Religious People Are Peculiar

And thus began Mary's troubles.

Religious People Are Peculiar

Well, where the fuck is he? Wait, who are we talking about here?

My Friend's Kickstarter Campaign

These days lots of folks are funding various projects through Kickstarter. It seems there are many films and CDs that owe their existence to contributions from fans and potential fans. What I like about that is that it fosters a sense of community, that people who might otherwise be completely uninvolved in film projects can feel (and rightly so) that they've made a contribution.

I myself haven't yet tried this method of raising funds, though it is quite tempting, particularly with regards to Grandmother Winsome's Variety Minute. My friend Ryan has a campaign going right now, to raise $5,000 for Walk-Ons, a short student film set in the world of paintball.

Click here to check out his Kickstarter page. I've never done paintball, but Jason and I feel that Grandmother Winsome would be quite good at it, for she knows the advantages of using others as shields. Perhaps Ryan and Andrew will ask her to take part in the fun.

Don't Ship Anything Through Greyhound

Greyhound managed to lose my friend's luggage several months ago, and the company still hasn't properly reimbursed her. In fact, Greyhound hasn't even responded to her emails. The following is a photo I took a couple of weeks ago at the North Hollywood station (where her packages were supposed to end up), which shows just how easy it would be for something to be stolen from Greyhound. These packages are only an inch or two from the open door.

No Physical Address, But I Do Have An Email Address

What is the deal with homeless people owning cell phones? First of all, how did they afford them? And even if someone was passing out free phones, there is still that monthly charge. Can a phone really be a priority to someone who is homeless? And then, who the fuck are they calling? If they have people they can call, then why are they homeless? Or do they just call each other? (“Hi, Frank, what are you up to?” “Oh, nothing much, I’m just outside the 99 Cents store, begging for change. Rita says hi.”)

I was at the library, and a very smelly guy sat next to me with his bag of clothing. He started taking out his clothes and spreading them out on the table, which was my cue to shut down my computer and get ready to leave. He then took out an iPhone and charger, and plugged his phone into the outlet. Now this is a man who was literally covered with dirt. He looked like he’d taken a long nap on a pile of dirt. Then when he woke, his first concern apparently was not brushing the dirt off, but charging his iPhone. I do not understand the world anymore.

Does this guy have a Facebook page? A Twitter page? A blog? I’d love to see his Twitter updates: “Peed under a bridge,” “Found a shirt in a dumpster,” “Had an argument with a building.” I hope he’s also checking out the dating sites. In his profile: “I’m looking for someone whose shopping cart is at least as full as mine, because I don’t want to support anyone.”

I really wanted to ask the guy how he could afford to keep a cell phone but not take a shower. But I didn’t want to insult him, and I wasn’t sure I could get across to him my sincere curiosity. So I let it go. But, hey man, if you’re reading this – and I guess you might be – please leave a comment. Thanks.

Greyhound Is A Horrible Company

Today's reason to avoid Greyhound: Shitty drivers. As I was driving along Magnolia Blvd., I passed the North Hollywood Greyhound station. A bus was parked on the side of the street, with its hazards on. It then, as I was next to it, suddenly pulled out into the street, still with its hazards on. Fortunately, there was no one to my left, and I was able to swerve into the other lane to avoid being smashed. But seriously, to hell with Greyhound. We need to take this company down.

Learning About The Homeless

There is a big, old, bearded homeless man that I often see when I am out walking in my neighborhood. Today he was bent over, searching through his plastic bags. Perhaps he was looking for pants, because he had no pants on. What he did have on was small black lacy panties. And now I don’t know what to think of anything anymore. He sort of killed black lacy panties for me, but on the other hand, I do have a new sort of respect or understanding for the guy.

A Comforting Thought

If you're ever feeling a bit down, just remind yourself: Hey, at least Ronald Reagan is still dead.

Toenail Beats Clippers

The clippers were meant to cut my toenails, but instead one of my toenails (big toe, left foot) broke the clippers. Look, I've been told before this that my toenails are horrifying. But that's being so negative. Instead, say that they're strong, they're sturdy, they hold up under pressure, and they're ready to take on all adversaries. And even when you beat them you can't keep them down for long. My toenails have spirit.

Although now I need to buy new fucking clippers, which is really annoying.