Tuesday, September 17, 2013

A Sermon


A Sermon

Life is scary. Especially if you are someone like me. Jewish. A Woman. A Person Who Thinks Deep Into Things. A coal miner of the brain, if you will. There are lots of things to be scared of. Accidents. Illnesses. My future. My career. Will someone love me so much that they want to marry me? What if on a whim on a Wednesday night I am on the way to get a haircut--just a modest trim because I am growing it long--but I think, “Screw it! What if I just get a short bob?” AND I GO THROUGH WITH IT AND THE NEXT DAY I CRY IN THE SHOWER BECAUSE IT VIOLATES THE GOAL I HAVE BEEN WORKING TOWARDS FOR THE PAST TWO YEARS? Will I ever get paid to do what I love? What if they discontinue the cranberry tuna salad at Whole Foods or what if I develop a food allergy that prevents me from eating something that brings me joy? And bad stuff that could happen to other people like  a natural disaster or a car accident or someone calling another person a bad name and their feelings are hurt and they hold onto it and it makes them hate themself?  What I’m trying to say is, everyday life involves lots of scary stuff. One scary thing that I did not mention is something that everyone has encountered at one time or another. It is a scary thing that effects millions of people every day; be it in their own lives, or in encounters with others who suffer from it. It is offensive. It makes lots of people uncomfortable. It is insidious. And no one ever wants to tell someone that they have it. But people talk about it behind peoples backs. I’m talking about bad breath.

Like wines or cereals, there are many variatals of bad breath. A very good friend of mine has bad breath from time to time (frequently). But his breath is more of a surface bad. It’s got a big bark but a gentle bite-- like a shihtszu or an insecure bitch.  Like a thunderously loud fart that doesn’t smell. So like, one huff of his breath and you’re like GOD DAMN! But it’s nothing that couldn’t be remedied by a moderate gargle of Listerine. It has cheesy notes and a musty, dry, and hot essence to it. You know those shitty comforters your friend would have in her basement to use for sleepovers? The filling felt like cheap stuffed animal filling? That is what this kind of stank breath reminds me of. My Mom, on the other hand, god bless her, has bad breath that puts my friends bad breath to shame. Her bad breath has an ancient feeling to it. When I smell her bad breath I think of an Egyptian tomb, a sarcophagus being unoped for the first time ever. Her bad breath is ancestral. Her bad breath is what a ship sailing into Ellis Island after weeks at sea smelt like. The steerage level. But we’ll get to that later.

With such a wide disparity between my friend’s mild (bad as hell) breath and my Mom’s Bergen-Belsen morning breath, I thought I would create a spectrum, so when someone breathes into your face and you want to run away immediately you will have an easy way to describe to your friends what you experienced.


Stage One: Bad breath as a result of eating something bad or not drinking enough liquids to keep the mouth moist and smellin’ fresh. Common amongst Jewish people as a result of reckless consumption of strong foods, such as/not limited to: lox, onion, cream cheese, kugel, blintz, borsht, pickled herring, etc. Can be remedied with over the counter treatments such as: Listerine, Colgate, Trident, NOT ALTOIDS or TIC TACS, which make your breath worse. You need something with chemicals to defeat whatever is subletting your mouth and emanating foul filth.

Stage Two: An extreme case of Stage One. You were at stage one, and didn’t do anything about it because you were on a bus for 9 hours or you just don’t care about yourself or other people. Stage two is Desert breath, or, mouth odor resulting from dehydration, also known as cotton mouth. You need to drink a large amount of something and follow up with one of the over the counter treatments aforementioned.

Stage Three: The “what the fuck kind of person are you? I’ve had you pegged all wrong. I thought you were a decent person...” offensive breath. This kind of breath is experienced in quiet places, where one may need to enter another persons personal space to convey a message; a Six Inch Voice space, if you will. When the offender uses their six inch voice on you, you are taken aback. You want to stand 2 feet back and put your hand on your chest and say, “Oh, God.” Stage 3 breath may be a result of a combination of Stage One and Stage Two causes--anything from an onion bagel with tuna salad and a bag of Doritos an hour ago and a lack of liquid consumption and maybe something else too. You have an encounter with this person that reveals to you what kind of heat they’re pushing, and you feel like Nancy Drew  needing to solve this case immediately. You ask yourself, “Are they a bad breath person? What did they eat today? Did I see them drink water?” And then you realize...you didn’t see her go to the bathroom to pee ONCE in the 3 hours you were together! And then you feel like Hailey Joel Osment with your powerful intuition and ability to put the facts together as you say in your head, “It all makes sense now! Of course this person WOULD have bad breath. Of course they would. It all makes sense now.” Stage 3 is also known as Temple Breath: the scent eminating from a Jew’s mouth in temple on Yom Kippur. They are davening, they are thirsty, they have NOT brushed their teeth, they are CHA-ing, saying Ba-RUCH over and over, bringing every cell in the body towards the front of the mouth, and they have not eaten anything. This breath is BAD, but it is as a result of very obvious reasons. The only acceptable place for Stage Three breath is at shul. If you are not at a place of Judaic worship and your breath is buzzing at a Stage Three, you should be ashamed of yourself.

Stage Four: This is the real deal. This is the worst kind of bad breath. Stage Four hits close to home. My own mother has Stage Four bad breath. This is the kind of breath that when you smell it, you see visions of your ancestors. You see tenements. You see tumbleweeds. You see Egyptian tombs. You see Regan in the Exorcist projectile vomiting while her head spins around. You see the scene in the beginning of Titanic when the guys bring up the safe that is supposed to contain the Heart of the Ocean diamond but they open it and it’s just the saddest brown orange sandy liquid you ever saw. When this breath is thrust upon you, every part of you is offended. You hear windows shatter, babies crying, freight trains announcing their passing. But mainly, you are afraid for what is rotting inside the body of this person. Because it smells like something is corroding deep within their body. This breath smells like it is coming from beyond the grave. Is this person dying? Are they possessed? Who do I need to call? This is serious. This breath can NOT be remedied by an OTC. A Listerine gargle would only merely mask the scent of the darkness that lurks within. This bad breath would LOL at the thought of Listerine. This is the Jennifer Hudson singing “I Am Telling You” of bad breaths. I first experienced this breath at a time when I wasn’t ready to articulate the discomfort I felt with it, or linguistically capable of analyzing and categorizing terrible smells. The first time I experienced Stage Four bad breath was approximately 3 years ago in a sylvan town just outside of New York City. I was at Trader Joe’s with my Mom, and I was checking out a bag of frozen peas, deciding whether to go with the Family Size Easy Zip burlap sack or just the regular size one, when my Mom leaned over my shoulder to see what was going on and said, “Whattaya lookin at honey?” And I, in horror, whipped my face in the opposite direction to take in a gulp of air that was free of the scent of carcass, and then whipped it back to let her know. “Mom, your breath stinks like shit!” She giggled in embarrassment, then accepted her diagnosis, then turned to horror and desperation as she said, “Oh no! What do I do?” The look on her face was of guilt--and I could tell she had been quietly harboring this Stage Four bad breath on her own. She had no one to turn to. She was too embaressed to admit to anyone what was going on. She was, in a word, ashamed. So I did what any loving daughter who wants the best for her adoring mother. I went to the source. I went to the text. I went to Google. I gathered some data based on extensive research, and I drafted out a plan of action on a legal pad. We went to the health food store. We went to the grocery store. We went to the pharmacy. We did it all. And you know what? Her breath is still bad in the morning before she brushes her teeth. She brushes her teeth AFTER coffee and breakfast. Which is like, GOOD FOR HER (AND “THEM”--the other people who engage in this barbaric practice) but for the rest of us, we suffer. Stage Four Breath is a chronic disease that affects over 10 million Americans in the United Stages. It can’t be cured, but it can be helped. Through the vigilant use of modern medicine and OTC treatments, it can be moderately subdued. Like Spanx. It can hold in those parts you don’t want people to see for a period of time, but...those parts cannot be tamed forever, and no one is wearing Spanx when they roll out of bed in the morning.

The moral of the story is, when you smell someone’s breath and it isn’t pleasing, TELL THEM. It is your duty as a citizen. Your job to make the world a better place. One bad breath call out at a time.

Tuesday, August 14, 2012

ART

Things I have been watching/loving/doing/not doing:

1) SIX FEET UNDER--For the second time! Profound, inspiring, my favorite television show of all time. THAT'S BEATING OUT ALL OF MY FAVORITE 90s / EARLY 2000 TV SHOWS.

2) HBO Digitals---The Boring Life of Jacquelyn--My new favorite thing. I am LOVING the attention that the mundane/sad/lonely/needy/quiet desperation part of life is getting these days. This show, each episode being 15 minutes, is about the life of Jacquelyn--a very low functioning New York actress, who spends her days looking for auditions on Craigslist, making two item to do lists, and fantasizing about having friends/sex.  It's clear that she is supported by her parents, because she doesn't have a job and has the ability to buy sandals and Cocoa puffs and other luxury goods.  When her parents tell her she needs to "get realistic" she says, "FINE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO SUPPORT ME AND MY PASSION THEN JUST SAY IT!"  It's unclear what her passion is, as she just seems to want to "make it" and "be famous."  I feel for Jacquelyn, and I think that she is a very heightened version of all of us--the parts of us that are lonely, lazy, insecure, confused, and scared.  Jacquelyn's life is the distillation of how we feel when we are having shitty days where we feel like lazy pieces of garbage, but at the same time we're hopeful that something good will happen--even the smallest thing--like a surprising phone call or a spark of creative inspiration.  The show put's her under a microscope and we get to see the parts of ourselves that we don't share with anyone reflected in her -it's SO MUNDANE and thus brilliant and I LOVE IT. I read an interview with the creator of the show, Sebastian Silva, and what he said about the show was....


CVF What’s the thing with HBO?
SS A comedy series with ten episodes. It’s called The Boring Life of Jacqueline. It’s a very accurate portrait of how people in my generation and younger live nowadays, especially with the social networks on the Internet, and how connected they feel but how disconnected they really are from everybody. I didn’t write it intentionally as social or political critique. I’m not political; that’s never my first intention. It was rather me feeling like Jacqueline. It’s like walking down Broadway with nothing to do and going inside a shoe store and trying on shoes that you weren’t even going to buy. You look at yourself in the mirror and you’re like, You suck. (laughter) What the fuck are you doing with your life? It’s more about those moments when you’re being really pathetic. Just the sad miserable shit that nobody shares, but everybody goes through. It’s a misery-exploitation series.

YES! Can we all talk about how we're feeling when we're being pathetic? And then validate the shit out of each other?

SINGLE LONG: Another HBO Digital Series. This one is based in Chicago and deals with people my age being single and doing comedy. YEAH!!

4) (I think I'm at four. Too lazy to scroll up and check.) AVOCADOS! So tasty. So sensual. 
5) LOVING YOGA! NAMASTE!
6)  READING IS GREAT!! I am currently reading and loving Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn. I recently read IRONICALLY (which means I read it not because I wanted to out of interest, but I wanted to have my thumb on the pulse of humanity)  the biggest piece of garbage, 50 Shades of Gray (Gray? Grey? Gray? Grey?) and I have things to say about it, which I will touch on in a future post.
7) My mom has been making a lot of corn salads lately, and she's loving roasted brussell sprouts! She tells me this via phone because she lives in New York, and it makes me miss her.  My mom LOVES to tell me IN GREAT DETAIL everything she's been cooking: what spawned her interest in ___ (insert ingredient), where she went to get said ingredient (usually Fairway on 125th Street), how she cooked it, how it tasted, how much my dad liked it/hated it. When you love someone you get the pleasure of loving every part of them, including when your mom spends upwards of 20 minutes telling you about the puttanesca sauce she made last week. MOMS! LOVE THEM!
Was that enough mundane stuff for you guys?? WATCH THE THINGS I TOLD YOU ABOUT YOU WILL NOT REGRET IT.

Friday, July 20, 2012

Friday Musings

The thing that I miss most about New York is my Mom. Specifically, how when I am leaving to go back to wherever I live after a visit, she stands at the door and waves to me and blows kisses as the car I am in is pulling away.  I also miss how when we are driving together, usually she's driving and I am in the passenger seat, and we're listening to music, she taps my knee to the beat or to her own beat. That's just what she likes to do.  I love that woman.  

I went to hot yoga this morning and I feel as victorious as I imagine a Native American Iroquois chief would feel if he slaughtered a water buffalo after his tribe had been through a three week famine. 

I'm amusing myself and [annoying] my friends with my latest bit. I have a huge crush (you know, like a thirteen year old girl) on a guy, and I don't really know him at all, and I'm not sure if he knows how to pronounce my name correctly, but I talk about him as if we are in a relationship (you know, like a crazy person).  I was having lunch with the extraordinary Jenny at the Heartland Cafe, and we were talking about movies we wanted to see/things we wanted to eat/how many episodes of Six Feet Under a day we need to watch to finish Season 5 before Jenny moves to New York...etc I'm getting to the point:

Jenny: Do you want to go to the movies on Wednesday night?
Me: I'd love to! But I might have a date with ____. He wants to see a few movies that are out too so maybe we can all go together?

or

In a parked car with Drew, waiting to pick our friend up from the airport, and he gets a text from this guy he's been dating. As he is diligently responding to his beau, I busy myself with my social medias.
Me: THAT IS SO WEIRD! I got a little message from my boo too!
Drew: Really? What did he say?
Me: He said, Hey Ayala, I know we've never spent time together, but I can't stop thinking about you and if you are interested in having a lot of sex and also falling in love, I am also very interested in doing both of those things. Call me right when you get this. Don't be cool and wait a few hours/and or day(s).

Am I crazy? Is it cute? Creepy? Creepy/cute? I don't know! The heart wants what the heart wants, what can I say.

I purchased a new body wash the other day.  It's going pretty well, but I'm not 100% satisfied. I love the scent, but my all natural body wash makes me feel cleaner. So I'm going to switch hit, if that's okay with you all.

I saw a firefly the other night and it was very exciting for me. I miss the rolling hills of the Lower Hudson Valley of New York, where I lived when I was a chaste young countrywoman, walking through the lush forests, collecting various berries and walking sticks. 

I saw an older man the other day in Wicker Park who was wearing a Zabar's baseball cap. I felt butterflies in my stomach. I hadn't realized how much I miss my Dad/New York food stores.

I've been very busy doing nothing lately. I feel very satisfied with myself when I can spend a good 4-6 hours doing nothing. Just being. It's enough sometimes!

GREEN OLIVES.

I still haven't gotten curtains for my new apartment. Currently, I'm masking my nakedness by hanging all of my scarves in front of the window. Is it working, neighbors?

Well that's that. I have to go.  I am spending the late afternoon/evening with my lover _____.  He says he has something important to tell me. WHAT COULD IT BE WHAT COULD IT BE!



Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Convo

In quotes are the things people said to me this week.  In (__) are the things I wanted to say but didn't.

"He's like the guy version of me." (THAT SOUNDS TERRIBLE)
"I'm not hungry." (YOU HAVE AN EATING DISORDER)
"I'm in love with you." (NIGGA PLEASE)
"Tell me about your previous job." (Well, I sat at a computer, pretended to be very busy and engaged, answered the phone occasionally, when I had the time; pinned 1000s of pictures, dabbled in Craigslist, gchatted, thought about lunch...yeah.)
"I'm not in the mood for sushi." (GO FUCK YOURSELF)
"This shirt is SO you." (ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME? YOU THINK THAT THAT REPRESENTS WHO I AM? MY DREAMS? MY ATTITUDE? MY ESSENCE? WELL FUCK YOU THEN.)
"Do you want to go to this new tapas place?"-(No. I'm hungry and I'd prefer not to eat my paella out of a thimble.)



Thursday, January 12, 2012

I Was in Cabo!

I haven't blogged (that sounds dirty to me, i.e., "I blogged the shit outta her the other night bro") in WEEKS! WEEKS! How did the earth continue to spin? Babies continue to shit? My mom continue to knit tiny neck pieces? Tis a mystery.  But I'm back. I know you must be relieved. I thought I would take you into the pages of a brilliant, sacred text that has been seen by very, very few people. Yes, you bougie ass hoes, I'm going to just transcribe some diddies from my comedy notebook! (ALSO NEWSFLASH: Did you know that you only have to put one space between a period and the first word of a new sentence?!? HOLY FUCK! I THOUGHT IT WAS TWO! As I was perusing the Chicago Manual of Style the other day (cause that's how a nigga rolls), I came upon this information, and nearly DIED of shame--all the cover letters, all the articles I had written for the New Yorker, all the muckraking pamphlets I had sent out...all using TWO SPACES BETWEEN SENTENCES. Anyway, I have recovered from this trauma with the help of meditation and forgiveness. So here's the comedy gold, unedited, uncut, capitalization for enthusiasm (for what I thought was hilarious at the moment of writing)!!!!!!!

-Bridezilla is an actual monster: "I heard her vagina is 50 feet tall!!" "THIS LATTE ISN'T SKIM!!!!" (and then she violently bites the Barista's head off)

At the "Fancy Party"
"Look, Reginald, even the server is fancy."
"Oh, Liptyn, do tell us of your poverty more!"
"There's so much foie here!"
"How do you pronounce it? Re-sesh-un? I thought it was French! I was saying Ree-say-see-yon!"
"I thought a student loan was when one borrows a student from the University to educate the help!"
"Bab, I just love that gilded broach!" ...."Oh, this old thing?"
"This sparkling water is divine!"..."Isn't it?  It's infused with gold!"
"Starbucks is so proletariat.  I'm looking for some venture capitalists to start up Goldbucks."
"Aren't these discussions of our wealth divine?"

Game Show: "Aspergers or Asshole" where contestants are shown pictures or interactions between two people and they have to guess if one of the people has Aspergers, or is just an asshole.

Film an actual Match.com/JDate--b/c the commercials on TV of an "actual" Match.com date are NOT anything like any date I've ever been on

The Lonely Couple
"I just wish we had someone to stay in with tonight."
"I just wish we had someone to come home to."
"I wish we had someone to go to dinner with."
"Valentine's Day is so depressing when you're a couple."

Crazy girl fighting with herself "You're so defensive!"

Said with passion, in the heat of confrontation, "It's not about the mango lassi, it's about our relationship!"

Midwife Crisis

When you're at a restaurant and you're dining partner is like, "I'm SO full" my first thought is, does that mean I have to stop eating?

When I go on vacation with  my friends, I am always the fat friend who is like, "When are we eating lunch, guys?" or, "I want ice cream!"

You know you're a fat slob when...
You cancel plans because you're too full to socialize.
Your jeggings are tight.

Quote Girl--whenever you have a conversation with her, after everything you say she says, "That reminds me of this quote! I think it was Thoreau?..." and then gives the quote that is actually from Katy Perry in a Cosmo interview

Said very aggressively..."It comes with peanut butter...IT COMES WITH PEANUT BUTTER!"

Said by a woman after my own heart at Max Brenners in New York..."Hi, yes, I'll have the Smores Sundae...oh, it's for two? Oh...yeah that's fine.  No, just one spoon.  Thanks...Oh, wait! Can I have skim milk for my coffee? Thanks!"

You give a Vegan Cookbook as a gift to a vegan but none of the recipes are vegan--film it

**I HAVE ABOUT 12 PAGES IN MY NOTEBOOK WHERE I TALK ABOUT THE SERIES FINALE OF SIX FEET UNDER** followed by the joke, "Is anyone still crying from the Six Feet Under series fnale?" I was probaby crying when I wrote it.

Yearbook Club "GUYS! We only have THREE YEARS to finish this yearbook!"
Superlatives:
Most Socially Awkward
Most Creepy
Most Likely To Be a Serial Killer
Most Likely to Contract HPV in Their First Semester of College
Most Likely to Breastfeed in Public
Most Immigranty
Most Likely to Blow the Principal
Most Bulimic
Most Jesus-y
Most Masterbated to Teacher
Best Cunnilingus
Most Closeted
Most Needed Rhinoplasty
Most Successful Drug Dealer
**The head of the yearbook is Mr. Turney, the kind of guy who would dry clean all 30 of his multi colored button up shirts and then say to the girl who works there, "Excuse me? Where's my mustard colored shirt?" when he didn't see it;  it was tucked behind his "Butter Yellow" shirt. He married one of his students; he sits on the back of his chair when he thinks he's delivering enlightening, thought provoking lectures; he used to tap dance as a child (and still does on occasion); he always chaperones school dances, saying, "I would hate to miss a good photo-op for the yearbook!"  He thinks of himself as a young Ed Harris; he doesn't watch football but LOVES to watch the Winter Olympics, specifially the figure skating and gymnastics.  He has a shitzhu named Amy Tan, after his favorite author. People always assume he's gay.

from the In Ten Years Segment...
"In ten years, I will have a trainer, a huge house in Scarsdale, and a nanny named Consuela."-Jessica Rosenstein

Awkward Romance Novel
"As he thrust hard into me, I let out a deafening queef."
"As he plundered me from behind, I caught a glimpse of last nights dinner on my buttocks, and was overcome with insecurity. I commanded him to stop.  As he exited me, I was startled by the sound of a fart that was not my own.  For a brief moment I had thought it was a dog barking in the distance.  Both Stedmond and I knew that this would be our last night together."
Alt. Version: "As we layed together in post coital bliss, we stared into each others eyes, searching for the future, both in half disbelief that we were reunited after all of these years apart.  As he opened his mouth to say something, I farted so loudly the neighbors dog started barking."

Jewiest Lady Names:
Lois Weintraub
Debrah Leibowitz
Lisa Rosenfeld
Doris Goldman
Ruth Goldstein

At an Upper East Side swanky vegan restaurant, an assholey type dad comes up to me (their waitress) and says, "It's Dylan's 10th birthday.  Please make him feel very special." I was like, "Do you want me to blow him?"

I love it when people who have no idea about anything (i.e., like the recent Princeton grad I stood in front of on a standby line at a UCB show) make statements about careers that seem "fun" to them:
-this kid, wearing a Faconable T-Shirt, was telling his friend (they both just graduated from P-ton) how he wants to "try" to support himself b/c he feels "weird" having his parents pay for him to live in New York City. He was an actor.  You know how sometimes you can just TELL that an actor is a horrible actor when you are interacting with them in daily life? Anyways, he was thinking about doing stand up because it looks "fun".  He thinks he's funny but he was like, "but it's not like anyone is ever like, "Omg, Dylan, you're so funny." This kid had the confidence of a 12 year old girl who just got prescribed Accutane and is wearing a T shirt with a horse on it, white Wrangler jeans (with bunchy knees), velcro sneakers, and has a crush on a boy named Todd who is really into bugs in amber.  YA NOT FUNNY DYLAN! IT AIN'T GONNA HAPPEN!

Sensitive Nazis "I just feel really bad Edelheid...that Jew was SO cute."

"Creative" Phys Ed teachers who like to do alternative activities like Pilates, Yoga, Zumba, and Rebounding.  They make their own Mix CDs for the school's boom box.  These CDs ALWAYS have Elton John songs slipped in between hip hop songs from 5-10 years ago, like, "Ghetto Superstar"

Dog People: "Lindon, our Italian toy Greyhound, loves organic peanut butter.  He's such a little gentleman! A real love sponge.  He is so loving.  Dogs just accept you unconditionally.  Sometimes we think he's the reincarnation of my grandfather.  He's so soulful."

Me: "We really need to get our shit together.  If we want this to be our career, we have to treat it like work."
Drew: "Totally, Ay.  Do you want Thai food?"

Birdhouses (me wondering what birds think of birdhouses) and thinking of a bird with the voice of a 68 year old portly, friendly black man who goes into the birdhouse, noshes on some seeds, then, whilst perched in the door hole, says, "Well, I guess I'll just be on my way." (I laughed for a good two minutes thinking about this)










Thursday, December 15, 2011

Literature

I need reading material in the shitter.  Ideally, my favourite (douche) periodical, US Weekly, or something of the like.  If it would be the top choice on the reading list of a 14 year old girl, that's what I want.  But, I'll read anything.  Actually, now that I think about it, my reading interests for the bathroom are the same for the waiting room at the doctors office, minus a Highlights, Prevention, or Pregnancy magazine. All of which I would still read while shitting, I just would never prefer them.  In the bathrooms at my parents house, there is AMPLE reading material.  All sorts of mags, inspirational quote books, AARP, Delia's catalogue (jk), Aamo Magazine (gun mag!), Cabela's (a camping magazine--no one in my family goes camping, but still); Mom keeps it stocked.  Is this a Jewish thing, I wondered?  Because I started thinking about all my Jew friends and their bathrooms, and I realized, in all of these Judaic WCs, there are plentiful reading materials, and extra toilet paper rolls within reach.  My gentile friends on the other hand--no reading material! In a gentile bathroom, there is no evidence that a long, painful (or pleasant!) shit has ever taken place.  No artifacts left behind! Jews set their bathrooms up like a living room and feel no shame in doing so.  In stocking it with things to do, we're saying to the world, "Yeah! We spend a good amount of time in here. And why not make it fun and educational?" We're not afraid to make shitting enjoyable.  And the gentile commodes--what do you guys DO in there?  Is your shitting so easy and quick that not a page is needed to help things get rolling?  Does not a bead of sweat appear upon your brow? Are you even shitting in there? I know you are, but I feel like the message you're sending to me with your magazineless bathroom is like, "Nope.  Nothing's happening in here.  Shitting? What? Nah... I don't shit.  I don't even have an asshole...yeah, I know, isn't that weird?"  It may be a blanket statement but my Jewish friends communicate about their shitting at a MUCH higher frequency than my non-Jew friends.

In the event that there is no reading material in a bathroom for me, I will read anything.  Such as: shampoo bottles, body wash containers, face wash ingredients, Lysol warning labels, the Binghamton Bearcats Alumni Magazine, ANYTHING. If it has words on it, I'm going in.

Just some anthropological observations. I was talking about this last night with my friend and we were laughing so fucking hard.  The fact that we will frantically read Shampoo bottle labels KILLS ME.  Why do we do that?  What's the psychology behind the need to read while dropping one? Do you guys know?

xoxo

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Vegan Organic Drug Dealer

Hey guys. My name is Michael Wright and I'm a Vegan Organic Drug Dealer.  All of my stuff is totally organic, fair-trade, vegan, gluten-free, bio-dynamic, and sustainable.  No mules were harmed in the cultivation of my cocaine.  No maneure was used on the soil I grow my weed in.  No wheat crops were ever grown in or around my fields.  Everything I use to treat my soil is chemical free and totally natural.  Nothing that I put into the earth is wasted.  Just totally plant based and sustainable harvesting practices.  So you can rest easy that the drugs you're doing are totally green.  I'm pretty available most of the day, except between the hours of 5 and 8 am, when I am meditating and chanting, and from 1-3 when I am doing Vinyasa yoga.  Oh, 9-10 is my hour of silent gratitude, so I won't answer my phone then.  But other than those times, I'm free.  So if you need anything, call me, or stop by my place. Cool. Thanks.