The one that goes to eleven

July 28, 2011

So this week I started a new part time job. It doesn’t pay all that well—it’s part time—less than unemployment—so not really what I was hoping for. Let me stop you before what most people want to say here comes out. I KNOW it is better than nothing, and I’m thankful to have it. I’m a little down that it turned out to be the only option made available to me, but that happens. I’m discouraged and not happy about it. It will be tough on us right now but it is something. I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

(Well maybe just a peek. Come here Sarah Jessica Parker.)

The position is one of those low paying jobs that still make you wear fancy dress up clothes.

(Not a fan of that part even if I apparently look “adorable.”)

So after a pretty impressively bad start to my first day (a post to come later,) I returned home tired.

(Defeated actually.)

I slunk home with my lovely wifebot (thank Zeus for her!) desperate to just get into the apartment and onto the couch. I ditched my bag and my blazer—

(Yes I have to wear a blazer.)
(A navy blue one if you care to know.)
(You don’t.)

—before I even got in the car. I tossed them in the backseat and slumped into the front. It’s been over a year since I’ve had to be on my feet for 8 hours. Once at the apartment I made a beeline for the couch and my kitties.

I moped.
The wifebot readied herself/headed off to see Britney Spears.

(Flash forward!)

The next day she (the wife not Britney Spears) didn’t have to be to work till noon. As we drank coffee I grabbed my blazer and said:

“How come this doesn’t have real pockets?”

She was confused by this question. So I showed her you know by sticking my hands in the pockets that weren’t really pockets. The pockets wouldn’t open and as she took the blazer from me I couldn’t help but think “this miniature bread, I’ve been working with for about half an hour and can’t figure it out.”

(Hooray movie reference I hope at least one person gets!)

Gently as if realizing that she may have been better of marrying the guy from Life Goes On than me she explained they were sewn shut. As she did this I really could not keep the scene from “This is Spinal Tap” with Nigel’s confusion about the little bread from popping into my head fully.

I was that guy.
(Well not that guy but you know THAT GUY.)

What can I say I’m not use to dressing all fancy, well in dressy clothes that aren’t from the thrift store that is.

As a special treat my incredibly lame-o looking id photo:

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You’re welcome.

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The one where I’m Daddy Warbucks

June 9, 2011

The following post is sort of a TMI Thursday. I mean if it was true it certainly would be TMI for you dear readers. This (if real) would be a glimpse you’d really not want. I should clarify this DID actually happen but at no point was it serious. It was one of those things I come up with to mess around with my lovely wife.

Recently I decided to undertake the mission of cataloging all of our books. We have a ton of them—one of them is ‘The Cleveland Creep’ by Les Roberts—which I will be discussing on here soon. The wife has a bunch of Anne of Green Gables books. I knew this. She also has a TON of craft books. Then I came across: The Anne of Green Gables Treasury.

Me: The Anne of Green Gables Treasury? What the blue blazes?

Her: Don’t you make fun of Anne of Green Gables!

Me: No, no of course not. (I look inside.)

Her: You better not.

Me: What the…is this a book of Anne of Green Gables themed crafts?

Her: Yes.

Me: Wow.

So I of course tweeted about it. That’s just what I do—allow you to glimpse into our marital bliss. A few minutes later I decided I’d go in the bedroom and mess around with her. As I made my way I changed my mind, and settled on a kiss on the cheek instead.

(How sweet am I?)

Just as I reached the doorway she calls out: “See! Look at the support!” That was when the previous plan switched back on. She sat on the edge of the bed and I came in and spread out on my stomach next to her. She showed me the support.

Me: One person doesn’t mean a thing.

(I rubbed her back.)

Her: No, don’t touch me you jerk!

Me: You’re a big fan of Anne of Green Gables huh? I bet I know what you’d like.

Her: Ha!

Me: Now, is that anyway way to treat me?

Her: Yes.

Me: Oh come on Anne. I’m sorry.

(Rub her back.)

Her: What?

Me: Relax. What you’re feeling is natural Anne. (Kissing her elbow and arm.) You know you like Daddy

Warbucks doing this—oh wait that is Annie isn’t it?

Her: What the hell is wrong with you???

Daddy Warbucks: What?

Her: First off sick and second off that is NOT Anne of Green Gables.

Daddy Warbucks: I know I said that. Fine who would Anne screw?

Her: What?

Daddy Warbucks: Anne who would she get it on with.

Her: Gilbert I guess but he’s her age.

Daddy Warbucks: Well that is a dumb name. I think Daddy Warbucks should be allowed—yes actually Daddy Warbucks came to Green Gables on business. He likes what he sees Anne.

(Kiss her arm again.)

Her: You are gross.

(I get up to leave.)

Daddy Warbucks: Fine I’ll take my leave for now. I will return later to see if my little Anne—wait—that make it sound like you are underage. Young Anne—there because you’d be of age—Daddy Warbucks would bide his time till you were—

Her: What the hell is the matter with you?

Daddy Warbucks: You’ve upset Daddy young Anne. I shall leave but when I return I hope you are a little more shall we say loving. You don’t want to cross the Warbucks!

Her: Get out of here you sicko!

(Warbucks exits.)

A little bit later I returned.

Me: Hey honey…

Her: What?

Me: Now is that any to talk to your Gerald? He’s come to sex you up.

Her: Who?

Gerald: Being coy isn’t always sexy Anne.

Her: You mean Gilbert.

Gerald: Who the fuck is Gilbert?

Her: The dude in Anne of Green Gables is named Gilbert.

Gerald: Gilbert? What a weirdo. That’s just as bad as Gerald. You are forbidden from ever reading or watching Anne of Green Gables ever again!

Her: …

(Gerald/Gilbert exits.)

For the rest of the evening I peppered her with sexual innuendoes involving Anne and Daddy Warbucks. She’s a lucky woman.


The one with Cleveland CULTure

June 7, 2011

I fully intended to start this post with a short little poem—one that would be purposefully bad—and my own vague tribute to Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves. There is a scene in which Will Scarlett (Christian Slater) calls out a rhyme to Robin Hood.

Will Scarlett: There was a rich man from Nottingham/ who tried to cross a river/ what a dope/ he tripped on a rope/ now look at him shiver.

My intention was to write a short poem similar to what is above. It would explain the mistake I made about a submission deadline. It was bad (and slightly amusing) but I just could not bring myself to put it up here. I couldn’t take the chance someone (and there are always a few) who would think it was an honest attempt. They’d come away from here thinking I’m a bad poet.

(Shut up.)

So scratch that. No bad poem for you all. To forget about the big blunder I’ll post about Sleepaway Camp If you haven’t seen it you really should. It is an awesome piece of 80’s slasher goodness. It was made in 1983 (the slasher boom period) and is considered a cult classic. It is written, directed and produced by Robert Hiltzik—who basically has the only surviving reel. The film is the typical slasher flick about teen campers getting killed at a summer camp.

(The ending however is often listed as one of the most shocking.)

Last Saturday night I had the pleasure of seeing this movie on the big screen. I’ve seen it many times but never in a theatre (as I was 5 when it first came out.) Big props to Cleveland Cinemas Late Shift and Dave for the big (and hard) get.

(Also that’s what she said!)

It was awesome seeing it on the big screen and with so many people who had never experienced it in any form. If you’re near Cleveland you should check out the Late Shift movie series sometime. The movies are bad, awesome, sometimes awesomely bad, cheesy, fan favorites and cult classics of all kinds.

The late shift is held twice a month. The Cedar Lee Theatre hosts it the first Saturday of every month with shows 9:30 and midnight. On the third Saturday of the month it switches over to the Capitol Theatre with a midnight showing.

Then you throw in the Melt Bar and Grilled sponorship and it gets even better. How? Melt often has a movie themed sandwich for the weekend of the showing. For instance The Camp Melt Bloody Smores Sandwich:

Graham cracker, homemade creamy marshmellow, Hershey’s milk chocolate,mixed berry preserves, sweet cream cheese, dusted with cocoa powder, powdered sugar and add homemade peanut butter!

The cost is 5 bucks and the movies are always fun. They give away goofy prizes (related to the movies) and there’s always a way to get some free popcorn (again related to the movies).

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The next movie is Wet Hot American Summer on June 18th at the Capitol Theatre.


Conversations with Jimi Volume the 8th

April 11, 2011

Hello boys and girls. Gather round gather round. It’s time for another glimpse into my mind and my conversations. Yep you can learn what it is like to be as lucky as the wifebot. Enjoy.

1.

(Patting couch)

Me. Come lay with your daddy.
Her. What?
Me. I said come and lay with your daddy.
Her. I know I said it like whaat because it was creepy.
Me. What you don’t like being with your daddy?
Her. Stop that.

2.

(From the Bathroom as I pee.)
Me (singing): Reunited and it pees so goood

3.

(Looking at a picture of Helen Mirren.)
Me: I’d so hit that.

4.

(Leaving the bathroom.)

Me: Bill Murray says hi.
Her: Oh yeah?
Me: Yeah I met him on the set of Poop Busters.
Her: ….
Me: Ghost Poopers?
Her: Now that’s a good one.

5.

Me: Look your crush is on.
Her: Who?
Me: Kurt Angle.
Her: I don’t really have a crush on him.
Me: Loook you know you want to jump his Olympic Bone.
Her: What is wrong with you?


The one with a glimpse

March 9, 2011

So I’ve decided to give you a glimpse into the daily jimi.

It will not be pretty.
Trust me.

Sort of like this:

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That doesn’t normally happen. It was part of the Halloween process.

Moving on…

The alarm goes off (generally) at 6:30 in the morning. It sounds like the warning alarm on army bases or spaceships in movies.

I tell the wife it’s 6:30 and it’s time to get up. Depending on the day she’ll either get up or roll over. This is when I let her sleep for another 7 minutes and the alarm blares again. I once again tell her it’s time to get up.

Now this time she actually gets up and either says she hates the world or me. Sometimes both of these things happened.

I stay in bed as gets ready. Sometimes I manage to stay awake until she leaves. On these days she gives me a kiss and we say our goodbyes. Other days I fall asleep and she probably hates me.

When DSN (Digital Sports Network—shows on the internet) was actually broadcasting I’d wake up at 9 am. On these days I’d listen to the show and troll (in the nicest and most awesomest of ways) the chat room. It was a fun creative process that I won’t explain here because nobody ever seemed to get my explanation.

It sort of results in the “oh haha” type answer.

Now that DSN is on hold I wake up between 9:15-9:30.
(Go on hate me if you want.)

It usually involves me waking up with my ass straight up in the air and my face smushed against the pillow. There are almost always big red sleep marks on my face. If you’re thinking of a “gay sex dream” joke save em the wifey has plowed that field already.

WAIT what?

I meant the jokes not actually you know her rogering me in the bum.
Uhm moving on…

So I wake up and of course before anything put water on to boil.

Gots to get my coffee on.

Then I sit down and check my email. Now this is a process sort of done with one eye shut. I open it hoping to not see some form rejection letters. These days they are piling up from publications and possible employers.
It’s at this point (or possibly earlier) that Carissa has hit me up on gchat with WAKE UP or some other witty way of saying that.

(ClevelandPoet@gmail.com if you too wish to tell me to wake up or you know chat.)

I try to scribble some notes or decide what will be worked on (writing wise) that day. When the coffee is ready I try and sit down and tackle my google reader. Some of you are probably on it and I will tell you know when I click it and there are already like 15 of you with posts I curse you. These days I can barely do 2 in a row and you all make me look bad.

Part of the problem is mine are so story based on what is happening and what I’ve done. Since losing my job those stories have tapered off because honestly I don’t do anything now.

AnyFeelingSorryForMyself after reading and sipping on my coffee the job search usually begins. This is where the day usually goes to shit. I had been trying to tackle some writing first. I learned early on the job search/application process really drains me. It ruins the writing on most days. I’d do a couple hours of writing and then the job search.

As it dragged on and I freaked out more I switched it around. It really has destroyed any thorough writing. I was worried though—still am. So I search first and for longer than I actually write during the day sometimes.

This pains me but yet it happens continually.

Did I mention since the chaos of protest began in the Middle East I do all this while watching/listening to Aljazeera English?

Well I do. I’m enthralled by it. I can’t stop. It inspires me and has led to more writing than I’ve been use to as of late. Also it’s led to some fucked up violent dreams. I mean like hours and hours of the coverage would be playing on my computer as I went about my day.

Around 2pm I’d remember that I hadn’t eaten all day and scrounge up some food.

Sometimes (more lately) I’ll search for a bad movie to watch. Recently: Killer Barbys vs. Dracula, Zombie Honeymoon and Lure: Teen Fight Club and (painfully) Zombie Bloodbath

Why?

Because at the B Movie Brigade we watch it so you don’t have to. Zombie Bloodbath is up and the others will be soon.

(Cheap plug)
Also what happens!

I suffer through these bad movies and take detailed notes. These notes have a very detailed key to make sense of them. If you were to look at the notebook it’d be gibberish.

(What else is new?)

Sometimes after some more writing I take a nap. I did this a couple time while listening to Aljazeera English and that was bad idea. We can substitute a nap with going for a walk. This was always a highlight—until winter really hit. I still try to go for at least a short walk during the day.

Then yoga.
Sometimes naked.
The wife likes that for some reason.

She’s never here for it is probably why. At 5 the day swings into more of a sports watching mode with some work on writing thrown in. There was a point or at least a joke I wanted to have thrown in here at the end. The only problem is it has slipped my mind

Jokes on you I guess.


The one with Hoth

January 11, 2011

I think (before we proceed) we need to take a moment and appreciate the fact that I’ve written three posts about this trip and it’s still the first night. Hell we haven’t even reached my friend’s place yet. It is a skill folks.

(It is.)

So after single handedly saving the life of the two women in the stuck truck we were on our way. Music blasting we drove around the city. Everything was clearing up or so it seemed.

(dun dun dun.)

We crossed over the bridge and right into a mini traffic jam. It seems there was a big ole semi stuck (well unable) to make a turn. This would also become a theme of the trip too. A truck a day was stuck or stopped or just generally in our way. I’ll set the scene up for you. This big ole semi was trying to make a left turn and not able to make it full around the bend. He kept trying, failing and then backing up to try again. It may have been the snow. It may have been the steepness of the turn. It may have been there wasn’t enough honking to give him the extra turbo around the corner.

We turned down that side street before it was obvious we would not be going anywhere. Then were quickly pinned in when several others came behind us. Don’t worry they quickly took up the honking slack and he was soon able to push on.

(No he wasn’t.)

The honking and light flashing commenced. Finally we made it through this and were on our way to Bensonhoth….er I mean Bensonhurst.

(I can use the same joke as many times as I like!)

Besides it did resemble the ice planet of Hoth. Just as we were on the verge of truly understanding the scope of the Ice planet he decided he needed another starbucks fix. Luckily for him (not really) there happened to be a drive thru 24 hour one right around the corner from where we were. Despite R2D2’s warning bleeps he made the turn. I could see the famed Cyclone ride that no matter how boring has its name attached to many a thing. Ah the gateway to Coney Island. It looks uhm quaint.

(Yeah we’ll go with quaint.)

Poised to make a u-turn to easily access the starbucks we were confronted with a mini wall of snow. Instead we drove onward to the light and turned around there. As we neared the entrance we could see that it would not be easy (at all) to get in there. Our fearless Sulu was determined to get his expensive caffeine fix and plowed into the entrance. This of course led to us being stuck.

He maneuvered: Nothing.
He shifted: Nothing.
He talked to Brynhildr: Nothing.

I got out to push. Just as I did one big ole 4×4 truck pulls up behind us. Can you guess what they did has I pushed? Yep they honked. I trounced around in the snow to give it another push. They honked again and then drove crazily around us and into the parking lot. As I’m still pushing they blow past us. They laughed as they exited. Finally I got us free and we pull in and around only to find it closed. Of course. They can only keep the doors open so long. They can’t keep waiting for Han and Luke to return it’s starting to freeze.

Star Wars FTW!

Oh right so we continue on our way. We enter his neighborhood or what was left of it. There were tons and tons of snow piled everywhere. There were cars just parked anywhere they could find. Hello Mr. Snow bank. Hello Mr. Stuck Car. The blocks were inaccessible. Not only because of the snow (unplowed) roads of the blocks but because snow was plowed into a blocking wall in front of the blocks. It was crazy. I’m still pretty sure the reason Manhattan was so clear was they pushed the snow over to this neighborhood. His block was totally blocked off. It was clear we’d have to park elsewhere and walk. So we drove.

AND DROVE.

Then we drove some more. There was nowhere to park. Nothing accessible at all. We began to get desperate. There was talk of parking in Manhattan and taking the train in. Then he came up with a worse plan. He (in our desperation) decided we’d just park anywhere (stuck or not) and leave it there. I mean after all there was no way they were plowing with all the cars littering the streets. His first choice wasn’t too far from his place. The problem was it was literally just this huge bank of snow. The idea being just drive into till stuck near the curb. He did. We made it nowhere near the curb. We got 2 tires into the snow mountain and that was it.

Time for me to Hulk up I guess. I got out and pushed forward. Nothing—a whole lot of nothing really. I got back in. We decided to push it back out of the snow trap. A feat easier said than done. I pushed and pushed. We dug (with our hands) a bit. Froze and pushed some more.

The whole time there was wave after wave of people walking and driving past us.

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That crude paint job was pretty much what it was like. After about 15 minutes or more of being stuck I broke out a few extra herculean pushes. We were free but of course had nowhere to park. We drove some more.

Finally desperate again we decided the abandoning type of parking was the best bet. This time we found a better place. It was pretty much triple parked but we were in and not too stuffed in snow or other cars. It was a bit of a walk so we only really took what we didn’t want to leave behind. You know to be stolen or impounded. I had this huge bag so I just took what I thought I’d need. I stuffed pants and a shirt for the next day in my messenger bag and we were on our way. I had my messenger bag around my shoulder, then my computer bag and finally my camera bag. It was cutting off air by the time we made our way down the snow covered street. We navigated the snow blockade and even the icy sidewalks. The home stretch was behind us. My conversed feet were frozen but there would be warmth and relaxation soon.

This is what we arrived to (click for full horror):

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And after walking and weaving through this we arrived to his door:

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See those holes in the snow? Yeah that is us. It was high and not heavy so we sunk right on down. We finally get in and upstairs. Shove off our coats and sit. Of course at this point we realize we have no alcohol at all. That night was a reason to drink if there ever was one.


What I learned from last week

October 25, 2010

What I learned from last week:

I’m working on a piece for here that simply refuses to cooperate. So until then a short little review thang. Mostly I just wanted an excuse to show the picture at the end. Enjoy bitches!

I like to get glassware. Well to be fair I already knew that. Let’s just say it was reaffirmed. It was Cleveland Beer week and many of the events gave away glasses.

I have a problem with The Red Hot Chilli Peppers. This was also not too much of a revelation but as of late I find myself changing the station when they come on. I’ve even groaned one time. It is not that I don’t like them—well at least I did like them. I dunno. I just change em right off the bat now.

I miss painting my nails. Sort of. It causes such a stir still. It just sucks having to take time to do it. It does help me avoid writing though.

God has a sense of humor or irony. The other day in the spirit of spirit day (haha get it) I painted my nails purple. T o show my support of the lgbt (or anyone actually) anti bullying campaign. Not an hour after that I went for my daily walk. Not even 20 minutes into the walk I got heckled by some guy.

Painting your nails makes you “some sort of faggot” See above.

Dracula (1931), Bela Lugosi and Dwight Frye will trump college football. I was going to watch the 2nd half of scheduled college football games but then saw Dracula was playing. Yeah I missed some football for the time it was on.

That I can be ninja like. This may come as a surprise to those of you who have seen me but it is true. Whilst visiting the former employer (to see people I like only) I proved it on more than one occasion. There were former higher ups that I did not want to deal with and each time they came near me my hood was up in a jiffy. Or I was dipping and bolting behind things and it was all avoided.

I still dig meeting people I’ve met because of twitter. Two more off the list: @Q104Rebecca and @BrewersDaughter

That I want halloween soda!

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Jones Soda co. makes it and it be tasty, but of course I’m on a diet.

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The above hat was one of the best buys ever. Ninja Turtle hat FTW

Wow I didn’t really learn anything of consequence did I? Shut up! You learn anything last week?


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