Day 12: Not Much

As me and Stella Bella walked through the park I thought about how I love being outside after the rain (I'm gonna use the last part of this sentence in a personal, right after long walks). Everything is so clean. But it could be cleaner. I wish there was a group of monkeys with brushes that gave everything a really good scrubbing. This would be cute and have a purpose. What with California having the 7th largest economy I believe this is totally doable. Fuck education! I want monkeys! Then after the rain while Stella did the whole sniffing thing, I could sit down in front of a pack of Golden Lion Tamarins and they could frolic in my beard with their little brushes. They would make my beard so pretty. As a side note if California does do this lets only stick to monkeys. I have seen "Conquest of the Planet of the Apes" where we use apes as slaves. The outcome is not good.

Day 11: Rain

After work I went and said a fond farewell to Annie. Had a couple of shots, giggled , drooled, said something offensive, and then rode off into the night. 15 minutes later I was home, out of my pants and watching Reno 911. It started raining. Then it started pouring. Then the power went out and I sat in darkness. Mental note, buy candles. Outside, where it was still raining (thank God it wasn't inside. That would have been fucking weird.) there was enough light for me to see. It looked crazy, a wall of water covering everything. I wanted a better view so I removed my socks and ran from door to the covered portion of my patio. In the fraction of a second it took me to get there I was soaked and wishing I had stayed put. The rain was freezing and I was shaking so hard I could have turned cream into butter. My shirt and boxers were wet and I was making a stuttering noise while I gazed at an illuminated billboard of "The Kingdom". "Why does a Jaime Fox movie deserve light while the rest of echo park is in darkness?" I pondered this question for a mere ten seconds before running from porch to bedroom. Under my comforter, I chuckled thinking of how brilliant my beard is gonna look tomorrow from all the extra REM I get tonight...that'll show ya Bri.

Below is a list of great beards from film and television that the Welsh Ginger Dan compiled. I know for certain that I agree with #1 and most likely that Obi-Wan should be on the list but it's gonna take a couple of days of pondering to comment any further...feel free to do the same. This is an open discussion.

Day 10: Avalanche

At 3am a Wookie woke me up. I answered it and stayed awake until 4:30am trying to solve the mystery of the problematic server. It resulted in me putting Senor Diggie on the case which was cracked by 7am. From 4:30 to 7 I heard the cries of Chewbacca 3 more times. Now, pay close attention...THIS IS WHY MY BEARD ISN'T GROWING AS FAST AS SOME WOULD LIKE! Seriously, 3am to 7am are the prime beard growing hours. To build the beard of dreams you need some REM. This is fact. Beard growing requires a mind at rest. The amazing thing about it is; the greater the beard, the easier it is for the mind to be at rest. There comes a turning point in beard growing where it happens all at once. Momentum is built. I personally know of a Welsh ginger beard who looked like he hadn't shaved for weeks, just stubble, and then overnight it was as if he was nursing a fox on his chin. It used to be "blah, blah, baby, blah" but now it's all "Cheerio! Chap! Chap! Pinch a fag, grab a pint!" What I'm trying to tell y'all is I'm just warming up. This is merely stretching. I'll start jogging soon and then running and then I'll be like a fucking snowball building mass. Rolling over any mother fuckers standing in my way. All the nay sayers will be drowned in cold disbelief reaching out for the only thing that can save them...my red curlies.

Day 9: Miscellaneous and Random

I came home and shat brown water. That's the beard expelling evil. I think I gathered this evil while eating and drinking tonight. A french dip...who would of thought. Dewey just got back from Korea and spoke of Dr. Fish. You pay money to Dr. Fish (apparently a puffer fish who watches the door. I personally picture him in a leather jacket) to be allowed to dip your feet in a pool of water that is filled with fish that love eating dirt. The fish clean your feet for you while you giggle and sigh. Dewey says, "It tickles and is kind of like a massage. If you spread your toes out they will clean between them." He told me you can see it on youtube (I haven't checked yet).
While at work, the love struck girls, specifically Georgie* and Malerie*, met their heart throb while riding in the elevator (one of who literally ran into him). When speaking of this I was surprised to find out several other people shared an elevator ride with him ( a minimum of 5) Which causes me to exclaim, "What the fuck is Keifer doing going up and down in an elevator so much!" Especially when this elevator is so unreliable that it can take up to 15 minute for it to open up on your floor. Smoking? Sorry Keifer but I got a ten spot that says Jack Bauer's weakness is the big C. Grow a beard it's like a permanent filter!
Also, I feel the name of this post, "Miscellaneous and Random" is reminiscent of the name of an old sitcom, "The Scarecrow and Mrs. King". Not sure why, maybe it's the "and".

* names were changed to protect the innocent.

Day 8: Bauer needs a beard

Entering the office building, I see Jack Bauer Smoking a cigarette. I feel safe going into the office since I am neither Persian, Arab, or of any other Middle Eastern descent. I need not worry about the torture in the basement. Torture that would not be needed if Jack Bauer had a beard. A beard is a layman's aura. People do not need a third eye to see it. If Jack had a beard he would only need to walk into a room and ask questions. The detainee would immediately see the beard and think "This man is not fucking around." All information given. No human rights violated. Getting on the elevator I turn to the woman who enters with me and say "Do you feel safer with Jack Bauer here?"
"Where?"
I point at him and the filming notices. She holds the elevator door open and steps out. Slowly looking him up and down she says, "Hmmmm. How'd I not notice that? Tsk...Tsk...Tsk" (Not sure how to spell the noise she made. It's like the noise that is made when trying to get a piece of steak out from between your two front teeth. Also, it was more of a leer than a look.) Apparently this sentiment is widespread since I heard one coworker throughout the day express that she was going to go make out with him and found another coworker standing on the stairwell motionless. When I asked her what she was doing she told me she was listening for Keifer's voice. Jack creates this much of a stir and doesn't even have a beard. Some might say that this is the reason. Those people are wrong. If he were to have a beard it would be dangerous. It is for his own safety that he does not have one. He wouldn't be able to walk down the street much less, see a movie, get a beer, go to a restaurant, etc. That's just the power of the beard. A baby faced Sutherland is a watered down Sutherland. Ask Donald...he knows.

Day 7: Beef and Cheddar

The booming of my heart wakes me up like an earthquake. Damn champagne! I am covered in a blanket of embarrassment that I kick aside to allow my foot to dangle in front of the fan. Stella snores and twitches as I try to find my lost sleep. No luck. I lay there for an hour conscious of my burning ears. Shakily, I get up and shower. The water washes the toxins away and I am ready to go to work. "Fast food. What other fast food places are downtown? I need grease!" I don't recall who shouted "ARBY'S!" but it was brilliant. An hour later it was upon us, $40 of roast beef. Once finished I am overcome by guilt and gut rot. I picture myself shaking in a shower with tears in my eyes like a rape victim from "Days of our Lives". Emotionally destroyed by the red meat bully. I finished the day in a sleepy haze.

Day 6: Champagne

I realized that I don't like champagne. One glass is alright, but more than that and your asking for a hangover. I started drinking champagne at 1pm. An hour later 4 bottles were killed and the pace slowed down. The Emmy for the most desirable behind the scenes beard in reality programming goes to...moi. If my beard had been fuller I would have known to not drink the champagne. Bigger beard, bigger brain. 10:30 at Bar 11 is a swirl of half closed eyes and staggering stances. As I battle my champagne dreams, I look into familiar faces wearing inebriation and acting without inhibition. Sentences cut off short while liquor glasses drop inches from destruction. Bad dancing, good dancing, and a deejay without taste. People hollar, forget, and then hollar again taking pictures to record tomorrows black memories.