something stinks

So, though I can't smell shit (even though I am part dog), apparently the city smells. Like shit. Or, maybe Mercaptan. Anyway, there is massive speculation as to why the city is permeating an odour of natural gas, and I have selected my favourite suggestions:

It could just be the scent of the Giants and Jets returning home.
— Posted by Tom

Wasn’t it Walt Whitman who wrote, “O Captain, Mercaptan”?

— Posted by bg

October 28th, 2005 there was a sweet smell permeating the city. It smelled like maple syrup. There was never a cause found there. Could the two city wide smells somehow be related? No news agency has mentioned any reference of this yet.
— Posted by Larry

I bet a big landfill had a bunch of gas develop in a pocket over time and it was finally released. In other words, New Jersey farted.
— Posted by Chad

Maybe too many New Yorkers exhaled simultaneously, and all that bad breath blew back in their faces at once. I live in Portland, Oregon. Nobody here has bad breath.
— Posted by J E

It started in NY and not in Jersey as some New Yorkers would want you to believe!
— Posted by Passion

Is Bush or Cheney in town?
— Posted by Morty

If Christy Whitman would just issue a statement,then I would be reassured
— Posted by rob

Anyway, one repeated assertion is that though we don't know what the smell is, we know it isn't dangerous. That's like a vegetarian saying something tastes like chicken. Let's be frank to those who deserve it, especially those of us that live within the blast radius.

Sigh. I wish I was in Philly.

Go Eagles!

Welcome to retirement, Tiki... we've got a used car dealership just waiting for your endorsement. Oh wait, they want David Akers. Sorry.

this piece is a bitch du jour. Go Eagles!

we have a supersonic toilet.

really, it is. if our toilet magically levitated and oriented itself horizontally in the upper atmosphere, it could literally propel itself, when flushed, to at or above the speed of sound. how do i know this? because when any toilet in our building is flushed, all 6 floors vibrate for about 3 1/2 minutes. the ripples are felt beneath the earth to lord kimbo down in the seventh circle of hell, also known as its capital city, Pandemonium (or Dis), also known as Carteret, New Jersey.

we also have a toaster that beeps.

aside from this news, i am strongly considering quitting my job sooner rather than later. it has no means of vertical ascension and is really far removed from my interests of the moment. i would like to savor any or all time that i have before i go (?) back to school focusing on what creative instincts i have left behind. being that i have never felt comfortable enough here to play music, i hope that some peoples' new presence here will help change that, and i hope to find a space conducive to the exercise of that talent, which many people lately have helped me realise is important to pursue. i feel really unworthy of some of the tremendous compliments i have received and have decided it would be regrettable and malignant to those who lavished them if i didn't at least try to do them justice.

so i guess this is in line with new years' resolutions.

i will get back in shape so i can run another marathon in 2007, in whichever city i end up in this fall.

i hope to take advantage of the creative resources this city has to offer, such as darkrooms and whatnot. i want to consolidate my creative output into one central resource.

i need to get out and meet people. and be more social here.

and i need to take things a day at a time.

Dick says, you can do it. Thanks, Dick.

This post is all about me, me, me.




It is also about toilets.

i hate fox news

tell it like it is. i don't care who you work for, you're talking to the former fucking president.

This post is a bitch du jour.




This post is a political tirade.

from the homeland of hitler to the city of I dont give a damn

here is a quick comparison of Vienna to Rome.

trains from airport to city centre
Vienna: walk around the corner from where you get your bag and down a set of stairs. very explicit instructions on buying ticket from a machine. train comes every 15 minutes and takes exactly 16 minutes to arrive at the hub of the metro system.

Rome: walk 9/10 of a mile from the baggage claim (without having to show anything at customs apparently including your passport) and choose the correct one of 3 machines to buy a ticket. if you dont happen to know that Roma Termini is the central station of the city, you are screwed, because there is also Roma Tiburtina, Roma Trastevere, and 3 other stations called Roma. once you buy the ticket you must validate it even though no one will ever check it or take it from you. the trains come about once an hour and take 45 minutes to get in the city. there is no air conditioning and you will not get a seat because yes, everyone else missed the last train, just like you. once you arrive you will be dropped off 15 minutes from the actual entrance to the station in the shittiest neighborhood in the entire city.

four star hotel
Vienna: balcony, marble bathtub, free breakfast and wireless internet, pleasant staff, air conditioning.

Rome: hair dryer.
hair dryer will not shut off.
hair dryer will heat your unairconditioned, tiny room to about 500 degrees.
friendly staff only if you are italian. shared internet on a 10 year old computer inside a former vatican war conference room. free breakfast at 6 AM.

i do not like rome. i am leaving rome tomorrow to go to the countryside where people will cook for me. yay.


This post is a bitch du jour.



This post is philosophical and introspective-y.

OVERCOME ME

OVERCOME ME
Originally uploaded by kwerfeldein.

this post is a bitch du jour. Well, kind of.

does germany really look like this?

take this job and...

only the superfriends can tell how i feel sometimes.

isn't global warming fantastic?

i think we have done the weather gods some terrible offense since they can't seem to figure out what to bestow upon us. yesterday i went running and had to take off my shirt since i got so warm. today the arctic wind is seeping in through our closed windows. anyway, here are some "telefotos" from an unseasonably warm day in washington.


This post is a bitch du jour. Duh.

grace

there is a woman who works at my office, across the hall from me. she is small and thin and advanced in years. the office she works in is chaotic and often filled with voracious banter. it's not unique - everyone around here complains. yet she always remains quiet and composed. she is mellow and sweet, like almonds swimming in honey. i have never seen her angry, nor complaining, and she has only the most quieting effect on everyone she passes. she would wish well on the devil himself.

yesterday i almost murdered the copier. i had my leg fully cocked and was about to kick my foot into oblivion when she strolled in and smiled and said, "boy, they're keepin' you busy." all i could do was smile, embarassed at the futility of my situation and enchanted by her becalming demeanor.

one day i found out her only son was shot dead by drug related gang gunfire.

i guess, for the least fortunate, with tragedy, grace remains.



This post is philosophical and introspective-y.




This post is also a bitch du jour.

i despise pat robertson. despise. D-E-S-P-I-S-E. people need to keep their narrow minds the hell out of our public schools. don't monopolize God, you asshole.

i propose creating an elaborate and perpetual hoax in order to thwart evangelicals. we have the technology. just round em all up and pretend like it's armageddon. give em white robes stained with lamb's blood and everything. then march them out to some deserted island someplace and say, chosen ones, welcome to paradise. see you in a thousand years. they'll be happy. we'll be happy. and the world will be a whole lot better off.

on the other hand, it's Armistice Day, also known as "Veteran's Day" in the U.S.A. except here in the U.S. it appears to be a holiday marked not by veneration, but by politicizing.

mr. bush, why do you use a day marking the end of a 'great' war to do some more warmongering?

i think about this poem every Armistice Day so i thought i would share it.
Because back home in Tennessee
I was a champeen shot,
They made a sniper outa me
An' ninety krouts I got:
I wish to Christ I'd not!

Athinkin' o' them blasted lives
It's kindo' blue I be;
Them lads no doubt had kids an' wives
An' happy home like me:
Them stiffs I still can see.

Aye, ninety men or more my hand
Has hustled down to hell;
They've loaded me with medals and
They tell me I done well:
A hero for a spell.

But Heaven help me to forget
Them fellow men I've slain,
The bubbling flow of blood I've let . . .
I'll never kill again:
To swat flies gives me pain.

Just let me dream when we will see
And end of soldierin';
When flags of famous victory
Will be amoulderin':
An' lethal steel an' battle blast
Be nightmares of the past.

Robert William Service (1874-1958)



This post is a bitch du jour.



This post is a political tirade.

dealing..

..with a transportation-impaired city and a massive decaffeinated headache.

thanks to septa it took an hour to cross the bridge this morning. and then i had to sit and listen to 2 grown men cry about how they can't afford to pay their taxes. but while i was supposed to be listening i came up with an interesting image.

perhaps democracy is not suitable to be implemented in every cultural context, much to the neocon's chagrin. it's like taking plato and putting him inside a chinese opium den and saying, hey plato, philosophize, baby.


this is me in traffic. look how unhappy i am!










This post is philosophical and introspective-y.


This post is a bitch du jour.

it's so cold i don't remember what warm feels like.

ugh, this is so lame. connecticut sucks.





This post is a bitch du jour.