a figure of speech. cheers

listening to right now: Mouthwash by Kate Nash

jess

Inspired! Ardent!

i usually don't post twice in one day, but when I become inspired by some form of art, i feel compelled to climb to the wal-mart roof tops and scream. Angela and I were flipping around and we stumbled upon this channel called CMT, it's brilliant! When you guys get a chance, (i've already emailed a few of you) check out or go download this amazing new song by this great human being. It's called "how do you like me now" by Tony Keith, or maybe it's Toby, not sure. Simply amazing. How have I been missing this person? This channel? This culture? All the male presenters on this channel seem to have really low voices, the same facial hair and a similar disposition (individualism). and the women,..WOW! They are all so perky and happy. Prodigious! Marvelous! Come down now. holy sheezy! some program called Trick My Truck is getting ready to commence. Later bronco-busters

george wilkinson

for those of you interested,......

My original posting for today somehow appears below yesterday's. I think it's because I originally started working on it a few days ago. Enjoy. (it's called "don't walk away from the glass!")
Jesse

what would happen if you put a banana in the microwave?

would it melt? would it explode? would I have stumbled across a new ingenious invention, A tasty nutritious treat? We (or I, it was my idea, don't steal it) could call it nana-ness. The world may never know.

The other day my buddy called me a few minutes after the time that it was a few minutes ago, and said he had this hilarious story to tell me. Proceed, I thought as my mind was already planning on writing about it, if it was funny or weird enough for my valued readers to experience also. Well, it was both. He explained to me that he was leaving his place of employment just as he does everyday but decided to stop off for a quick tinkle on the first floor (he was coming from the 3rd). Upon arrival into the Men's room he quickly fell into a state of semi-shock as he noticed a man of similar age standing at a urinal with his trousers all the way down to his ankles. Bare bottom exposed quite like the day he was born. I myself would have been tempted to give him a right spank on the bottom, but luckily for him, I wasn't present. I suppose that's all there is to tell. Naked man finished off his business while my buddy calmly and coyly slid into a stall and waited for him to depart. I started to think about it, and seemed to remember experiencing something very similar when I was younger. What have we learned here,...? I guess some little boys are taught to pee with their pants all the way down thus exposing their naked buttocks. That's plain and simple, init'?

listening to right now:It Isn't Easy To Live That Well by Headlights

chula

don't walk away from the glass!

a couple of weeks ago an old friend (lets call him Mr. Sea) I had in high school contacted me totally out of the blue. He somehow found me on myspace, or maybe he emailed me, I don't remember. I'm guessing he ran into my Uncle who still lives in the area, and got to me that way. It looks as if we're slowly going to try to "re-kindle" (that's in quotes because for some reason it sounds a little too romantic) the friendship we had 9 years ago. HHmmm, "friendship we had 9 years ago", yep, tumultuous is a good word to start off with. Vociferous, maybe. Destructive? I don't know. Those were the old days when I was younger, fatter, and had more pizza toppings on my face but had a loyal buddy to cope with the day to day grind that is public high school, as I'm sure we're all aware of.

After high school, Mr. Sea and I (sort of) went our separate ways. We were the same age, but things like that just seem to happen. No bad blood, nothing substantial to report, just grew apart a little. Of course we still talked every once in a while, I would often run into him at this little coffee shop that was beach side. When I did see him, I noticed minor changes in his behavior. It's kind of hard to explain actually. Everytime I saw him, he was a little less than who he was the previous time. Imagine a massive snowball actually rolling back up a mountain and getting smaller and smaller. Wouldn't this look odd to you? It stuck out to me in that way. That's how I would explain each encounter with Mr. Sea. It's like I could tell something was wrong but felt that I couldn't help him if he didn't help himself. With his behavior the way it was, the isolation and treatment of his friends and family, there was only (in my mind) one explanation. He was depressed. I finally planned my big "intervention" with Mr. Sea. I had to at least try to push him to help himself. I'd seen too many other relationships around him crumble because of his mental illness. All I could do is let him know that I cared for him. Some of the questions I asked him: Wouldn't you go to the Doctor if you had a stomach virus or sore throat? How is depression different? Do you actually think that your friends and family will think any different of you for seeking help for something that is out of your control? Shame on you if you do. I hate to say it but at the present moment, I'm not sure this story has, or will have a happy ending. As most of you know, I moved away shortly after my first year of college in Florida. We all but cut ties with each other as we saw how hard living 3 states away can effect a friendship. I've still yet to really hear how he faired in the end with his problems. Time will tell.

Think of it like this. Let's say that you accidentally break a glass while cleaning around your kitchen. It was an accident mind you, but really in the grand scheme of things, you had no control over it. What are you going to do? Leave the broken glass lying there to cut you again in the future. Maybe your wife, son, or friend steps on it and hurts themselves. No!, you clean up the glass. You recognize the problem and address it before it can hurt you again,.....you clean it up.

jesse

cup'a tea, raw fish, theatre. (2 things)

i knew i was going to love it. i knew it! Jeff Tweedy once spouted the importance of being a part of something,......(new sentence)While trying to calm down various (talkative) participants at a solo concert he expelled his frustrations, aiming them at a minority of chatty hipsters. It was the stuff dreams are made of. That said, I went to my first play/theatre performance as an adult this past weekend. We decided to check out the Actors Guild of Lexington's version of (Tom Stoppards') Arcadia. (thoughts on that in a second). But seriously, have you ever really been a part of something? Movies where people talk and cell phones chime in as much as the protagonist need not apply. Close your eyes and visualize a room the size of your favorite restaurant, but totally open. Insert seating for 100 people, maybe 150 (soaking wet) hovering over a small adorned stage. Whether or not the presentation was going to be good or not, I did not know. What I did soon realize was the fact that it was going to be a unique, amazing experience. 10 or so human beings putting every fiber of their schooling, training, practice, rehearsal, and emotion into enhancing some perfect strangers' quality of life for 3 hours was their mission. It was accomplished. The acting was brilliant, the crowd was attentive and involved, my bum hurt from sitting, I didn't care. I was a part of something. The experience shared in that room for that short time, will never again be replicated. Sure the play runs for a few more weeks, sure they'll probably sell it out again, but those exact participants won't be there, that guy who wanted to step out early who fell down the stairs won't be there.(I mean he ate it!) I like to think I added to the equation. I was a part of something bigger.


Arcadia is a play written by Tom Stoppard in 1993. The setting is Derbyshire, England in 1809, and present day. The play juxtaposes the activities of two modern scholars and the house's current residents with the lives of those who lived there 180 years earlier. Arcadia explores the nature of evidence and truth in the context of modern ideas about history, mathematics and physics. The acting was top notch and the production, art direction and direction were all brilliant, but also had a sort of grass-roots feel to it. No pretension was present.

listening to right now: Guns are Drawn by The Roots

jesse

are you a poet, and don't know it?

I recently finished reading a short piece of creative nonfiction called Miles to Go Before We Sleep by Jeff Gordiner. This entry in The Best Creative Nonfiction Vol. 1 is about a group of Poets who (rock star-style) set out on a tour of America with a bus, some cigs, some liquid alcohol and of course their $40 poems hanging out of their back pockets. What's the point of this endeavor(?) you're asking. Well, the point of combining a rock star-lifestyle with the blissful art of poetry to reach people,.......well that pretty much was the point. The idea was for this abstruse art form to not-so-solemnly get reacquainted with the absoluteness of the real world. The problem with this dusty art form is the reason for this journey: it's cut off from American life, and wishes to reconnect. (the following quote was the sole reason I decided to write this) "I can't think of a better remedy than to ride out on a 40-foot bus and take poetry straight into a teeming pandemonium of Wal-Mart and crystal meth and American Idol and obesity and video games and Rush Limbaugh and killer gas prices". So ya, the point of the bus was to promote poetry, but wasn't it also something else? Yep, right again- a mind-set! If you don't believe me then,......

and I saw the best minds of my generation

living in lofts

thinking they were the best minds of their generation

while the world hacked up tax breaks and jet fighters

listening to right now: The Sun's Gone Dim and the Sky's Turned Black by Johann Johannson

tired jesse

Ichi, Ni, San, Chi, Go, Rocku, Sichi, Hachi, Ku, Ju

word of the day: acerbic \uh-SUR-bik\, adjective: Sharp, biting, or acid in temper, expression, or tone. "Mr. Chula, can you use that in a sentence please"(?) "People with red hair (sometimes) have very acerbic attitudes".

phrase of the week/month: Having a meltdown \go-ING-aipe-shite\, verb: feeling like your whole world has come crashing down:turned upside down. This feeling is often in conjunction, affiliation (cahoots) with throwing your hands in the air (once again, if you's a tru playa) and literally melting down into a pile of beige sticky goo. Used in a sentence: I've not had any meltdowns this week, just like to say that word.

"He's often akin or disposed to certain erratic behavior when it comes to the simple usage of punctuation. He daftly thinks that it very well may add some sort of artistic credibility to his drivel. I once read a sentence of his that literally looked something very analogous to this: "Manchester United,....Rules man!?{(he, he)}/i'm a wanker/everybody should,....well at least a % of you should- listen to me ramble".! That about sums up his ideas".
-That was a quote someone posted about me recently concerning this here blog.

There is this billboard that looms over New Circle Rd. that we can see out of our office building that says, "Green Fees $7.00 plus tax". And that my friends is it. No business name, number or anything else. I've conducted multiple Google searches in attempts to get some more info, to no avail. Just an FYI.

Earlier this morning I tried explaining the concept of "peanut butter fingers" to a buddy and he wasn't having it. For those of you who don't know, I believe the concept started from an episode of Friends, where someone sticks his fingers into a peanut butter jar, then simply inserts said fingers into mouth. If you're still a little slow, I guess the joke is sort of a play on words, assuming that the "fingers" part of it implies some sort of delicate, rich desert. Are we all on the same page now? Of course this long-winded lad couldn't say that. I told him that peanut butter fingers were originally created by Arthur C. Fingers in 1933, in Pennsylvania, Mass. And that Mr. Fingers was a famous inventor of desert all across Europe and the Eastern U.S. Here's the funny part: he turned his back and walked away from me, mid-sentence. He wouldn't even let me get close to finishing. This guy's my hero.

I'm buying a car today.

Taxes. Wow!

listening to right now: Something Burning by The Stone Roses

cheers

who are ya?....who are ya?....who are ya?

what's the first thing us Americans do when confronted with a rival sports team, or hostile sports environment? I'm guessing some of you are thinking, well I would "Boooo" them, or maybe even launch the finger, maybe an "S" bomb, or "F" bomb. I'm also guessing that no one would say, "I'd get all my mates together and sing a song about them". Well if the idea of that sounds shocking, then you may get a culture lesson today. My obsession with English and European football is what it is, I'm up to about 20 hours a week. My podcasting is close behind at about 11 or so hours a week. So it's safe to say that this exposure has allowed me to experience the game and the culture surrounding it from a distance. There's no doubt that the atmosphere in England contributes a great deal to the appeal of the game. Hearing anywhere from 20,000 to 60,000+ people sing in unison can give you quite the goose bumps. These songs are of course used to encourage the home team, or slight the opposition. Often times the songs are based on current Pop songs, or even old hymns, with the lyrics changed to fit the team the song is directed to. A good example is the world famous, Glory, Glory Man United which is of course based off the classic hymn, Glory, Glory, Hallelujah. A common chant in Italy that is often used would be the hymn to Seven Nation Army by The White Stripes. Manchester United fans came up with this little gem set to the tune of Winter Wonder Land about their much loved manager, Sir Alex Ferguson.

Mourinho are you listening,You'd better keep our trophy glistening;'
Coz we'll be back in May, to take it away,
walking in a Fergie Wonderland!

Of course all of the songs aren't as nice and clever as that one, some of them are a little more straight forward.

Drink, drink, wherever you may be,We are the drunk and disorderly,
And we don't give a f*ck, and we don't give a sh*t,
We're going home with the championship.

United fans again ripped off an old hymn called Swing Low, Sweet Chariot to praise former United player Andy Cole.

Swing low, sweet Andy Cole, Coming for to score us a goal,
Swing low, sweet Andy Cole,Coming for to score us a goal.

There's loads more that you can find online if you're interested, but know that it's catching on here in the states as well, I'm just warning you. An American couple somewhere out in the Mid-west has started their own business located at http://www.whoareyadesigns.com/ that sells shirts based on these songs, sayings, and other quips involved with football. You'll soon see this lad sporting a few of 'em this spring. Enjoy!

So, what have we learned here today? I expect all of you to sing your way out of trouble this weekend. Come up with something clever, put the finger down.

listening to right now: Fugitive Motel by Elbow

jchu

"how i wish you could see the potential,...."

death cab for cutie (a band name that preclude's them from reaching a certain fanbase) has a new album arriving soon (Narrow Stairs, 5/13/08). The good folks over at Pitchfork Media have kindly posted all 8 minutes of their first single, I Will Possess Your Heart to hold us cabbies over for another month or so. It's worth checking out, (as the length suggests) you'll see it's not the typical DCFC song that some of us have become accustomed to. I will say it's equal parts beautiful, mellow, grooving, and intelligent. The opening 5 or so minutes of pure instrumental glory build and create and sense of urgency that keeps the listener waiting for something else equally as beautiful. Ben Gibbard's first line is so fitting after these moments, "how I wish you could see the potential, the potential of you and me", well thank you very much Mr. Gibbard if this first single is any inclination of the album, Yes! we have seen the potential. Well done, good show! (as the brits would say). Check it out if you want to, if not, then you're a square.
http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/page/forkcast/49356-death-cab-for-cutie-i-will-possess-your-heart-stream

listening to right now: I Will Possess Your Heart by Death Cab For Cutie (go figure)

chula-mang.

what's in a name?

chula. chula monster. chula#2. chalupa. chubacca. chula monkee. chulski (that's my Russian name). ch-ch-chula. Those are just a small percentage of the names I've been called in my life. Here is my question though,....why? Don't get me wrong, (I ain't mad) I actually prefer my last name to my first, probably for the same reason everyone else does. It just sounds better. Psychology 101 tells me that when someone gives me a nickname, abbreviates or changes my name, it's a sign of affection. They feel comfortable enough around me to give me a more personal name. But is that why for the majority of my public school life, and young adult life other people have also chose to call me by my last name, or some form of it? I demand an answer. Everywhere I go, I'm followed by some revision of how people address me. You'd really be surprised about where people think the name Chula originates from. It's not Italian, German, Bulgarian, or even Chinese (joking). Us proud Chulas hail from the Eastern European giant that is known as Romania (watch out U.S., our gymnasts are coming for you). The other day some guy thought I was an actual European who I guess was just stateside working. He said the soccer jersey tipped him off. Before I go, the next time you give someone a "nick-name", ask yourself why you are doing so. You'll probably find that you feel comfortable around that person. Or, maybe you can't resist his rugged good looks, beautiful flowing brown curly hair, tall slender frame, or maybe it's the over-sized nose. Someone should think of a name that combines gonzo and chula.

listening to right now: You Don't Send Me by Belle and Sebastian

jesse

phase 1 initiation is now complete.

you guys are in for a treat. Buying a new car is so much fun. The good thing about it is that it is totally stress free. Know what I mean? Think about it,.....when your old car gets in a fender bender your insurance company will want to just total it. They'll say something like, "it would cost more to fix it than to pay you for the value of it". Well O.K., no problem they'll assign a totally professional and credible claims representative to handle it for you. It should only take a week or so, and no where near 3 full months. Surely aforementioned rep won't fail at every possible chance to help you. But if he does you'll contact his boss in a last ditch effort to salvage not only pride, but the inevitable fact that you'll soon be using public transportation for not only your daily work commute, but all your personal needs as well. No chance that big boss man will then pawn off his duties to yet another credible claims rep, but if he does, she'll be nice and friendly. She'll set up a time for your "totaled" car to be picked up and assure you of a reservation for a rental at possibly, Enterprise or somewhere well known for the second they open at 7:30 am Monday morning. You'll show up ready to tackle another week of work with your half asleep wife with you at approximately 7:25 am to pick up the rental. You're never late. You'll be the first one in and soon find out that there is no record of you even having a reservation. You'll be asked to call your insurance company yourself to sort it out, all while those precious seconds tick away. Of course you do realize that after all this planning, you are now going to be late for work. The settlement will be decent from your insurance provider, then you'll have to decide to borrow the rest of the would be cost for a new car, or put your own dough in. Interest rates, financing charges, warranties, deductibles, coverage on new vehicle,...uuhh my head is spinning. Just remember one thing when you're out there in the world gang,.....everybody, I mean everybody wants your money. Don't forget that!

listening to right now:the title is way too long, just some classical nice-ness.

Chula #2.

Overrated/Underrated Pt.2 (hey b,...the internet is down again)

just felt the need to say hello, on a Sunday morning. Hopefully we'll be able to find Super Smash Bros. to rent today on wii. (benton, you back in town yet man?) Well, Angela was watching a movie on T.V. last night and it sparked me to try to start another overrated/underrated list. They are quite difficult to think of. I'm trying to avoid just listing the things that I like/dislike, but instead thinking of things that everyone can relate to. Maybe spark some kind of thought in your minds. But again, easier said than done. Anyway, here is another short one while you eat your morning cereal with a chopped up banana.

OR:
Vince Vaughn
Sitcoms
Doughnuts
Free Consultations
David Beckham (has he done anything since coming?)
Lost (I'll still watch it every week)
Jay Leno


UR:
The Mellow Mushroom
BBC Office (no, really)
English Muffins (get no love)
Running shoes that fit
Stew's (as in throwing a bunch of stuff in a pot, and cooking it. No one does this anymore)
Internet Radio (literally thousands of songs at your free fingertips)
Indian dudes (who stay on the phone with you for 45 minutes helping you totally re-vamp
your wireless router, they know their stuff)


listening to right now: Before We're Dead by Ferraby Lionheart (no idea who this is, but interesting)

cheers.

mixing $$ + religion= bad vibes.

so I promised myself when I started this little project (that is now global, readership has breached 2.7 million hits per day) that I would try to avoid, how do I say this, certain "controversial" topics (i.e., religion, politics, sex, things of that nature). But since I have become addicted to writing something everyday I couldn't help myself. There's a lady in our office, let's just call her J.R., that more than wears her beliefs on her sleeve. For the most part, I'm O.K. with that. I have no problem with someone elses choice of religion. I do believe that your choices on who to follow, believe in, worship should be between you and that being, and not necessarily shared with everyone around you all day long. For those of you who don't know, I sell & help develop advertising programs to businesses locally, and in other states near by to print in the local telephone directory. That said, J.R. feels the need to say (out loud), to God, or whomever to "please bless me with a lot of money today". Her speaking out loud is more of a suggestion to whomever wants to listen, than a fervent prayer. I think a recent direct quote went something like this, "help me Jesus, the Devil wants me poor”. Now, you're starting to see that the tone of this is a little more humorous than me just being mean old Jesse. I guess the real inspiration for this, the moment that put me over the edge, was the conversation that she had with a potential customer about speaking in tongues. After that, I threw in the towel. All I'm saying here is that it gives me seriously bad vibes when people mix $$ with their religion. Let's all give thanks back to God for our blessings, we do have a lot to be thankful for, but can we keep the greediness to a minimum? Esepically when I'm in ear-shot. Have fun mates.

listening to right now: Kick, Push by Lupe Fiasco

jchu

the end of an era,...(well, maybe)

Most people our age (21-35, whatever?) have a spot (or at least they should). No, not a cute little dogie named spot, but a place where they can go to have a beer, eat some tasty food, fellowship a little, be loud, blow off some steam, almost get in street fights with the kitchen crew, watch a game, or even meet new people. Well, my group of friends and some family members have frequented an establishment for the past few years near UK's campus called Pazzos. Pazzos has it all, a really cool college-type atmosphere, good food and quite a few imported beers on draft to choose from. I know what you're asking, what seems to be the problem? This sounds like the perfect place. Well it was, but it is no longer. Things change. About 6 months ago some dude in a car shows up in the parking lot behind the actual restaurant, let's call him the "parking Nazi". Parking Nazi has no power what-so-ever, besides a cell phone and a gruff demeanor. His methods of intimidation include, but are not limited to, "all bark and no bite", and the 2nd grade tattle tell that we all knew so many years ago. Let's just say that he makes parking way more hassle than it needs to be. Another recent downfall to our haven is the handing over of a state issued driver's license just to get a buzzer to wait for 2 hours. Yep, believe it. "Why do I need to show you my DL to get a buzzer,? I politely asked. "Well people are stealing them, so, uuhh, well we just, like, need to write down your license number so you don't steal it". Right, I whispered to myself. This is easily comparable to your favourite band selling out (something that's been on my mind recently). They can't help it if they get more popular. Other people are drawn to them for the same reasons you are. Only, you found them first, you have more invested in them. You take more ownership in them. And now look, all these people have come in and ruined what you hold so dear. I don't know, maybe I'm off this time, but things change. Time moves on. Have we lost our favourite local hang out? Probably not, but in the end a 2 hour wait time seems to be totally ridiculous. I'm just not going to put up with it. The point to all this isn't that we aren't ever going to go back, but when we do go back, it seems like it will never quite be the same. Talk amongst yourselves.

listening to right now: The Magnificent Dance by The Clash

Jesse David Chula the III, Esquire

the curious tale of the penguin from southampton.

I just finished reading The Book of Other People edited by Zadie Smith. The book is a collection of short stories where the assignment to the authors was to create a living being ( i.e., fictional person, animal, I think someone even created a monster). The focus of the creation was to explore character. In the end the collection was like most others; part brilliant, part sleepy, maybe a little muddled somewhere in between, but overall pretty enjoyable. Sales from the book benefit author Dave Eggers's nonprofit literary organization "826 NYC" which helps students from age 6 to 18 develop their creative writing skills. I myself was going to try this little exercise for all you ardent readers, but I really couldn't come up with anything. However, you all are in luck! The craziest thing happened to me this morning on the way to work. I was driving in the ice box [for those of you who don't know, the ice box is my 1996 Chevy Blazer (paid off) that has absolutely no heat what-so-ever] and I saw this Penguin on the side of the road. I swear this is true. The funny thing about it is he was holding up a sign trying to get a ride somewhere. I thought to myself, "how can this be happening"? There is no way I could pass up this opportunity, I mean this was going to make for a fantastic story. Well, I was a few minutes early to work so I thought what the heck, little fellow looks to be harmless. So I pulled off to the side of the road and sure enough he waddled over. The closer he got, I found that I could read what the sign said. It said "Oi". I immediately recognized what it meant. Across the pond in Britain they say Oi to get someones' attention. It's used as an interjection, kind of like "hey". My theories were correct, when he climbed in, he had a British accent. He said, "Alright mate! Blimey, it's potatoes in the mould out there init? A little mork and mindy. Cheers for the ride, I'm working off a Leo Sayer, had a few too many Nelson Mandela's last night". At first I said, uuhh, excuse me? What was that? Then it dawned on me what he was saying. I've read about this before, I thought to myself. He's using Cockney rhyming slang. Cockney rhyming slang is a form of speech that originated in areas of Central London where people would take an expression which rhymes with a word and then use that expression instead of the word. That's just the way some of these brits talk, I thought. Well I did a little translating so we could all know what he said. For the most part he was saying thanks for the ride, and that he thought it was freezing outside, and very windy. Then he said that he was recovering from an all day drinking session the previous day where he consumed a few too many Stella Artois (a popular European Lager). During our 5 to 10 minute drive we had a pretty normal conversation. He told me where he was from, his hobbies, interests and even his favourite foods. He loves Sushi. In the end, I dropped him off at a Starbucks close to where I work. The little bloke just wanted a coffee to start his day off. Who am I to blame him? The funniest thing about this encounter I had with a talking penguin was when he got out of my car, he said it felt a little warmer outside than it did when he was in the car. They don't call it the ice box for nothing.

listening to right now:Punk Rock by Mogwai

jess

why are you the way you are?

*note to readers; the(@) symbol will be used multiple times through this message to indicate the use of a dramatic (frustrated) sigh. Please understand that my frustrations do not indicate any ill feelings toward anyone I know personally, i.e, friends or family. Reader discretion is advised and the following ramble is rated "T" for I don't have "T"ime for stupid people.

(@)It seems like once a week I get mad at some other human being who I feel has wronged me. Am I too high-strung? Well until my next appointment with my therapist, you'll have to do. (@) A few months ago I started noticing this ticking noise coming out of the wall, a mere few feet from where I lay my head each and every night. ("where my children come to play with their toys", that was for all you Godfather 2 fans out there). Anyways, take a pen and tap it 15 times in a row on a desk, and you'll start to get a vague realization of the experience. Well I consider myself pro-active so yesterday I decided to contact the front office of The Summit. Upon arriving home from work I found a nice little hand written note from a bloke, let's just call him "Bob" (actually that was his name) that said and I quote, "The ticking noise you hear may be ice melting on the exterior wall. There should be nothing in the HVAC system causing this noise". (@) Are you kidding me? You can't be serious. Let's just say I felt that my intelligence was insulted. There is no way on the face of this green planet that it is ice melting on the outside. I suppose that's the end of part one. I called them back this morning and said as politely as I could that I didn't think it was ice melting. (@). We'll see what happens,....maybe free rent for a month or so. Laters

listening to right now: One Man Brawl by I Am Kloot

jesse

get your garlic out.

This past Saturday night on (appropriately titled) Saturday Night Live, the stage was graced with the presence of 4 young Ivy Leaguers (by way of NYC) who make up the indie band Vampire Weekend (in Spin's opinion, the best new band of '08). As I conversed this morning with a fellow "artist", we both shared our observations of the performance. My acquaintance stated, and may I quote, "I do have to admit though, that while I love their music, I was actually getting tired of hearing about them (and we were late on the subject)…but then I saw how much fun they have performing and they won my heart again". Well said, I thought. I myself had a smile on my face during the entire song. But, did the winning of hearts and minds the nation over come with a price? I think it may have. Vampire Weekend, and Wilco (the previous week) both canceled tour dates to appear on SNL at the next to last minute. Surely these bands didn't "sell out" at the last second, did they? Well, I myself don't necessarily think so, but try telling that to the couple of thousand that dropped their hard earned (and I'm sure a ticketmaster fee of a million bucks) a few months ago awaiting their heroes to come to their hometown. I don't know, I guess it's just something to think about.

listening to right now: Culling Of The Fold by Colin Meloy (no, not The Decemberists Version)

jesse

word of the day: parity

par·i·ty-n. equality; equality with or equivalence to a fixed value or standard. (Told ya I wasn't going to get bored today). 2 examples of parity: Today in England's FA Cup, 2 perennial powerhouses were knocked out by lesser teams. Manchester United lost at home to Portsmouth 1-0, and Chelsea were also defeated by the same score to lower league Barnsley. Now here is where the equality comes in. Chelsea currently stand 3rd in the top flight of English football: The Barclays Premier League. Barnsley currently stand 19th in the Coca-Cola Championship (the league directly below the Premier League)(that's a difference of 36 places for all you math majors out there) This was the classic case of a giant killing. There is a reason why the game is still played. On paper, Chelsea have some of the most talented players in Europe. (they spend per year about what the New York Yankees spend) Barnsley are struggling to stay in the division they are currently in, and not get relegated to League 1, the division below them. For American sports fans who aren't familiar with some of these names, think about a 16 seed beating a 1 seed in the first round of the NCAA tourney. Now I know that has never happened, but you start to get an idea about how amazing this run for Barnsley has been.

Paul Thomas Anderson is brilliant. (and he's young:38) I watched Magnolia today, a film he wrote and directed in 1999. The direction of this film was superb. The film takes place during one day in LA with a series of interlocking vignettes about death, love, crime, drugs, depression and redemption. Much disliked (in my book) Tom Cruise was brilliant in a supporting role. Philip Seymour Hoffman and John C. Reilly really are in every movie ever made and are equally brilliant as said director. I read somewhere that the film was said to be a "new example of realistic cinema depicting real human loss and tragedy". ( I wish those were my words) Of course everyone already knows how I feel about There Will Be Blood. I hope we've all learned something today.

listening to right now: Paranoia In B Major by Avett Brothers

jess

geezers need excitment,.......

.......if their lives don't provide them this, they incite violence". (Mike Skinner, the Streets) With the impending snow storm of the apocalypse a mere hours away, I sit here pondering what the next few days are going to bring into my life. Don't get me wrong, I assume nothing substantial is going to happen. But for the first time in quite a while I have absolutely nothing planned. No films to see this weekend, no footie to watch, ate out at every restaurant known to man this past week, guitar hero'd out, house to myself pretty much all weekend. HHHmmm. The possibilities are seemingly endless. Maybe I can finish my book, work on my writing skills, go to the gym, watch a DVD. My point to this little rant is that oftentimes we, or should I say "I", complain pretty much first thing Monday morning straight on through til Friday at 4:30 about wanting to be off, then when I am off, I complain about being bored. So my pledge to you my ardent readers, is that I'm not going to complain once this weekend about not having anything to do. I will keep myself occupied. Other than that I wanted to get a tad bit sappy this morning and share a wonderful piece of writing that I came across recently, a poem if you will. Not sure who penned it, so credit will be given to the power of love. I only caught a line or two of it, so without further ado. (This one's for you Angela) "If you wanna be my lover, you gotta get with my friends, Make it last forever friendship never ends, If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give, Taking is too easy, but that's the way it is". Enjoy the snow lads!

listening to right now: Doot Doot Plot by The Hidden Cameras

b-dog.

??????????!

for a day at least, I'm going to forgo all of my artistic aspirations, throw my hands in the air (if yous' a tru playa!) and simply admit defeat. How can I continue through my normal day to day activities when something, or should I say some form of people have recently been introduced into my life? We get our fair share of emails being passed around here in the office, and 9 times out of 10 I delete them without even looking. For some reason this time I decided to give it a look and soon after my jaw dropped to the floor. (I don't even know how to talk about what you are about to see). Now, I must first say that I'm not "trying" to be judgemental. I don't know any of these people but I just can't get over the way they look. The difference here is that these people (I believe) go to a lot of trouble to look a certain way, this is a choice, they have total control over their appearance. I'm not saying that people shouldn't go out and have a good time, get dressed up, have fun, be young. But listen to me Sons and Daughters of this great nation,....maybe just maybe tone it down a little, be yourself a tad bit more, stay in one night, read a book. Without further ado, a few of these pics were in an email titled: "I'm glad I'm not from Jersey". Tony Soprano these guys are not! (Even if they think they are. ) Also, Derek Zoolander,....beware!


Should I fear for my life? These budding younsters probably have organized crime ties.

listening to right now:Silver Stallion by Cat Power

Mr. Lad

(very) short story part 1. (easy now.)

A Chance Encounter,........As we converse, the next brilliant director of our generation brushes by a young lad of 13 on an icy street corner. The lad slips on a "dream" and said director instinctively reaches out not just a helping hand, but also a realizing glance of the profound impact this young lad has made on him. You see, this budding youngster has ambitiously combined his fashion sense with a cunning street wise that will undoubtedly (and in some ways, subconsciously) influence the director in his next project. (in years to come, there will be no explanation for this influence) The director is currently on location for his second film, a follow up to his insipid debut, A Lesson In Crime.
Film critic Josiah Pemberton recently quipped, "A Lesson In Crime, was an uninspired, 2nd-rate attempt to influence a decade of actors, directors and writers". Pemberton also noted that, "it (the film) was supposed to be it's very own, On The Waterfront or Mean Streets of its generation. Where it failed, and most will agree was that it lacked a sense of passion in the direction. Crime seemed to lack any real inspiration that it's predecessors so commonly displayed".
You understand now that this chance encounter evoked an emotion, a feeling. What the director experienced that day sparked something. As noted earlier, the director went on to do great things in film. I suppose in the end, this chance encounter wasn't anything substantial. I myself never got to see this kid. I'm pretty sure that at the end of the day he wasn't anything special, but something happened that day that led to something else. I guess that's the beautiful thing about art and expression: it does something to us. It gives us feeling, it doesn't evoke a reaction, it requires one.

I'm so angry right now,......(wanker of the week)

I don't even know where to begin. Doesn't work, and life and other people suck? O.K., no I won't be that dark, but I just received some terrible news at work. So I'm rightfully going to take out my frustrations on someone who probably has never said more than 3 words to me. Why do you ask? Because I'm mad, (I have the ever-powerful Internet at my fingertips, I am blogger-man, hear me roar!) and this person embodies a sense of corporate America that I do not like. Without further ado,...there is this wanker in our office, (everyone of you have met this guy before, albeit at work, college, church or wherever else your journeys take you) who may just be the single most annoying person ever. Late 40's, bad moustache, suspenders, eats regular M&M's at 9:15 in the morning (not even the peanut ones), and of course when asked how he is at 7:45 in the morning, replies boisterously with, "peachy keen". I haven't even gotten to the morning singing yet. He does this weird, operatic thing whilst walking back and fourth to the break room, kind of a, "la, deee, de, da". Not to be confused with the charm of Annie Hall (la de da). The other day when I was walking up the stairs, we met in the middle on his way down, I looked up only to hear him say, "the return of the mohican". WTF! I have no idea what that means. I'm starting to calm down a little so I think I'll end this before I change my mind on anything.

listening to right now: High Fidelity by Daft Punk

Aforementioned Wank-fest.

jesse

uugghh,.....Ideas?

well, I suppose I can join the throngs of millions of people in the world who greet life on a Monday morning with no real original ideas. (I know all four of you are very disappointed right now). I did however do my fair share of "bum in seat, eyes forward" this weekend, both at home, and in the theater. We checked out Michel Gondrys', Be Kind Rewind, which was a nice little movie about community. I did however find myself wanting more of Gondry's visual prowess to be on display. Mos Def, is probably the coolest dude around. Not so cool, were some of the lines in quite a good film about redemption, In Bruges. Staring Colin Farrell, Ralph Fiennes, and Brendon Gleeson. In Bruges is a film about 2 hit-men who are hiding out in Bruges, Belgium after one of them killed a priest (albeit a deserved one) and a young boy (accidentally). The films moral center features the debate of finding some sort of redemption after committing such a horrible act. As far as the un-cool lines are concerned, there were a few moments of "racism", and "homophobia" that most of the audience were unsure whether or not were funny. I felt a tad bit uncomfortable but tried to relate the insensitivity to the characters. This guy did just murder 2 people. The director's cut of Zodiac more than holds up from my first viewing, and Sunshine seems to be (with The Fountain) one of the most under appreciated movies of the last few years. For those of you wondering how things are shaping up across the pond, Manchester United edged a little closer to league leader's Arsenal this past weekend with a win over "U.S. player heavy" Fulham. 1 point separates us. Champions League tomorrow, and possibly the short story. Laters.

listening to right now: Latitudes by Pela

jesse