Monday, January 19, 2004

scribble face I just drew this face with my new photo shop program.  I call him scribble face. Here is scribble face's story:  Scribble face woke up one morning and made pancakes.  Two of the pancakes turned out fine, but the third pancake was burned to a crisp.  Scribble face got mad and he got in his Hummer and drove through a crowded farmers market, killing everyone.  Scribble face was tried on 22 counts of first degree murder.  He was represented by Mark Geragos.  Mr. Geragos' defense for scribble face was that he was just a shoddily drawn cartoon done by a guy that only had photo shop for about 2 minutes and didn't know what most of the little doo-hickies did.  The judge didn't care and he sentenced scribble face to be erased in photo shop. 9:11:19 PM    comment []

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enjoy   One time I was a paralegal for this workaholic corporate lawyer who turned out to be a real prick.  For weeks he barely spoke to me as I did hour after hour of mind-numbing paper shuffling.  The case I was working on was a giant, class-action, racial discrimination suit against Motel 6.  Apparently there were hundreds, if not thousands of minorities who said that Motel 6 wouldn't rent them rooms because they were black, (even though this was the 1990s).  My job was to compile this giant data base of all the complaints.  Using this data base, my boss, the lawyer prick was supposed to find some holes in the case, and keep Motel 6 from ever paying a dime.  It didn't seem like very idealistic or spiritual work, but it was the only job I could find at the time.  Plus there were benefits, and paid vacation eventually. Anyway, I was just a law school drop out and had never had any training as a paralegal.  Because of this I really didn't know what I was doing.  My boss, the lawyer prick would say,       "I need you to do such and such."  And I would say, "Okay, but how do you do such and such?" And then he would say, "I don't know, but it needs to be done by tomorrow." Then he would leave and I would sit there in my tiny little office stressing about how I was going to get such and such done by tomorrow.  This misery went on for weeks and weeks. Then one afternoon the lawyer came into my office and said, "Mark, how about getting some lunch?" I was kind of touched that he finally wanted to rub elbows with me and go out to eat somewhere. Then my boss realized how I must have taken his question and he rephrased it. "That is to say, why don't you go out and pick up some lunch for me and the others partners.  Here, I'll give you a list." I ended up going to this fancy deli in Hyde Park and getting all these special order sandwiches and drinks and fruits, and various snacks. I brought all the food up to the conference room on the 17th floor in a big produce box.  My boss was in the middle of a meeting with some of the other partners. "You can put it over there," my boss said. As I was putting the box down I noticed that there were lots of little white spiders running around on the fruit and sandwiches.  I looked up at my boss and the other attorneys, but they were too busy to notice anything. "Enjoy," I said before I left the room.   (from Beautiful Loser, 2002.  A few weeks after I was fired, I heard that my ex-law firm lost the case defending Motel 6.  I don't know what they ended up paying.  Hopefully it was millions.)   5:29:31 PM    comment []

comic book ideals At some point during my childhood I got this idea that the human form should be just like those seen in comic books.  Men should have bulging chests and biceps and a six pack for abs.  Women should all have big tits and skinny waists and nice asses. As I got older I started to think it was kind of queer to be too into body building and working out too much, so I adjusted my ideal of the male form.  Men should still be fit and muscular, but not bulging.  As far as women, I was kind of shocked at first when I found that not all women's breasts maintain a perfect wonder woman shape when the bra comes off.  But then I got over it and pretty much dig any kind of female body that's not fat. Now that I'm thirty-three, I know its silly to obsess  too much about your body, but I'm still controlled to a great extent by the comic book ideals.  I work out everyday, but since my metabolism has slowed somewhat I have to eat less to keep from getting fat.  Sometimes I'll have a  huge calorie loaded meal, and then feel too tired or lazy (or hungover) to do my workout.  I will feel this roll of fat blobbing over my belt when I'm sitting on the couch.  The feeling is deeply repugnant to the comic book ideal, and I'll sit there scrunching my stomach in for hours while I'm sitting on my couch, eventhough nobody is around and nobody cares. 8:43:02 AM    comment []

deodorant I can never remember if I've already put my deodorant on in the morning.  Right when I go to put my shirt on I get this nagging doubt.  I run a finger along my armpit and sniff it.  Usually it smells like deodorant. Then I go on with the rest of my day. 8:13:09 AM    comment []

© Copyright 2004 Mark Michaels. Last update: 2/1/2004; 6:28:34 PM.