Ah, so I’ve been pretty much on hiatus for the past three weeks. I haven’t minded a bit. But just to get back into the hobby I enjoy sometimes, a few points of catch up:

• Bored on March 1st, I took the one eighth guard off my clippers and cut off all of my hair proper. Then remembered it was March 1st, which in theory meant I was supposed to grow an annoying ironic mustache for March Mustache Madness. The combination of the two would have left me looking like a younger G. Gordon Liddy.
  

  Surprisingly, the prospect of looking like a younger G. Gordon Liddy did not bother me one bit. What did bother me was the notion of participating in ironic hipster bullshit in my thirties. I opted against the mustache.

  Unfortunately, I forgot that I’m all skinny and lanky like, so when I arrived at work the next day, I was mocked for looking like this guy:

  
  

  ...even though I wasn’t wearing any blue makeup. This in itself was not the end of the world. But, to be a good sport, I had to spend the rest of the night standing up for myself in R.E.Meze, which grew tiring.

  them: “Why do you gotta always write such depressing songs, you whiny little queer piss ant?”
  me: “Hey, everyone feels sad sometimes.”

  Har-de-har. And around and around we went. Okay, I lied. I was wearing the blue makeup.

• Earlier today I found myself in need to shop for the sort of home products that have not been sold inside the city limits since the seventies, so I took the light rail out to Hunt Valley. While waiting for the train, I observed a cleanup crew employed by the state which consisted of two retarded people and three supervisors/caregivers. I’m all for giving the mentally retarded a sense of self-worth through employment, but THREE caregivers? The caregivers pretty much lounged around and chatted, occasionally looked over their shoulder and degraded the retarded verbally. Retarded or not, a thirty year old should never yell at a fifty five year old “Boy, you blind if you can’t see that!” There must be a more affordable way to employ the retarded. When I changed trains at the Timonium Station, I saw another crew, this time with one retard and two supervisors/caregivers.

  When I arrived at Hunt Valley, while I was walking through the parking lot, some well heeled respectable looking fellow came up to me and begged for a cigarette. When I’m in the city, I know the precise manner to express to someone to kiss my ass, but I was in foreign territory, less familiar with what I could get away with, so I gave him one. He then begged me for a light. That’s why I hate going to the suburbs. White people always gotta be begging for something.

• Speaking of racial humor I probably shouldn’t be allowed to get away with, yesterday at work one of my coworkers was describing the process he was going through trying to get a headstone for his father’s fresh grave. This prompted another coworker to bring up that he had read that Rosa Parks’ grave plot cost 25 thousand dollars. This caused another coworker to joke “There goes the cemetery.” Everyone laughed and another guy said, “God. Could you imagine if that happened here? All the corpses in the jewish cemetery would have dug themselves out of their graves and marched another 15 miles closer to the Pennsylvania line. Except for the Orthodox community, of course. G dash D love them for keeping it real.”

  For shock.

  I got a really good laugh from the whites, blacks and jews in the group for that one. They even stopped making Michael Stipe jokes for a moment.