Northward Midget

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  • BBC

    T-shirt depicting "Olaf" the snowman from "Frozen" with caption "I LIKE WARM HUGS".
    Getting chilly for t-shirts, but the cold never bothered me, anyway.

    Fun encounter with the fairer sex this morning. Went outside my apartment to the Farmer’s Market that usually serves only to deprive me of parking on Friday night. Browsed a little, then to the java stand.  The pretty twenty-something compliments my “Frozen” shirt with a giggle and asks what I’d like.

    “Well … I’ve been craving a BBC.   A big–”

    [beat, anxiety on her face]

    “black …”

    [beat, eyes widen]

    “… coffee.”

    She laughs. Funny she knew the acronym– maybe she’s on Craigslist.

    Anyway, she pours, I explain I’ve been wanting to use it for a while. “Well, not use a BBC, but the joke.” “You’re BAAAAD.”

    She mentions the shirt again, I say, “Yeah, I watch it a lot with the girls. I mean, I don’t watch BBC with them– er, well, I do” “You’re BAD this morning!” “I mean the British Broadcasting Corp.”

    She finishes pouring, but my cup runneth over.  I helpfully interject, “BBC ain’t fitting in there, is it?”

    She laughs again.

    We smile, we part and I walk home in the cold September rain.

     

  • It’s a Mad World

    All around me are familiar faces--
 ... worn out places
 ... worn out faces.

Bright and early for their daily races--
 ... going nowhere
 ... going nowhere.

Their tears are filling up their glasses--
 ... no expression.
 ... no expression.

Hide my head I wanna drown my sorrow--
 ... no tomorrow
 ... no tomorrow.

And I find it kind of funny;
 I find it kind of sad--
that the dreams in which I'm dyin' are the best I've ever had.

I find it hard to tell you;
 I find it hard to take--
when people run in circles it's a very very--

... mad world.

Children waiting for the day they feel good--
  "Happy birthday."
  "Happy birthday."

And to feel the way that every child should--
  "Sit and listen."
  "Sit and listen."

Went to school and I was very nervous--
  No one knew me.
  No one knew me.
    Hello teacher tell me what's my lesson?
  Look right through me.
  Look right through me.


    And I find it kind of funny;
 I find it kind of sad--
that the dreams in which I'm dyin' are the best I've ever had.
    I find it hard to tell you;
 'cuz find it hard to take--
when people run in circles it's a very very--
    ... mad world.

And I find it kind of funny;
 I find it kind of sad--
that the dreams in which I'm dyin' are the best I've ever had.
    I find it hard to tell you;
 'cuz find it hard to take--
when people run in circles it's a very very--
    ... mad world.
... mad world.
... mad world.


    

    
			
    
		
    
		
	
  • 
		
		
    
			
			
    I Suppose I Owe You One
    
			
    It’s been a while.  How you doin’?
    

    It’s been a while longer since I wrote anything of general utility.  Most of my spew has been of a peculiar flavor spawned of my bile.  Give me a break, friends– the strongest urge to write is to pull in those who ken what you pen.
    

    It’s rare for anyone to truly know you.
    

    … I’m speaking to a likewise rare audience here.  For the majority of humanity, their 12-piece “Age 2+” puzzle of a psychological composition ain’t so hard to put together, comprehend, snap/tear into double the components, and re-assembled wearing mittens with one’s mind’s eye closed.
    

    I’m with a good woman.  A foxy woman.
    

    I’ve got the girls back.  I gave up custody, but it was for their sake, and it was with caveats that made it worth separating that purely contractual issue from the rest of the divorce bullshit.  Truly, if I felt they were in danger with their mother, I’d take them regardless of whatever the Law may have entered into the public record.
    

    Fuck the Law.
    

    That’s why I made the deal.  I have no respect or concern for the Law–
    

    … only for my girls.
    

    Enough of that.  Life otherwise?   I’ve been at my current job for a year now.  Well, it will have been a year in one minute– and once this is posted.  I was contracted as a “Java developer”.  I hadn’t coded Java since its showcase presentation was an applet of “Duke” doing his jack-hammer “Under Construction” stint and garish water-reflection applets on homepages.
    

    However, since I am a hacker by nature and by heart and by tripping fingers over the proper mechanical cherry-key-board– I can adapt.  Scored pretty high when asked to do so.  The sadness is that the task to which I was assigned was so vaguely defined as to be impossible to “finish”, so … I’m viewed as a slacker.
    

    I have a Google Forms record of every day I’ve worked since I started.  I don’t fuck around.  I *want* to work.  I *live* to work.
    

    I live.
    

    … which brings us to the status-quo.
    

    I live.
    

    Good night, and good luck.