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Freaky Yet Catchy Music Video: Sia – Buttons

Even with that snaggle tooth, I’d hit it wrapped in plastic.

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Gary Coleman in Cash Call Commercial

This made me laugh out loud maniacally. Mwahahahahahaha! Happy 4th of July!

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Zero-Gravity Zoning ZZZ

My neighbors really need to start obeying zoning laws. I’m driving by, and what do I see? A flatbed tow truck parked right on their roof. And next to the tow truck is a guy standing on the roof, building another house right on top of the roof of the other house. I’m wondering how this two-story, wooden house can support all this weight. I reach a stop sign at the corner where this house is, and as I make a left turn onto the intersecting street, I see the wooden ramp he’s built to drive the cars onto his roof. It turned out the tow truck wasn’t the only vehicle on the roof. There were also three passenger cars with yellow light bars, parked at the frighteningly steep incline of the roof. I think I might write a letter when I wake up.

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Tantalizing Tantric Trainrides

The fluorescent track lights are lit too early; it’s only 6 AM and the light from the sun isn’t even pouring in yet. The other riders are split between sleep and stress, where this author prefers the former. But that locomotive’s diesel droning just lulled me back to sleep like I was at home in my bed. With my eyes closed but my ears unclosable, the train refused to allow me the courtesy of a full deep sleep. But deeper and deeper down, I would have never known. The train started to become less and less real. The “no smoking” sign in the corner made me ask: am I smoking? Remembering my laptop in my travelling bag made me ask: am I on my computer right now? If I am on my computer, am I looking at something other people on the train shouldn’t see? I saw a black and white photo of a nude woman. Is there a sign telling me not to get hot over this photo? But there comes and there goes my stop, and now I know this morning is off to a bad start.

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Postcard Prints and Dynamite Flints

When had I been here before? This place looked like a postcard from one of the abandoned gift shops on the Taconic parkway. There was a wide body of flowing water, a cliff over which it was flowing, and in the other direction, a massive construction project overhauling some old building near the way. I drove my 93 Mitsubishi Diamante right down the dirt road towards the water, and then into the water. The water was only about two feet deep, and it seemed drivable, as if I had been to this place before. I followed the water against its direction of flow for about two hundred feet before cutting the wheel to the left and trying to pull it back up onto dry land. The land I selected wasn’t exactly dry, either. So I turned the car around and tried to head back to where I started. The engine was now flooded and wouldn’t even crank over. Pushing the car, I neared an edge where water flowed freely over. When the front wheels went over the cliff, I knew the car was about to escape me. I had a leash tethering me to the car and vice versa, but it snapped without haste. The car and I went over the edge of the waterfall, and the car sank without delay. But I could open my eyes underwater here, and I could see my car at the bottom, alongside a blue and white Mini Cooper that had also made its way to the bottom. My front wheel was also broken off, probably from the impact against the river floor. But I took a deep breath, swam down to my car, and started the long journey to push it out. But it was of no help, since with everything soaked in water the car wouldn’t start once it was back on land anyway.

These two girls in a car drove up to me and asked if I had driven my car into the river, and I said yes. They said I shouldn’t have tried to be sneaky and take it in (also, I didn’t sign-in at the entrance). I noticed a stick of dynamite, unexploded, sitting right behind me. If only I had a lighter, but alas I too was soaking wet and incapable of immolating anything. The conversation drew me towards the nearby construction, and I peeked inside, seeing the bare wall supports and plasterboard still going up through the pane-glass doors. I opened the door and walked in, and started walking down towards the basement. But the basement, it turned out, was not under construction at all, it was a bustling underground bar. And walking around the perimeter of that floor, I realized there was yet another underground level still: a grand hall with wood trim and wood décor everywhere, and with yet another stairway to another basement level.

This third basement resembled a subway station, with cool white tiles and light, except that the ceiling was too low (no more than five feet), which was supposed to be a “security feature” according to someone I overheard. I didn’t want to be down there, so I started to run as fast as I could through the tunnels. I passed friends and family and lovers in the tunnels and none of them said a word to me. Running out of this complex I found myself topside again, back where I had parked my car in this quiet and unsuspecting scene from a postcard.

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Nuanced New York New Year

This New Year’s party was like no other I remember. No one I knew was there, but everyone’s face was familiar to me. Some of their voices sounded an awful lot like my friends and family. The party wasn’t going well, it seemed. In fact it didn’t seem like much of a party at all. The mood turned angry and then everybody was mad at me. What I had done was unknown to me, but as the crowd became angry, I became angry in defense. I noticed that someone had disassembled my rollerblades. The bolts and ball bearings were scattered around haphazardly. I left the party, but was unable to find my keys or my car. I started to walk instead, off into the sunrise.

In front of me then was the rushing water of a stream or river after a hard rain. The otherwise beautiful postcard scene of this watershed was disrupted by floating orange and white plastic barrels partially submerged in the water. They were labeled as though they were some type of hazard, but I couldn’t decipher their contents. It occurred to me that these barrels could be linked together because of their peculiar square-like shape. Before long, a series of them were linked together forming a tiled floating dock over the majority of the water, still running below.

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