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The Conversation

Fleeceman — Wed, 21 Jul 2010 23:57:30 +0000

Super: (over black) The Conversation EXT. DAY — STEARNS WHARF

Probably not mind-controlled, nor communing with dinosaurs, but most possibly nutty.

An overcast day, mostly still with just a hint of onshore breeze. The tide is high and a south swell buffets the pilings. The sound is like small marbles rolling along a glass-bottomed box. From nowhere, a . . . → Read More: The Conversation

Bananas

Fleeceman — Fri, 09 Apr 2010 06:14:53 +0000

The book that says it all, or at least what has been said before.

I must warn you to beware when a guitar-playing Jesus shows up at your “office” and asks if things are great. (And yes, he says it like that.)

He then sets a book down on your desk. It is self-published and entitled “Pay . . . → Read More: Bananas

Pineapple Express

Fleeceman — Thu, 07 Jan 2010 04:44:16 +0000

[Note: I wrote this over a year ago, then sat on it because it seemed trivial. However, since this blog has been incredibly glitchy for quite some time and I can't find the fricken code I need to contact my host, you'll just have to read a belated review, sans pictures, because hey, that's part . . . → Read More: Pineapple Express

The BBQ Puker

Fleeceman — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 16:08:00 +0000

In the foothills northeast of Santa Barbara sits a posh, gated community, where if you happen to be working within, you must first sign a contract, the small print of which states you must not even look at the pool once you’re on the property you’ve been assigned to. Dogs aren’t even allowed in your vehicle, . . . → Read More: The BBQ Puker

Dangerous Music

Fleeceman — Tue, 07 Jul 2009 16:37:45 +0000

Itunes recently promoted some Library of Congress podcasts, one of which was about composing with the Devil.

Apparently, a musical interval called the tritone consists of starting on C then jumping up to F sharp, which is somehow tied to physics (and our brain). If you have a string for each note, the ratio of those strings . . . → Read More: Dangerous Music

Taser Laser

Fleeceman — Thu, 02 Jul 2009 19:29:54 +0000

I’m not normally one to complain about other people’s loud music. I like my music loud too, and some tunes are simply meant to be played at ear-splitting volumes: Ozzy, Jane’s, Metallica, … Chris Isaac.

I do, however, hold a certain angry, intense contempt in my heart for static: and on that note, a stereo went off the . . . → Read More: Taser Laser

The iPhone

Fleeceman — Mon, 16 Mar 2009 22:06:55 +0000

This finely feathered dude was captured using the camera on my iPhone. Fairly amazing.

I needed an iPhone about as much as I needed an elephant in my back yard, but since Amazon was fresh out of elephants, I opted for the simpler purchase of the phone.

Suffice to say, it’s pimp. As one fellow user . . . → Read More: The iPhone

Movies in Time

Fleeceman — Wed, 24 Sep 2008 17:17:30 +0000

The limited braintrust of Hollywood.

I was meandering around The New York Times online this morning, and after getting disgruntled over the $700 billion buyout of the idiots on Wall Street, I ended up looking at an interactive graph of movie revenue from 1986 to 2008, adjusted for inflation.

The layout is what the vagina of a . . . → Read More: Movies in Time

The Guitar Dude

Fleeceman — Sun, 07 Sep 2008 21:46:20 +0000

A basic guitar.

The first time we crossed paths the Euros seemed perfectly normal. The dude, a skinny, shaved-headed individual tugging on a cigarette, and the girl, sitting there quietly on her towel, both feigned interest in our dogs—asking the typical ‘what kind?’ ‘how old?’ and ‘what’s her name?’

Perfectly normal.

On the way back . . . → Read More: The Guitar Dude

G-strings and Sorority Girls

Fleeceman — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 16:41:48 +0000

As I exited Blenders on State Street the other day, I heard a commotion just up the street. I looked up to hear honking and several people running around a few cars. I couldn’t quite make out the details.

I got on my bike, balanced with my smoothie, and began my ride down State. Upon . . . → Read More: G-strings and Sorority Girls