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.

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The one with January top Overheard

February 18, 2011

Don’t forget about @overheardohio on twitter. So without further delay here is the top ten sent into Overheard Ohio:

10. “I’ve been sitting at the computer so long my ass hurts & I think I have carpe diem in my wrists” – Girl at Speedway.

9. “You shouldn’t draw pictures of men sleeping on sofas.”–Semi-hipster dude at Fatheads to his buds.

8. “This Martin Luther King guy was the man huh mom?”–young kid to his mom.

7. “Any black girls lost their weave?Is there a lost and found, weave is expensive” guy at Waffle House.

6. “We can at least agree that the homeless have it better in terms of ability to pee wherever they want,right?”

5. “I can’t wait till spring so I can let this big ass hang all out!”–girl with big booty at the bus stop

4. “You need to stop staring at that young ladies chest & pay attention to what I have…to teach you.” Tutor to kid at Beachwood mall

3. “Hey they is dying in Iraq for my right to have a fucking ice cream cone. I put it up there. Count them
pennies!”

2. “What am I doing? I’m walking her dumb dog in the fucking cold. Why? Have you seen her tits?”—Guy walking dog.

1. “You peed on a dude because he thought that was sexy and you’re calling me crazy?” –guy on phone.


The one where I ask for a job

February 3, 2011

Last night I went to the Cavs game.

(Go ahead get it out of your system.)

It was a fun time. Yes they lost again. This was their 3,789 loss in a row. That number *May* be a little off, so check on it.

(Not by much.)

(Hey whose side are you on parenthesis?)

(…)

Yeah that’s more like it. They didn’t play too bad. There were moments where they appeared to be playing drunken dodge ball. That comment is courtesy the lovely Rizza. It was a good time as it almost always was. The place was nowhere near what it was during the well yeah….

AnyNotBringingHimUp it probably had to do with the company I had, but who cares if I had fun right? Rizza hit me up earlier in the day and asked if I wanted to go to the game with her. My answer in 90% of these times is “YES!” and last night was no different. The wifey dropped me off at the arena at about 6:40. I waited in front for Rizza and V to get there. As I was battling the cold I was approached by a man and a woman.

I was leaning against the railing and scrolling through “The twitter” as my former boss would call it. The man and woman looked pretty crunked up (in the non drunk or high way) and were carrying about 6 Family Dollar bags. This is what happened:

Man: Heyyyy my brotha.
Me: Hey hey.
Man (nudging woman): Say hi to the man.
Woman: grhergahsh (That is what it sounded like)
Me: Hell-o
Man: How you doing today my brotha?
Me: Cold but good.
Man: I KNOW you doing good. You looking good.
(I look down at myself)
Me:
Man: (To woman) Don’t he? (Doesn’t let her answer) Yeah he does. My brotha can I ask ya for a favor.
Me: Fire at will.
Man: Well okay, can you spare some change or anything so my lady and I can get some food?
Me: Dude if I had…
Man: Now I know a lot of drug bums ask for money, but we are not. I work two jobs….
Me: Dude if I could I would.
Man: I know you would! Again I have two jobs I just need some more help.
Me: Oh man you have two jobs! Can I have one of them because I don’t have a job?
Man (Pulling woman as she wanders off): Serious? Are you kidding? Man these times really is tough. When did you lose—

(He sees someone who’d be better to ask and leaves mid sentence.)


The one where a guy gives me a present

November 4, 2010

The night started with a whole lot of indecision. On the television was some sports show that I had long since forgotten about. To the right sat my iphone. To the left there was the unfinished cup of coffee. In the middle I slumped into the couch. It seemed to be pulling me into its old cushions. On my lap a notebook laid open. A poem finished darkened its pages.

Words and inspiration hit fast and faded faster. When the phone called out I hesitated. I looked over at it and waited. Perhaps it would just tell me the text message. Maybe I wouldn’t have to move. Its robot voice would just calmly state:

“So and So said blah, blah and blah.” I waited.

It would hopefully throw in a bleep bloop bloop too. It did none of these. I slowly reached over breaking the moment. It wasn’t laziness that argued I leave the text to itself. Not exactly. It was the drained despair of creation that would be disturbed. At that moment it was just me, the words on the page (and my head) and the couch’s embrace. But the poem was written, what would be the harm? I reached over just as it honked angrily again.

“Fuck you Iggy.” That was the name of my phone.

I closed the notebook confining the infant words to darkness. I knew who it was. It was Williams. There had been plans semi made. That was before the words. Before the despair and before the winds of creation had knocked me back a few steps.

Eventually we made our way down to the Coventry Winking Lizard. The inside bulged with people. The doorway was an obstacle course of jacketed guys and girls. We snaked around them a few nods and acknowledgements tossed about like business cards. The blonde asked us all the pertinent questions. As she waited for our I.D.s she wiggled her nose just a bit. It was a cute little nothing.

“Ah HA! I’m on to you with your witchy ways! I’ve seen the show!” I could yell. For just a split second it seemed a doable thing to yell. It would (could?) end in a rousing rendition of “Witchy Woman” sung by the three of us. Satisfied she walked us to our table. As she left I felt a sadness fill her void.

The Christmas Ale came in pitcher form. It was cold and warming at the same time. The talk swung toward writing. It was fast and furious. The brakes were ripped out and a hill loomed. Projects were—

“Yes! Nice shot.” I interrupted on more than one occasion.

“How are the Cavs doing?” I’m not sure he cared all that much, but I was interrupting enough.

“Down by one now. It’s a game again.” My glass was filled again. And again. And again. The evening passed quicker. Soon there were plans with other people, other writers.

We found ourselves at the Old Angle Tavern. Or actually we found ourselves walking in the chilly Cleveland air on W. 25th. The warmth the Christmas Ale provided felt good. We looked. We went in the wrong direction. When found our co-conspirators they sat at a filled table. They weren’t co or even conspirators at this point. They weren’t later in the evening either. They were just people, writers, and students. Drinkers. Revelers if revelers reveled in a respectful way. Could they really? Names were had and mostly forgotten.

There was the girl who appeared out of nowhere and pulled up a chair. She was of the touchy feely kind, putting her arm over shoulders as she spoke to you. Closeness was not a problem for her. She was drunk when she arrived. As the night wore on (and the drinks piled up) the weirdness did too. Francine (as I soon named her in my head) began to pick up our empty bottles. After stealing the miniscule drop from the very bottom she’d hold onto the bottle. It was her drink. It was an empty but it was her drink. She’d bring it to her mouth every now and then. She’d part her lips and drink the nothing. It was an oddly sexual thing, but did not seem directed toward anyone.

As quickly as she appeared she disappeared. Out the door she fled. The whole table dwindled but not before Iggy spoke up again. A text.

47*-06**: What’s going on down there. Anything worth driving down there for? R*** from 4square.
Me: I’m here so you know it’s always popping.
Well first it was, Me: What the hell? Who the hell is R**** from 4square and why are they texting me? And then drunkenly I responded with the always popping bit.
R****: Cool I’m gonna stop in.

“Hey Williams I think I just got myself murdered. You can’t let that happen. My wife will kill you if I get killed.” I drank some more. He promised to not let me get killed. After some more time and a “Old Angle Jameson High Ball” we headed into the chill. The moon winked at us. We said our goodbyes and marched to our car.

As we rounded the corner of the Garage bar another pair of dudes made their way to the parking lot. They came from the side opposite of us. We ended up at the very same spot. Their car pointed in at us.

“Hey” Guy one called as they reached their car.
“Yo. Yo”

Williams was still moving. I don’t know if he said anything. I imagine he didn’t.

“You know what? I got something for you. This. Here this is for you.” He reached into his car.

“Run. Go! Get to the choppa” it was what I was going to warn Williams with. Then the black jacket guy brought out a pink stuffed animal.

“Sure!” He handed it to me and disappeared into his car.

I got in the car. I looked at the pink pig or hippo or whatever the hell it was. “That was weird, right?”

“Weird things happen to you a lot don’t they?” He started the car.

I guess that is one way to put it.

His name is Bobo:

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The one with the lettuce

October 28, 2010

Hello kiddies. It’s time once again for us to delve back into the gross and disgusting. This TMI Thursday happened last night. It usurped the TMI post I had planned to write about. Today would have chronicled the making of Brownaconda: Dead Duck but that can come next week.

No today’s post is by special request by the wife.

It's A Trap Pictures, Images and Photos

I know this. I know it’s a trap. How? Well the reason she wants me to post this is she wants it to shine a bad light on me. She wants all of you to be on her side. It also proves how funny she actually feels it was, and it really was.

Last night was the Cavs home opener. It was a blast. I of course went with (and thanks to) the rizza. We pre-gamed at Cleats because the beers at the Q are 7.25. There we had 2 miller lights and a shot. I guess the blood work that was done earlier helped the buzz because my head was nice and warm when we left. From there we cheered our asses off for our Cavs. They won! This is not the point though. We shared 2 beers. To celebrate we all went to get a drink after the game.

The wifey and I headed home and to our chipotle salad bowl dinner. We watched an episode of HIMYM as we ate. Then we just sort hung around with the tv on. She of course was staying up too late yet again. When she finally decided to head off to slumberland I was still enjoying the remnants of my buzz. I sat on the couch and she straddled me. That’s right.

BOW CHIKA BOW BOW

Finally another TMI sex post. No I’m just kidding. It was just time for a kiss or two, or so I thought. Instead she started to shake my head and face whilst talking to me like I was the cat. She flipped her fingers on my lips to cause the blub blub blub sound. Then a kiss on the cheek and lips and a hug. Soon it was back to the above face shaking.

She is a weird one.

Then one big kiss right on the lips. Hold it. Hold it. And then she opened her eyes wide and held the kiss. Staring creepily into my eyes with her lips on mine. At this point I could feel a piece of lettuce in my mouth so as pay back I pushed it out of my mouth and onto/into hers.

I then said “did it..” when she freaked.
“Yeah it worked! I was hoping that would happen!” But she flipped!

I mean FLIPPED (Probably rightfully so but still it was funny.) Now to be fair I was not attempting to put it in her mouth but you know hey that happens right? She like jumped off and ran off. She ran off through the hallway yelling gross the whole way. Right into the bathroom she went. She started putting water in her mouth and spitting out.

She started to brush her teeth furiously and then even gargled. The whole time she was telling me I was gross and that I was sleeping on the couch. Which only made it seem funnier. I was going to say sorry but she was making me laugh. Then for a second she cracked a smile but then in an ultimate actress stunt began to over exaggeratedly gag.

Exaggerated gag.
Exaggerated gag.

And you guessed it exaggerated gag. We got in bed and she claimed she’d never ever get the thought of it out of her head. It would haunt her for the rest of her life.

Over exaggerated bed gag. (bow chikka bow bow)

Finally she calmed down as she lay in bed. I told her this was too funny not to TMI. She said that I should because then you all could see how disgusting I was, and be mad at me too. This morning I decided I’d rather do the Brownaconda post but she insisted I do this one.

I still maintain it was funny.

*Ackbar photo from Utepeis


It’s a RECAP! or My first week unemployed

March 22, 2010

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Run! Gooo. Get to the choppa! ( I use this so much that I finally added “choppa” to the Microsoft word dictionary.)

I’m sorry I’m mixing my movie jokes again.

So my time as unemployed has begun. Like you couldn’t tell, but I digress. It’s been a weird week. I did some writing which was important. Did I make an all out breakthrough with anything? No, not really. I did do a good chunk of writing though and I managed to make some headway in the mess that is the currently play.

Organization is apparently an important thing.

I’ve made some goals. Goals are good right? I mean in soccer they are so they gotta be for me right? Cleveland Public Theatre (A local theatre here) will be receiving lots of scripts and etc from me in the near future. Also I need to be smart and take part in their ‘Dark Room’. It is held on the second Tuesday of every month and I think will be a great tool for any writer and/or actor. Actors and writers show up to a place where there is free Magic Hat beer (!) and writers bring 10 pages of writing to be read. Everyone gets together and bam just like that writers get to hear what their words sound like. Inconceivable!

You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.

Sorry I did that whole random quote thing again. It does bring me to the next thing I did which was go see The Princess Bride at the @capitolw65th. It is part of their late shift that shows cult classic movies twice a month. It was a good time and provided some nice ‘Put my arm around my wife and laugh time’ that can be hard to come by sometimes. The late shift is a good time and cheap. You get some good times (either because you enjoy the movie or because it’s so bad you enjoy laughing at it) and it only cost 5 bucks. They do a good job of making it a fun time. They’ve had cake, ice cream, candy, dress ups and giveaways.

Most of the week has been sitting on my ass. Which yes has been a good thing but it’s also sucked a bit. The main problem was that the unemployment started right as March Madness did. I’ve not been able to watch all of the games in a long time and did not plan accordingly. The weather was nice enough to take walks but since I went about my routine of writing when I wake up I’d miss the chance. I’d write till it was time for the games to begin and by then it was too late to take a walk. My ass rapidly became sore (That’s what she said!) from sitting so damn much.

St. Patrick’s Day has always been fun for me. This year was one where I didn’t have to take it off to have the fun. The wife made cupcakes that are clear proof of Gods existence.
Or that she makes tasty things. Anycupcake. What she made was chocolate Guinness cupcakes with Irish whiskey Ganache filling and bailey’s butter cream frosting. Defuckinglightful! Dinner consisted of Beef and Guinness stew also defuckinglightful. The night consisted of spending time with Julie, Brandon Lindsay and my lovely wifey at Parnell’s Pub. A real fricking Irish Pub! You don’t get no car bombs or green fricking beer at this place. What do you get? Well I got a shirt that says it has the best head in Cleveland. Yeah!

Oh yeah filed for unemployment.

Beachland Brunch on Sunday with Julie, Marc, Brandon, and the wifey was tasty as ever. The wife and I shared a Bloody Ninja bloody Mary there. Yeah I k now the name is awesome! I’m happy that I’m mixing it up with new people. I don’t have many people I let it and I sort of make it hard to get to know me, but I think my group is expanding.

Yeah Progress!

So to sum up: Filing, Sitting, writing, sitting, sitting, sitting, Drinking, shirt buying, cupcakes, stew, sitting, friends, sitting, reading, writing, basketball, basketball, basketball, soccer, sitting, The Princess Bride, sitting, Brunch, sitting,


Bozo of the week: A real shooter

January 7, 2010

Aren’t you a lucky bunch of readers? Why is that? You get to read my TMI Thursday guest post I did for the very lovely Mel over at Pursuit of your boyfriend.

Warning to Family it involves things being blown. Those things may be glass ornaments or body parts I won’t specify which, but don’t go if your family! Otherwise clicky clicky!

I’m very happy to do the guest post for her. If you’ve never read her you need to get on that. Start with mine and just keep on going! Anyhizzle,on to this post. I didn’t want to write another TMI Thursday because that would take away from the guest post. I went with a bozo of the week. There’ve been a ton I could use but I’ll go with Gilbert Arenas.

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Now a bit of background in case some of you aren’t too sure who he is. Gilbert Arenas is a NBA star for The Washington Wizards. He’s a great scorer and well more than a little quirky. He’s always had the kind of personality that came off as a bit out there but generally harmless. Then he did something pretty stupid but you know in a way just a mistake and nothing really more. He stored his guns in his locker at the Verizon Center.

Okay you know not the smartest move but still not the worst thing. Then he in an apparent tiff with a teammate pulled the guns out. At one point he allegedly left them on a chair next to the teammate’s locker with a “pick one” note. Getting dumber here Gilly my boy. So when authorities caught wind of this there was gonna be trouble. The NBA also has a policy about guns in arenas. Uh oh! The NBA stayed out of it letting the police handle it first, but then good ole shoot em up Arenas went all bozo on us. His dealings with the media made it apparent that he thought it was all a joke. Then he and his teammates pulled this during intros:

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He used finger guns to shoot his teammates up during the Intros of the Wizards Vs Philadelphia game two nights ago. The next day he was suspended indefinitely by the league. He sort of forced their hand in the situation. So Gilbert Arenas gets the Bozo of the Week award (Don’t shoot me!)


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