pirates, look-alikes and some poorly braided chin hair

" you do not do Jack Sparrow wearing Matrix boots, for crying out loud."

huh.

or so says the awfully bearded man to my left, a Jack Sparrow Hollywood boulevard impersonator of that multi-million dollar hotness that is Johnny Depp.

irony be dammed, this man apparently decided to take matters into his own hands after impersonators such as.....



...this man messed it all up with a bad wig--->


"why is some idiot out there trashing that costume?
These guys just put on a wig, a red head wrap, a white shirt,
a vest, and they would walk around Hollywood Boulevard
with an English accent. I put together my own costume.
It was accepted by the public."

accepted by the public hey? i dunno about that one, but hell it could be funny to go take a picture with these guys. anyone in? i say we try and outdress them and then talk mad trash about their outfits. maybe a dance off? break dancing? the shopping cart. i dunno, i think the possibilities for fun are endless....whose in?

hey baby need a ride? (part deux)

The other day at the criminal justice building (ok, i kinda just like typing that) i came back from lunch and fell prey to this situation:

every time you enter the building you have to go through security. the metal detectors are exteremely sensitive and as such go off almost every single time you walk through. As a consequence, everyone who sets off the detector has to stand still and be subject to the "wanding ways" of the hand-held metal detector beepy thing. So, the other day, the machine beeped as i went through and as such was subject to a search by a security guard who was about half my height and unabashedly sporting a "pimpstache" that really was so terrible, it should have its own porn theme music. but i digress. As i was standing there, this scene unfolded:

pimpstache: so *beep* is it hot *beep* out there? *beep*

me: uh, yea, its kinda *beep* hot. i mean, we just walked *beep* to lunch, so we're kinda all warm right now from *beep* that.

pimpstache: or *beep* is it just *beep* you?
(pimpstache then begins to smile as if he has crafted the most original pick up line in the history of the world).

me: (mouth drops to floor in sheer horror. quickly assess the situation...two options: 1) tell him to fuck off in usual offended manner, or 2) consider that this is a man that i have to see everyday, who carries a gun, and at least has the guts to wear a pimpstache, so who knows what he's capable of, and quietly thank him and walk away quickly. )

me: oh, um, aren't you nice. (walks away quickly in manner of someone who is desperate for a bathroom).

gahhhh!!! what in the hell makes that ok? i mean, i'm at work, not next to a construction site. this is the criminal justice building, not the electric pussycat. jesus christ. this pick up thing is getting worse people. anybody else have this problem??

dude, where's my childhood?

ok, i knew this day would come, you know when people would start pairing off with engagement announcements to follow, but I guess, i just never thought it would be so soon. I mean, here's the thing: at this point
I can barely manage to get my own shit in line yet. meaning that a) there's about two weeks of laundry on my floor, unpaid bills, unheard voicemails, and about oh, maybe 70k in debt that keeps building and building even as i type. I guess the thing is, i still feel like a kid in a way.

the notion of us actually, finally, growing up is kind of scary. not to say that i'd gladly trade in the days of being 22 and having no fucking clue where my arse was from my elbow, but it all seems so quick and, quite frankly, it's almost like a landslide of diamonds and bows and pitying looks from relatives. kids i've known since 7th grade are getting engaged, having bachlorette parties, and i'm still learning what i want to do when i grow up. seriously, i have no idea.

am i behind or just selfish? either way, i guess i don't really mind. i mean, its just all so wierd. It started about a year ago when we heard of the news of one girl's upcoming wedding to the love o' her 9th grade life and from then its just been trickling in with more and more and more friends going away for the weekend for weddings, stag nights and engagement parties. and the mad thing is, its not stopping...it just keeps growing and growing. I mean, i am happy for people who have found the person they want to spend the rest of thier lives with, but it does beg the question, why exactly am i suprised by all this?

and yet the answer still escapes me.

but, i guess the interesting affect that all of these engagements have on the non-married is that we edge closer and closer to becoming the Bridget Jones of every dinner party. Haunting our relatives with our unabashed late-blooming nature. but more importantly, it makes me just wonder, where's the fire people? and why is it that because i'm slightly slow and quite taken aback by all this marrying, engagement shit that's happening to people who i knew when they liked vanilla ice and c and c music factory and wore flannel shirts that their mom's bought them from Nordstrom in an effort to look more grunge? its just all so...wierd. but then again, it may always be wierd. who knows? as long as i keep getting to eat cake and dance to the macarana and get wasted, i guess i can't really complain.