SHOUT OUT!

My days are made so much better by these, you would think that they are unnecessary but when its laundry day and you are stuck with these the difference is clear and a lot less chaffed.

And now more recently my days are made brighter by these, GOD DAMN! THESE ARE THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD! It has been along time since eating something has made me smile when I am all alone. Not cheap mind you.

Trapped in the closet

Today, one of the highlights, other than the phone ringing several times at 4:30am saying they need me at 5:30am instead of the route I was previously assigned to which started at 9:00am was being three stops from finishing the newly assigned route under slept and under enthused and being hit with the sudden and very very very urget urge to pee. Now I don't know about ya'll but when I have to go (ahem! small bladder syndrome is the not the ideal condition for this job) there is little else I can think about, let alone do. So, being the slow moving quick thinker that I am I dig through the recycle can and look for a container of which no one has ever put their mouth to, preferably one with a wide mouth that requires very little aim precision because at this point I am shaking. Salvation turns out to be an old parmesean cheese shake 'em jar. I locked my self in the janitors closet, removed the nasty ass gloves and removed the issue my body was having with my brain. Feeling proud like never before I slink out of the closet cursing the metaphor with the warm jar tucked under my arm getting warmer.

There was a time a few weeks ago when I had to pee so bad, very similar situation as above but this time I was inside a nice building that was built shortly after the earth quake (huge wood plank floors), when I went searching for my urinal aide I was thinking jar, juice bottle, plastic bag.... what I found was a blender. Using the plastic carafe, hiding in the dark corner of this classic building the feeling of pride mixed with elation was quickly "pissed on" by the sudden and disturbing discovery that the carafe was being tossed out for a reason, it no longer held liquid. Thankfully there is much worse to touch my boots than my own urine. Now all I need is for Madonna to drink it in the shower.

THE HORRAH!

Imagine my surprise. 6:30am hustling a can around a tight confined space to get it outside (human-garbage-tetris) when the rubber rain shoe you have been dragging about beneath the wheels of the can and your own boots in the half-dark turns out to be a pigeon. Really? Not awesome.

Let yourself be knowed.

After neglecting all three of you with desk jobs that still read this clap-trap for so long I figured that the quickest way for me to highlight some new scores/finds (because not everything that I have drug home has been a keeper...) would be a short video clip.

While she-mom is off getting her hair coifed (me, personally, I have opted to let my appearance/self go, as having a baby tends to let the gawking strangers look past my serial killer-tweaked out trucker look while I scarf down iced coffee and vegan baked goods at the local farmers market and allow them focus on the kid with the dirty toe nails never once thinking thoughts of neglect.) (Jesus, that was a long aside) (do you even remember what I was going on about?) (better re-read some shit to get back in the flow, I move quick for a slow person... ... ... ...), like I was saying, mom gone, dad here and instead of paying the bills like I told her I would be doing (one armed mind you) I am here shooting snuff films of crap found in the trash. Enjoy.

We are off to watch Superbad (this will in fact be my third screening) where we can drink beer, bring babies, eat pizza and put our feet up on someone else's couch.
Ahh the benefits of working a shift that starts at 8:30am as opposed to 4am.

And tomorrow through Friday if you are downtown and/or south of market look for the asshole in the day glow top strutting his stuff, listening to books on tape, while collecting city cans full of dog shit, bum piss, your left over coffee and all the weeklies from last week because they get dumped in the corner cans when replaced with the new issues. Not a score for recycling Mr. Mayor.