There’s not much to say by way of intro this week. I’ve got a lot of irons in the fire, like always. Like always, they will probably amount to nothing. But it’s a good thing to keep trying. If you don’t, you’ll get nowhere.
On to the questions.
We’re hosting a dinner party for our in-laws and only have spoons. What do we do?!
Reevaluate your life decisions. If you still only have spoons, you better make some chili or ice cream sundaes you damn weirdo.
So, like, what’s the deal with healing crystals?
Oh fuck. Where do I even begin? I guess I’ll start with the most important thing to know. They don’t do shit on their own.
That said, I’ve always had something of a soft spot for crazy hippy girls, so I’m not against this nonsense. I just don’t think it works, except maybe aesthetically and psychologically. If they help you relax during a guided meditation or whatever, I guess go for it. But they aren’t going to cure anything.
Should I embrace my boyfriend’s new mustache? I kind of love it.
Here is the mustache in question. It was grown by Handsome-ass Pat Collins.
I think Pat looks like goth Ned Flanders. I support this look and think you should to.
If you could call yourself five years ago and had 30 seconds, what would you say?
I’d give myself as many Powerball numbers and Superbowl results I could rattle off in 30 seconds. And then hope no butterfly effect nonsense destroyed the world.
Is there a movie with a message that you completely misunderstood?
Not that I can think of. But I did realize I completely misremembered the end of Walt Disney’s The Fox and the Hound. For some reason I recalled the hound being killed accidentally by the hunter, with the fox going to live a lonely life in the woods.
What is the biggest scam you’ve ever seen?
A few years ago I had one of those shitty manual labor jobs you can get without a high school diploma. It was for a concert venue. Union trucks would dump concert equipment off on a loading dock. Scrubs like myself would push it inside where union riggers would install it.
None of the people that did my job were unionized. I asked some of the union guys how I could get in a union and they completely ignored me, offering zero help. Workers united, right?
Anyway, even the nobodies like me got a day’s pay and the option to sit in the cheap seats and watch whatever show we were putting on. Except once. Televangelist Benny Hinn had a “no crew allowed” rule on his appearance at the UNO Lakefront Arena. With the amount of trailer park blasphemy my co-workers committed setting the stage up, I guess I have to see his point.
His stage was super weird. It had four A/C units on it to keep the stage extra cold. I’ve never heard of anyone doing this before. He had a truck full of collection buckets. I remember loading it to the front of the stage and knowing what they were immediately. I couldn’t believe how many of them there were. There were more blinding lights aimed at the audience than the stage I can only imagine this all had some sort of mind control effect on the crowd.
Anyway, these dudes are the worst. They fly into a town, preach, collect money, and leave. Now let’s be clear here, I’m not anti-church or preaching or any of that. But I think all churches should be deeply rooted in a their city and held accountable for performing work that has a direct benefit to the community it exists in. I find the concept of multi-national tax free churches to be completely abhorrent.
If you take a dollar in Oakland. It should stay in Oakland. Same for any church or any city. There’s nothing worse than a slick pastor with a diamond ring.
What is the craziest thing you have ever said to your boss, with or without getting fired?
Typically I like to stay off my boss’ radar. I can be counted on for complete honesty, but in my experience, it’s not that great to be super familiar with people over you (there are some exceptions). Do your work and go home.
There’s a real answer to this question though. One night I took some acid at about 2am, thinking it would peak early and I’d be able to hold down a 6am shift at the coffee shop I worked. This was not a great plan. LSD is unpredictable and I experienced no effects until almost the moment I punched the clock. I actually thought I had gotten beat on the acid and bought fake shit. Oh how I wish that was the case.
I spent the next 30 minutes doing 5 minutes worth of putting chairs outside the cafe. It was a total mess. Tables all over. Chairs every which way. I came clean with my shift manager and she put me on a simple task, grinding coffee. It got pretty much everywhere because I just started grinding beans without the filter underneath to catch them.
I excused myself from duty and walked home. When I got in the door, the phone was ringing. I picked it up and my boss, the legendary Jerry Ropollo, was on the other line.
“Buddy, where are you. It’s Saturday. I need you.”
“I’ve been poisoned Jerry.”
“What? Poisoned by who?”
“I poisoned me. It was a mistake. I was hoping I’d be dead, but I made it, and now I’m super high.”
“We’ve all been there buddy. Just come back in and I won’t fire you.”
By the time I got back to the cafe, there was a deep line. I was still high as shit, but able to hold down washing dishes and clearing tables. For some reason all currency looked the same to me, so I couldn’t operate the register. By the time my shift ended I had a third wind and spent the rest of the day drinking Miller High Life on the porch.
Summer in New Orleans was magick back then.
How should I handle it if my ex gets involved with a new woman?
Hey, I have a mean streak and I understand hatred and vengeance, but you shouldn’t even be thinking about your ex unless you have kids with them. They got a new woman? So the fuck what? Even a dog’s asshole gets a little sunshine from time to time.