A Few Good Things…

Not even waking up (abruptly) to a shitty charley horse on my left leg can stop me from talking about some good good in my life!

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1) Library book sales rule! You get to support your local library and fulfill your inner book slut. I forgot that libraries had reopened, and here are my latest additions to my personal library. Paid $8 for it all. The DVD has 3 movies and I got them for a whopping one buck. And the bottom book originally retailed for $45. Also, yes, I haven’t owned Waiting To Exhale until now (even though I watched its movie adaptation and listened to the soundtrack many times over).

2) All those millions spent to push inane propaganda to show you’re the good guy in the proposition, and it ends up being overturned. All together now: hahahahahahaha! I laugh because my temp delivery job from last year was a gig job, and I also voted No on that awful proposition.

3) Some people in my apartment building sometimes leave free stuff. Food, clothes, Dollar Tree shit that get sold for $10 at Goodwill, etc. Whoever was the person who left an unopened case of Trader Joe’s Almond Ring Danish, muchos gracias and take my air high-five.

4) My recent Covid test, which I wanted to take after attending that jazz festival last week and massaging bodies for a living, turned out Negative. I haven’t done a Covid test since February, and the lines for them are long again. But, hey, I’m proof that that masks, vaccines, and believing in science works!

What Time Is It? Jazz Festival Time!

(Note: I wrote most of this Monday afternoon, especially the first paragraph.)

I’m still kind of worn out from all the walking and dancing I did yesterday at the San Jose Jazz Festival, and I’m also coming out of a churro daze (I made churros for dessert and they were scrump-diddly-umptious). So if this post reads like someone coming off a hash bender wrote it, my lingering lethargy is the reason why. (“Oh, but isn’t that how you normally write?”–you) 

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Seen from the entrance of the festival.

Prior to getting there, I faced a few minor setbacks. I almost forgot my hand sanitizer at home. I made the very-Mensa move by buying my lawn chair the day of the festival. And only the expensive ones were in-stock at Target. (Oh, and I didn’t bother using the chair in the end. Easy return, I guess.) When I arrived in SJ, I couldn’t find the parking area where I made a parking reservation at. It was only until I settled for street parking that things started to look up. For one, street parking in downtown SJ is free on Sundays, and I parked just a block away from the main festivities!

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Some of the artwork spotted at the event. That’s supposed to be Kobe but he’s got his afro from his #8 jersey days and the face is giving me drunk Will Smith with corny B-movie villain eyebrows. 

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Views of the main stage while some event goers jam to the music. 

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Performer Tia Carroll with the Greaseland All-Stars on the Big Easy Stage. What a singer! 

The park at downtown SJ couldn’t hold all the stages in one spot (there are six stages and the park only accomodated two), and when I heard that there was a stage for Latin Jazz performances a block away, I made a beeline over there. 

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Not surprising, there were plenty of people getting their mambo on!

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Not pictured: me doing the same thing. Taking selfies while in motion is kind of tough. 

The main act and more is after the cut!

Continue reading “What Time Is It? Jazz Festival Time!”

Monday Hotness

Courtesy of this mid-90s pic of today’s birthday stud Steve Carrell, giving us precious eye bleach with his I-Can’t-Believe-It’s-Not-Fabio realness! 

And because some of y’all can’t get enough of The Office (like me), here’s a bonus clip featuring the best of Michael Scott getting his Casanova on. Not sure why they included his famous “bankruptcy” quote at the end, but if that moment makes you cream your panties, so be it. 

PS: yes I went to that jazz festival and I’ll post about it soon. 

Pic courtesy of this old Dlisted post (and damn that the video where that pic came from is gone)

 

Lefty Gang Rise Up

It’s not only Friday the 13th (albeit a special kind of Friday the 13th), but also Left-Handers Day! (At least it still is for another 69 minutes where I’m at. (Obligatory nice.) Hey, I was busy with work today.) Fitting that us evil lefties have our day on a Friday the 13th this year. Being a Southpaw mahself, how dare I almost forget about this day! 

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Listening To… (8/11)

Because I need some music while I work on creating an eBook, I shall play the finest Garbage for my ears!

I don’t know how I got the urge to listen to the bewitching voice of Shirley Manson after going without it for so long (how dare I!), but I’m riding the wave. Twenty-five years after these songs came out and they remain refreshing as rain after a drought. And if “Stupid Girls” spoke out against the try-hard bimbos of the 90s, the message can very much apply to the try-hards of social media and wannabe-A-listers from reality shows these days. The lyric “You pretend you’re anything just to be adored…” alone is enough to make the tragic eyebrows of a TikTok “influencer” fall off.

Also, Shirley’s red hair during that era is current redhead goals for me.

He’s Got All The Moves!

This is one of those times when the side action in a sports game is more spectacular than the game itself. And the dance moves of this security guard (?) of the Tampa Bay Rays is everything! He’s gettin’ down as if Maury told him “You are NOT the father!” after some crazy-ass woman accused him of being the baby daddy. (By the way, future accused baby daddies who go on Maury need to watch this entire clip to learn some dance moves in case they’re not the father). The exuberance this security guard radiates can power all of Florida’s energy grids and reduce a hurricane to a measly rain cloud. He’s that amazing. Forget the Z-list who-dats of “Dancing With the Stars”, Dancing Security Guard is the real dancing star here!

It’s Goat Time!

My last two posts were fueled by natural bitchiness. This one won’t be, I swear. (Not making promises about the next post, though.)

While many people are traveling far and away again for ‘Murica Day weekend, I gotta stay home because I have work later today. But, for once in…I forgot how many years, I rest on July 4th. And that’s a good thing because maybe then I can revisit a hidden local gem I discovered last week. I’d say it’s a brothel deep in the Oakland hills where all the ladies look like a 90s version of Carmen Electra, but it’s actually a field of goats. (No, that’s not code word for a brothel.)

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I do mobile massage and I travel around the East Bay Area for work. You’d think I’d be fed up with driving after my grocery delivery temp job from last year, but I actually like driving for work. (Until I encounter those idiot drivers who don’t signal/cut you off/drive so damn slow, etc.) Anyway, one of my clients from last week lives in Chabot Park, and after their appointment, I explored their neighborhood a bit. An unexpected turn onto a dead-end road led me to this land of billys, nannys, and kids. It’s been ages since I got to see some goats up close, so this was all fascinating for me!

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I would’ve pet that critter, but there was this obstacle.

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I tested that electric fence by tapping a tall piece of hay on it. I didn’t get shocked but the hay broke off.

Also, I honestly thought this was some kind of goat farm, and then my uneducated ass learned a bit on goat grazing programs.

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This dog was breaking the rules! Going around with no leash and all! Actually, that pup played guard to the goats.

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Those kids ain’t right. They were butting heads!

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Those lucky goats get to dine, combat fires, and reside with a view. (Look very closely to the left and you can see the Golden Gate Bridge!)

All that was missing from this little trip was a baby’s bottle full of milk.