Sunday, March 16, 2014

Well, TV, That Was Fun, But I Gotta Go.

TV is a funny thing. Nobody under the age of 35 actually "has" TV, yet we all watch what TV has to offer.  It's only when we go visit our parents or somebody else who has decided they'd rather spend $100 a month than use the interwebs that we actually get to see TV, commercials and all.

And really, since we've already seen TV on Netflix, HBO, Hulu, or free streaming sites, it's really only the commercials that are truly new to us.  Frankly, they are the most entertaining nowadays as well.  If you haven't made it home to watch actual television in the last year, I did the work for you and will quickly summarize what you need to know.

Gold and silver coins?  They're skyrocketing because China wants their own iPads now so the price is going to head back up to oil embargo levels from the '70s.  $50 bucks an ounce--any day now.  Luckily, you can buy coins from a 1-800 number at the low cost of $29.90 an ounce. But they're not purely altruistic here--you can only buy 5 at a time.  Moderated generosity.

The following diseases and illnesses are now treatable with low (or severe) side effects: less boners, more boners, hot flashes, allergies, allergies while getting boners, peeing too much, too little, or peeing on things in a reckless manner, arthritis in your boner while peeing, and diabetes.  (apparently oatmeal is no longer good enough for that last one).  Oh, and there's hope for you post-menopausal women experiencing painful intercourse that lube doesn't fix; there's just one catch.  If you're post-menopausal AND pregnant, you're out of luck.  Except, of course, for the 50% discount on all Adam&Eve products that can--pardon my pun--fill the gap.

Since the commercials are now really the shows, that relegated television programs to, well, commercials.  I'm sure these are available on the Netflix, but some were new to me. Worst show? Celebrity wife-swap, where Dee Snyder and Flavor Flav (Flave? Hmm.) swapped wives for a week.  Or less than a week for Flave, as Mrs. S was fed up at Flave for getting high and buying french fries for the baby instead of skydiving with her (true story).

Best show?  Betty White.  She basically hosts a show where old people go on the street with hidden cameras and fuck with people.  Brilliant idea. Nobody ever expects the old geezers of anything, so they get away with some good shit.

But, even with all this entertainment, a day or so is about enough.  I had my fill at about 2AM on the first night and found myself flicking my laptop open to catch up on The Walking Dead.  No commercials there unfortunately, but at least they're done with the damn annoying Governor. And is Daryl going to hook up with the teenage blonde girl? I don't know if it's illegal, or what it says about me, but I'm cheering for it.  If it IS illegal, I'm sure it's just a treatable condition that Daryl has--and I know there's some new medication out there that will cure it right up.

Friday, January 3, 2014

Where I Do Not Explain What I'm "Doing."

As of today, I'm changing the title of this thing and not doing whatever it is I was doing (or not doing) before.

Sometimes when I come back to Iowa--and specifically, to dad's back in McCausland--I begin to lose track of "real life" and "actual stuff."  What day/year/month is it?  Not sure. Too many days of scrounging for food, doing nothing, and drinking beer at the BS seem to scramble my brain beyond its capacity to remember facts or information.  I find myself hanging out with Grandma more, too, as my inattention appears to be remarkably similar in effect as her slowly-yet-jovially creeping Alzheimer's.  "Did I already take my medication today?" One of us said.  I don't remember who.

The internet keeps me going though.  There's something magically comforting in the knowledge that, no matter how hard you might try, there is nothing original you could think or create or do.  Someone, somewhere, is already on it.  But what have I contributed to this mass of intergalactic security?  Not much, sadly.  Well, not sadly, as I suppose sadness would require some sort of active opinion on the subject, which--as I've explained--is often sucked into the vortex of swamps, bad cell service, and "ingredients" rather than "food."

I can say, with some confidence, that recently I was on an expedition to a far away town for 8 hours of tattoo-getting (no, *I* don't have a new one--at least that's visible to my own eye).  I remember the name of the place we went to only because of the matchbook I took from there, which states: "CAUTION: These Matches Could Burn The Shit Out Of You" which, at least to me, was a rock of absolute truth in otherwise inane modern-day marketing.  In fact, I was so enamored with that particular warning that I failed to notice the small print beneath, which says "Pound 'em till you piss!" I'm not sure what that means exactly, but I remember at some point having drank just enough to figure out what it meant and directing myself to make a note of such an important discovery in my phone's notepad.  Apparently I forgot to do so.

Today I'm doing (trying) laundry and taking a shower.  I actually started my car and drove to a place as well, though I think nicotine craving had something to do with that.  I have not, however, responded to any texts that say "what r u up to" or anything of the sort.  Describing what I'm "doing" would entail more doing than anything I could try to describe, so I ignore those sorts of questions. (note: if you are a friend who likes to use "what r u doing" sort of information requests, I would suggest more specificity.  Perhaps "Are you wearing pants right now? Or other, similar, binary type questions.)  What snapped me into such productivity today?  My best guess is that a few law school grades from this past semester came in this week.

Ostensibly, this past semester I was enrolled in a bankruptcy law course.  The class met 3 times per week, at 7:30 A.M., and required two textbooks.  The more clever among you could already deduce several things from these basic facts.  I'll confirm: no, I didn't go much (I seem to remember going to 3 classes, but I might have gone to 4 when I was up all night with insomnia and digging novelty), no, there was no attendance policy, and no, I didn't buy the books (though the "code" ((I've always loved that word)) book was given to me by a friend who convinced me that I should take the class).  Instead of going to class (or much of my other classes, for that matter) I spent much of this semester finding cheap beer at new places with interesting characters who, frankly, provide much more education than 99% of the classes I've ever taken.  I even remember thinking, as Rokkosauros sang "Glory Hallelujah" at the top of his voice while hugging old Ron from the Silver Leaf, that there were people out there who would forego these experiences in favor of "responsibility" and "going to class."  I wish them all the success in the world, but I don't hold out much hope.

As some of you "rememberers" might remember, the Shreves-lawschool approach involves a credit-style approach to each semester.  Skip everything, do the minimum required, find adventures, and put it all off on "life-credit".  Then, for 3 weeks at the end of each semester, the bill comes due and it's time to buckle down.  Hard.  So, as usual, I did, and spent 3 weeks almost always sober and usually getting a normal amount of sleep.  By day, I studied. By "studied," I mean "learn the course from the beginning just in time for the test."  Bankruptcy was of course involved, but I had missed so much--and knew so little--that I was actually concerned about passing the class.  I worked hard enough to actually know quite a bit about the subject though, and felt positively adequate as I headed in to take the exam.  Unfortunately it was the hardest exam yet, and for the first time in law school I actually considered the possibility that I did not pass a course.

But then grades came in, and I got an A.  This is not a point of bragging where I'm trying to explain that I was smarter than I thought or expected on a subject.  I--quite literally--fell so far behind on time that I skimmed the last 1/4 of the questions and answered more questions with snap-guesses than I did with higher-level thought processes.  Is law school grading truly random?  Was I the luckiest guesser out there? Was the test so difficult that most of the normal (read: not drunk at the Silver Leaf) students panicked and gave up?  We'll never know.  What I can tell you is that, at least so far, my two best semesters in law school were the one where I tried the hardest, and the one where I tried the least hard.  There's some sort of lesson in that, but I'm not sure I know what it is.

For a final thought, if anyone who reads this and knows a fella with the last name "Smallwood" (seriously) and wants to buy me a Christmas/birthday present, get his '47 Gibson guitar off him and give it to me.  That thing was the guitar equivalent of dating Elizabeth Hurley right before, during, and after her appearance in the movie "Bedazzled."

I heard a buzzer, so either my velveeta noodles are done (it doesn't SAY you can't microwave them) or my laundry needs put in the dryer.  Until next time.