Jeanette Cazden’s Emails

I’m starting to think Jeanette isn’t shooting me straight. The last thing I want to be is cynical and I’m certainly no private investigator, but my instincts are pointing towards foul play. I'm afraid the poor girl has gotten herself mixed up in some sort of spam consortium. My first clue was from taking a good look at the subject line in one of her emails: Don'TbbeStupiiddToMissTheChanceTooBuuyBestEerectetileDyssfunctionDrruggAttHhalfPricc.
I don’t want to be stupid, I love great deals and I have a friend who suffers from that particular ailment. It wouldn’t be for me. The candy is dandy down there if you catch my drift and I think you do. Needless to say, I wanted to believe in this young go-getter from Bloomington, Illinois or wherever she’s from. Sure, she’s not great with spelling or punctuation, but she had spunk. And sometimes that’s all that matters. But the more I think about it, the more I’m convinced she’s just a common web grifter looking to turn a quick buck. I don’t think I’m going to give this one a shot. That link she sent will have to go unclicked. As the saying goes, fool me six times…

Seat Heat

There’s not much worse than sitting in a bus seat and feeling the warmth of the stranger before you. It’s not just body heat, it’s booty heat. You can almost taste the heebie-jeebies. It doesn’t matter if the source is a hobo or a real person, it’s a big can of crummy either way. I’d even argue there’s a metaphysical angle to all this. It’s the emanation from all the person’s crushed hopes and dreams and daily frustrations. And who has those more than bus people? Perhaps the worst part is, when you get in really close, it smells like sadness.

Rolling computer bags

You best be going somewhere on a plane if there’s a bag rolling behind you, that’s all I’m saying. Actually, that’s not all I’m saying. I’m a big fan of laziness, but this is taking it too far. Strap that thing on your shoulder and get your ass to that meeting. You have a carefully thought-out and flawlessly executed PowerPoint presentation to walk people through. This is the Mt. Everest of laziness. If laziness were a no-nonsense, chain-smoking xenobotanist with a heart of gold, rolling computer bags would be Dr. Grace Augustine. If laziness were quintessential jazz recordings, they would be A Love Supreme by John Coltrane. If laziness were gratuitous jazz references, they would be that last sentence. If laziness were amazing analogists, rolling computer bags would be me. Just because you have hot legs and know a magic pathway into the sea of love is no excuse. Stop being a douche-bag. Wait, that’s it. The rolling computer bag is literally a douche-bag. Perfect. Pass it on.

Native American views on picture taking

Selfish, selfish, selfish. They are a beautiful people. But very selfish. I have a special spot in my loft that’s screaming for a little Navajo mojo. Do you know how much chicks would eat that up? Not to mention the nook in my bathroom that's in desperate need of a 10x10 black and white of someone deep, brooding and in touch with the natural world. There’s something about an intense stare the really helps me rock out a deuce. It’s about focusing and letting go at the same time. That, and respect. It’s mostly about respect. And bran muffins. It’s about focusing, letting go, respect and bran muffins. Listen, photos don’t steal your soul just like dream catchers don’t catch your dreams. I found that out long ago when I dreamed of getting adopted by a decent family. Looks like that one slipped through the net, hey? Well who needs you, Native Americans? Not me. Who just got a 2003 Mazda 6 all by himself? I did. That's right. I don’t need anyone. All I really need right now is a moment to collect myself.

"It's all good"

Because it's not. Incest, tsunamis, Pearl Jam’s new stuff, warts, prune juice. That’s a quick hit of five not all good things right there. I’d buy it more if the expression were "It’s All Bad," but that’s not half-full thinking which isn’t my style. It’s an especially bitter pill to swallow when anyone over 40 uses it. “Do you have a Malbec? No? It’s all good, I’ll just have the Cab…” I will fight you, bro. The exception here would be if your weed dealer says it after you tell her you only have $43. Then it’s kinda nice. Yeah, my weed dealer is a lady. Don’t assume anything in this life. I’m all for trying to stay relevant, but this expression is not the answer. Toss on a seersucker suit and walk around saying stuff like, “now that’s the gravy boat.” Keep the kids guessing. They’re dumb. They’ll eat it up.

Hipster Smediums

When did they decide to make large t-shirts fit like wet suits? Nothing’s ever right with these things. That innocent PBR pooch ceases to be your little secret and the sleeves generate an instant, horrifying pit swamp. You have to basically stop wearing nipple rings. Not only that, the designs are always huge and stupid and ironically off-center. The whole scenario is starting to cramp my strict policy of not working out. So, in the spirit of brotherhood, I’ve created this conversion chart. S = Toy Dogs. M = Newborns. L = Kindergartners. XL = Crackheads. XXL = Normal folks. XXXL = Slightly chubby. XXXXL = Small football players.

Telling me about your favorite architect

99% of time someone refers to their favorite architect they’re talking about the one architect they know about. And they’ve only known about this person for two days. This always leads to some other blowbag bringing up that socialist Ayn Rand. From there, the monsoon of bullshit flows so hard you have to hotfoot it over to a monster truck rally just to recalibrate. We all want to know more about architecture. It’s the crown jewel of party conversation, but get over it. You’ve got passwords, Angry Birds, phone numbers, account numbers and Hermione’s rapidly developing body to think about. It’s okay. You’re smart. Really. You are. By the way, my favorite architect is Jean Nouvel. His unconventional buildings suggest the flamboyance of a painter. He takes cues from the environment with a particular emphasis on light and shadow. To me, his works demonstrates persistence, imagination, exuberance, and above all, an insatiable urge for creative experimentation.