Monthly Archives: December 2006

Boss Shoe has been sending me emails and they have generally not been able to get through my hefty spam filters. However, on occasion I am so bored online that I will briefly scan the spam lists (its worse than looking at fish sex pics, really, don’t encourage the bastards). Now, these spam filters I have in place are no joke. My main internet guru set them up for me, and he ain’t exactly clowning around with this shit.

Matter of fact, it can be said that these vast river dams contributed to the complete extinction of the Chinese river dolphin, the baiji, who were no longer able to swim up the comment arteries or bombard my home inbox with prescription drug ads, which is how they survived for so many years. However, as I said, on rare occasion I do glance at what is getting blocked, and thats how I came across’s new customizable shoe line.

Converse is the only shoe I will wear, because they are the most comfortable on my feet. If I were a baiji who got his dance moves from Savion Glover wearing a motion sensor suit I’d probably be called Mumble and star in Happy Feet and then I’d wear a river dolphin tux to the Animal Grammy’s and everyone’d say I must be a penguin, cause baiji are all extinct and whatnot. And thats too bad, because penguins don’t wear Converse. But I have a Converse addiction.

Usually I go to Marshalls to satisfy my cravings, where I can get a couple of pairs for under forty dollars. Yes, the sneakers at Marshalls have defects. Sometimes they fall apart or you can tell where they switch from cow leather to horse leather, but I don’t really care when the price for eighty dollars weapons is as low as ten dollars. If it don’t make dollars it don’t make sense. At one point in the past year however I used to buy a limited edition pair of Lakers colored 1988 re-issue Weapons (pair number 690 of 900 made) for one hundred dollars. That was too much money.

That was the purchase that got me signed up to the mailing list, which I subsequently labeled Spam. Labeling as such sent all incoming messages to my Gimp dungeon. So when I visited the Gimp and looked into his dungeon and saw a letter from I was all but ready to turn up my nose in hopes of some cheap new horse leather from Marshall’s but the customizable part caught my eye and about fifteen minutes later I had spent another seventy dollars on a new pair of shoes from

Pictured below, on the beloved last known baiji named Qi-Qi who died in captivity in 2002, are the shoes I designed. They are Converse Premier One Stars in mardi gras colors (also the favorite colors of yours truly) with my name 3RD ARM printed on the side. Should be arriving in 3-4 weeks:::::


Revising the Scripps

Twas the night after Xmas day and in my aunty’s house only one creature was stirring: me. In the lazy boy I pondered many thoughts; inconvenient truths, devils in prada, the fattening of America, and I ate many Cheese-Its and in my mind’s eye compared them to Cheese Nips. What I discovered was, the crumbs was ruining my prada and the inconvenient truth is that cheese crackers are contributing to my fatness. Nips are greazier than Its, sure and Its may very well be more real-cheese flavorful, as my sister proclaims, but for my money Nips contain more greazy love. For my dollar the Nips have it.

Irregardlessly, my roving gaze eventually ESPN 2, and the rebroadcast of the final rounds of the 2006 Scripps National Spelling Bee. This throwdown event took place back in May and June of 2006, but the Xmas night rebroadcast proved to be irresistable to me, much like a box of greazy Nips. I watched all two hours of the rebroadcast, which is roughly equivalent to a one pound box. What happened in this year’s Bee was not only unique, it was unquestionably entertaining. For the first time an eliminated challenger was brought back out of the penalty box and onto the ice, and a Canuck almost took the title.

The caliber of the spelling nerd is a bar higher than even judicial review, a bar larger than even Roseanne at her heftiest. The spelling nerd totally destroyed my mind like a deluge of home-schooled rockets. What heavy rocks did kids crawl under to memorize the dictionary, and like old racehorses who would take the shotgun and put them down when they reached the end of middle school and could no longer compete in Scripps? (The green pastures for the retired prize-winning wordhorses is probably the professional, international Scrabble tournament circuit…)

Agreeably, ESPN 2 and ABC (the original broadcaster) kept airing personality profiles of these queer children. Much more so than in the Olympics, these vignettes were the entertaining lubricant for the hard mindfuck of midget-minds packed with word knowledge blowing away the vocabulary pride of this internet writer. In one such profile a girl was asked to describe her interests other than studying the dictionary, and she replied that she enjoys chatting online.

The same girl, who had great promise, got the ding of the bell that signifies an incorrect spelling in an unexpectedly early round and head down in shame went dejectedly over to her sadly obese parents. I was about to let loose a line of mirth regarding her so-called hobby. Something like, “Wait till she tells her little chat buddies how bad she fucked THAT up…” but an instinct of sympathy caught my tongue. The ABC man was interviewing her and she said how great an experience it was that she got to the finals rounds. He asked, “What was the best part of the experience?” and tears ran down her face as she said the best part was all the friends she made…

And I, in my lazy boy, teeshirt covered with cheese crumbs, started sobbing uncontrollably. It brought me back to my days being a tortured super-nerd, or at least being a semi-tortured nerd amongst tortured super-nerds, and how lonely it could feel to be set apart. For real, I had a crying jag, and became 110% engaged in the Scripps. My full attention was brought to bear on the ousting of Saryn Hooks for the supposed incorrect spelling of the Hebrew word, “hechsher” (as she spelled it) which the judges mistakenly had listed as “heshscher”. After taking the walk of shame to her parents, the judges error was uncovered and she was dramatically brought back into the fold, hooking me deeper.

A hechsher is a rabbincal endorsement of food. By the time it came down to the final two contestants, both female, the drama was cranked higher than a one-on-one between Jordan and Bird, Wade and Bryant, Sonic and Mario, pizza and hamburgers. It was like a high noon showdown between gun-slinging cowboy Its and sword-wielding ninja Nips with the prize being a heshcher from the Pope of all rabbis. The consecutive two-time Canspell National Canadian spelling champion, half asian half white (pictured below on the right), Finola Mei Hwa (meaning blossoming flower in Mandarin) Hackett versus four-time consecutive finalist Katharine Close from New Jersey. Both were in their final Scripps, ever.

Katharine had come Close four years in a row, but this year destiny was on her side. For some reason, asked to spell “weltschmerz”, sweet Finola couldn’t quite Hackett. After much finagling, even after invoking her precious bonus time, Finola began the word with a V and the entire audience let out a groan. She knew then she had lost. Weltschmerz is a German word that means world-pain or world-weariness, a sensation that perfectly described pure Finola’s soul emotion at the audience’s reaction to her spelling. For Christ’s sake, her father speaks German.

Her opponent, to win the Scripps championship, had to then spell two wicked tough words correctly. The definitions of those two words tell succintly and perfectly, eerily perfectly, the way I felt watching the conclusion to the contest. First was the Sanskrit derived word for the energy that uncoils in a yogi right before they reach nirvana (okay I made most of that definition up): “kundalini.” She nailed it. The winning word for Katharine Close was “ursprache”, which is defined as the common ancestor amongst a set of common languages. Katharine’s knowledge of urpsraches catalyzed her kundalini, and demonstrated to the flower blossom what weltschmerz is all about.

In any event, both girls are finished with competitive spelling and both blazed out of Scripps with trashbags of cash. Just for fun, and because she hypnotized me with her schoolgirl charm, here’s what the 2006 Scripps would have looked like if it had been Finola and me in the twentieth round…

Glowing Inflatables, Treelites Assuage Solstice Blues, Seasonal Affective Disorder (have friends in Thailand? ask send banana tree, just add lites)

Happy holidays ya’ll. Everybody be safe and enjoy some time with your family during these darkest days of the year. My 5 year high school reunion is this weekend and I won’t be going, but if anyone from the old school is reading this post, please let me know what goes down. I predict a freakshow. See you at the ten year mark, maybe.

If seasonal affective disorder is getting to you too, I suggest gazing at Genevieve and Emerson below the equator. My well-traveled friends have a new blog Rice Noodles. They’ve been down in Thailand with banana trees. They can help.

All the Rocky Movies are Available On Demand

For free. No really, I thought this was worth mentioning because most of Sly’s fanbase out there in America is probably in the closet, and there’s no bettah time for any of us. Not that I’m really in the closet. I was one of the one’s who were out first, with Rocky pictures on my wall (specifically the one where Hulk Hogan is in boots with 3 inch heels staring down at midget size Stallone, who is not doing the Dorf thing (on his knees) but in fact really is just that short. Or so I’ve heard.

I bought the damn magazine that Stallone has recently been writing, all by himself (his byline is on all the articles, reviews and commentary) because, in installments, he was including in its pages the script to the new Rocky movie. Thats right tough guy, back in the day when its working title was Rocky 6, not Flower Balboa or whatever it is now. And I’ve been watching a lot of old Ali fights on Espn classic (the ocho) and I hope that Stallone doesn’t get any memory loss from all the punches he’s taken.

One of my old favorite songs is by Cornershop titled Lessons Learned From Rocky One to Rocky Three, and I know those lessons all too well. To take a line from the last ER episode of 2006, specifically the bible study part… nevermind, I forgot what the line is, but basically the lesson is that you don’t take your fame, isolate yourself in a mansion on a diet consisting only of KFC buckets, and still brag to tough guys about being the most fit Champion dude. Its bad business my friends. Thats the lesson.

Now, with that old coon George Lucas finished up completing his six chapter space opera, finally, just in time for the holidays (Dec. 20), Sly Stallone, auteur and editor-at-large for Sly magazine, finally delivers the sixth chapter in his duo trio platter. The Flowering of Balboa. Until then, the heads up is that five clips packages and indeed the entire five movies leading up to the final film will hopefully be is on demand! My aunt and grandma yelled three times for me to turn it off today, but they can’t be right. Its comcastic!

Check out my friend Dan’s TV watching journal, including thoughts on the finale of Beverly Hills 90210 and subtle changes in tone on the Gilmore Girls.

Just Licking a Boiled Hot Dog is Enough (because my doctor has me on a diet)

Not that I am a real film maker, but I think as an auteur this film fits well amongst my catalogue.