Go To Sleep You Little Baby

The clock in my computer is telling me in no uncertain terms that it is officially now Wednesday. If you aren’t aware, Wednesdays are the days when SSCO shows movies in Stevens Square Park. That’s today, so if you would like to see “O Brother Where Art Thou,” show up around dusk. Last night (yestertoday? did I make up that word already?) Sarah helped me clean my apartment because some of our friends will be here slightly in advance of the showing. Apparently not you, because I have TRIED to tell you that they show these films and STILL your complaint is “I don’t want to be accidentally or purposefully shot while watching a movie in the park.” So far no one has been shot, so I don’t want to hear any more of your whining.

July 11th: O Brother, Where Art Thou?
July 18th: Goonies
July 25th: Ghostbusters
August 1st: On the Waterfront

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ABC, Easy As Php

I upgraded some stuff to php5. If you find any problems on jpmullan.com, please let me know. Gracias.

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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.

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Fif. Teen Thousand Megabytes

That sounds like a lot of data, but it is the output of June’s shooting. I am absolutely drowning in pictures. My photo drive went from “okay” to “full” in like a week.

First, Sarah documented Team “Mother Friendly” Kickass kicking ASS.
Team Kickass

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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!

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I See You Peeking

Okay, so I have a photo assignment that involves shooting portraits of strangers, people I know, and my self. I’m fairly sure that I have lined up myself for a reasonable amount of time, but the other two are still kind of tentative. You, and I mean you, the one reading this blog, have a unique opportunity to have me turn one or more of my lenses in your direction and catch all your best sides, which are all of them, because I’ve seen you and decided that you’re quite all right to look at. Obviously for the time being this only applies to people in the Twin Cities metro area, since my ability to travel is limited.

Me first, because I should show that I’m fearless. I’m awful tired.
jm_20d_45030.JPG

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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.

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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.
International Jesse Day

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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.

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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.

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