Just Stuff and Lots of It

I haven't made much of an effort to take good pictures lately. I was at Seaport Village on Saturday and saw two seals caught in the harbour, swimming in circles, but they were too far away for a good picture. I almost got a good picture of a bright red parrot with an aircraft carrier in the background, but the parrot turned its head at the last moment and I didn't feel like trying again.

Maybe it's just that I feel like I'm spinning too many plates. My focus is frustratingly diluted. Maybe it was a mistake to start working on a comic while I'm still taking Japanese, but I've been feeling the itch too much. Not that I've been able to devote a lot of time to it.

I bought a ticket last week for a Morrissey concert the day after my Japanese final. It'll be the first concert I've ever gone to alone, which is sort of exciting. I wonder if I can somehow smuggle a flask in. They're selling alcohol at the event but they don't even let you bring in water bottles. Maybe it's just as well, I wouldn't want to have to get up to pee too much. I have cheap seats, though, so I guess it's not like I'd have to part the human sea every time I needed to get to the restroom. I could wear a diaper like Richard Christie, from The Howard Stern Show, does when he goes to concerts.

I've completely switched from listening to Howard Stern to listening to Nick and Artie. I have a feeling working on a comic is going to be a lot easier with Artie Lange to listen to. There's something so cold and high strung about the Stern Show now. It's not just that he spends so much time talking about America's Got Talent now, it's that he seems so careful. I think I maybe ought to have seen this coming after hearing him talk about meeting Barbra Streisand and really getting along with her.

Barbra Streisand and Mel Gibson head up my list of people I'm disappointed in seeing some of my favourite stars hanging out with. I just read Mel Gibson's in talks to be in the Machete sequel. I don't understand why people even want to talk to him. Am I a hypocrite for being bothered less by the fact that Danny Trejo spent eleven years in prison? Maybe. I actually find myself more willing to forgive armed robbery than Gibson's general douchiness.

Twitter Sonnet #378

Horseshoe rain drips on the suede telescope.
Nude pages show behind the blue cheetah.
Taxi seals circle the bay without soap.
Anticlockwise reprieve came to Hatta.
Suits met cold men for deep fried yak sushi.
High heat cookies crumble atop the sky.
Memory wrecks the rote weather banshee.
Shins can send silver snake message pie.
Purple shirts change the flying season bean.
Bathroom salsa gives the wrong idea.
More money can make a million men lean.
A dame's not an onomatopoeia.
Candy came from the vending machine shade.
Dorito tacos make stomachs say, "Quaid . . ."