ABC, Easy As Php
I upgraded some stuff to php5. If you find any problems on jpmullan.com, please let me know. Gracias.
If I Shake My Trousers Down
A week or so ago they were showing “The Magnificent Seven” in Stevens Square Park, but the real show was before hand while they held a karaoke contest. The singers were, uh, well, let’s just say that the small amount of gin and tonic that Alex and I were splitting was not quite enough to dull the caterwauling howl of a man covering Cher’s “If I Could Turn Back Time.” It was bad to the point of surrealism: a practical joke gone horribly awry. At any moment I honestly expected flash pots to go off while the man pulled off a mask to reveal actual Cher underneath, at which point we would be treated to a spectacular, if unexpected and truly unasked-for rendition of the collected works of Cher.
Now, at this point you might say to yourself that I have entered a fairly amusing description of bad karaoke. Everyone has experienced bad karaoke, so, uh, so what? Well, I’ll tell you so what: trannies what.
Me, I Want A Hula Hoop
Zach tells me all the time that slowing down the Chipmunks is an experience, so, when the chance came up to simply click and hear, I did.
You know what, give me that thing: I’ll do one.
FILL IT UP AGAIN! It’s so good! Once it hits your lips, it’s SO GOOD!
Sunday Bloody Sunday
Holy crap I forgot to drink coffee for two days. Maybe three. I’m not sure what day it is any more.
I just sent a terrifying email to one of my photographic subjects from Pride asking for a more formal shoot. Gah! I don’t think that I cracked wise even once. This is why I need to pour coffee into myself nonstop: so I am never “off.” There are characters that I play (like the one who writes these posts) and at least one of them must always be active or… I dunno. Something. Something bad, I think.
International Jesse Day
I’m quite excited that work is letting me celebrate “International Jesse Day” tomorrow. Traditionally celebrated on the last available day before “personal holidays” expire, International Jesse Day starts with a ritual “sleeping of in” and is followed by the “running of errands” and the “consideration of the possibility of calling unemployed friends for the doing of stuff,” and “attending of parties.” These are all excellent traditions worthy of being maintained.
Not the One with Kevin Spacey
Tonight they are showing “The Magnificent Seven” in Steven’s Square Park. This is the one with the gunfighters, not the one with the samurai. I expect high quality awesomeness.
Feelin’ Hot Hot Hot
Yesterday I biked over to my therapist’s office through a mire of stagnant air and climbed the flight of stairs into his darkened waiting room. He wasn’t there — the boombox that normally trickled out classical music was silent. I checked my appointment card, I called and I waited. The thermos in the waiting room was out of water, and only the ice cream truck crawling by outside marked the passing of time. One bar of music accompanied the ripple of reflected light across the ceiling.
Jamba Crack Cocaine
This morning I checked my “mailbox” at “work” and found that my boss’s boss’s boss had signed off on my “Regent’s Scholarship.” More importantly, there was a coupon for a free Jamba Juice. I already knew that their smoothies were some sort of blender candy, but their “Chocolate Moo’d” smoothie tastes exactly like Reese’s Pieces. I think that I am going to “die.”
AIR QUOTES EXPLOSION!
Dognapping
I finally met my next door neighbor, Hailey, who is stealing — I mean borrowing my wifi connection. There’s nothing like meeting new people while drenched in sweat. Speaking of new people, I stopped by the One on One Bicycle Studio to ask about fender painting for John and bike upgrades for me — not that I can afford them, but a boy can dream…
Also, I think that I might have met Roger Lootine. I was a little shaky from the heat (and trying to outrun a truck after finding myself in the wrong lane… result: not dead) so I didn’t introduce myself, even though he thought I was “Pete.” He may also have been picking up a lady, which is the best possible imagining I could have. I hope he did well.
Do Androids Dream of Electric Balls?
One of my coworkers strolled into the web office this morning to make a loud proclamation.
“I had the weirdest dream about you last night!”