Bad Karmal

I drove today. Well, I didn't so much drive as I was behind the wheel. I am not licensed or able to drive but I do have permission to learn. And today's the first day in months I've been motivated to try. My roommate and I were running errands today when we return to the car and see someone parked like 8" away from the drivers side. "Here's my time to shine!" I thought. And I volunteered to shimmy into the driver's from passenger's, put the car in reverse and save the day. Easy peasy! So I get in. First things first, I put on my seat belt, 'cause if I learnt anything from "Sister, Sister" I know safety is key to responsible drivin'.

So I check my mirrors, turned the key and placed the stick in "R". "Way to go!" She yelled! "You're doing it!" I thought she was saying as I expertly looked at her over my shoulder and reversed. I smiled and looked to her for more congratulations when I saw she looked panicked. "Break! Get out!" She was grating her teeth and motioning for me to stop. Turns out that as I was reversing I was taking a bit of the other car with me. I scratched a nice thin strip of gray across its doors. Or at least I think it was gray as I tried to inspect the damage as we drove off. I don't feel good about what I did. (Or the image I'm using to illustrate it...) But living with the guilt is part of my punishment.

Bathroom Stalling

I'm not one for potty-talk but you never hear as much unwanted p*ssing sounds as when you work in a large office. It's gross but pretty funny. Especially if it's the hurried micturition of someone you see everyday. What's even funnier is when you're finishing up (*ahem) on the toilet and you hear someone walk into the next stall. You hear all the "prep noises" and then silence. You go to wash your hands and see the shy tootsies of an anonymous co-worker reflected in the mirror. They're obviously trying to take (*whispers) a poo but they feel too self conscious to "make bears" in front of others. It's a great time for a nice linger before checking all your personal emails before heading back to work.

Black Hairstory

I changed my hair recently. I'm not going to go too much into it, but I look pretty different. At least, I think so. I don't know about you, but I hate it when I change my hair and no one says anything. And I think that's a pretty normal way to feel. It's not like I go 'round elbowing folks in the ribs like, "Go on! What's there different 'bout me?" I just feel it's part of good manners. Especially if one looks as differently with changed hair as I do now. ANYOWL, I was at work the other day, hair all different and no one said anything! So I think, guess I don't look as good/different as I thought I looked. And just went on with my day. Then later, one of my co-workers came up to me and said she loved my hair! She is maybe like Eastern European but with really good English. And apparently, at least, a basic understanding of Afro-textured hair. This is how the exchange went:

Her: Oh wow! Your hair looks really good!

Me: Gee, thanks!

Her: I didn't know it was that long!

Me: Yeah, me neither! I was pretty hesitant for them cutting off as much as they did!

Her: Is that because it takes so long to grow?

Me: Um... no. Not really. My hair grows fine, it just has a tendency to break off.

Her: Is that because black hair is so dry?

Me. Sure.

Bless her for trying to relate to me.

Kate care less

I was in the store the other day and saw this magazine simply titled "Kate". It was an entire generic glossy dedicated solely to future British Princess (Queen?), Kate Middleton. Seeing it really upset me. Even as a self-described Anglophile, like most other Americans, I care nothing of the Royal Wedding. We hardly know anything about Prince William. We're mostly, "Wasn't he just 12 years old?" and "Ooh, wasn't it horrible when the TV killed that poor child's mother?" The gravity of it is lost on me. When are the media going to realize that Americans have given up fawning over royalty the day we discovered Johnny Depp films and collectable state quarters. It's bad enough we lost the accent! We don't need the media reminding us we'll never be the subject of a hunky sovereign.

(Hachi machi! "My KINGDOM for a hug...!")

Watch this spot for AWESOME!

I've been on this retro toys kick lately. I've collected a pull-string heli-flyer, a net-bag of jacks, a free Marc Jacobs rubix cube and this Etch-A-Sketch someone gave me today at work! It was at the corner of this dudes desk. And like a penniless child licking it's lips outside the window of a sweets shop, I was hoping if I made myself visible he would take pity and give it to me. And he did! 12 hours with an Etch-A-Sketch and see what I've been able to scribble! This one's for you, Rosebud! ♥

...I don't hate it...

This is unacceptable!

I don't know what happened. First, I was just taking a break. I was irritating myself constantly thinking of content to post and convinced myself it was alright if I skipped the odd day. Next I was blaming it on work. Saying that I would obviously have less time to devote to recording nonsense. Then before you know it, I drop off the guinea map! I can't account for it, because honestly, I haven't been that busy. I'm thinking that somewhere along the line I maybe forgot I had a blog? I'm pretty sure. I know that's hard to believe because of the ferocity I started with in Septober. But I must remember that I'm a creature of routine and convince myself to blog at least 2ce a week. I think I can handle that. And bless you nameless few who've checked in now and then. Your devotion will not go in vain. To make up for my total lapse in typing, I will play a little bit of catch up. I just hope I don't over do it like i did in October. It pissed all over importance of my 100th post.

Today, in [fake] news!

HEADLINE: "Spectators scream, 'UFOul!' Two-headed man claims unidentified aircraft already there when he arrived on scene."

Lessons in eating out

David Mitchell has some enlightened views on public mastication. And how eating out is as intimate as it is an odd ritual for strangers to share. Before yesterday I used to enjoy going out for a hot meal and a hearty side of people watching. Thinking about how any random him or her is having a unique dining experience to me. And how, no matter our differences, we chose to dine at the same restaurant at the same time. I used to think that was pretty cool. Unifying. Until yesterday. My roommate and I decided to to go Olive Garden. America's sh*tty Italian guilty pleasure.  After ordering, I see this woman beyond our table hold up a new New Balance sneaker and gesture with it to the man in front of her. My first thought was, "Oh people and their ways!" and forgot about her. Then I start eating and I see her take all the breadsticks and individually wipe all the parmesan cheese and oil from it. I gave her a look like, "You're ruining it!" but then figured that if that guy couldn't stand up to his bread being ruined, maybe he DESERVED his bread to be ruined, and I left it.

But as I'm eating my food I see her take the breadsticks, break them in half, then split them down the middle with her index finger. I was transfixed. What on earth was she doing?! I was repulsed but I couldnt look away! Then she took her spaghetti and meatballs and fork-stuffed them into the breadsticks! It was all I could do not to scream or be sick right there at the table. I could tell this hadn't been the first time she'd done this. Her movements were as beautiful as they were disgusting. I actively tried for the rest of my meal to not look in her direction. I went on enjoying my meal when finally I see her signal the waiter. He returns with a carry out box. The woman then starts lining up her narrow sandwiches end to end, about 10 of them, before closing it, paying their check and leaving. It may not seem as bad as words you're reading, but it was one of the weirdest dining displays I'd ever witnessed. That coupled with her crossed eyes and ski vest made me wonder if maybe I was being taught some kind of lesson about paying more attention to my surroundings or perhaps to become blissfully unattached to those around me. But the more I think about it, I think it was more a sign to never dine at Olive Garden again. Or at the very least, to perfect my audible sigh.

Cheapskate Sweepstakes: "Stornoway"

STORY BEHIND CONTEST: The other day I was at my neighborhood Walgreens (or "chemist" if you're from certain places) when I decided to print pictures off my camera. I wanted to blow up this picture I took with the band Stornoway after a concert last December. But when it printed, it had this huge crease across it. They said they would do it over but there was something up with the machine so it took aaaages! I wanted a good'un so I decided to wait. The guy was having a time working the machine and had to call in his manager at one point. And after waiting the better part of an hour, it printed. Then again. ...and again. And even again! In the end, that beast churned out TEN 8x10"s! All with little creases across the top. I have no need for 9 pictures so I decided to throw an old fashion scwheepshtakes! My blog isn't very popular so I'm not sure how I'm going to do this, but so far the details are as follows:

RULES: Write a short statement on the topic: "Why I want this photo." An ideal entry would begin, "I want this photo because...", "What this photo means to me..." or even "When I was a photo..." And include your email/mailing address. I'm not [openly] psychic.

PRIZE: The picture you'll receive won't have any of this digi-writing, but it will have a faint crease across the top. And perhaps additional creases from shoddy packaging.

WINNER: The winner will be chosen by me and will be determined on creativity and by my debilitating laziness. But it will NOT be first come first serve. (I have a brand to protect.)

COST: All delivery costs will be borne (bear..ed?) by me. But I will use the slowest cheapest shipping means available so don't hold your breath.

So yeah, if you want a picture of a cool someone you might not know in a picture with an awesome band you probably never heard of send your statement to "duncessblog@gmail.com" or comment below! This sweepstakes is ongoing so enter, why not?! Your life may be better for it!*


*duncess. does not take responsibility for lack of change in quality of life. 

My favorite words to google-image

In no particular order:

1. persian kittens
2. beyonce blackface
3. albino humans
4. nicole richie fat
5. bad cosplay
6. smiling wombat
7. awesome face paint
8. nebula[e]
9. mammatus clouds
10. bizarre fish
11. meth before after
12. trompe l'oeil
13. spiderman tattoo
14. obese animals
15. fetal skull

hono[u]rable mention:

dog scuba suit

≈98.5% True Story

I had the weirdest shopping experience today. Since I'd finally "arrived" my roommate and I decided it was time to upgrade our furniture so we took a trip to Big Lots!. As we were parking we saw this dude pacing the lot with a knife in one hand and half a pineapple in the other. My roommate said, "That's not gonna sell any pineapples." I thought that was racist because he was [whatever race he was] and figured he was just having his lunch. We get out of the car and see him accost this lady with her children, stick the knife in the pineapple and point it at her. She grabbed her kids hands said no and walked past him. Then he walks towards us and does the same fruit-mime. I made sure to smile as I said "no" so I wouldn't, at worst, get a pineapple stained hole cut into my chest.

We go inside and try out some sofas. We find one we liked then talked about how we'd arrange them when this old man came up to us and calmly asked if we "liked peeled grapes." I said how that was a weird thing to say to a person then he spent a full minute explaining how they represented "the best things in life." After we refused his cryptic blessing he insulted us saying we didn't get his joke and then went to bother some child-strangers to listen to their mother. It was crazy in there so we decided to leave. But then on our way out my roommate notices Lynn Whitfield, dressed like a bag lady, inspecting impulse buys opposite the check-out. That was the final straw. I left the store, bought some Girl Scout cookies and sampled some street pineapple before promising myself never to shop there again*.

*This sentence contains untrue statements.

I really need a thesaurus..

You know what? Who cares! So what if my vocabulary is limited? I'm not ashamed of it. I know words that would blow your mind! They just don't happen to be relevant to most of my posts. So go ahead and sneer, you pusillanimous pilgarlics. I'll do just fine.  

Congratulations! It's a Burden!

If you haven't been told or figured it out by now, I got a job! It's a bit weird doing things in the morning, but it's kind of fun working in an office again. Like today, it was Mardi Gras so we ate a "King Cake". It's the tradition of eating a colorful cake with a [plastic] baby hidden in it. At first I thought the gag was whoever finds it won't go to Hell, but it turns out that they just have to throw the party next year. And who wants to do that, right? So I made a calculated cut, trying to get a piece too small to hide a toy but still big enough to hold me 'til lunch. And as fateful eff up would have it I got the baby. Everyone got a good laugh out of it. But I panicked! I didn't want that baby! But damn, if I didn't want a piece of cake. So like any other unprepared mother, I did the only thing I knew to do, gave it away. I swaddled it in paper towel and left him on someone's desk like a sticky unwanted Moses. I'm sure who ever ends up with him will throw a rager of a King Cake party next year, so I have no regrets. I just started last week! I'm not ready for that kind of responsibility.

Today, in [fake] news!

Headline: "Local hero 'Tunisia Man' is told situation is beyond his help."