…and the Case of the Needle-Nose Pliers.

Sorry for the late post. Judging by the emails I received, at least two people were upset. Again, sorry.

 

I came to work this morning and found the IKEA project from hell waiting for me. There were hex wrenches, washers, and screws of various lengths, just waiting to connect A to B through C and on top of D/E/F. After three hours of hex wrenching and cursing, I discovered the set to be short exactly one washer. I pretended not to notice, as my hand was bleeding from the crushing in the needle nose pliers. It is never a good sign when you need outside tools to complete a project supposedly contained entirely in-box.

 

Before I bash work on the Interweb, I should remind myself of the Delta flight attendant who lost her job for blogging about Delta, and including some (no-so-racy) photos of her on planes, in uniform. Oh we, the poor oppressed bloggers.

 

I’m starting to realize I don’t have much to say in this space. I suppose if I had a job that offered anything close to inspiration, things may be different, but alas, a reader will have to settle for musings such as this one:

 

People in LA are really attractive. This is obvious, but it really adds to the character of a place when uncomfortably attractive people are in front of every building smoking cigarettes. Your average cigarette smoker in Tucson is simply not that attractive, and usually hanging out at bus stops.

 

Speaking of social anthropology, is cigarette smoking directly linked to bus riding? Look closely at people waiting for the bus; an abnormally high percentage smoke cigarettes.

The Brotherhood of the Sketchy White Van.

There is a certain sense of camaraderie felt between men forced to drive around in sketchy white vans all day long. We drive the kind of van favored by serial killers and kidnappers the world over. Take for instance Gary Hilton, the guy who killed the hiker in Appalachia some time back. It surprises me not that he drove a sketchy white (Astro) van. I found this itemized list of stuff found in his car, and number 163 I find particularly disturbing.

 

Our day got really long yesterday. Christina Milian, a songstress of questionable talent, was having serious trouble with a rented G5. So we sat around the studio for a few hours, watching a real tech guy work, and drinking water. Overtime is a beautiful thing. We have to work early today, so we need to get going. Sepulveda, 101, 134, Burbank. Not too much traffic when you work at 10/11 AM.