Why I Oughtta

Brad Pitt is an attractive man. But he doesn’t really come close to my shortlist of hot men in Hollywood. I don’t know why everyone goes ape shit all the time about him.

::shrug::

Dear Sir or Madam,

My name is Ekrobi (!) and I would love, more than anything in the whole fuckin' world, to work for you at the Textile Museum. Seriously. Dude, if I had the choice between working at the Textile Museum and being sexually serviced by TV's James Van Der Beek every hour on the hour for the rest of my life, I'd totally choose the museum.

I am totally qualified to work at the Textile Museum, bitches. For as long as I have been alive, I've been making my own clothes. And not a day goes by that someone doesn't say, “That is a fabulous frock! Did you make it.” And I reply, “Yes. Yes, I made this frock by myself.” And then I trot off, letting my frock ripple and sway behind me.

“Ripple” and “sway”? Did I really say, ripple and sway? The answer is yes! Because I believe a frock is a frock, it should fit loosely so as to allow proper rippleage. As we speak I am working on a strawberry-patterned frock that I heard someone refer to as a mumu when I was sewing it the other day. And I was all “Hells no, it's not a mumu!” And they were all, “Well it could fit a whale.” And I was all “Haven't you ever heard of swayage?” And they were all, “What are you talking about?”

See? It's not easy being an artist. I think my devotion to this craft is evident in my frocks and if you can't see that, then you can suck it.

Love you,

Ekrobi

I got my physical yesterday. It was the first time I'd had one in several years, so it was about time.

The only bad news I got was that my cholesterol was (still) somewhat high, so they put me on the joy-free diet. We'll see how that goes. I'll try to make some changes to the fundamentals of my diet (ie. changing my daily bagel w/ cream cheese to a healthy cereal with skim milk) and then we'll see how things go.

I had never met my doctor before I saw him yesterday as I was in my underwear with some bullshit piece of crinkly cotton-paper draped around my shoulders. I chose him at random from the Kaiser directory.

My doctor is like Rose from “The Golden Girls” inhabiting the body of a middle-aged black man. He is very jolly, but slightly “what's-going-on.” I never really doubted his medical skill, but he was still a bit… askew.

The weirdest part of the appointment was when I was sitting on the table and we were talking about my LASIK surgery. Admittedly, he did ask me where I went to school earlier in the conversation. But much earlier.

Me: “I got LASIK surgery almost exactly a year ago.”

Dr.: “I went to the University of Nebraska.”

Me: (beat) “Is that where they started LASIK research?”

Dr.: “No, I just went there.”

Me: “Well, that must have been… flat.”

Dr.: “Yeah! If you ever want flat, just go to Nebraska!”

What I wanted to say was “How did that go? Being the only black man in Nebraska?” But I restrained myself.

In other news, they had Entertainment Weeklys in the waiting room from 2001.

I hate it when people pronounce the word “espresso” like it's spelled “express-o.” I'm not normally quite as annoyed at these things, but that one gets me. I mean, it's like it's a totally different word. It's almost as bad as people pronouncing the 's' in Ilinois.

I don't want to turn into crazy language-corrector dude, though. Nobody likes that guy.

Kelsey Grammer did that on Conan O'Brien once. He was going on and on about how he hates the fact that people pronounce the word culinary “cull-in-airy.” When, in fact, it should be pronounced “kyool-in-airy.” He backed it up by saying there were few things less appetizing than the sound “cull.”

So, I sat there, thinking “Fuck you, Kelsey Grammer. Fuck you and your oddly apt name.”

Context: I ask him if he is busy preparing games of Capture the Flat, etc.

Brad: we throw a few hoops in there as well, such as fire and wild pigs
Me: got to keep 'em on their toes
Brad: if Jesus loves them then they will live

Good lord!

There’s a spam e-mail that went to everyone in my company. It’s from “Aftershave H. Shelby” and the only word in the body of the e-mail is “wimple.”

Here’s something in the most recent Rolling Stone that I found inspiring. From an interview with Barack Obama:

Q: What advice do you have for people who feel hopeless after the Kerry loss?
A: Get over it. Go to the movies, go to the park, go on a date — get some perspective. Losing an election is not a tragedy. Tragedies are my mom getting cancer at fifty-three and dying in sex months. Politics in this country has always gone through cycles. There is a constant battle between inclusiveness and exclusiveness, between xenophobia and a more expansive view of what our role in the world is, between a generosity of spirit and anrow self-interest. Dr. King had a wonderful saying: “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” If you look at the trajectory of Amreica, it’s bent toward justice. But it’s not perfectly consistent.

I like that.

Then there’s also this, with Paris Hilton:

Q: Don’t you think you enjoy sex more than the average person?
A: I’m not a sexual person, realy. I don’t really care about sex. If I’m in a relationship, we don’t even do anything, really. We just watch TV. I’m too lazy.