Saturday, November 30, 2002

Stick To It 11.30.02

My fingers hurt. The 50,600 words are posted to the NaNoWriMo site (you can read what I have put up, more to come), which is not to say that the novel is anywhere near done. But I wanted to say hello again, and get acquainted with the Pico blog, this method of daily postings. My throat hurts. USC is kicking the living crap out of Notre Dame. I could have guessed that.

For last night, where eight people sat in the back of a bar filled with hip hop and cool people posing at one another, and undid the cool with fart talk and oral sex talk at top volume. For that, and for one specific conversation, I would like to post this-- "you can fuck my body baby. But don't fuck my mind," -the Afghan Whigs, "Neglekted."

Man, I have been writing some lunatic crap in this blog. I almost feel the need to apologize. I will apologize with poorly thunked out and manic slices of daily pie, translated into electronic wording. No more of this, the Nets are laying the smack down on the Blazers, and I need to call Pavel in Cali.

Monday, November 18, 2002

Coxswains at Night 11.17.02

Interesting. I seem to have run out of words, in a sense. I am thinking much of things like essay writing and my novel, but I have an inability to fill this blog with words.

I attribute this to a sudden realization that, since I do not see people-- grad-school people don't count, I don't know them so well, we're in the same sinking boat and I think they would be a little more skittish if I was the... ah... goofier part of myself. The more manic part.

Before going back to how I do not see people, I want to talk about the urge to talk shit, curse excessively, and lie to people for fun. These are generally considered antisocial traits-- I don't know why, they've made me acquaintances for many years!!!! But friday was the first day of presentations for my Managing Public Service organizations class. Two groups presented. Neither of them had me in it. So I was a mellow fellow, this Pico, so chill I should have been playing Coleco.

Other people were not. Take, for example, a little person with the last name "Tiger." I shit you not. What a hot last name to have. Think of that-- Pico Dulce Tiger. What a name that would be.

Anyway, ten minutes before class starts, I know I need some caffeine. I run into classmate Dara. I have the urge to call her "the sweetest thing." I think she thinks I am funny but mysemi-sarcasm probably pushes it. If there's one thing you learn from a management class, it's that it is a good thing to have allies. She'll count for now.

So we walk outside into the wind and it's a pretty day, the kind of day that gets Pico's blood flowing and his heart racing and his brain a-thinking mischief. Pico sees Ms. Tiger walking up, a little worried and hurried. Obviously, she is worried about class and is all the more confused when she sees two of her classmates (yours truly and Dara) walking in the opposite direction of class-- we were in search of coffee and a newspaper. And he thinks, such a young person should not wear the worries of the world on her face, for it is only class! I shall amuse her with misdirection and wit!

Lacking a top hat, handkerchief, doves, or gloves, I used my mouth and told her straight-faced that class was cancelled.

I think I saw her heart stop momentarily.

Oh, she laughed, but she was totally like hella super freaked y'all. O-mi-Gawd!

I thought perhaps it was just her; but Dara thought it was funny on the risque side and when I told the Noemi next to me, she whispered that I was mean. Sigh. What can ya do? This is the essence of my sense of comedy.

Cruelty.

I will sob myself to sleep and get back to work in the morning; from South Illadelph to my bedroom shelf, this is Pico signing off.

Friday, November 15, 2002

11.15.02

Best phrase for the male genetalia-- "junk." As in "I don't need to see your junk on the first date." Courtesy of Shipmates. I should go out in the daytime.
11.15.02

I am dedicated to swimming. But it makes me tired, so when I say "swimmin'" I think of the classic Puff Daddy tune All About the Benjamins. What's the line that leads up to 5 + 5, something milleniums?

Here we go:

Now... what y'all wanna do?
Wanna be ballers? Shot-callers?
Brawlers -- who be dippin in the Benz wit the spoilers
On the low from the Jake in the Taurus
Tryin to get my hands on some Grants like Horace
Yeah livin the raw deal, three course meals
Spaghetti, fettucini, and veal
But still, everything's real in the field
And what you can't have now, leave in your will
But don't knock me for tryin to bury
seven zeros, over in Rio Dijanery
Ain't nobody's hero, but I wanna be heard
on your Hot 9-7 everyday, that's my word
Swimmin in women wit they own condominiums
Five plus Fives, who drive Millineums
It's all about the Benjamins, what?


From RealLyrics. I need to stop swimming, too. but he said "Grants like Horace! Rio Dijanery!!" Bwah-hah-hah-ha!!

Tuesday, November 12, 2002

11.11.02

I seem to have become some kind of hipster wanna be. Like any good hipster, I am inspired to write my novel listening to the Strokes and Capone & Noreaga. I need some help.

Tuesday, November 05, 2002

From the Rice-A-Homie In Response - Have You Voted Yet? 11.05.02

Dinosaur hunters everywhere, unite!
This is Shoulder Logan, renowned Paleolithic Predator and Menace of the
Mesozoic. I am in search of a few intrepid travellers to join me on my next
foray into the ancient lands, little experience necessary, though it would
be helpful if you had some skill in the following fields:
* Gatling/Chain-gun operation
* Air-to-Ground missile targeting systems programming
* Beef Jerky cookery
* Panama Hat Millinery
* Carabiner forging
* A rope skills merit badge
* Excellent command of facial muscles such that a cool looking grimace of
resolve can be realized in the face of massive,
stampeding thunder lizards
* Most importantly, you need to be in good enough shape to make a loincloth
look as natty as your sunday best!
That's really all for now. You can contact me for further details with a
simple reply. Only those with true grit need apply.
Manfully,
Shoulder Logan
Dinosaur Slayer
Junk? 11.05.02 - Go Vote It's Election Day!!

Received in my inbox (thanks, hotmale!)

Hello,
If you are a Time Traveler I am going to need the following:

1. A modified mind warping Dimensional Warp Generator # 52 4350a series
wrist watch with memory adapter.

2. Reliable carbon based, or silicon based time transducing capacitor.

I need a reliable source!! Please only reply if you are reliable. Send a
(SEPARATE) email to me at:xxxxxx- not real address@aol.com

Monday, November 04, 2002

Fans of the Bungles!! 11.04.02

The football world spun all kinds of funny this week-- the Jets a/k/a the NY Jest whooped up on somebody. And the Cincinatti Bengals won! In fact, they done whooped up on somebody too!!!!

Read the above link, including this example of lowered expectations:

Special teams, B: There were no glaring errors, and JoJuan Armour blocked a field-goal attempt by Kris Brown - a first for the Bengals in three seasons. T.J. Houshmandzadeh had the team's longest punt return of the season, 11 yards, and actually ran up to fair-catch a punt instead of letting it roll.

and if you're bored, I have added 2000 words of novel for your reading pleasure.
No You Di'nt 11.04.02

The worst thing I heard this weekend. While not wearing my costume, and at a party with the big G, a fellow was trying to figure out what my costume was. After he joked about being an out of work basketball player (or something) he then decided that my costume was of John Lee Malvo.

Nice.

He repeated this one later. I told him that really wasn't what I was going for, nor was it funny.

Back to homework and writing.