Wednesday, January 14, 2004

11:20:33 PM    comment []

a shark? What is the deal with Gretta Van Susteren?  Is she a sharK?  The terminator?  Or is there just a requirement that you have to look kind of spooky and weird to be on the FOX news channel? (I was watching her on FOX when this popped into my head.  I actually find these pictures (taken form google) kind of flattering compared to what I just saw on tv.  With my luck I will see her at Starbucks tomorrow and I will have to backtrack and apologize, while stuttering (susterening?) and say that I didn't really mean it.) (Just after I posted this my computer was deluged with pop-up ads.  Coincidence?  FOX news conspiracy?  You be the judge.) 11:05:39 PM    comment []

hello, st. pete times readers! Thanks for checking out my "blog."  A blog is like a journal on the net where you can write whatever the hell you want and post pictures too.  Below you will find my thoughts, personal anecdotes, confessions, and other assorted psycho-babble from someone who has lived in St. Petersburg for 30 years. If you read enough, you just might find a story about yourself in here.  Enjoy. 9:01:53 PM    comment []

8:59:08 PM    comment []

steal these iguanas What do they say about insanity?  It's repeating the same thing again and again and expecting different results? When it comes to my life of buying and owning pets, I am truly insane.  None of my pets have turned out to be anything but a miserable experience  (for me and the pet), and my iguanas are no exception. I thought iguanas would be different, because they would just look cool sitting on a stick in their cage, occasionally crawling down to munch on some lettuce.  They wouldn't bark, and they wouldn't chew up my furniture and they wouldn't give me fleas.  Basically, they were just supposed to be like sculpture in the corner of my living room that I would feed from time to time. But the iguanas didn't live up to the dream from day one.  I found out right away that iguanas don't really like to be held.  When I tried to pick them up they would whip me with their tails like Indiana Jones.  If I got past their tails then they would scratch the living hell out of me with their claws. I had an old girlfriend that managed to get past the tails and claws and held one in her hand. "I wonder what he would do if I stuck my finger in his mouth?" she said.  The iguana answered by clamping down on her pointer finger like a vice.  "Oh, my God!" she said. People keep telling me that if you handle them on a daily basis they will get used to you and stop all the scratching and whipping and biting.  But who has time for that?  After my first thrashing,  I just let them languish in their cage, periodically throwing lettuce and water in there like they were prisoners in Alcatraz. As the iguanas got bigger, their shit got bigger and stinkier.  Pretty soon my living room stank.  One day I went to sweep the floor around their cage and I discovered that they had actually been shitting through the bars and onto the floor.  I avoided dealing with it until the stink was just too horrible, and then I got down on my hands and knees and scrubbed up all the shit. Another of their favorite activities is to shit right in their water bowl.  They must think its a toilet or something.  I guess the saying, "don't shit where you eat," doesn't translate into iguana language. And then there's the whole feeding situation.  Its not like you can go buy a big 50 pound bag of dried iguana food once a month.  I have to go get them fresh lettuce every two or three days.  Not cheap iceberg lettuce, mind you.  No, they have to have fancy mixed greens.  Romaine, parsley, kale.  It seems like everytime I come home and just want to relax, I realize that the iguanas are out of lettuce again and starving.  It makes it worse that they can't say anything.  They just stare at me with their starving reptile eyes.  I can't rest or do anything knowing that they're out of food.  Got to fight traffic one more time.  Got to feed the lizards. I knew it would get worse when winter time rolled around.  My house is very poorly heated and iguanas are supposed to be kept warm all the time.  The only way I can keep them alive is to put them right in front of the wall unit heater in the living room.  I have to run it night and day when the temperature drops or else they would certainly die. Just the other day I got my electric bill.  It was $234--a ridiculous amount for a single guy living in a two bedroom cottage.  I wanted to take the iguanas out and fry them up in a pan and eat them.  But barring that, I swore that I would take them back to the pet store the minute I got home. But when I got home I was dead on my feet.  It was easier to just let them run up my electric bill and stink up my house for another day. Anyway, I can't write anymore.  The starving lizard eyes are staring at me.  I have to fight traffic one more time and buy some expensive lettuce. (If, in the meantime, someone wanted to break into my houes and steal my iguanas, I wouldn't breathe a word). 7:56:10 PM    comment []

almost famous Tomorrow should be a pretty interesting day.  I did an interview with Tom Zucco of the St. Petersburg Times about the "Tomorrow" banner (see below), and I guess the story is going to run in the City/State section. I wonder if I will play it a little more cool than the last times I had articles about my pranks.  I used to walk around with a notebook full of newstories and pictures of myself and shove them in everybody's face trying to show them how important I was.  I would take the articles everywhere: bars, coffee shops, other people's art openings. "Hey check this out!" I would say. Probably I will do the same thing again. Its kind of weird being interviewed by a reporter.  You start talking like some sort of serious minded person with lots poignant and profound things to say. "Well, basically my art works on many levels.  First, it challenges our very sense of existence...." If only I could be there to see my mom's face when she first opens the newspaper.  She is a religious St. Pete Times reader, and she is always horrified everytime I end up in print.  It always confirms her suspicion that I am some sort of crazy, idiot.  But what's worse is she has to face her neighbors and co-workers while she knows they are whispering about what a crazy idiot her son is behind her back. Well, anyway.  The paper should hit the stands about 4am.  I'll probably be waiting by the newsbox in my bathrobe. 7:05:41 PM    comment []

© Copyright 2004 Mark Michaels. Last update: 2/1/2004; 6:28:31 PM.