the one where I don’t talk about oral over dinner

July 24, 2013

It’s hard out there for a pimp, I mean poet. Okay, not really (besides the whole no money part of it.) I’m currently working on finishing up a book of poetry. A self published book of poetry. It’s probably a lot easier (the self publishing part that is) than I feel like it is or am making it.

So-Dumb

I’m working hard on that. I’m waiting on the wifebot to draw me something for the cover. Go shame her on her blog or Twitter about it. The staff art show is coming up, and I’m probably going to do a reading for the opening reception. I wasn’t sure about it, but more than a few coworkers have asked me if I was and expressed seemingly genuine happiness with my deciding to do it.

They like me. They really like me!

So I’m trying to scrounge up some poems to be read and hope to have the book ready so I can be all “buy this bitches!” Well, minus the bitches part or at the very least the exclamation point. Also I’m trying to get my shit together and work with local galleries to put together some readings and etc.

So there is some weird stuff happening in my head.

(Yeah, yeah, what else is new?)

Most of the stories I see in my head, I see as a play—on stage—or they bounce together as a poem. Lately though I’ve seen more of these flashes manifesting themselves on canvas or similar. I’ve been getting the urge to do some mixed media collage type pieces, and I know they will suck and is probably lame to try but what the heck. I’ve told myself that I’m going to stop telling myself no and just do things. I got some cool stuff cooking for here too—like movie review haikus—but that’s coming soon.

The Ohio Blogging Association has many a Cleveland meet ups, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been able to attend them. I was happy to see that I could attend July’s. This time it was at Tremont Farmers’ Market. Despite some storms and hail, the day cleared up in time for us to walk and peruse the market.

There were all sorts of bread, veggies and awesome little shops. Then we came across POPSMITH (Farm to pop): offering flavors of seasonally changing ice-pops showcasing our region’s fruits and herbs. Kat and I gladly forked over the 3 bucks and shared a red raspberry/basil one.

redraspberry

See the enjoyment??

And as that took place we came upon: Gray House Pies!!! Why does that warrant exclamation points? Two words: Drunken Cherry Pie. Okay that was three; keep your math off my blog! A pie made with tart and sweet cherries and blended with bourbon.

BOURBON.

It lead to this text between the wifebot and Rizza:

And then this between the Rizza and me:

me: my mouth will make love to the pie does that count?
rizza: just don’t American Pie it?

I assured her that I didn’t get to my pudgy status wasting pie like that.

So yeah. We headed over to Lincoln Park Pub for Taco Tuesday. It was tasty and they have a delicious hot sauce called the morning after.

Get it because it is yum.

I’m not going to complain about good food and hanging with cool/lovely ladies. You can check out their blogs at Poise in Parma, Jam in cle, Why Cle, Dog in the Cle, Clue into Cleveland, The girl I mean to be

I was happy to meet some new people and see those I’ve met before. It’s fun to hang with local bloggers and talk about writing, Cleveland, blogs, social media and anything really. It does feel funny when the others can talk about serious topics or such interesting niches or how they promote Cleveland and then it can turn to me and I’m like “I blog about blow jobs gone wrong and how I trick people.”

Grades:

Tremont Farmers’ Market: 2 blowjobs gone wrong up
Taco Tuesday at Lincoln Park Pub: 2 blowjobs gone wrong up

I’m just kidding; that’s not how I grade things. It was a fun time with fun peeps. I hope it happens more and I’m def making a Taco Tuesday trip back there.

 
This time I’ll get the “Kill me now” hot sauce.
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The one with hipsters

September 22, 2010

This is a review of the Best Coast show.
I promise. Sort of.

Well you’ve probably read me enough to know what the case is. This is a review of the Clovers/Male Bonding/Best Coast show that took place at the Grog Shop last night.

Technically.

I was there. I will review it but really this is a show that will be discussed in terms of the things (read conversations) I heard. There are no pictures except for poorly drawn ones that I probably won’t post. Actually I lie there is this:

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The only picture I took last night. It is of Admiral Ackbar with Stiller #2. After the show sitting at the bar I pulled him out (and the Admiral Ackbar too—Heyooo!) and stood him on the bar. John K who enjoyed the sentiment made the “It’s a trap!” cup soon after.

I’m getting way ahead of myself.

Like that is the end of the night and I haven’t even discussed the beginning.

You know the sex that took place beforehand. I’m just kidding.

Or am I? No really I am

Or—I know I know shut up and get on with it before you all leave.

Hello?

Anylamejoke before the night could begin we had to move the car from where it was. As we walked over to it a lady in an overalls shorts combo thing stopped us.

Lady: I’m gonna keep it real. I just got out of the Cleveland Heights jail cell. I just want a few bucks so I can get a beer and a cigarette. I’m just keeping it real you know what I’m saying.

The wife gave her a buck. I think.

On our way to the Grog Shop this happened:
Girl 1: “Remember the time we stole that wheelchair?”
Girl 2: “Yeah that was when we were stalking Dennis Kucinich”

We met Pelvic Joann out front and before we could get an old black dude said “Hey how you doing?’

Old black dude: Can I sing something for you?
Me: I dunno can you? (I’m such a dick.)
Wife: No. (The whole time she never looked up from twitter on her phone.)

He proceeds to give a mumbled low (if not somewhat creative) rap about Halloween. We headed in and there were a few minutes before the first band (Clovers) was to take the stage. As the lovely ladies I was with ordered the drinks I listened to the crowd.

A digression: I never saw so many people holding PBRs before. It was like every other person had one. Also someone was drinking wine at the grog shop? Really?

Apparently I should have worn v neck whit tee’s and skinny jeans. This conversation actually took place.

Guy in trucker hat: Dude. What is this band again?
Hipster in skinny jeans: Best Coast.
Trucker hat: What kind of music?
Skinny jeans: Hipster rock/pop.
Trucker hat: What the fuck is hipster rock.
Skinny jeans: A normal rock or pop show but you know by hipsters.
Trucker hat: Why do I hang out with you?

Now normally I may have sympathized with the trucker hat dude except it was a Budweiser trucker hat and he kept lifting up his shirt (you know “nonchalantly”) when chicks passed. Oh and he tried this line on a chick who was trying to snap a pic of her friend and herself: “You’re too pretty for a picture like that. You need someone who can capture that beauty.”

Anylameguy Clovers had a long set for an opening act at the grog. They weren’t too bad either. They had some catchy stuff but nothing that stood out too much. Number one problem with them was never said one word to the audience—other than “thank you”—at the end.

The next band Male Bonding was billed as a punk band but really did not come off as all that punk. I kid you not skinny jeans also at one point called them “Hipster Punk.” I left his area then. They too were not bad but not really memorable either. They tried a little more stage presence but couldn’t muster much.

The crowd surged for Best Coast. They played their known stuff and mixed in other (not as good—too harsh?) pieces too. The show was fast paced and hustled along. This was also because of a lack of interaction and connection, other than an awkward bit about her cat that has seizures. Best Coast came off a little heavier than what I had heard. I dug that.

I had no real connection to the band (other than liking what I had heard prior) and chose to not fight the crowd and stayed back. I scribbled some poetry in my book while letting the music and words float to me.

A strange but cute (I love you wifey!) blonde chick in an odd dress asked if I wanted to dance. When I politely declined she offered me some water. I don’t get it either. The whole time this was happening on twitter:

@Clevelandpoet (me duh!): @grogbrit now if I’m at the @grog_shop shouldn’t you be? If only for the fact that I am.

And eventually her hilarious response:

@grogbrit: @kittenkaboom @clevelandpoet – god, how do i explain? spastic girl running around, blue sweater, jeans, little heels? write that on my grave about 14 hours ago via web

Now unbeknownst to me (I couldn’t get my twitter to work—that sounds bad) I was actually chilling right next to the lovely Brittany for most of Best Coast. After the show we got her replies and eventually asked John K to help find her.

Or the wifey scared John K by saying Grogbrit! Then grabbing him by the shoulders and saying it again. He was like “what happened!” and then when explained pointed her out.

I must say the highlight of the evening was finally meeting her. I say this not just because there were free drinks involved but because she was way awesome! There had been several attempts that always fell through. This time was a success and good times.

Hooray for twitter.

Wait what was the point of this post again? Who knows but check out @overheardohio to see the funny shit that is heard daily.


The one that happened because of twitter

August 21, 2010

Wiktionary defines a tweetup:

A real-life meeting organised on the social networking site Twitter.

While I’ve heard this one more than a few times:

“People who have nothing to do meet up with people they tweet when they have nothing to do.”

Both are flawed in that they don’t involve alcohol.

Got’s to have my Jack bishes!

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Anydrinking you may gather from this that I attended a “tweetup” last night. Well that or I spend my Saturdays looking up definitions of things. You know whichever. Probably both of them.

So the legend goes that I had convinced the wifey to go to a local wrestling promotion. It was for Absolute Intense Wrestling (AIW): The World is not Enough. It was being held at a bar in Broadview Hts. The place is called Jockos sports bar. It was pretty understood that she was not going to enjoy it nearly as much as I was.

Side note: She enjoys it more than she lets on.

Anytights this had been planned for weeks. Everything was fine. We were going and I was paying for it. We’d be pretty even when it comes for the tit for tat aspect of marriage. I mean I’ve gone to more than a few musicals just for her.

Compromises bishes!

Then twitter struck. People I dig (and have met before) started planning something. Okay I’d like to see them. I like hanging with them so I have a tiny pause in my plans. No AIW on the 20th! Then they chose my favorite place—Parnell’s Pub.

Damnit.
Then there were more people going.
Damnit.

Then I freaked out about money or you know lack thereof. I figured how I spend my money has to mean something good. Spending money on a ticket for someone who didn’t really want to be there didn’t seem the best way to spend it. Spending money at a place I love, with people I dig did. So I changed my mind. We headed over to Parnell’s at about 7pm. But back that shizzle up for a second. First a bit about my day:

I woke up and made coffee.
Then I went outside to get my paper.
It of course wasn’t there.
I cursed whoever took it. I wished that whoever took it had shards of glass coated in salt shoved in their pee hole.
Looked for a job.
Emailed some jobs.
Wrote some samples.
Reviewed notes for a review I was going to do.
Realized it was time for Yoga.
Did my yoga (45 minutes bishes)
wondered why I use bishes so much did some weights.
I went for a walk. This walk lasted about an hour and a half.

Nowhere in there did you see eat right? Yeah that’s because I forgot to eat. What the heckers?

Uhm did I really just use “what the heckers?”?

So went to Parnell’s and I got to get a nice buzz because I had no food in me whatsoever. It was a fun time. It was cool to hang with Dave and Alicia again. I got to meet some new peeps too.

@willgoldstein
@katatvandy
@AllLacqueredUp
@PuckingGoalie
@tripsdad

It was a good ole time. We stayed till a few minutes after midnight. This of course was problematic since we had no dinner (and I no food all day!) and being midnight not many options. We had not cheated on the diet, but we did last night. Guys pizza to the rescue. I don’t believe this will hinder the diet at all. The next day we are back on track and ready freddy to continue on it.
There were two pictures taken during the fun times:

First there is Admiral Ackbar making sure the sharpie was not a trap.

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Then the bartender took a picture of all attendees:

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Don’t we look so happy?

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The Produce files

September 22, 2009

Yesterday was a weird one at work, and basically the first day of changes. Now if we learned anything from yesterday’s posts it was two things: I’m weird and I don’t deal with change all that well. I got to work about twenty minute earlier resigned to my fate eager to work. So after sitting around for twenty minutes hoping 3:15 never came and answering the same questions about “how I like Produce now” the actual fun in produce started.

The first thing that occurred was a lecture to “remember not to discuss company things with other employees on the floor or with customers. Make sure not portray negativity to/with the customer.” I responded I don’t talk to the customers negatively about this place…that’s what my blog is for. I don’t think they believed me. Oh well.

I went from there to meeting our new coworker in produce. See what happened was a bunch of people were switched between the two stores. So I got to meet Sammie. Of course since this is me we’re talking about went smoothly.

Not.

It went something like this. I entered the dark recesses otherwise known as the produce backroom. This of course is after the lecture and then numerous instructions from our fearless leader Steve. Brian and Sammie looked up at me from what they were doing and I said I think “yo” in a rather low voice. I did my traditional sort of half grimace smile thing. More to her than Brian, and that was my introduction. At least in my mind and I went on like there was no change. This essentially means I rambled (to nobody in particular) about how I wish I was back home already drinking whiskey or paint thinner and etc. I think this time I said I’d settle for rubbing alcohol. Then when I made eye contact with her again to make sure we were truly and properly introduced I used my patented grimace/smile thing again. I then headed out to display my wondrous banana and apple stacking skills. That of course is when I heard this:

Woman walking and talking on her cell:

“He kept joking hope you won’t give me swine flu”

(She throws around some apples)

“Till I said you want me to finish this with my hand instead then he shut up”

(Smells an apple for some reason and then walks off)

I went to the dark recesses and wrote it down and then began talking to Marcia about our Freejack tee’s when Sammie introduced herself to me. She seems nice enough. I however won’t have much contact with her seeing as I come in at 3 pm. The next weirdness didn’t happen for about 4 more hours. Here we go:

I was out on the floor (like the faithful Produce man I am) helping a customer.

Service Desk (over the intercom): Produce you have an incoming call coming back.

Me (in my head) I really couldn’t give a rats….(into phone) Produce this is jimi how may I help you? (Silence) Produce this is jimi how may I help you?

Old guy: Oh good it’s you.

(Silence)

Me: How can I help you tonite?

Old guy: I’m glad it’s you.

(Silence)

Me: Okay.

Old guy: I was trying to call you at home but somehow got you at work. That’s okay. It was programmed in the neighbor’s phone. I guess. That works. Yello?

Me: Hello?

(Silence)

Me: Sir?

(Silence)

I hang up.

It was a very strange phone call. It was sort of funny too. As I walked back out onto the floor I decided that I would use this general script to make prank phone calls. Perhaps I’ll start with other Produce departments and then move on to offices. Who knows?


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