Justin Timberlake claims to be bringing 'sexy' back. i wish someone had told me it was missing. i've had it at my house the whole time. i think someone left it here after last year's Christmas party. i didn't know he needed it.
You just had to call man. You didn't need to write a song about it. Isn't that a little passive-aggressive?
Aug 31, 2006
Bad Medicine... Cabinet
It took a piece of furniture to knock the fight out of me.
i have very strong ideals. i respect other people's opinions but am uncompromising in how i live my life. i believe people should be treated with respect and am willing to defend those who can't defend themselves. i support my words with action. i am not physically intimidated despite my trim frame. In my olde age (well it feels old to me) i have improved my intellectual sparring and sarcasm to get my point across while alleviating potential physical alterations.
In adulthood fighting can get one into some pretty serious secondary problems. Nobody really wants to spend any time in jail. Criminal records are a difficult brand you carry with you for the rest of your life. Worst of all, despite the intent of injuring your opponent, the possibility that one could permanently cripple or even accidentally kill someone in a fistfight is quite a scary contemplation. i am not sure i could live with that kind of an outcome.
Despite my reasoning and knowing better, every so often i get my irish up. Frustrated with life's situations, sometimes getting physical seems like an appealing option. Youthful memories of throwing righteous fists and standing (sometimes scraped and bloody) for what you believe is right can become romantisized as the years pass.
Regular bruises and injuries from skateboarding and home improvements can teach you lessons about yourself. The pain reminds you that you are alive. The pain can make you feel physically confident. Combine this with the previous paragraph's tendencies and a pugilist is just bubbling under the surface.
The other day while putting the finishing touches on a 1/2 bath i've been adding to the house it came time to hang the fancy-dancy medicine cabinet my significant other picked out. It has an original hanging set-up that requires multiple steps. In between two of the steps the cabinet's door swung open forcing the top to pivot down with some speed. Lightning quick reflexes from years of skateboarding presented one of two options: a) let it swing down and smack you in the face... OR ... b) put your head down and take it like a man on the crown of your head. In that fraction of a second the latter seemed the logical choice (i didn't want my nose to to become even more crooked than it already is now after all).
After spending some time last night holding ice on my dome, walking around today with an egg on my head (shaved heads don't hide cranial trauma well), and having the rush of blood to the head from leaning over bring swelling pain in an instant, i am reminded that getting hit in the head SUCKS. Really.
Not that i'd be steppin' to pieces of wood, but the likelihood of taking one on the noggin' during a fight is pretty high. Any inclinations towards fighting have been successfully exorcised (for the time being). Even Tyler Durden realized the fighting needed to stop. Bitch slapped by a piece of furniture.
i have very strong ideals. i respect other people's opinions but am uncompromising in how i live my life. i believe people should be treated with respect and am willing to defend those who can't defend themselves. i support my words with action. i am not physically intimidated despite my trim frame. In my olde age (well it feels old to me) i have improved my intellectual sparring and sarcasm to get my point across while alleviating potential physical alterations.
In adulthood fighting can get one into some pretty serious secondary problems. Nobody really wants to spend any time in jail. Criminal records are a difficult brand you carry with you for the rest of your life. Worst of all, despite the intent of injuring your opponent, the possibility that one could permanently cripple or even accidentally kill someone in a fistfight is quite a scary contemplation. i am not sure i could live with that kind of an outcome.
Despite my reasoning and knowing better, every so often i get my irish up. Frustrated with life's situations, sometimes getting physical seems like an appealing option. Youthful memories of throwing righteous fists and standing (sometimes scraped and bloody) for what you believe is right can become romantisized as the years pass.
Regular bruises and injuries from skateboarding and home improvements can teach you lessons about yourself. The pain reminds you that you are alive. The pain can make you feel physically confident. Combine this with the previous paragraph's tendencies and a pugilist is just bubbling under the surface.
The other day while putting the finishing touches on a 1/2 bath i've been adding to the house it came time to hang the fancy-dancy medicine cabinet my significant other picked out. It has an original hanging set-up that requires multiple steps. In between two of the steps the cabinet's door swung open forcing the top to pivot down with some speed. Lightning quick reflexes from years of skateboarding presented one of two options: a) let it swing down and smack you in the face... OR ... b) put your head down and take it like a man on the crown of your head. In that fraction of a second the latter seemed the logical choice (i didn't want my nose to to become even more crooked than it already is now after all).
After spending some time last night holding ice on my dome, walking around today with an egg on my head (shaved heads don't hide cranial trauma well), and having the rush of blood to the head from leaning over bring swelling pain in an instant, i am reminded that getting hit in the head SUCKS. Really.
Not that i'd be steppin' to pieces of wood, but the likelihood of taking one on the noggin' during a fight is pretty high. Any inclinations towards fighting have been successfully exorcised (for the time being). Even Tyler Durden realized the fighting needed to stop. Bitch slapped by a piece of furniture.
Aug 30, 2006
Aug 29, 2006
That Wasn't Not Funny
As you get older the meanings and effects movies have on you can change. Exemplar: Rambo came out on video cassette when i was in the 5th grade. One guy taking on an entire army and blowing shit up was quite impressive for a testosterone fueled little boy. i recently saw part of it the other day and it played out more like a comedy. With time and many comic impersonations i forgot that Sly actually DID talk like that. (i still think i could hold off an army from the 80's in the woods if i had a knife like that though)
Go to any Pixar movie with a crowd of mixed age and you will hear the children laughing at one part and the adults laughing at another all together. Two different movies in one, depending on age.
Last night, reading "A People's History Of The United States" with the TV on in the background i realized that "The Money Pit" is not a comedy... it's actually a really, really mean documentary. Since buying a house i could afford and fixing it up over the last few years (not done yet) Tom Hank's comedic antics serve as salt poured into still open wounds.
Everything will be done in 'two weeks'. Fixing one problem only brings attention to four more you hadn't noticed earlier. You constantly feel like you're living in a construction site (because to some extent you are). A pile of demo is lying where you'd like to park your car. Contractor's schedule dictate your schedule, otherwise it may be months before they can make it out again.
Oh yeah, and you have to pay for it all. A friend coined the term: being house po', you're so poor you can't afford the last "o-r". You own a house so you're not technically poor but because you own a house you have no money for anything else. All money seems to go into making the home more livable seeing how you couldn't afford one in pristine condition.
Because of this, the movie "The Money Pit" ceases to be a comedy for me and should be moved to the Horror section of Netflix. i had nightmares from that shit. It makes "The Ring" look like amateur night at the local strip club (just a little scarey).
Go to any Pixar movie with a crowd of mixed age and you will hear the children laughing at one part and the adults laughing at another all together. Two different movies in one, depending on age.
Last night, reading "A People's History Of The United States" with the TV on in the background i realized that "The Money Pit" is not a comedy... it's actually a really, really mean documentary. Since buying a house i could afford and fixing it up over the last few years (not done yet) Tom Hank's comedic antics serve as salt poured into still open wounds.
Everything will be done in 'two weeks'. Fixing one problem only brings attention to four more you hadn't noticed earlier. You constantly feel like you're living in a construction site (because to some extent you are). A pile of demo is lying where you'd like to park your car. Contractor's schedule dictate your schedule, otherwise it may be months before they can make it out again.
Oh yeah, and you have to pay for it all. A friend coined the term: being house po', you're so poor you can't afford the last "o-r". You own a house so you're not technically poor but because you own a house you have no money for anything else. All money seems to go into making the home more livable seeing how you couldn't afford one in pristine condition.
Because of this, the movie "The Money Pit" ceases to be a comedy for me and should be moved to the Horror section of Netflix. i had nightmares from that shit. It makes "The Ring" look like amateur night at the local strip club (just a little scarey).
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