Ah, sweet talkies

Sometimes, exactly everything I want is a nice, long, random conversation. My buddy Kenneth, a few weeks ago, noticed that while he was throwing darts and laughing it up with his buddies, I was sitting at our table and talking with his fiance. He came over and said, "Ya know, Chris, you're a talker."

I hadn't really thought about it, but I suppose I am. I deeply enjoy short, pointless conversations, I somewhat enjoy long, meaningful conversations, and I get the upper-thigh sweats from long, get-to-know-you conversations. I really can't think of any better way to get to know how a person thinks, or acts, or feels.

I know this may seem rather obvious, but Im not just talking about WHAT someone says. A person's eye contact, facial expressions, and gesticulations are a window into their personality. Their ability to take a joke (especially one of my jokes) really lets you know what kind of friend they will be.

Plus: Do they laugh out loud at my jokes? Do they really understand when I am being serious, showing my true passion over a subject? Do they listen or wait to talk? When they DO talk, do they say things that are on the subject, or do they try to swing the conversation around to what THEY want to talk about?

I have a new friend, and we are slowly getting to know each other. he came to the show on Saturday, and we went out for a few drinks afterwards, until about 2 or so. She called me on her way home, and we talked for THREE HOURS STRAIGHT. Now, Im not always wild about sitting on the phone for a long time, but getting to know someone (especially someone so special and cool) is exciting, and cozy in a way.

Anyhow, the next day, a really good friend of mine asked if I had had a good time last night. I told her about the long phone conversation, to which she asked, "Were you disappointed? Wouldn't you rather have picked up a chick for a night of sex, or stayed drinking, or something?" I had to admit that I got exactly what I wanted and needed on Saturday night at 2:15-4am. And it made me extremely happy.

This may have been a boring post, of sorts, but I will most likely be pissed off again soon, and be able to rant.

Keep chillin.

Why don't the English....

Okay, listen up for my rant, and soon, itll all be over.

Put you head right up against the screen so you can HEAR ME when I type this.

An exclamation point and a question mark are not used for emphasis!

They are used to show exclamatory bewilderment or questioning!

So help me, if I see another sentence like this: "I really enjoyed your party!?" I will fucking KILL SOMEONE.

If you MUST use numerous punctuation marks to show how AWFULLY excited you are, use three exclamation points. DAMMIT!!!
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Thank you, and enjoy your day.

Superman Ramblings

Im sitting here at work and listening to an interview with the new Superman, Brandon Routh. (If you havent taken a look at the trailer or the pics, GO NOW. http://supermanreturns.warnerbros.com/) Listening to him talk about the movie, I am getting all excited for the millionth time. While talking about Christopher Reeve, Routh said it was very special to him what he might have thought, because "he was my Superman." Amen, brother. Because, you know, even though he's a fictional character, and in comics (where every artist and writer has a new vision of him), whenever I read a Superman comic, I see Christopher Reeve. He really captured the innocence and protectiveness that Superman means to me.

I have moved back and forth with my comics; sometimes I like gritty crime drama, sometimes a regular superhero story, sometimes horror stories about zombies and such. Superman has always been a constant for me.

A lot of people ask me about my tattoos, and what they mean to me. I have a Superman S on my right shoulder, and I put it there because, sophomoric though it may be, he is everything I want to be when I grow up. Not just a savior for the weak, but a beacon of value and conscience. TRUE value. He doesn't save someone because they are white, or straight, or christian, or rich. He saves everybody, because he knows we are all in this together, and we must never lose our capacity to pick up our fellow man when he falls.

I guess Im rambling again, but I will give you the text from the trailer (spoken by Superman's father, Jor El) that explains what it means to me.

Even though you've been raised as a human being you're not one of them. They can be a great people Kal-El, they wish to be. They only lack the light to show the way. For this reason above all, their capacity for good, I have sent them you... my only son.

I am so excited about this summer, and the return of my hero.

ProFloozies dot com

So, I dont know how many of you have tried it, but I highly recommend www.Proflowers.com.

"Chris!" you may say, looking at your computer screen with a wide eyed expression. "Are you the new Larry King? Did you get an endorsement deal with a high level corporation?"

No, I would say, staring back at you through MY screen with contempt. I just think they are great. You can order flowers for anyone in the world, and usually have them there pretty much when you want them there. They even come in a state of pre-budding-ness, so they last much longer.

But today, I tell you about the hinky thing about using Proflowers.

THEY SEND YOU A JILLION EMAILS. I remember one time I purchased a dozen roses and a box of chocolates (I believe it was for my mother's birthday) and I am STILL getting emails advertising FRESH VIRGIN CHERRIES or CHOCOLATE COVERED SQUIRRELS or some shit. Also, Proflowers seems to have a SHITLOAD of sales "Just for [Me]". It makes me wonder who is REALLY running this company.

I mean, I was really, truly, and fully interested in "Hearing about other new offers and discounts from Proflowers.com". I checked that box with gusto, and when I clicked the SUBMIT button, I made as if to twirl a mustache that I dont, at this time, possess.

But geez!

Anyhow, I really do recommend them. You can buy lots of stuff, for the low low price of paying out the ass for shipping.

The music played in the Twilight Zone

Just a quick note today, and none of the emotionally resonant stuff I HAVE been writing lately. Well, sometimes.

I have in my possession my fourth copy of the Stray Cats greatest hits. This is not their GREATEST HITS album, or anything, mind you, but you know, one of those cheap cds you can buy for $6 at Best Buy or Target, with the greatest songs that havent come out in the last 20 years by people 5 years younger than I have never heard of. (I have bought many of these, including George Jones, Georgia Sattelites, and Al Green.) I have bought 4 versions of these, with the same songs, but in different orders, and maybe replacing "Gene and Eddie" with "Look at That Cadillac" or something.

So anyways, this is the fourth one Ive bought because some subconscious part of me does not think I have to take care of a $6 cd. They will get scratched up, or fucked up in some way, or I will just plain lose them. Ive had this one for about 8 months, and its already the worse for wear.

Here's the weird part. EVERY SINGLE COPY of this cd I buy gets a scratch at the EXACT same point in THE EXACT SAME SONG.

Every time.

Aint going to school, starts too early for me
Well listen man I aint going to school, its starts much much too early for me
I dont care for readin writin 'rithmetic or history

Im gonna wa(skipskipskipskipskipskipskipskipskipskipskipskipskipskip)
And meet my little marie

We're through the looking glass here, people.

Best Hungover At Work Conversation Ever

Me: "So, ma'am, have you got a degree?"
Lady: "Yes, it was actually concurred on February 15 from SUNY Empire State."
Me: "Concurred....you mean conFERRED?"
Lady: "No, Concurred. That's when all of the departments agree that you deserve a degree. You know, like, 'I concur.'"

This conversation also contains a ten minute period that began with
"Whats the school, maam?"
"Empire State College"
and ended with
"Um...I cant find it here."
"You should be able to, its State University of New York."