Poem

Here's a poem I wrote a long time ago. It isn't very good. And I say it isn't very good even though I hate when people post their creative shit and then immediately begin ducking away from it. So I'll elaborate and say that I like this poem a lot because writing it was fun and there are parts I get a kick out of every time I read it. But I am not a poet. I have never been good at poetry, and I seldom if ever try to write poems. Sometimes I wish I was a poet. There's something about a good poem that makes it, I think, a superior form of art compared to almost everything else. Which is probably why I never read poetry either. Half the time I don't get it. Or, when I do get it, it seems so simple, so obvious. Most poems are a disappointment. Most poems suck. But when they're good, they're really fucking good. So here is my poem, which, even though it sucks, for me it is really fucking good.

The 5-Day Forecast for Bullshit Land

The snow missed Manhattan,
hit Bullshit Land instead. No soft powder,
only ice, sharp in my face.

I paused, inhaled frost, tightened
my chest, nipples erect, cursed
Sam Champion for raising hopes,

And made my gentle steps down
the sidewalk. After 13 blocks I was
snotty and winded at your door.

You insisted I keep my jacket,
didn’t offer tea, only six reasons
not to untie my shoes, to tighten my scarf,

step back into the ice. The storm inside
was worse, you said, with lies and anger
followed by make-up sex as we move into

the weekend. Better if we spare ourselves
the bullshit. I paused, inhaled frost, and
made my gentle steps down the sidewalk.

Eight "yo mama" jokes

1. Yo mama so fat were in her right now

2. Yo mama so fat she has been declared a natural habitat for Condors

3. Yo mama so stupid she called Dan Quayle for a spell check.

4. Yo mama so lazy that she came in last place in a recent snail marathon.

5. Yo mama so hairy you almost died of rugburn at birth!

6. Yo mama so nasty I called her to say hello, and she ended up giving me an ear infection.

7. Yo mama so ugly they didn't give her a costume when she tried out for Star Wars.

8. Yo mama so flat she's jealous of the wall!

*BONUS JOKE!!*: Yo mama hair so nappy she has to take Tylenol just to comb it.

Today's Wisdom

Most tattoos demonstrate bad taste.

Can I have sex with you?

I would like to have sex with you. May I?

Operation: Motorcyle, part 4

Today, I went to the DMV and got the reading material for taking the motorcycle learner's permit test. On my way back out I was completely spaced and jumped right in front of a car and I'm not sure how it didn't kill me. I then was spaced and in shock from my near-death experience and so I promptly stepped right in front of a second car, this one coming from the opposite direction(!). Now, thoroughly concerned about where my head was at, I got in my car, drove off in the wrong direction, drove back, missed my turn, missed my turn a second time, pulled over, yelled at myself in the mirror for a minute, and then got going again. (They really shouldn't let people like me on the road.)

I went to Borders and got The Idiot's Guide to Motorcycles (endorsed by Jay Leno!), and Street Strategies by David L. Hough. Street Strategies was recommend to me by some old-school cruiser guy who was hanging out in the motorcycle section. He was bald and pot-bellied and said he's been riding for over 35 years, so I will trust in his wisdom re: the book.

Then I stopped at the motorcycle dealer and inquired again about the used Z1000 and an SV650. I tell ya, I'm starting to get a little skeptical of these guys. I talked with a different sales guy today than I did last time, and it turns out that the Z1000, which I originally heard was an '05, is in fact an '03. So it is no longer the amazing deal that I thought it was (though it's still not bad, and still within my price range). They have an '05 SV650, which the sales guy said he could knock down to $5500 from $5900, making it the best deal I've seen so far for a new bike. However, today's sales guy kept saying the SV650S is the "standard" version of the bike, while the non-S is the sleeker "sport" version. This didn't sound right, so I checked the Suzuki site when I got home and sure enough it's the reverse -- the S is the slightly more expensive sport version. Not a killer mistake, and I can understand how someone would make it, but that's the second time I've walked out of their with some degree of wrong information. Regardless, at $5500, the SV650 is hard to beat.

I also saw a Kawasaki Vulcan while I was there. It's a nice bike and costs less than $5000. However, it doesn't have fuel injection or a rear disc brake, and it has a smaller engine than the Suzuki, so since I can get the SV650 for only $500 more, I think the extra niceties are more than worth the price. (The one possible down side on the SV650 is that I forgot to ask which color it was and they've only got the one '05 in stock. If it's the fugly yellow color, I'm not sure I could stomach it.)

And I got info on a good riding instructor from that guy at Borders. Allegedly there's some dude in Ronkonkoma who has a bunch of small bikes that he teaches n00bs to ride on, so I'm going to check that out. It sounds like a cool deal.

The ethics of continuing to shop at Small Dog Electronics

I try to shop at Small Dog Electronics as often as possible when I need computer stuff. I prefer to support them because I like to support smaller, mom and pop type stores instead of big chain monsters. And I like that as a business they support a number of lefty causes. But pretty much every order I've ever made through them has had something wrong with it. I've gotten the wrong stuff, I've gotten broken stuff, I've gotten broken stuff that was then replaced with the wrong stuff... on and on and on. It's maddening. They did once go above and beyond the call of duty, getting me a laptop overnight, which was great. But it's hard to let that outweigh my annoyance at so many other orders having gone wrong.

So, should I stick by Small Dog no matter what? Should I tolerate these inconveniences and take comfort in the knowledge I'm helping to keep the world safe for the little guy and for businesses that give a hoot? Or is it time to move on to Mac Mall, who has not yet made a mistake on one of my orders and who also has great prices -- even though one day they might turn into the next Wal-Mart?

I suppose it's a question of values: reward the business that actually does the best job at being a business? Or reward the business that does the better job at being a socially conscious corporate citizen?

Braces off

Twenty-seven months later, the braces are finally off. Amazing. Everything still isn't finished, however. I have a temporary bond holding one of my teeth in place because it has suffered a lot of bone loss, and I'm getting a temporary bridge on Feb 6 to replace a missing tooth, and the final bridge goes in about a week later.

It's been a weird experience, having braces as an adult -- one I'm still reflecting on. Somewhere within it all is a commentary on American values. I'll write more about it later.

Today's Wisdom

Leftovers for dinner are a disappointment, but leftovers for lunch are a treat.

Done with white girls

As I was mentally chronicling the last week or so of my new dating experiment, it occurred to me that the top three best dates I've been on have all been with non-white girls.

The number two and three spots are held by girls who are black or half-black, half-other, and the number one spot is held by a Chinese girl who believes in UFOs, astral projections, mental telepathy, ESP, clairvoyance, spirit photography, telekinetic movement, full trance mediums, the Loch Ness monster, the theory of Atlantis, rock 'n' roll, national healthcare, sailing, fancy wines and cheeses, omelets instead of pancakes, leather-bound books, and kicking people in the face. With them I've been to all sorts of bars and clubs and scenic overlooks and other crap I might not have ever gone to otherwise, and I've had an all around great time. There's even a chance that me and the Chinese girl are going to take a one-hour "flying lesson" together (for $100, an instructor takes you up and lets you steer the plane around for a bit. Pretty cool.).

By contrast, the white girls have seldom been up for more than the standard movie-dinner-beer triple play. Not that that can't be a fun time, but you figure the singles scene is just a non-step merry-go-round of dating and you'd want to raise the bar instead of doing the same 'ol same 'ol all the time. Especially since the triple play is what you'll be doing all the time once you're an old and tired established couple. Why dive into the rut so soon?

So I'm done with white girls for a bit. Hopefully one will come along soon and show me she's got more going on than the suburban blues; but until then my eye's going to linger a little longer on the ethnic honeys.