Up with Jesus, Down with the Devil

I have a new temporary hero. Heroes usually don�t have a �temporary� status, but for this mother I will make an exception. He will at least be my new hero until I forget about him or they stop playing his commercial. I am, of course, talking about the guy in the Burger King commercial who declares himself �SPIIIIIIIIIICYYYYYYY.� It�s the best thing I�ve heard in a long time.

Get out your shurikens folks because it�s time for some ass kickin�. This morning on the metro I had to deal with two bad dye jobs, several �extreme makeover� candidates, a unibrow that I thought was trying to attack me, and a mother wearing a white shirt and white silk tie. I almost had to get off the train. It was sensory overload. I can�t take it this early in the morning. It was bad enough I had to get ready in a hurry because I forgot we had to leave early and thus had no time to shave. I cannot tell you how much that upsets me. I can�t stand not shaving.

Because of my newly formed allergy to pollen I�ve been taking NyQuil as a sleep aid and will probably continue to do so until the bottle runs out because that shit will give you some whack dreams. I can�t remember the circumstances but I had to be awoken once again because I was shaking and slapping the side of my thigh with my hand. I guess I was either a) holding a box social/hootenanny or b) a member of a snake handling church in the Appalachians. I hope it was the latter of the two because I don�t much care for the square dancing as it limits what I can do on the dance floor. I can handle somethings but being compromised on the dance floor is not one of them. Either way NyQuil gets an A+. Thankfully there are no pointy or blunt objects near the bedside otherwise I fear for anyone who has to share the bed with me because I could be liable to pick something up and play �death to whoever�s closest to me.� I�m not sure I could garner the strength to pick up the lamp but I guess you never know. Don�t say I didn�t warn you.

I haven�t had my normal amount of caffeine yet today or my orange juice, which I have just started drinking again on a regular basis. The more acid the better I say. Why don�t we not eat too and see where that leaves us.

For some reason bizarre smells have been popping up in the most unexpected places recently. I was in target and as we all know targets basically all have the smell to them. It�s a cross between new carpet and mold. It�s not off-putting, just the way that Targets smell, at least on the East Coast. So, I walk in there the other day to realize that right by the make up aisles it reeks of skunk. How in the hell does Target smell like skunk? Does someone please want to riddle me this? Bizarre smell #2 came when I was doing dishes with a floral scented dish washing liquid. I had to specify the liquid because suddenly I smelled mint. I�m not talking mint flavored something; I�m talking fresh mint as in the herb. What the fuck? The third (turd) and final reek came to me this morning as I was climbing the Mt. Everest of escalators at the L�Enfant Plaza Metro station. I know there are bigger escalators in the area, but this one is pretty gargantuan. It smelled like someone had taken a dump right there. I had Paris flashbacks and I suppose this is the world preparing me once again for going back to the city I love. Flawless place to be but there are many a random �shit smell� that cannot be avoided. This may deter people from going but I mean, come on, the city is hundreds and hundreds of years old, cut it some slack for fucks sake.

That pretty much brings me up to speed. For some reason I�ve felt the need to say what color shirt I�m wearing today. Today is a cross between khaki and pistachio. It�s not quite tan; it�s not quite olive. I like to call it communist. It goes very well with my olive pants�and my possessed watch that can�t decide whether it wants to run or not. Little does it know that it�s getting a new battery today. Then we�ll see who�s the boss.

e.