The Week in H-Town-dizzle

Table of Contents

Tue, Jan 19 – Blue Eyes
Blue eyes, the mesmerizing iridescence that makes me feel like Forrest Gump, pre-Jenny days (i.e. in leg braces). An exposition of the development of my weakness.
‘But alas, blue eyes are recessive, and unless I have some French blood in me from when France raped Vietnam in the mid-20 century (instead of cab-fare, they gave us French bread and pate), my kids are condemned to having earthy-colored eyes.’

Wed, Jan 20 – Cash, the Modern English Monarch
An airline stops taking cash for formerly included amenities. A review of the fine print on the American greenback.
‘So unfortunately, the airline is within its legal right to refuse to take your cold, hard cash in exchange for its similarly cold, hard pillow.’

Thu, Jan 21 – Heidi’s Boob-napping
Topics: Heidi Montag, Heidi’s new kids, TMZ, police discrimination, Texas > Cali, and a joke about Tiger Woods (he’s black after all!)
‘The Boss Man stands behind the cubicles spying over his minions and drinks out of the same thermos with what I hope are different straws each show’

Fri, Jan 22 – Punked! (TV Edition)
Mama puts my widescreen HD TV to shame.
‘The plastic film protecting the glass-like frame around the screen was still attached, and my antenna from the TV in my old room had miraculously migrated to the TV stand underneath the new member of our family. Traitor.’

Sat, Jan 23 – Hotdogs and Eggs
The emancipation from ground-up, unidentified pieces of ‘protein.’
‘It is ironic how home cooking means hotdogs and eggs while traditional Viet food can only be found at the local eatery.’

Sun, Jan 24 – SPIDER: Pool and Poker
My two dream careers which are even more far-fetched than my becoming a ‘writer.’
‘The side pocket ‘t*tty f*cked’ a couple of my balls, performed ‘rim jobs’ on a couple of others, and disappointingly ‘spit’ out a masterful bank [shot], but on the whole, the table was pretty accepting to my gentle, finesse-imbued touch.’

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Unsubstantiated claims

This past week’s entries were spent recounting some of the tales from my last trip back to Houston. There are a couple stories about Ra Sushi on Westheimer inside the loop which will be released later this week.

The cold weather took a vacation in the tropics, and a week of 70 highs and 50 lows were quite welcome after a monstrous few weeks with near freezing temps. I also didn’t have to fuss with the gremlin-infested heater.

The electric bill was almost $100. Vaulted, cathedral-like ceilings = cool. Bill for resulting poor insulation = not cool.

I had been hung up on ‘Blue Eyes’ for a good week and a half until I had a ‘very friendly’ conversation with one of the regular customers in her early 30s. As the saying goes, there are plenty of fish (and cougars) in the sea.

My Citizen Eco-Drive watch (sub-$100) came in the mail. Eco-drive’s slogan is ‘Fueled by light, it never needs a battery.’ The Casio has been laid to rest, though the digital display will pulse away the time in the dark until its 10-year life expires. A post will follow in the coming weeks.

I assembled the nightstands that I had ordered through Overstock. They look a bit awkward flanking my temporary bed that rises just 4 inches from off the floor (perfect for the drunken stupors I no longer get). To do list: get a real bed. If you don’t buy it, they [females] won’t come [the alternate spelling has been tastefully expunged].

On my last day in Houston, I upgraded my dead Razr to the new Motorola Droid, the same one in the billboards with the ominous red eye staring out from the luminescent screen. I must say that it is a stunningly beautiful phone, and I like it much more than the iPhone. Handheld internet and GPS are a must. Review to come.

I figured out how to work and clean the vacuum, but like a typical 20-something bachelor, I didn’t put that knowledge to use.

In the boring, financial times, I rebalanced my 401k.

In deeper, philosophical times, I re-contemplated becoming a Catholic priest. Then I figured I was suffering from the grass-is-greener-on-the-other-side syndrome and subsequently spent my way out of my funk on Amazon.

Think of these 1-2 sentence updates as my tweets if I were ever to be sucked into the Twitter scourge. These updates are a nice way to remember what I was doing at a certain point in time. Diaries/Journals are surprisingly time-consuming.

I was depressed that there were absolutely zero comments on my backposts. Then I drank, and the feeling went away. Thank you MacAllan 12-year. Joking, but I am a little sad about the lack of love. The bottle of MacAllan, like the comment boxes, remains untouched.

I had a minor epiphany that the story of Narcissus would not have existed if people didn’t love him in the first place, despite the fact that he was an ass.

It’s the fundraising season of my local public radio station. I changed the station on my clock radio. These two events were entirely unrelated.

I wondered what percentage of people enjoyed what they did for a living. Then I looked at my pay stub, and I stopped complaining.

Ties are like nooses. Heels are like shackles. They both look good when done properly. Though women can pull off both, men who pull off both are generally frowned upon.

A pill-counting spatula makes a good letter opener. Actual letter openers don’t make good letter openers.

And finally, a friend once said to me, 'g, sometimes you can be a real blonde.' I understand that now, given the last 2 paragraphs of very random observations. Unlike my drinking water and cigarettes (if I smoked), I like my thoughts unfiltered.

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