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Y'know that thing...

Y'know that thing where you keep turning up the volume, but you can't get it loud enough?  It's like that.

Gloss Drop by Battles

You might call this an early form of social media.

If only it were so easy.

Stealing everybody's thunder.

For Jesse.

I was in the car yesterday with NPR on in the background and I heard mention of Uganda. My ears instantly perked up and I turned up the volume to listen. It was the end of the story, so I didn't catch much, but I just wanted to let you know that it's because of you that I heard it. So many other words and places and stories droned on in the background but, for no personal reason other than knowing you, I care about Uganda now. Thanks for that.

I just...

I just ate the best quesadilla of my life.

El Farolito, San Francisco CA (24th St/Alabama)

Y'hear?

Don't be wrong.  Listen to Megan.

You know those folks that fall in love with inanimate objects?  I kinda feel that way about the LA River.  I wanna get to know it.

I need this. Seriously - need.

Mannie Fresh, you're a fool for this beat, boy.

Watch "Mack 10 - Connected For Life ft. Ice Cube, WC, Butch Cassidy" on YouTube

The bathing suit of my dreams.

This is why the internet was invented.

Cinema's Greatest Mirror Pep Talk from FilmDrunkDotCom on Vimeo.

Boom.

July 21 - August 18 2011
LA Mart
1933 S. Broadway
Concourse Level
Los Angeles CA
90007

Reception   Thurs July 28, 6-9p
Gallery Hours   Tues-Fri 12-5p

Lights. Camera.

Undone.

Well, whatever is on this to-do list isn't getting done.

Welcome to Minnesota!!

Welcome to Minnesota!!  ...I just saw that tagged on the last car of a freight train. Best illustration of "Minnesota nice" ever.

This pretty well sums it up.

NOYB. NOMB.

What other people think of you is none of your business.

- Paulo Coelho

Get outta here.

Want Happiness? Don’t Buy More Stuff — Go on Vacation | Moneyland | TIME.com

I love routines.

Ten o'clock and I'm the first one home.  I was also the last to leave - fifteen hours ago.  It's ten at night, but it's still close to 75 degrees outside.  We're getting everything we complained about missing last Summer, and I couldn't be more pleased.  Stiffling heat isn't so bad when you've been penned a few hundred feet above streeet level in an climate controlled, modern day factory for 12 consecutive hours.  Nope, sweltering heat is not so bad at all.  Maybe it's the schadenfreude.

The hot, still air when I walk through my front door is like a "welcome home, honey."  After a full day of clicking and whirring, phones ringing, questions, objections, hollow smalltalk and meeting reminder dings, the silence of a closed up empty house grabs my attention. 

It's hot and stuffy - and I like it.  It smells like me and my stuff and my place.  My animal brain, adept at reading complex layers of scents like my primal ancestors, calls up old memories.  They are the same memories I subconsciously revisit everytime I smell this smell and that calms me.  I love routines - especially the kind that take no effort.

Beeyooteeful.

Goodmorning, Eddie.