The Theme of the Day Is, Themes

I am endlessly amused and impressed by collections of clips displaying themes in pop culture that we take for granted. And so today I have amassed for you a COLLECTION OF COLLECTIONS.

Cool Guys Don't Look at Explosions (Lonely Island):


I'm Not Here to Make Friends (FourFour):


Finally Tonight, Jesus (Everything is Terrible):


Put the Camera Down/Turn It Off (FourFour):


Medicine (Target Women with Sarah Haskins):


I could actually use a lot of other Sarah Haskins videos, I'm sure. I'll leave just this one for now, since I was shocked that I never noticed this stupid black and white theme.
I'll add more as I find/they inspire... please leave any I've missed!

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Bah

I am busy and will be busy for a while.

In the meantime, watch this:

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Can Someone Explain To Me

How do the little pictures next to stories on Google News get chosen? Because sometimes they are only vaguely related. For example:

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Youtube Favorite... Saturday

Hey. Sorry I'm late again. Finals are cracking down. (Aaaaaand Season 4 of Buffy arrived in the mail.)

So, some lighter fare today:

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Presedential Pick-Me-Up: Part 1

Happy Leap Day! Or is it Leap Year Day? Whatever.

In case you live in a cave or forest, and your hobby of choice is poking yourself in the eyes and ears with rocks, you know (as the existence of February 29th indicates) it's an election year. And if you know me, you know I am a Kucinich person, in a big way. Please see my livejournal icon to your right. I'm devoted, y'all.

So, I was understandably disheartened by- well- I was going to say "Dennis dropping out", but also Dennis being excluded before he dropped out, the array of Dennis-bashing before he dropped out, and so on. I am frankly disenchanted with both Hillary and Barack, and while I always considered McCain the least evil of the republicans, I realize more and more how fucking crazy he is and (considering the past few elections) how much more electable that makes him. I've said it during election years before, and I'll said it again: we're doomed!

So it's nice, during these dark times, to remember that while whoever is going to end up in the White House isn't going to be exactly ideal, at least there are some people who are totally never going to end up in the White House. People who, say, want to reinstate stoning for gays and loose women, or think their cosmic destiny as president of the universe is written in the stars- the same stars that they wish to bomb as president. Vote-smart dot org has a list of just such people, and it's called the "Other" party list of presidential candidates. Don't get me wrong, I'm not knocking all third-party candidates, and I did pull a few bizarre candidates from the Republican and Democrat lists, too, but that Other list lets you get straight to the crazy. That's because on the Other list, people make up their own parties. I don't want to spoil any of the surprises, so I present for you, the first installment of a list of people whose asses Dennis Kucinich could- and, really, has thoroughly kicked in a presidential election:

Da Vid
The Light Party
You are going to notice a theme of the religion category being a source of confusion with these candidates, as apparently strange people running for president are really into strange religions, or using way too many words to explain their religion. Vid- or should I call him Da? I'm really postulating that his name is David and he either thought his last name wasn't interesting enough or he was too paranoid to post it on Vote-Smart. Anyway, Vid lists his religion as Rosicrucian, Hermetic Qabalist. I looked these words up on Wikipedia, and as far as I can tell it's New Age for history majors. They're very into stars and mysticism and really dense concepts that I'm sure all have some ancient basis that I don't understand. Also, this thing:


And here we're think a Mormon would be hard to market.
Anyway, now that I've ripped on the poor guy's religion, let me say honestly, his organizations list is kind of astounding. Vid has been part no less than 36 nice-sounding groups, including Green Peace and Doctors Without Borders. I'm really interested in the Worldwide Forgiveness Alliance. What kind of work exactly would that entail? Forgiving people, or pressuring people to forgive other people? Forgiveness conventions?
His three presidential priorities are what really seals the deal on never becoming president for him. The first is disarming all nukes, which is admirable enough. The second is "Project Health", which appears to be universal health care with some "eco-agriculture" thrown in, nothing really extreme there. His third priority, however, is "Project Light, the catchy tag line being "All The Power That Ever Was Or Will Be Is Here Now." Got a ring to it, eh? Project Light basically aims for "a sustainable global solar hydrogen/hemp based economy". How will we acheive this? Why, "The Gaia/Solaris Consortium", of course. If this vote-smart survey was graded, the professor would write a big red please explain your answer next to this one.

Gene Amondson
Prohibition Party
Seriously, guy? You're running on prohibition? You do know how that went over the last time, right? He's not totally out of touch with the youth, though: he has a myspace. And two whole friends. Maybe he'd attract more if he had any information on the page besides his name, age, marital status and astrological sign. Why those last two specifically? Possibly... for the ladies?

Terry Lee "Tee" Barkdull
The America Party
As a blogger, I have to say about this guy: JACKPOT. The first two were easy to find, but I took a chance on this guy, as he was only listed as "Unknown". However, if you follow the trail to his website, you will see quite clearly that Tee here belongs to THE AMERICA PARTY. You will also see clearly that he loves FREEDOM, CAPSLOCK, FORMATTING and "PICTURES OF EAGLES". Can you guess what the mascot of the America Party is? Hint: It's a motherfucking eagle!
I seriously don't know where to begin with this guy- I suppose the easiest jab is at the layout- eagles, soldiers and America flags fuckin' abound. He's also a big fan of weird, unnecessary formating choices and "QUOTATIONS", even in places where they make his "argument" seem "meaningless". For example, instead of promising what he'd do as your President, he tells you what he'll do AS YOUR "PRESIDENT". Don't be fooled by the seeming lack of intelligence he displays with constant misused commas ("We, can win together!"), his complete misunderstanding of how things like disability benefits, immigration and racism (holy shit is this guy swamped in privilege- did you know the very existence of BET is racist?) work, and his typos ("I am sick of Politically Correction") that result in saying something completely different ("No free bees for immigrants!"- I'm with him on this, I mean, we are short on bees). He considers himself to be a very "INTELLIGENT" individual.
Tee is very big on speaking English. Did you know over 2/3 of the world's native language is English? Tee does. He also thinks being given the option of pressing 1 for English or 2 for Spanish is discrimination. That's right- the fact that you are even offering a language besides English is impeding Tee's rights.
He wants sex, along with race, age, and eye color to be eliminated from job applications (goodness knows how sick I am of writing out my eye color every time I apply for a job). However, the Boy Scouts are for boys, the Girl Scouts are for girls- "The way it should be!". Also, he apparently feels that "homosexuality is WRONG! It's not a phobia, it's my OPINION!!! I have the right to 'NOT' to be tolerant of others because they are different, wired or they just PISS ME OFF!!" Sure, you have the right to be intolerant- unless, whoops, you're the fucking president. I'm pretty sure he meant weird instead of wired, but it wouldn't be a big stretch to see this guy going on a tirade against cyborgs.
Man, I could go on for days about this guy. He surely spent at least a few days on his website- besides the insane amount of formatting variations, he has at least a dozen rants that just go on and fucking on. The sheer volume of his angry babblings would be commendable, if only they weren't so ignorant, repetitious and completely lacking in self-awareness. The motto that sits atop his front page, "WE THE PEOPLE. THAT MEANS ALL AMERICANS", seems to be looking down at the rest of his ranting in scorn.
Let me just end with one more quote:
"TO MANY PEOPLE DIE ON OUR NATIONS HIGHWAYS AND FREEWAYS BECAUSE OF THE AGGRESSIVE DRIVER THAT THINK THEY OWN THE ROADS, AND THE LAW DOESN'T APPLY TO THEM.
AS A NATION, THIS MUST STOP NOW. I WANT THIS CHANGE ALSO, IT'S TOO BAD, CONGRESS IS TOO PRE-OCCUPIED WITH THESE 'DEADLY SAMURAI SWORDS'"
He makes no other reference to samurai swords anywhere on the page. Tee: What "THE FUCK" are you talking about?


If people like Tee- or heck, if people like Da Vid- get you riled up, just take a deep breath now, and remember that the chance of them fulfilling their dream of becoming President is about the same as the chance of Tee knowing what "sesquipedalian" means.
Hopefully this has restored your faith in our mainstream presidential candidates as much as it did mine. I'll have two more installments, on Sunday and Tuesday- and who knows, if more people announce their candidacy, this could go on until November.

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I've Heard of Them but I Haven't Heard Them, aka an indie music post.

I'm not going to write a long review of Juno, for a lot of reasons. Someone spoiled some key scenes for me, which really took a lot out of my first viewing (I've seen it twice, and will probably see it at least once more, thank you student discount). Please, if you see a good movie, don't try to tell other people what parts made it such a good movie. You are ruining a good movie. This shit should be right after "turn off your cellphones" and "visit our concession stand". "The exits are in the front to the left, and also, don't describe the best scenes to people who would rather watch them."

I'm also not writing a long review because it's been reviewed to death, with either crazy high praise or great irritation. I think most of the irritation comes from the unbelievable sharp-tonguedness and cheesey slang packed into the first thirty minutes, which was not my favorite part of the film by far, but I accept as important to the overall arch. I've come to learn that the more witty things a character has to say in the beginning, the more meaningful does their silence become. Juno's speechlessness would not be important if she wasn't such a vocal smartass.

I'm also not writing a long review because watching it get this famous- and of course, watching the soundtrack get this famous- has been a completely bizarre experience for me, and I think that's more interesting than anything I could say about anything that happened on the screen.

I've been a fan of Kimya Dawson for three years. That's an understatement: I've been totally stupid for Kimya for three years, one month and twenty three days(ish). Now she's on The View, and in Entertainment Weekly, and it's a little freaky. I knew if Juno got wide release then KD would get some more recognition, but it's a phenomenon. It's up for an Oscar (Jennifer Garner, however, totally snubbed for best supporting actress). Kimya Dawson is number one on the charts. I've read some articles questioning just what the heck is so appealing about her. I think a lot of people don't understand the possibility of being silly and sincere at the same time- "I Will Never Forget" starts with the line I sat in the swamp with the little pink piggy who loved roller skating and playing pretend, but the song is about death, suicide and bullying. Listen to it sometime, it is one of those songs that invariably makes me cry.

This got me upset- I read someone somewhere criticizing the lines if you want to kill yourself, remember that I love you, call me up before you're dead, we can make some plans instead, send me an IM I'll be your friend, and the writer said that this is mocking of suicide or something, that this is a display that Kimya doesn't really understand the youths as much as she pretends she does. (This is also a common criticism of Juno, and a stupid one, because- duh- just because you're a middle-aged journalist or critic that knows some teens does not mean you understand all teens or the experience of teendom, and young Kimya/Juno fans would likely beg to differ.) It's really upsetting because Kimya Dawson's music changed my life, and changed a lot of lives, and probably saved a lot of lives, too. That song, Loose Lips, was the first song I ever heard from her, and call me sentimental or tell me I'm "mocking depression" or whatever, but those words made me feel like I wasn't alone. They're not empty promises, either- she really will talk to you, hug you, play a show at your house- being a Kimya fan is being a friend of Kimya, which is why her sudden fame is, to me, so bizarre. She's got millions of friends now, but they don't know that, and the media doesn't really understand that.

Anyway, that needed to get off my chest, but this was really intended to be me suggesting music to the masses, since the nation seems so strangely in tune to my sensibilities at the moment. Sort of. While it's totally outside my scope that people don't like Kimya's lyrics, I can understand not liking the lo-fi folk-punk aesthetic. (I can also understand being in love with it, because I am.) Since KD is so darned famous, my suggestions are in "You like Kimya Dawson, but you don't get..." format. Or maybe it should be "You don't really get Kimya, but you do like..." Oh well, here goes.

If you like Kimya Dawson's folky-punky sound and rapid-fire lyrics but wish the sound was a little more polished and the lyrics a little less cryptic, you might like:

Jeffrey Lewis.
Check out the "I spooned Kiyma Dawson" hat around 57 seconds in. Jeff and Kimya have collaborated, which produced one of my favorite songs ever, "A Common Chorus". He's really brilliant, and not in an overused brilliant-is-the-new-awesome kind of way.

If you like Kimya Dawson's absurdness and the lo-fi vibe, but wish it was less cutesy and folksy (or, if you like The Moldy Peaches but not Kimya Dawson) you might like:

Adam Green.
He was the other major component of The Moldy Peaches, and now has a solo career also. I prefer Kimya by far far far, but if you're not the pink kitties and yellow doggies kind of person, Adam might be more your style.

If you like Kimya Dawson's delightful weirdness but would like the whole sound to be more elegant and professional (or, if you like Kimya Dawson but want to be able to find your CDs in mainstream stores), you might like:

Regina Spektor.
Ok, so everyone knows who Regina Spektor is by now. I think. I can't keep up with the kids these days. I hate the radio. However, I don't think people know she's classified as anti-folk, the genre of which Kimya Dawson is currently the poster child. Also, if you've only heard "Fidelty" and don't see the delightful weirdness I attribute to her, I advise you to delve into "Reading Time with Pickle".

If you like Kimya's quirky sweetness (or just like K Records) but want something a little more pop, you might like:

Mirah,
or:

The Blow.
I guess I automatically associate these two because I saw them play together. Oh well. I'm running out of steam, here. These are not the best recordings, obviously. They're surely worth looking into further.

If you like Kimya Dawson but wish she was like eleven or twelve people and sounded slightly more unhinged you might like (or, if you don't get Kimya, you seriously will not get):

Dufus.
I saw them play with Kimya once, and the experience was sort of amazing. It's like they create their own universe on stage. Of course, it was different people when I saw them. They morph a lot. I like to describe them as "orchestrated chaos".

If you like Kimya's... um... people she's played with, but uh... oh shit, I don't even know how to describe:

Daniel Johnston.
Just go rent The Devil and Daniel Johnston, for goodness' sake.

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Film Advertisers Seem to Be Unable to Grasp the Concept of Original Concepts

Ever since a friend rented "The Last Kiss" which was touted on back cover to be a quirky romantic comedy and turned out to be one hundred and fifteen minutes of bleak, uh- bleakness, I've been wary to not view movies based on what they advertise themselves as.

So, I'm in a quandary with the movie Teeth. It was discussed on Feministing a while back, and a friend saw it at the Williamstown Film Festival (which she covered for the school paper, you can read here). She seemed to like it a lot, and certainly the subject is interesting, so I've been anticipating a chance to see it. However, the advertising has created some confusion as to what the tone of the film is- you see, the first poster looked like this:


It's very fluffy, and our hero strikes an almost Clueless-esque pose, but without pants, of course. The writer at Feministing took issue with this, and rightly so- there is rape and castration going on, and this poster looks like an American Pie sequel- but I was at the time at least hopeful that this indicated satiric humor. I thought some humor might not only bring people out to theaters to see a movie about, you know, a vagina with teeth, but also could be useful in discussing the sad state of sexuality in the country. Abstinence clubs and purity pledges are inherently funny to me.

This afternoon I was browsing movie trailers when I saw one for Teeth, and I was obviously excited. However, my excitement faded when I see the advertising spin switched from fluffy teen movie fare to straight-up horror. Not fluffy to dark comedy (as I had hoped), not fluffy to riveting drama- there is no mistaking, if I knew nothing about this movie, I would think it was a bizarre and even tacky (every rose has its thorns? really?) low-budget thriller instead of a feminist Sundance gem. You can watch the trailer out on the official website. Also observe the black-and-red horror motif of the website itself, which seems to clash with the blue tint of all the screen shots I've seen. There is also, less importantly, poor grammar- the tag line, Every Rose Has It's Thorn, implies Every Rose Has It Is Thorn. Tsk!
Here's the new poster:


From what friends and reviews tell me, the film is an interesting (though intense) way of confronting society's fear of sexuality, particularly female sexuality, and is generally empowering. However, these ads just seem to be exploiting this fear- the quote on the film states that is an "alarming cautionary tale for men". Herein lies the problem, or at least my problem.

Why is the film suddenly about/for men? I'm sure there's something to be learned for men here, but is it comparable to Fatal Attraction, in which the female antagonist tortures a family and eventually gets killed? I don't want to spoil the ending of Teeth (though I obviously don't know all the details yet, I do know the general arch), but the answer to the conflict here is not violence, and the woman is certainly not a threat to be eliminated. She is, you know, the heroine and everything. But you wouldn't know it from the trailer- the protagonist (or at least her vagina) is made out to be the monster and her touchy-feely gyno to be one of many hapless victims (by the way, the friend that covered it stated that in a Q&A following the film, one male viewer expressed he did see the gynecologist as an innocent victim- a statement to which anyone in the audience who had ever been to an actual OB/GYN appointment scoffed).

Revolutionary idea: pitch the film about female sexuality with a complex female protagonist to women for what it is, instead of a sexy teen comedy or a tacky rehashing of an old horror story.

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I Lied, Again.

Monday-Wednesday-Friday set? That was a bit of a lie. I didn't realize I'd be visiting a college all day on Friday, and working at church camp all weekend. I've been so busy, just be thankful I can still form coherent sentences.

I do have treats for you, my pretties. If college fails to provide inspiration to my mind or spirit, it will at least surely inspire my blogging material.



I caught this mess during the three-hour ride. You can just see the corner of the giant tipi to the left. We passed at least three Native American (specifically Mohawk, I think) themed souveneir stores, but this was the most outrageous. I had to wonder if there was actually a solid Mohawk population around, if they were involved with these shops, or if other people were just exploiting the fact that, you know, "Native Americans used to live sort of nearby, maybe I can sell some shoes, blankets and cheap plastic shit".

Oh, and by the way, guess what I found during spring cleaning?



Creepy.

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An Item That Falls Directly Between "Freaking Bizarre" and "Inspiring".

As you may or probably do not know, I'm a playwright. An award-winning playwright, at that. (Try to guess which one I am! Hint: I have a vagina.) I've got a fucking plaque and everything. I know I'm not a genius at it or anything- I'm definitely not one of those drama kids who say things like, "You know, my professor is simply fascinated with O'Neill, but I don't understand how she can call herself a drama lover when she says she's never cared for Beckett." I'm actually glad I haven't read a lot of classics, because I can write without worrying that I'm taking too much inspiration from other work (read: ripping off better writers). My first play was about lobsters, my second was about mimes, and currently I'm writing a carthatic piece about the college process. I'd just gotten to thinking I'm good at it this sort of thing, when I stumbled upon a piece that makes me ashamed of my lack of creativity. It's not Beckett, it's not O'Neill, it's not even Wilde- whose fandom I would belong to, if more 19th century writers had fandoms- it's this.


A Very Merry Unauthorized Children's Scientology Pagaent.

I haven't seen it, I haven't (yet) heard the soundtrack, I haven't read the articles in New York Times or The Village Voice. By the way, why am I only hearing about this now? It's apparently been around for years, and my so-called "friends" never thought mention it to me?
No, I have only gazed upon the website- which I initially thought to be a really cool hoax. When I realized it was legit, just reading the title of the play caused me to utter that phrade that tears at every artist's heart: "Why didn't I think of that?"



In costumes slightly resembling The Polyphonic Spree's robes (creating some kind of meeting of the bizarrely brilliant), children- God bless them, children play L. Ron Hubbard, Tom Cruise, John Travolta, and, of course, the great Xenu (pictured above, in more Conehead-esque garb). They sing songs such as "Hey! It's a Happy Day!" and "Mister Auditor". Who doesn't love a musical? Well, probably not actual Scientologists.

An unwanted but obligatory rant about scientology itself: I try to be open-minded about Scientology. It would probably be much easier if they ever tried telling anyone what they actually do. Seriously, scientologists. First of all, thank you for visiting my blog. Tell your friends. Secondly, I know being all secret and exclusive is your "thing", but you're hurting the cause. Your founder, the guy who wrote Battlefield Earth, simply looks shady. I don't know if The Simpsons modeled the Leader in their cult epsiode after L. Ron or if it was just a happy coincidence because he looks like a cult leader. I'm afraid famous people keep defending scientology because they can afford it. I know Christians pass around a collection plate, but there's not a thousand-dollar tab on baptism and confessional. We will stop treating you like a cult when you stop acting so damn culty. When one of your famous members jokes about eating his baby's placenta and people automatically believe it- it's time for a change.
Really, Scientologists, this pagaent is probably the most positive cultural reference you're going to get. Start letting your kids put it on around Christmas or L. Ron Hubbard Day or what have you. Everyone likes kids. They're adorable.

By the way, the one image that qualified this play for Bizarre Week:



Nothing more fantastically creepy than emotionless twins in rainbow socks and a giant brain costume.

I love it.

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Freaking Bizzare Dead Thing. Warning: Pictures.

Personal life issues are slowly settling down, so hopefully I'll be back to semi-regular updates. That is, until summer hits, at which point I'll be away five days a week to work with brats lovely children at that God camp I've mentioned. I am at this point praying that Project Runway doesn't launch a new season in the middle of the summer, as I have heard they're rushing to start season three. Oh well, at least I hope I'll have interesting stories on the weekend. As for now....

It's been occuring to me that, while definitely a bit fruity, my blog is not as totally bizarre as it could be. Look at my subtitle- shouldn't I be blogging about robots or leprachauns or robot leprachauns or something particularly out of the ordinary?
It turns out it's pretty hard to find inspiring topics to write about several times a week. But, I think I've gathered up enough material for at least a Monday-Wednesday-Friday set, and so I announce this week to be
FREAKIN' BIZZARE WEEK.

Let's start with what I did on Easter. While my hippie, vegetarian, antique-collecting aunt and uncle's giant, museum-like house where horses occasionally run through the back yard might be bizarre to some people, that's just one piece of the puzzle that is my upbringing. What really freaked me out this weekend was stumbled upon at a nearby beach.
I've seen horseshoe crabs, regular crabs and shellfish in general washed ashore plenty of times. I live in the ocean state. These things happen. However, Sunday afternoon, my uncle took my brother and I to a lesser-known local beach, where we witnessed what we initially guessed was a dead seal.

Now, maybe I should, but I do not know how to make cuts, jumps, or in any case, post a picture without you seeing it right away. Do I provide a wimpy link? Of course not, friends, I improvise. Here is a preview of a picture that I took of the thing, the gross bits tastefully blocked out by something slightly nicer to look at.



On closer inspection, we decided it was a shark. The problem being, we live in Rhode Island. You know how many sharks are around Rhode Island? Neither do I. I don't know because nobody cares, because there are so few sharks around Rhode Island that it isn't worth caring about unless you're a shark enthusiast, a title which I vehemently deny.
It's also only mid-April. Do you know how many sharks are around in mid-April, in Rhode Island? The answer, by all human logic, should be "none, silly!"
It was also pretty far up the beach. I would like to know the mathmetic probability of a shark washing ashore and dying, in mid-April, in Rhode Island. Someone get back to me on that.

Our third guess was that it was a porpoise of some kind, of course, that entails all of the problems with the idea that it's a shark. I described it to the boy, and he suggested that it could be a barracuda, but I find the wreckage hardly barracuda-esque.

WARNING: I am going to post the pictures now.

Seriously.

They're a little bit gross.

Stop scrolling if you're the squeamish type.

Exposed ribcage and everything, don't you know.

It's gross.

For real.

Here come the pictures.

Of the decaying animal carcass.

...

Ta-da.







Freaking bizzare, eh?

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True Story!

There's a story that I'm pretty sure I have to share with the world. But there's a problem: I'm a webcomic geek. Hardcore. Every day I check two email accounts, one personal journal, one or two social network sites, three or four blogs, and eight to ten webcomics. I could try to defend my habit, but I'd just be securing my spot on the Geek Hierarchy: "It's not, like, the funny papers or superhero comics. Webcomics are, like, art SLASH comedy."
I run a blog and not a webcomic for lack of artistic talent and patience. I could always go the Ryan North route, but that would be ripping off Ryan North. I write well, but some stories I just feel would be best conveyed in pictures. Such as this story, that I am pretty sure I need to tell you. It will be slightly amusing to read, but it would be much more affecting to see. I would make a half-assed series of illustrations, but my scanner is permanently busted. Thus, I present to you, the first of possibly many True Stories, as accompanied with beautiful MSPaint illustrations.


I couldn't have been working in my restaurant more than three weeks when this happened. I had a few tables, all served and happily eating, so I was hanging out by the cash register when a voice from the take-out area beckoned to me. I turned around and see a very, very short man with a shining bald head, a curly red beard, great round glasses and business attire. If hobbits hired accountants, this would be their man. Now, I'm not saying he's a loser because he was short and bald and sported a curly beard. There are definitely very awesome, short, stout, bald, bearded people. I just needed you to create a mental picture to combine with his further inward creepiness, thus you get the full idea of the great weirdness of this encounter. This man said to me:



He was referring to the sign between the cash register and the take-out window that reads "WE DO NOT ACCEPT CHECKS!" Not completely understanding why we didn't accept checks, but obviously knowing there was a reason, I just shrugged. Then, he asked if he could hang up some flyers. He was, he informed me, a DJ. Yes, this hobbit-man made a living playing music at parties. I know a DJ. I think old guys who own a bunch of speakers and switch CDS for two hours should be called something else. Like "expensive fleshy jukeboxes".
Anyway, he hands me some of his flyers, which are a bit hideous because he used tiled dollar bills in the background. He made sure he pointed them out to me. He sure was proud of those flyers. "Only two-hundred dollars!" He insisted. "That's very cheap!" I nodded in vauge agreement, but I was distracted. In the corner of his flyer, there was a stamp that had nothing to do with disk jockeying.



No matter what you opinion about abortion is, if I know it within ten seconds of meeting you, you are probably an asshole. I told this story to the boy and he cried, "Why didn't you call him out on being ridiculously forward?" Well, I couldn't really call him out on that or, you know, not having a vagina in front of my other customers. Being paid below minimum wage and making half your salary on based on a stranger's opinion of you has its down side. Oh well. Maybe he was actually just a fan of WHAM?
He gave me his card, which was also graced with the Seal of Making Me Uncomfortable. Seriously, how much time did he have on his hands to stamp all of these flyers and cards? Was that part of his pitch? "I shouldn't just be a cheap middle-aged DJ. I should be a cheap middle-aged DJ that preaches pro-life. I'll have to keep the customers off me with a picket sign!"
He shook my hand. He stopped, and he smiled at me. Not in a friendly way. You know what I'm saying. He said, exactly:



He pointed to his ring to prove it, thanked me, and left. Even after he gave me the old creepy eyes, I didn't have the heart to throw out this odd little man's flyers, so I gave them to the boss's son.
He threw them out for me.
True story.

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