SNL - Still manages to be relevant

I've added the Palin/Clinton skit to the side bar for now and have added it to this post in perpetuity (or however long NBC keeps it up).

Though Obama canceled his appearance due to Hurricane Ike, they still got Tina Fey to come back for the perfect skit.

I, like apparently thousands of other people, could see the resemblance right away. And as expected, Tina Fey did a bang up job! The part when Fey starts striking poses is too funny. The whole thing was funny. Good job!

Security!

I was pleasantly surprised last week to discover that my landlord does care about the residents of his building. Or it could just be that he wants to mitigate any liability due to the previous total lack of security, by installing a security camera in the lobby. Though people still don't need a key to enter the building thru the side, it's something. At least now there will be a video record of the brutal muggings to come as the economy continues it's nose-dive.

Now if he were really interested in my safety, he'd install a light and an alarm on the roof door. I haven't been up there recently. Maybe he's done something up there too. But I can plainly see it's not a light. A cheap and effective light would make me feel a lot safer coming home at 2am than all the security cameras in the world.

My new pick is going fairly well despite the fact that I'm stuck doing three trips on the B60. I'm just glad to be out of Williamsburg. Greenpoint hipsters are a bit more grown up and don't think it's cool to all dress the same and ride skateboards in the middle of the street.

I must have ADD. I can't seem to keep concentrated on this blog for more than a couple of paragraphs. That's it. I'm done.

Die Hipster Scum!

Good God, how I want to buy this tee shirt. I know.... it's ironic that it was sold at Urban Outfitters. But the way I've been feeling this whole pick, I want to wear it right in the middle of Williamsburg and scream at all those grown ass men on skateboards.

I've come to understand why I dislike them so. They behave like large, slow children. A bad combination of naivete and a cloistered 'liberal' education. They ask questions like, "Does the bus start all by itself?" And they also ask 'are we there yet' questions incessantly. It's really like driving a yellow school bus. I'm waiting for a group of 'em to start singing 'The Wheels On The Bus'.

The chick who asked about how the bus starts also thought it was hilarious that I would be looking at an Ikea catalog. Noooo.... I'm not hip enough to move in her world....

It's fucking Ikea for crying out loud! Cheap Swedish crap marketed to the masses. I AM one of those masses. But I guess she assumed that I wasn't part of their demographic, being black and working class and all. She might be surprised that I read books other than ones written by Zane.

Fucking hipster scum. Die.

*Phew* I feel a bit better.

That Damn B61

I can't quite figure out why, but I really don't like doing the B61. I usually like long runs because they keep me from getting bored. But despite it taking an hour or so to go end to end, it bores me silly. Maybe I crave the "excitement" of having to deal with the jackass drivers in Middle Village. Maybe. But it would be nice to not have an accident for the rest of this year.

Then again, it may be the people I don't care for. Self-important hipsters with their jazz hats and skinny jeans; arrogant, demanding eastern Europeans; or that random annoying French dude I picked up day before yesterday.

You don't know how much I miss the South Americans and Chinese on the Q58. I'd never been thanked so much for doing my job in my life, on that line. And it's not that I need constant praise for doing a simple job, it's that they acknowledged my humanity. I wasn't merely some automaton that's powered down and left on the bus over-night. I was a living breathing being that warranted at least some level of eye contact.

Or then again, maybe Robin's right.... I need to be worshiped. But then who doesn't? :)

Karma karma karma chameleon

Okay, now I'm obsessed. I've joined as a fan of Phelps on Facebook. I'm one step away from buying a poster and putting it on the wall over my bed. Fun fact: Michael Phelps is double jointed in the knees.
I could pull him like taffy. I could climb him like Everest. I could.... Okay, enough.

Today was pretty neat in a weird way. It almost started out badly with some asshole trying to express his road-roid-rage by playing chicken with my bus.

First, he cut me off from the right as a truck backed into a loading dock. Fine. Asshole cut me off. You'd think that would be the end of it. Nooooo.... He stops short in front of me. This is a common tactic of assholes doing asshole things in front of the bus. I pull over to the right, faking him out. As he swings right to stop short in front of me yet again, I pull left and turn onto Rust Street.

This is where the dumbass goes badly wrong. Now he pursues me by driving on the wrong side of the street. He's weaving to and fro trying to push me over like we're in Mad Max or something. Next thing I know, the cops pull up behind him, lights flashing and pull his dumbass over. Utter, utter perfection. I could have kissed that cop full on the lips.

The rest of my day was gravy. I had an empty bus on two occasions. I didn't pick up any of my regulars. I was riding around so light, I started to get a bit concerned. But I was dead on time-wise. The weather was nice and cool, my bus was good, and Karma bit a schmuck right in the ass. All in all it was a good day.

The Olympics

I tend not to be a big sports fan. But the Olympics is a whole other story. I could watch the Men's Swimming all day long... like watching fish in an aquarium. Hot, sexy fish in an aquarium.

Or like G-rated porn.... if there is such a thing. And it doesn't matter what nationality... they all have the exact same torsos. *sigh* It makes me wish I could sculpt.

I'd like to take up swimming. It's just that I find it so cardiovascularly difficult to do. I end up getting so winded that I think I'm going to take in a lungful of water and drown. There's that and the havoc the chlorine would wreak on my hair.

Excuses, excuses....

And Away We Go....

This blog will wind up being more therapeutic for me than entertaining for you. Then again, you may find my psychosis quite entertaining. I know my therapist does. It's a regular yuck-fest every Thursday.

My current (and most recurrent) problem of late has been how to get people to do what I want without resorting to screaming at them at the top of my lungs. But it's soooo hard not to sometimes. For example: my neighbors keep leaving trash in the hallways. Do you really have to ask people NOT to leave trash in the hallways when you pay damn near a G for a crap-tastic studio in Woodside? Apparently you do.

Ms. Passive-Aggressive (yeah, that's me) placed a giant water bug in front of the door of the latest offender. Surprisingly, it only worked for a week. I know I was none to happy to find the water bug in my kitchen. I thought that I'd share the feeling. But damned if it didn't work. Today I'm trying a sign.
The sign says, "Attention Neighbors: Please do not leave your trash in the hallways. Not only does it violate the NYC Fire Code (combustible trash in common areas), it is a filthy practice that promotes the spread of roaches and mice in the building....."

The next and final step will be "the talking to". I can guarantee you that it'll be doomed to degenerate into screaming and threats of retaliation, so I really don't want to talk to my neighbors in person about this at all.

Wish me luck.