If a hipster says something cool, and no one is there to hear it, was it really cool? The Capp Street Annual Baobab Tree Shearing Contest!

Many hours later:

I'm walking on Capp Street when a barely smoked, still lit cigarette falls down from somewhere in the sky, missing my head by about a foot. A woman, oviously a crack whore, walking down the street at 8.45 am in a miniskirt, sporting a full cast on one leg. A christmas-themed gingerbread house, mostly intact, lying on the back alleyway next to the original cellaphane packaging.

An hour later:

The christmas-themed gingerbread house, broken into a lot of pieces. Rain. Lots of it.

After it cleared up:

A guy trying to break into a car with a coat-hanger, and a woman smoking nonchalantly next to him. A dark haired bum with a 40 tries to punch a white-haired bum with a shopping cart. After the white-haired bum dodges the punch, the dark-haired bum throws the 40 at the other bum, which breaks with a loud crash, sending beer and glass shards into the street.

20 minutes later:

Two nude girls atop two horses being led by two nude men down Mission. A hip girl and a possibly hip gay guy are coming out of the 16th and Mission BART station. He is lamenting: "The worst thing about homeless people and crack... well, there's many things... but they always leave shit on your stairs."

a few hours later:

The brilliant Dr. Hal. He's kind of like Dr. Robert (from the Beatles' song: "He helps you to understand") except he answers questions. You give him tips and if you're lucky, he will recite poetry.

a few hours later:

I'm on an ancient Green Tortoise bus careening down the freeway south, south, south to daly city. We go bowling till morningtime with Dr. Hal and his band of freaks. I haven't slept in 24 hours. I love my new "modus operandi". I just love it. I revel in my love for it every time I send a work-related email, which is fairly frequently.

What could possibly make me so happy, you might ask. I stopped signing emails with that universal sign of business politeness, "thanks". I don't do it out of disrespect. I do it out of a desire to eradicate the monotony and complacency so prevalent in our daily work duties. I do it to outsmart the work ennui. I also do it because in my world, most emails signed with thanks just translate as "do the goddamn work already". The thanks, tacked on at the end, is made to soften the tone, to make you more susceptible to their pleas, and it makes people weak. I will not succumb!

And in my world, the thanks that's lacking at the end of my emails translates into the invoice they're going to receive at the end of the billing cycle. So thanks for paying me and please use my services again, sucker!

Necessity.
Idiocy and other virtues.

ennui without order

• bike snob NYC
• ultraclay
• a tam in australia
• new york hack
• mikebot
• eurotrash
• this fish needs a bicycle
• on the face
• spicy children
• myasorubka
• massive red-eye
• jewschool
• malapoesia
• patently silly
• waiter rant

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