rock that casbah

lookin' for a good ol' timey war flick? one of those history repeats itself types? well try the battle of algiers (1965) on for size. especially if you think french people are stinky. 'cause they are. all of them.

it strikes me as eerie foreshadowing of every colonial v. gorilla conflict to happen since then, iraq part 2 included. it's brutal. it's honest. it doesn't spend much time on sissy subplots or sexy co-stars. just reel to reel wet hot revolutionary mayhem. my kinda' flick.

what? you have a car in NYC?!! not for long you crazy fool.

not a car. a race car. duh. one of the hidden benefits of having an hour long train commute to the straawb every morning is having a place to park my bucket at night. and I gotta' tell you, driving in the city, well, it's da'bomb. a sea of yellow mercenaries paid to move people from one place to the next. and some cops. and me. all fighting to squeeze at high speed into small spaces, advance position, beat the lights.

well all was fun and games.

did you know it's illegal in the state of new york to hold a cell phone whilst operating a motor vehicle? NYPD knows. and now I know. I was on the telly with ms. jillian (sorry I had to hang up) and a cop told me to pull over. I considered my options, and not pulling over made the patty a wee bit nervous. he sent a gaggle of beat cops after me. who, at the next red light, politely demanded I pull the vehicle over. but I was in a hurry! "I don't really have the time," I told the officer who's mouth was foaming at my window. I guess he meant business?

welp, no insurance, the car isn't registered, nor titled. hell, it's a racecar! I was wearing my safetybelt, and that must have bode heavily on the hearts of the jr. swat patrol. rather than confiscate my wheels or tie my shoelaces together they were proper gentlemen; sent me on my way with a handful of yellow confetti (cough*tickets*cough) and a smile.
I <3 N Y.

big can o'bullshit.

be enormous. you should. shouldn't you? whatever, as long as we're authentic to our target, the 'pack male.' but what does it mean to be enormous? is it Crock Dundee? that guy was pretty bigtime. or is it that kid that cut his own arm off with a pocket knife when it was trapped under a boulder? pretty f'n enormous. or is it Ferris Buler? that guy lives enormous for sure. no, it's none of the above, and at the same time all of the above. regardless, our task is to encourage the packmale to be more enormous, and even give him the resources to do so. but not really. we actually just want to poke fun at being enormous. because we've decided there's something funny about being enormous. but we also want to encourage enormosity. whatever. good luck asshole.
being enormous.

don't make no trouble

I just wanna' clear something up before I start this whole "the internet" thing:

terrorist.