Monthly Archives: June 2008

I spent a chunk of the evening being interviewed by another blogger (link to come when it goes live), instead of thinking of something clever (or not) to write. Instead, I shall now cop out and cut-and-paste a conversation I had with a friend who lives in Northern California, and is surrounded by fires:

Nick: … the fires suck. The smoke is so thick in our town you can only see for about 400 yards. It’s so bad in fact that it stings my eyes and hurts my throat and lungs… and this coming from a kid who smokes and works in refineries for a living. Man… think how all of the other people who haven’t been through such training and conditioning for this event must feel? Good thing I prepared! And to think I actually told my smoke inhalation trainer that he was crazy!

Me: (link to news story about 800+ fires burning, sound bytes from Gov. Schwarzenegger, etc.)

Nick: Great. Where will I live when Nor-Cal burns down? What will [friend] do with his Nor-Cal leg tattoos when Nor-Cal burns down? How do the firefighters get anything accomplished if they’re suffering from the munchies due to all of the Nor-Cal weed burning down? What will [annoying housepest] smoke if all the weed in Nor-Cal is burned down? What will all of the hippies use as motivation to write their crappy hippie music if all of the weed in Nor-Cal is destroyed? Has Arnold even thought about these topics?

Me: Oh shit, you’re right, it’s HUMBOLDT! I hadn’t even thought of that. Humboldt used to mean one thing to me, but now it means another (Humboldt Fog cheese from Cypress Grove!). Ah yes, I’ve aged.

Nick: Humboldt, Mendocino, Trinity Counties… The Emerald Triangle.

Me: Hey, maybe it’s a conspiracy! These fires weren’t caused by lightning at all! They were caused by DEA agents who were tired of the whole personal-property-requires-a-warrant dealio!

Nick: You could be on to something… Actually you can imagine my concern when I heard that over 700 fires were all started by lightning. That’s my cat’s name… and come to think of it, tonight was the first time he’s been home in over a week. I did see a very small DEA jacket stashed in the bushes yesterday… I do think I smell a conspiracy.

Me: I don’t think that’s what you’re smelling…

Oooh, isn’t it exciting? No? Well, I’m excited. And away we go:

Giraffe print ballet flats. Now, whenever I hang out with giraffes, I’m that much harder to spot.

White winkle pickers with a kitten heel. I haven’t worn these yet, but what a hoot! Thrift store find.

Snakeprint slingbacks. Also found at a thrift store.

Raspberry T-strap peep toes. Well, they’re black with a metallic raspberry halftone print on them. Scored from the 80% off rack at DSW, they go perfectly with a vintage-look raspberry satin bias-cut dress I have.

I ordered a pair of lucite wedges that were just a little too small, and Nova ordered these, which turned out to be a lot too large. We traded. They’re too big, even on me. Wacky sizing.

Summery white-and-linen(ish) cork wedges. Thrown in as a bonus during the lucite shoe trade mentioned above. The white has a slight snakeskin print, and the linen color is actually faux suede. I’ve worn these shoes three or four times, and just about worn them out! The heels are starting to compress, and the buckle on one shoe is almost completely torn out. They’re not quality, but they are comfortable.

Red patent ankle-strap peep toes. I bought these specifically to go with a BRIGHT RED belt, which I wound up giving to my friend Megan. Yes, I have other red shoes, but they’re all a darker red. The clashing, it was no good. My Ballpark Frank-size ankles means that I have to wear these on the loosest setting, and you can see how snug that ankle strap still is. So, not appropriate for the office, not good for walking around anywhere. I don’t know what to do with them, but aren’t they fun?

This pair of Pedro García “Noa” pumps isn’t in my collection. I tried them on at Nieman Marcus, where they were on sale for close to $200. Homey don’t play that. Actually, quite a steal as they list for closer to $400. (Insert heart attack here.) I apologize for the quality of the photo, but it was taken with my cell phone and I just couldn’t keep still in these shoes!

George Carlin died on Sunday, of a heart attack. I hope the ’net is soon flooded with waves of: Shit, piss, fuck, cunt, cocksucker, motherfucker, and tits.

Mr. Carlin, you did good. You showed us our foolish, mortal selves. You taught us to laugh at ourselves, and maybe to look a bit deeper. I’ll miss you.

EDIT: It has come to my attention that some of my readers are unfamiliar with The Seven Words You Can’t Say On Television. I have included it below, but be warned that it is NSFW. Or network TV.