Odds and Ends

This Bug is back in a major way.  It may not seem like it but I was out of the loop for several months. The hows and whys are less important than the fact that I'm back now.  No longer relegated to blogging stealthily from work or distractedly from a PC other than my own.  Now it's just me, my keyboard, my ashtray and the freedom to tap tap tap away.  Of course, I can't come back without a Random Rundown to let you know what's been going on.  Shall we? Let's.

Eye Can't Believe It

Recently I started seeing spots.  Tiny, globular shapes were traipsing across my field of vision, along with some eye pain for about a week before I made an appointment to see the opthamologist.  What did I learn? 1. Those pesky little things I saw are called Floaters.  (Which is a term I always associated more with something in a commode but whatever.) 2.  There is no real explanation or cure for this annoying condition. 3. I have stubborn pupils. Those were the doctor's exact words after he administered drops that were meant to dilate my pupils.  It took 3x the normal amount for the desired result and it stung like a bitch.  I'll never whine about shampoo in my eye ever again. That's a treat compared to those dastardly drops.  Anyway, I'm just glad it's not a detached retina or a brain tumor. (Whew!) The symptoms are identical.

Ride 'em, Cowbug

I've officially added riding a mechanical bull in Vegas to my Bucket List.  It has to be in Vegas. Why? I don't know why.  Because I don't think Texas is gonna see This Bug anytime soon.  Now, this isn't some off-the-cuff split decision.  I've done my research.  Sure it looks sexy- but there's nothing sexy about flopping face first onto some rubber mat in front of a drunken crowd.  You have to be in pretty damn good shape to stay on.  Strong legs and knowing how to move with the bull's momentum help immensely. I think I have that licked.  It should be fun providing I don't flop face first into a drunken crowd.  Stay tuned.

Up In The Air

I watched this flick for the first time last week  There's not one detail in it that I didn't love. The man traveled with military-like precision.  He spent most of his time literally up in the air.  Flying the friendly skies and as the play on words go- with uncertainty.  It's a very grown-up movie about grown-ups and the childlike reservations they tend to hold onto.  I learned two things. Hatchet Men don't necessarily enjoy their job.  That's a huge misconception.  Also, the song O.P.P. can really be viewed as the ultimate cheaters' anthem.  It sort of gave the green light to unfaithful behavior by making it a cool club to be a member of.  I love the scene in which this plays by the way.  Clooney makes you want to crash corporate parties with him.

The Soldier of Love

It must be life's little joke on This Bug that Sade will be a stone's throw away from me next year and it's a wrap for any prospect of me getting tickets. Wait, did you read that correctly? Yup. Next. Year. She puts an album out like what? Once every six years?  She performs sporadically.  This hurts.  That's all for now.  Unless you would like to make a donation to my PayPal account.  In that case- all hope is not lost.  Now, I'm happy to get the kind that jingles...but I'd rather have the kind that folds, dig?  If you think I'm groveling, do remember that Love Is Stronger than Pride. 

"How much can you know yourself if you've never been in a fight?"

I didn't think it would come to this- but I seriously wish there was a real underground Fight Club I could join.  Somewhere I could beat the shit out of someone.  Somewhere I might get the shit beat out of me. If that's the case- the loss would be worthwhile.  Lately, the anger comes in waves and it's a dangerous thing. I'm starting to identify with the likes of Naomi Campbell (Runway Ripper and Cell Phone Hurler Extraordinaire) and it's disturbing. There are tons of anger management resources in the Yellow Pages but for some reason- no underground clubs to knuckle up. Rule #1. You cannot google Fight Club.  Rule #2.  You cannot google Fight Club! I am Bug's raging bile duct...

Color me Optimistic

I'm seriously considering an accent wall in my place.  I chose Peacock Feather.  I was pretty pleased with this prospect until I was told it looks like it belongs in a bathroom.  Well, it just might.  But at least I tried something new- which is what I'm hitting for.  Home Depot sells these cool little 8oz samples of any color you choose so I'll give it a spin before I commit to an entire gallon.  If it sucks, I can always cover it with paint left behind by my super when I first moved in.  Wish me luck.

There is a (Mixtape) God

Question: Who knows about mixtapes?  Put your hand down, youngens.  This is not for you.  You see, This Bug remembers when mixtapes were actually tapes. A good friend pointed out that they now come as CD's and it's just not the same.  I can remember copping Clue tapes from the Ave.  I can remember tapes popping from incessant listening. I can recall the loss I felt when someone got me for a classic tape. Well, thanks to technological advancement I was able to replace a Dirty Harry tape from 1996 that I got somebody for. (Love ya, Broham.)  Words can't express my elation when I downloaded each song in the exact sequence that I remember. I would post the link on here but I'd rather make heads work for it.  If you truly want it bad enough- you'll get resourceful the way I did or- you can just hit my email and I would slide you that link because it shows that you went the extra mile and that makes you, like me, a Hip Hop purist.  We take care of our own.