Save Lando

and like always, i can’t believe its been that long since i wrote (or that it’s not butter, because i would have bet the farm on it actually being so).

i had planned on writing something about seeing people from your past, but dont know how much i can actually say on it. a few weeks back, a woman came into my store that looked familiar. i recognized her soon after as a girl i had a crush on in junior high. junior friggin’ high. scary. normally, this would bring about one of those ‘what if’ situations, and i guess it did momentarily. even though she was still beautiful, i just couldnt see myself as being interested in her any more. in any situation, single or not. maybe i’m growing up or something, but i instantly thought “dude, what would we even have talked about?”. and yes, i did call myself dude. apparently, my brain is stuck in california circa 1989. was nice to have some sort of re-realization as to my semi-contented present condition. looks like i had enough for one paragraph. SCORE!

my boss, i guess, respects my music tastes for the most part. he’s always asking for cd’s from me. i gave him a few and he really liked them, so he always asks for more. it’s almost to an annoying level, and i’ve been tinkering with the idea of sneaking in something that would make me laugh. like handing him a non-labelled disc with the aladdin soundtrack on it. see, he’s iranian, and basically would serve no other purpose than to make me laugh. i have been getting a few persian history lessons though. interesting to say the least. maybe its the arguable cynic/anti-believer (i couldn’t see her if i tried) in me, but as a whole, the shit people believe is mind-boggling. and this isnt just concerning the good people of iran, this is EVERYONE. i used to know someone who claimed that our universe was a tiny piece of shit rolled around by a giant dung beetle. honestly, i almost enjoy that more than things most people consider to be true.

and speaking of white trash hell (work). i’ve had some noteworthy applications to the hall of shame. wanna hear about it? ok, here i go.

side-ponytail men. i’ve had at least three of these guys come into my store this month. none of the regular ponytail for these guys. its from the side/back. and its always braided. seriously. i want to ask them what the hell they’re thinking. i dont know if its some sort of weird star wars rehash or not (likely not given the type), but it scares me. me, the guy who got bored and cut his own hair. the guy who continually threatens to shave racing stripes into his chest hair so he can be more streamlined. i’m no stranger to the weird hair thing, but even this befuddles me (fiddle faddle).

also. nascar tattoos. hawt. drunken rednecks with dale earnheart tats arm in arm with black-eyed wives. its fucking sweet. i knew i lived in a white-trash mecca, but i didnt know we were importing people in from arkansas. it’s like someone told them that theres an endless supply of PBR in OKC, and that they get free samples, 1/2 an acre, and a spiffy trailer.

you almost have to love this state.