...and i am not a superhero

rethinking staying in shape. what am i doing? am i trying to stay thin and pretty in a land of thin and prettys? we'll all be dead fat bald dead assholes anyway.

the business traveler: ashtray underpants

this photo is not a hoax! you can question this picture, but you cannot question my belief. this is real, and its in your town, torrance.




i myself have ashed on my underpants, but never imagined this as a possibility. the words "next level" come to mind. you may not be able to tell at first, but please take my word.

a pair of underpants. in an ashtray. god bless this hotel for encouraging this beauty and for housing me, a grateful guest!

the business traveler: stench of a mediocre man

the guy at the end of my row on the airplane had, like, five little bottles of vodka. he insisted we share the tray table in between us like he was my big brother or something. and dude was working hard under that overhead light. a dedicated employee...the polo shirt and suitcoat that set us apart are extra large, my friend. hope the wife back in manchester or braintree or wherever the fuck you're from really appreciates you. and i hope mine'll appreciate me when i take your place in those comfy, white, extra wide sneakers someday.

i had no airplane nap. ended up sleeping "rough" last night. passed out on the hotel room couch watching one of the japanese channels. no washing up took place before i got to work this morning as all my toiletries are kept in my desk drawer at work. its been, what? 8 or 9 years and i still smell like the Rat. b.o., cigarettes, the halitosis of a 17 year old armchair anarchist and an undefinable scent of third rate punk rock.

so, the status report: i'm somewhere between a drunk analysis of sales figures on excel and a recitation of crass lyrics in between hauls on basics.