Tough Guy with Art and 7" collections

Eh... pick me a pack of those mint toothpicks and a some hair tonic while you'se out.

Fight The Power

Shit Dad. Trim my nails. We've got a fucking revolution going on over here.

Tortoise Style

All this time I thought that I had just wasted 8 years of my life for health insurance and a matching 401K. Apparrently I am really climbing the ladder. Now, in addition to hallway monitoring, smelling my co-workers/hallmates wind as they pass behind me and the luxury of listenting to them talk about celebrities while they are at the printer I am (though only partially) in charge of turning off the lights in the storage room for other people. Not sure what kind of monetary increase this will yield but I'm sure it's in the high hundreds."Hundies" if you know what's up. If things continue to go this well I may be able to put the toilet seat down and pat dry the hands of people in the bathroom. The sky is the limit. Dare to dream. Lake house? Ski boat? Blacksmithing lessons? Check!
Visas en mon.

I'll Take Greek Tragedies That Begin With "O", Alec

I do not consider myself to be a Freudian. Lately I have been reading a good amount of Kurzweil and Dennet. Fascinating stuff. Neither are Psychiatrists by any stretch of the imagination though both deal with consciousness on heavy levels. Seriously, fuck Dualism. I recommend reading both of them. Study up. You may learn something that will help you get a job in a hallway working for some faceless, passionless corporation. Not this one. This hallway position is taken. I covet sitting here and smelling my hallmates farts as they walk past me to pick up their pictures at the printer from that crazy weekend in Fire Island that no one would understand unless they had been there. It was nuts. So nuts that your bowtie is about to start spinning around in circles as your bowler hat flies off of your head. Like Rip Taylor funny. Man you guys must have had three or four beers and only put on SPF 15. Boffo!
Freud spent 3 years as a resident physician in the famous Allgemeine Krankenhaus, a general hospital that was the medical center of Vienna. He rotated through a number of clinical services and spent 5 months in the psychiatry department headed by Theodor Meynert. Psychiatry at this time was static and descriptive. Then came the Oedipus theory.
There are forty or fifty of the image above patterned into the marble of our grand lobby. I have not spent any time at the Allgemeine Krankenhaus. I have never studied under Theodor Meynert. Regardless, I'm pretty sure that both the stoneworker of these pink-heavenly slabs and the architecht who chose him to glorify his entryway would be pretty excited to off Pops and climb back into Mommy's noo-noo.

Don't Walk Away and Leave Unsilent Notes.

I do not have much to say about this other that three cheers for everyone involved. Who would know that a suicide anniversary could bring out the best in people. The world is full of surprises.
http://www.gothamist.com/2007/05/30/school_graffiti.php
When will someone write you a letter that starts "Dear Political Graffiti Artist"?

Somebody Had A Dream

Saw this in the hallway on my way to the printer. Needless to say there is no shortage of straight, white males with MBAs running around the office.

"God Bless Us. Everyone"-Tiny Tim

So the promotion did not go through. Something about flies and vinegar and honey, but you know when you wake up after eleven winks because your girlfriend did not get home until seven in the morning because she passed out at her job and who the fuck are you the time keeper who controls the sun? and you get to ride your bike to the impound lot to pick up your car that you paid $917 U.S. dollars to get out of tow but you forgot your keys so you get to ride your bike home to see your sweet, sweet dove sleeping or at least in some state of unconsciousness and then ride your bike back to the impound lot and find out that they charged you for storage on each and every one of the days that they were closed and would not allow you pick up your car because, they were just hanging out with their malnourished, billy club-beaten pitbulls when you were there on Memorial day trying to pick the old ricketty auto up and you finally get to interact with the fem-spawns of dirty Hessians who are not suprised by your rancor and no matter how much you threaten action from your attorney and the mayor of New York City and the kidnapping of their first-born future food stamp collectors like you are some Rumpelstilskins, you know that you still are not going to get your Blue Book valued $300 U.S. dollar car back until you give the Hessian offspring another $90 U.S. dollars because they have heard all of this before from much more threatening people without James Dean haircuts and you are pretty sure that people could not possibly treat each other at all worse, or behave any more jejune, inane, narcissistic or just good old fashioned fucking stupidumb? If you had forgotten your means of creating fire in the 21st century and you wanted a cigarette because after you finally arrive to your job in the hallway after your 15 mile surprise morning bike ride and the thirteenth listening to Lazy Line Painter Jane just is somehow not quite getting you back into the real world and setting all straight as it generally can you would have to ask a stranger to put a flame onto the tip of your cigarette and then that stranger would see where you work because you just walked out of the building and he would want to be your buddy and he would, after asking if you worked in the building which he just saw you walk out of, inquire as to whether or not you could fulfill his dream of meeting Mick Jagger by the end of the summer before his internship is over and then you would tell him to meet the both of you for drinks at Applebee's at 6:30 and then you would go throw up around the corner while a middle school field trip on it's way to see the Wednesday matinee of the Lion King watches. You know? That was the best. Long live the bon vivants!