I had to run back into school tonight, and so I took the last 7 hardcovers with me and put them on the free book cart in the foyer of the main library on campus; when I came back again just now, they were gone. I have now distributed to the wider university community 148 of 149 of the trashy books left in my care.
At the gym two Jewish sophomores with huge legs and gigantic bouncing tits were on ellipticals next to me. The one was saying how she came back to her apartment after the weekend and the only thing in her fridge was gefilte fish and ginger ale.
This afternoon I ran into a French graduate student from my program. I invited him to midget wrestling on Thursday, like I tend to do nowadays, only when I did that, he got this immediate, stricken look on his face, and cried out softly in spite of himself, "Oh no!" I felt like shit, so I was like, "Oh no, we're not going up there to watch, but to protest, wanna come?", but I don't think he believed me.
Monday, October 1, 2007
Got a haircut today (part I of like III or IV): A new hair-cutter person.
I got a haircut again today. I swung by the salon on my way to the grocery store yesterday and made an appointmet, dropping off a piece of banana bread and a piece of pumpkin bread and a piece of angel food cake in the process -- I had passed a youth group bakesale table a block up and thought I'd get some for the people at the salon -- but when I came in today, the Japanese owner was just leaving because she was feeling sick -- she put her hands together and bowed at me like a namaste when she ran into me on her way out -- and since Tennille only works on Tuesdays, instead my barber was this mid-30s-looking black guy named Diezel.
When he was cutting my hair and I was telling him what lengths of razor to use, I started telling him about how my dad cuts his own hair really short using some clipper he bought somewhere, but this summer four days before a friend of mine's wedding which he was going to, he started cutting his hair without putting the guard on and shaved down to the skin this huge swath of hair above his right ear, and so ended up wearing a baseball to the reception and tilting the bill down over his ear.
Diezel laughed, and then asked me how my dad wears his hair, so I told him how he has this big walrus moustache, and how when people ask him why he wears it that way, he says it's so if he has a nice meal, he can suck it the next day and remember it exactly. Diezel started laughing really hard at that, way too hard for how funny it is, so I asked him what was up, and he told me how just this past week a barber two doors down was telling him that he wears his moustache so that when he goes down on a lady, for the rest of the day he can scrunch up his lip (which Diezel demonstrated, smiling at the same time) and remember.
Diezel then told me that my dad probably means that, but softens the story up, which made me wonder whether he meant that my dad has been eating out my mom or has been getting some on the side. He then was saying how his friend the barber drinks liquor or chews some strong gum if he sees his woman later in the day, so she doesn't notice the smell; he said he doesn't wash with soap, because his woman would probably recognize the smell of a different soap, and you can't explain that away by saying you were playing ball with your friends or something like that, since even with that you'd be going home and taking a shower there and would smell like your own soap.
This was all going on, by the way, in the Japanese spa-styled salon, with the Japanese women in the background talking to each other and gently laughing from time to time with each other, as you often see Japanese women do.
When he was cutting my hair and I was telling him what lengths of razor to use, I started telling him about how my dad cuts his own hair really short using some clipper he bought somewhere, but this summer four days before a friend of mine's wedding which he was going to, he started cutting his hair without putting the guard on and shaved down to the skin this huge swath of hair above his right ear, and so ended up wearing a baseball to the reception and tilting the bill down over his ear.
Diezel laughed, and then asked me how my dad wears his hair, so I told him how he has this big walrus moustache, and how when people ask him why he wears it that way, he says it's so if he has a nice meal, he can suck it the next day and remember it exactly. Diezel started laughing really hard at that, way too hard for how funny it is, so I asked him what was up, and he told me how just this past week a barber two doors down was telling him that he wears his moustache so that when he goes down on a lady, for the rest of the day he can scrunch up his lip (which Diezel demonstrated, smiling at the same time) and remember.
Diezel then told me that my dad probably means that, but softens the story up, which made me wonder whether he meant that my dad has been eating out my mom or has been getting some on the side. He then was saying how his friend the barber drinks liquor or chews some strong gum if he sees his woman later in the day, so she doesn't notice the smell; he said he doesn't wash with soap, because his woman would probably recognize the smell of a different soap, and you can't explain that away by saying you were playing ball with your friends or something like that, since even with that you'd be going home and taking a shower there and would smell like your own soap.
This was all going on, by the way, in the Japanese spa-styled salon, with the Japanese women in the background talking to each other and gently laughing from time to time with each other, as you often see Japanese women do.
Another 11 hardcovers...
...left out on the free book cart at the main campus library today! Nothing special among them, though.
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Plans for Thursday.
A bar downtown is having midget wrestling, no cover and $1 Miller Lite drafts. On one hand, I think it's morally wrong, but on the other hand, I really, really want to see it, and it's cheap.
More on the lady barbers...
From Carl F.H. Henry's hagiography-like history "The Pacific Garden Mission", 8th ed., p. 115, in regards to how the famous Chicago (fundamentalist) mission changed locations in the early 20th century to the south edge of downtown:
The street outside seemed like a suburb of hell. It was the main artery of the lodging-house district, where 5,000 men slept nightly. Flophouses and taverns were everywhere. Burlesque shows of the vilest kind played to crowds nightly. The labyrinth of lady barbers, pawn brokers, gambling dens, indicated man's extremity and God's opportunity.
Also, on p. 145, again in reference to the new location:
Outside, the stench of perspiring hot dogs, the swing music of cabaret bands, the parade of unmasked hell itself merge into a caterwaul of depraved humanity. Here is where teh mission has deliberately chosen to prove its mettle. There is no running away from sin. Rather, sheathed in the full armor of God, its testimony plucks the fiery darts of Satan from many a pierced target. It is a struggle against mighty forces, as David Anderson, in the November 17, 1940 edition of the Chicago Tribune, writes:
"Competition is tough on South State street, but the old Pacific Garden Mission still does a thriving business in men's souls.
"Night and day thousands of homeless men -- bums, hoboes in from the wheat fields, ragged pan-handlers, crippled up, mumbling, shuffling men -- limp down South State street from Van Buren to 11th street and then plod back again. It's a parade of perpetual motion second only to West Madison street. Where they go, whence they come, is nobody's business and nobody cares much.
"Under the gaudy marquees of the burlesque shows they stop to look at the posters of hefty blondes. Or, they gather at the open doors of the tatoo parlors and watch the artist tatoo a spread eagle on the chest of a sailor. Sometimes as they move past the barber shops they wink at the lady barbers..."
Even though this is the recent past and I think I understand all the other cultural references, this "lady barbers"-reference thing makes me realize how past the past is, and how it's really not the present. This reference was floating in the air just sixty years ago and means nothing to us now.
The street outside seemed like a suburb of hell. It was the main artery of the lodging-house district, where 5,000 men slept nightly. Flophouses and taverns were everywhere. Burlesque shows of the vilest kind played to crowds nightly. The labyrinth of lady barbers, pawn brokers, gambling dens, indicated man's extremity and God's opportunity.
Also, on p. 145, again in reference to the new location:
Outside, the stench of perspiring hot dogs, the swing music of cabaret bands, the parade of unmasked hell itself merge into a caterwaul of depraved humanity. Here is where teh mission has deliberately chosen to prove its mettle. There is no running away from sin. Rather, sheathed in the full armor of God, its testimony plucks the fiery darts of Satan from many a pierced target. It is a struggle against mighty forces, as David Anderson, in the November 17, 1940 edition of the Chicago Tribune, writes:
"Competition is tough on South State street, but the old Pacific Garden Mission still does a thriving business in men's souls.
"Night and day thousands of homeless men -- bums, hoboes in from the wheat fields, ragged pan-handlers, crippled up, mumbling, shuffling men -- limp down South State street from Van Buren to 11th street and then plod back again. It's a parade of perpetual motion second only to West Madison street. Where they go, whence they come, is nobody's business and nobody cares much.
"Under the gaudy marquees of the burlesque shows they stop to look at the posters of hefty blondes. Or, they gather at the open doors of the tatoo parlors and watch the artist tatoo a spread eagle on the chest of a sailor. Sometimes as they move past the barber shops they wink at the lady barbers..."
Even though this is the recent past and I think I understand all the other cultural references, this "lady barbers"-reference thing makes me realize how past the past is, and how it's really not the present. This reference was floating in the air just sixty years ago and means nothing to us now.
Two things from yesterday: cell phone, coffee.
The black lady next to me on the commuter train, who put her two kids in the next seat up so she could keep an eye on them, had a martini graphic as the wallpaper on her cell phone.
I got a new coffee can of a brand I've never seen before -- "Brown Gold".
I got a new coffee can of a brand I've never seen before -- "Brown Gold".
N.B. -- REVISED TWO POSTS AGO.
I realized after leaving for the weekend that I had left out from two posts ago what the GNC guy was whistling.
I could have totally just revised this without letting anyone know, but that would cause two problems:
1) I would be rewriting the historical record.
2) No one one read it.
So, I'm posting about this now.
I could have totally just revised this without letting anyone know, but that would cause two problems:
1) I would be rewriting the historical record.
2) No one one read it.
So, I'm posting about this now.
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