Healthy Curiosity about Our Environment
The week kicked off with Paul calling me into his office and asking me to walk with him to get coffee. Coffee is a morning tossup for me- if I get it before I come in, then Paul hasn’t gotten his yet, and he wants me to walk with him to get his "triple espresso with ground glass" fix, and if I decide to wait, then Paul’s already chewing his coffee. There’s really nothing I can do. Either way I wind up making an extra trip.
Not to say that I don’t enjoy our morning walks. Paul is even worse than I am when it comes to conversational filters, and is prone to talking about the details of our most recent film as he is to discussing A Remembrance of Things Past. And watching everyone standing around at 9 a.m., waiting for their doubleshot half-caf nonfat mocha Frappuchinos and trying desperately to not listen to a rather loud deconstruction of 70’s-era cumshots, well, that more than makes up for the trip.
There’s an adventure aspect, as well. Recently, Paul and I were standing in line and I was talking about this book I’m reading- Dangerous Places. It’s like Lonely Planet for places that you head to if you have a death wish- Afghanistan, Sierra Leone, or maybe even the United States- and I was specifically talking about some tidbit I’d picked up about Libya. Paul interrupted me: “Whatever happened to Qadhafi?”
“I’m pretty sure he died, or he’s not in power, or something.” I have a remarkable grasp of international politics, and am regularly sought after by politically-minded San Francisco groups when they need a poster-boy for “the apathetic twenty-something responsible for our country’s rapid descent into Republican tyranny.” I usually refuse to go unless there’s free food.
Paul: “Really?”
Me: “Yep. Anyhow…”
I trailed off because the guy ahead of us in line, a cute, fashionably disheveled guy (he looked like he had just rolled out of bed and into a tub of hair product) about my age had turned around and was making gentle “pardon me” type noises. He very kindly corrected me. “He’s not dead, and he is still in power. He’s just not having people shot directly in front of other people anymore. But, you know, baby steps…”
We thanked him- he was so polite! Afterward we tried to figure out what it was, exactly, that made him so great, and we decided he was just magnetic. So magnetic that we followed him a few blocks to see where he was going. It was less stalking and more a healthy curiosity about our environment. Anyhow, as we ran a little bit to catch up- he had just turned a corner into an alley- we almost ran head-first into our UPS delivery guy, who loudly greeted us and told us that he had a package for Paul. Which sort of killed the whole not-stalking thing. We do, however, now know where he lives.
Anyhow, when we got back from getting coffee this morning, Paul fast-forwarded to the hidden bit at the end of What I Can’t See. I’d never seen it before. I’m not giving anything away, but everyone needs to watch their porn more carefully.
Then Damon Dogg came in with the latest issue of Paper Magazine and a proud grin. The very last page of Paper has the Drunk Klowns website and some stills of Damon and Co., wearing full makeup and a couple cans of beer. Mazel tov, Damon- you’re one step closer to making inebriated, hypersexed clowns more socially acceptable.
In other news, Paul brought this article by Matt Sizemore to my attention. It’s about his “debut” as a bareback performer, and the narrow attitude of people towards what the phrase “personal freedom” means. The only real problem we have with it is that it’s not really his debut- he already made his bareback debut with Treasure Island Media in “Riding Billy Wild”. No matter, it’s a good article, and it’s nice to hear from someone else who thinks that Will Clark is kind of misguided in his zealotry.
Not to say that I don’t enjoy our morning walks. Paul is even worse than I am when it comes to conversational filters, and is prone to talking about the details of our most recent film as he is to discussing A Remembrance of Things Past. And watching everyone standing around at 9 a.m., waiting for their doubleshot half-caf nonfat mocha Frappuchinos and trying desperately to not listen to a rather loud deconstruction of 70’s-era cumshots, well, that more than makes up for the trip.
There’s an adventure aspect, as well. Recently, Paul and I were standing in line and I was talking about this book I’m reading- Dangerous Places. It’s like Lonely Planet for places that you head to if you have a death wish- Afghanistan, Sierra Leone, or maybe even the United States- and I was specifically talking about some tidbit I’d picked up about Libya. Paul interrupted me: “Whatever happened to Qadhafi?”
“I’m pretty sure he died, or he’s not in power, or something.” I have a remarkable grasp of international politics, and am regularly sought after by politically-minded San Francisco groups when they need a poster-boy for “the apathetic twenty-something responsible for our country’s rapid descent into Republican tyranny.” I usually refuse to go unless there’s free food.
Paul: “Really?”
Me: “Yep. Anyhow…”
I trailed off because the guy ahead of us in line, a cute, fashionably disheveled guy (he looked like he had just rolled out of bed and into a tub of hair product) about my age had turned around and was making gentle “pardon me” type noises. He very kindly corrected me. “He’s not dead, and he is still in power. He’s just not having people shot directly in front of other people anymore. But, you know, baby steps…”
We thanked him- he was so polite! Afterward we tried to figure out what it was, exactly, that made him so great, and we decided he was just magnetic. So magnetic that we followed him a few blocks to see where he was going. It was less stalking and more a healthy curiosity about our environment. Anyhow, as we ran a little bit to catch up- he had just turned a corner into an alley- we almost ran head-first into our UPS delivery guy, who loudly greeted us and told us that he had a package for Paul. Which sort of killed the whole not-stalking thing. We do, however, now know where he lives.
Anyhow, when we got back from getting coffee this morning, Paul fast-forwarded to the hidden bit at the end of What I Can’t See. I’d never seen it before. I’m not giving anything away, but everyone needs to watch their porn more carefully.
Then Damon Dogg came in with the latest issue of Paper Magazine and a proud grin. The very last page of Paper has the Drunk Klowns website and some stills of Damon and Co., wearing full makeup and a couple cans of beer. Mazel tov, Damon- you’re one step closer to making inebriated, hypersexed clowns more socially acceptable.
In other news, Paul brought this article by Matt Sizemore to my attention. It’s about his “debut” as a bareback performer, and the narrow attitude of people towards what the phrase “personal freedom” means. The only real problem we have with it is that it’s not really his debut- he already made his bareback debut with Treasure Island Media in “Riding Billy Wild”. No matter, it’s a good article, and it’s nice to hear from someone else who thinks that Will Clark is kind of misguided in his zealotry.
posted by Jack Jablonsky at 12:34 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home