Sunday, November 1, 2015
I still think about tuna, and it turns out Starkist owes me/us some money! Or, MORE TUNA!!!! See the CLASS ACTION LAWSUIT BELOW!
YES WE CAN!
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Friday, May 28, 2010
Can # 12 (Something) by AUG 20
VAL2E 1ZSWG 09
Well, it has come to this. We've been together for 12 cans of tuna. As you can see by my latest tuna-less posts, I have been trying to postpone this day for as long as I could. But I knew, at some point, it had to come.
I have a lot of things to get done, here. I want to say goodbye, report on my health, and thank everybody who's helped me so much during these last however long it's been. And also, I'm going to reveal the terrible secret I've been keeping from all my friends for over ten years. And, finally, I will end this blog with the word supercilious, which is something I've always wanted to do.
Okay, around noon it was reported that I went for a swim at the Mission Pool, and no one got hurt. When I came back I had myself a can of tuna...plain, out of the can.
Funny thing about this particular can, the last can of the sequence. Notice, the stamp is stamped backwards. In fact, in order to figure out what the stamp said, I had to look at it in the mirror. NONE of the other cans were like that. In fact, I do not know how a stamp can be stamped backwards. There is only one obvious conclusion and that is SATAN.
But, whatever. What have we learned? We learned that it's not about fixing things and surviving, it's about helping each other and moving on. What have we learned about food? We've learned that those stamps are silly. EAT ALL THE OLD FOOD YOU WANT. NOTHING BAD WILL HAPPEN TO YOU. LOOK AT RAY HALLIDAY! HE LOOKS GREAT!
In fact, I've never felt better. I had that tuna about a half hour ago and except for a very slight tremor in my fingers, I feel like a million bucks. Perhaps there is a slight, teeny headache, but that could be from the pool somehow. I have a slight tightnil;.,kj my chets,..;klj sgsadkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkag
Saturday, May 22, 2010
A little old Asian guy was walking past my laundromat the other day, and when he looked in and saw my underwear and socks circling around in the dryer, the dryer right next to the window, he stopped. In fact, I would say that he stopped abruptly. I would say that my socks and underwear going around in the dryer stopped him in his tracks. I watched him as he looked through the window, fascinated. Not all crazy and wacked out watching, but thoughtful, interested, a zen-like study of my socks and underpants all going around in the dryer.
I tried to figure out what his fascination was all about, but couldn't get a handle on it. He didn't seem mesmerized or anything, didn't seem drunk or homeless, didn't seem to be looking at my drawers with longing to steal them, or take them home. He was just thoughtfully looking at them. He, by the way, seemed to take no notice of me, behind the folding table, whatsoever. I was the only one in there.
And, he was only interested in my stuff. There were plenty of other dryers going around in there. Plenty of much more interesting colors and textures tumbling around. He could have looked at any of these. But he did not.
A few minutes later he actually left the window outside, and came into the laundromat, sat down, pointed his eyes, his face, his chest, and the whole of his attention toward my dryer, my stuff, slowly changing from what we call wet, to what we call dry.
Finally, it saddened me to have to take my stuff out, but time was up, no more tumbling.
As I left, he looked up, knowingly at me, and I nodded at him, letting him know that, yes, there would be other dryers that would come along in his life, dryers as interesting as mine. He nodded back to me, his eyes, ever so hopeful.
Now, this, as awesome as it may seem, in no way tops the time about ten years ago, when I was loading a dryer in that very same laundromat, and felt someone behind me, close, looking over my shoulder, into my dryer. When I looked back at the guy, quizzically, he simply looked into my dryer, smiled and said, "Nice load."
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Thursday, May 13, 2010
My friend Sherrie Flick has given me the take-pictures-of-your-beautiful-food bug!
I find myself making food for the colors at times, and I forget about the flavors sometimes. This was delicious, however, but there's no tuna in it.
It's this: Black rice and white beans! Spinach and cherry peppers and some tomatoes and wakame seaweed! And some mangoes on top!
It's nice! And I got to eat it, too.
I had to tip the plate in order to take the picture. My mango pieces kept falling off. In this one, you can see one go!
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
As most of you know, since April, uh, 22nd, I have not had any stuff like eggs, or bread or dairy or sugar or pasta or white rice or alcohol or caffeine. So, I was supposed to go for three weeks but I decided to let it go for three months because my buddy, Jim Kirk, quit drinking for three months and lost all sorts of weight. So I had to, you know, keep going.
The only caffeine I was having was some green tea every morning. After the three weeks was up, I switched, eventually back to my usual double espresso and two cups of coffee before my morning even began! But now they're DECAF espressos and cups of coffee. DECAF!
You see where this is going?
Today, through nobody's fault, I believe I was the victim of a mispour at Java Supreme, the coffeeshop that has treated me right for 18 years. That's right, I think someone slipped some caffeine in my cup.
Ooh, believe me, I could tell almost right away. My leg was going. And it was going and going. But that is not so unusual for me. I sometimes have a leg going. Then my hands started vibrating, and then my head buzzed. I see where the term comes from.
Luckily, there were people to talk me down. I ended up using this terrific story in my class today, teaching prefixes and suffixes and root words. You know, mispour has a prefix. And it's an unusual word, so it worked out fine. I danced around the class and I drummed on the desks. I jogged in place the whole three hours!
And I feel okay now, people.
But, weird, from such a lifetime coffee guy like me, I do not want to feel like that again anytime soon.
Thanks for listening.