Archive for August, 2010

Gretchen,

You stupid bitch. Period.

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I woke up with puffy eyes, again.

No, it’s not because I rented The Last Station last night from Red Box and then cried for about 4 minutes there at the end.

I took my monthly trek to El Cajon yesterday via trolley and stinky bus to go pay my overdue car storage fees. This is always a nice break for me because the travel time round trip takes about 3 hours and I often like to escape my business life. After I had paid my bill, I sat and waited at a bus stop on the corner of Peach and Second. The temperature was close to 90 and it was near that time where the sky was half dark blue, half bright orange and you could hear about one or two early bird crickets getting ready for the night.

I sat in a daze, staring at a weed growing through a crack in the sidewalk, thinking about my future and debating whether or not I should give it all up and go on a killing spree, when I heard a shuffling behind me. It was a very tall and frail homeless man, or to whom appeared to be homeless, lazily dragging his feet as he walked like a newly turned zombie. He stopped and let out an “ugh” as he grabbed the bus stop post and clenched his chest. My first thought was “Oh shit please don’t do anything that would elect me to be a hero”. But then he just kept on walking. I was annoyed for some reason. But he kept walking.

After an hour or so the bus had not come. It was still hot as hell and a breeze came through; not a relieving one. It felt like Satan was blowing his hot ass breath on me. Asshole. I decided to walk to Broadway which was only a few blocks down. As I hit Broadway I saw a bus stop a ways down and couldn’t wait to sit and relax. I have had the worst day and was looking forward to the relaxing ride home. As I came up to the bench the same homeless man I had seen earlier was sitting there, hunched over, very tired looking and eating potato salad out of a small cup. His posture was depressing. Beat down and surrendered. I sat by him and gave him a nice hello. He mumbled something and kind of shrugged his shoulders.

“Bluih blarg ghhhh Tsss how I feel.”

“What?” I said?

“That’s how I feel”. I assumed he was talking about the exhausted breath I let out as I sat down. I had already established that he was some old crazy homeless and that anything he had to say would be that from a crazy man. But then, for some reason, I decided to talk to him to see what kind of responses I could muster out of him.

“When does the bus come?”

He shrugged his shoulders and replied, “Oh I don’t know, I’m just sitting here and relaxing”.

“Oh ok….”

“….”

“You live around here sir?”

He mumbled again something I couldn’t make out but then in a clearer voice he said “Well yeah, I’ve lived here my whole life, born and raised in San Diego.”

“Oh really?:” I was surprised to get such a response from him. It was coherent and it encouraged me to ask more.

“Oh that’s cool, me too!”

“Yeah, I went to El Cajon High over here around the corner, class of 63!” He seemed to be excited and I started to see this new life in him.

“Oh really? I went there too, in 94/95!” It was an odd feeling to discover that two people with such a great gap in age and social class had something like that in common. “Go Braves…” He said. (Indians were our school mascot.)

He then went on to talk about his youth. He explained how he was born in Hillcrest at Mercy, long before, as he said, it turned into “[he lifted his hand and bent his wrist like a gay man] town”. He talked about being in Vietnam for 2 years, traveling around the planet 3 times and then going to San Diego State, and how he worked 2 jobs to get through College and would drive up to Hollywood every weekend to teach piano. He respectfully turned the conversation to his belief in God. How he knew he had only a few years to live and he was exhausted of this life of war and waste, and couldn’t wait to be with Him. I always get annoyed with people pushing beliefs, but this was not the case here; this was a man with true faith and didn’t care if others’ were different. He had a happiness about this that I oddly couldn’t help but be envious of.

After about an hour of thoughtful conversation about war and peace and life and death, I saw my bus coming in a distance.

“Look at me now, spent my whole life fighting wars and watching wars… and here I am on this bench with only a few years to live.”

I got up as the bus pulled in. “Good night Dear you have great night!” he exclaimed. As I waved bye, I noticed how he was exuding some liveliness, his posture was upright and he had a big smile on his face regardless of the semi depressing conversation I had with him. He looked nothing like the tired and beaten down old homeless I initially saw that night.

And just a little more, I began to hate people. A tiny bit more.

Watch it here.

Some of my opinions have changed on a few people, and it looks like I called it on others ie. Nicholas is a little bitch. Check it out;

Not my good side.

Ivy: You’re still not the shit and you’re so fucking annoying with that jibberjabber.
Peach: She’s still old but she’s not so bad. Her designs suck but she kinda makes me laugh.
April: You look like a Simpson’s character from the side with that larger protruding upper lip. AND QUIT PUTTING YOUR BIG EARED MODELS HAIR UP! Fuck! Dude. Her ears are all I see!
Michael: I know why you always wear hats. YOU’RE BALDING AND YOU CARE! Ha! Prove me wrong.
Valerie: It may be that I’m in a bad mood but something irks me.
A.J.: Annoying little fag.
Mondo: I never use the initialism “lol”, but you made me “lol” with that whole “this talent is a curse” thing.
Nickolas: I called it Nick. Grow some balls when you get home.
Casanova: Too easy to make fun of.
McKell: I wish you were back. Hopefully that’s a future twist.
Gretchen: Yeah you can make clothes but I see that shit in boutiques all the time. No innovation and unfortunately you’re making it to the top 3.
Andy: Why do you wear airbrush make up? Trust me, it’s not doing your horrid skin any favors. Just be happy with yourself.
Michael: “Couture couture couture”… please find out what couture REALLY is then get back to me.
Sarah: No thoughts.
Christopher: Nice guy. Not gonna make it.
Jason: Worst attitude ever. YA BLEW IT.
Kristin: I know the first thought in your mind is “I hope I win so that I can get some braces”. Just kidding! Wait… I’m not.

I’m so excited to say that one of the DJs that we sponsor is in the current issue of San Diego’s 944! Check it out here or click the pic.

No Homo

Posted: August 2, 2010 in Uncategorized

Cutest fucking cupcake ever.

Eat me.