Poison Something

I have poison oak, sumac, or ivy. I'm not sure what it is but it's on both of my forearms and my right bicep. It itches and it burns and I'm typing this without resting my arms on the desk. My arms look pretty gnarly too. There's this weird star pattern on my left forearm too and that makes me think that possibly this is an alien infection of some sort and that any minute I will begin manifesting special abilities not found in normal man. Kind of like the backwards number 4 that's imprinted on the right side of my scalp just above my right side burn. Whenever I get a close haircut (high and tight, white walls, what have you) and I look in the mirror, I notice very clearly the number four. Is this some kind of message? Why is the number four engraved in my head? Why is it backwards? What does it mean? It's probably nothing. It's probably just some natural accident that just looks like a reversed number 4. But sometimes when I'm in bed, just before I go to sleep it starts to burn and glow.

Okay that last part wasn't true. But how cool would that be if it was? It's pretty weird though just like me getting poison whatever on my arms. So I guess that's how I deal with these odd things. I attribute them to a government conspiracy or aliens wishing to give a chosen human super powers. Hey it works in the comics! Unfortunately, I still itch.

Responses to my blog

From now on I would like to request all responses to my blog be in Haiku format. This will facilitate my ability to read the endless amount of replies I receive almost on a daily basis to my blog. Also it will enable you to pack so much more emotional content into your replies, while keeping them short enough for me to get through them and still have time to ponder their endless meanings.

Thank you

The Management

Corporate Emo

Emo is the new corporate rock. It's time we all faced the facts and found something else to horde away from the masses of brainwashed teenie boppers who drive these songs to the top of the 40. I once heard an emo girl, in a desperate effort to keep emo emo, call into a radio station and beg the DJ not to play Bright Eyes anymore. Her efforts failed. Her reasoning for the anti-request was that the artist known as Bright Eyes was becoming too popular and she wanted it to stop so that she and the select few of his early fans could still claim that ever important musical moral high ground when comparing obscure bands. As if to be able to say, "oh you've never heard of Bright Eyes, well I guess you don't really know emo then."

I laughed when I heard this. Don't you people know it's over. Emo, the once underground answer to grunge is dead. Everyone gushes their their honesty in song now and calls it emo. The minor 7th chords, the black hair, the women's jeans, the "I don't care about making money" facade, is over. Emo has officially sold out. Deal with it. Dashboard went electric for crying out loud! It's Dillon all over again! Emo is the new Journey. There I said it. It's time to find a new underground musical genre that truly emulates the you that no one knows or appreciates. It's time to ditch the women's jeans. Wash the black dye out of your hair. Lose the studded belts and bracelets. Buy some decent shoes. Wash your face and smile for a change. I have the answer for your musical needs. It's time to go back to the music that has always represented you and the things you stand for. The music that lets you be yourself and appreciates you for who you are. The music that will never go corporate because it's so underground everyone has forgotten about it. You've probably told people you've heard of this kind of music so you can sound like the well rounded and enlightened critic you portray to all of your friends and those you meet for the first time at emo concerts. It's called Jazz and it's the next big thing. It's as underground as you can go. And while it might get a lot of air time on public radio, once you start listening to John Coltrane and Miles Davis, you will never go back. Emo's got nothing on this, the original emo.

Utah is trapped in the 80’s. One of my brother in laws once said to me, “even when it was the 60’s Utah was trapped in the 80’s.” This is the same brother in law who when he suspects someone might by homosexual, first asks them if they’re German, “German or Gay?” But it’s true. Utah is and will forever be trapped in the 80’s. Why?

Because the 80’s was Utah’s decade. Everything that put Utah on the map happened during the 80’s. The LDS church reached it’s pinnacle of fame during the 80’s. BYU won the national championship during the 80’s. Some of BYU Football’s most famous players played for the University during the 80’s. Utah has the most 80’s themed radio stations. People here still dress like the 80’s. It’s like the state just got tired of being fashionable as fashion continued on. I think that happens with old people. You know, you reach a point where your clothes aren’t wearing out, they’re still in good shape, you’re not growing anymore, so why bother buying new clothes? Suddenly you’re a living time capsule for the fashion of your chosen decade.

My wife says I peaked in the 90’s and I’ve been trapped there ever since. Well I’m sorry if I still wear my Dave Matthews Band and Phish T-shirts; or my baggy carpenter jeans. But at the end of the day I know she’s right. We all have our favorite fashion sins. Mine is the clothing of the 90’s.