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Tuesday, February 26, 2002
city of hate (1.4)
my insurance adjustor calls me today. she tells me to rip up the paperwork that my previous adjustor sent me. i've now had 3 insurance adjustors. my insurance company is encompass. when i first called to report my car stolen, i gave all my information to the "national" hotline. they hooked me up with the regional dallas office. i gave all my information to them again b/c they hadn't received anything from the "national" hotline except a claim number. my adjustor was out for the day so i spoke with another adjustor. two days later, a different adjustor called me. she said she had to get an "affadavit of theft" and asked me for the same information i gave the other two people. i asked her if she had any of my information. nope. she sent me a bunch of paperwork. then she called me yesterday to tell me that she's not my adjustor. there was a mistake. they already had the paperwork that she said they didn't have. she told me the name of my adjustor who happened to be the original adjustor that was out of the office. so my real adjustor finally calls and tells me that i need to fill out an affadavit of theft. she says that she will mail it to me. she also asks me for my full name.
i know all of my information by heart now. i mean i actually know my insurance policy number. i know numbers for every person in the encompass dallas regional office. lupe. nancy. lucy. lupe is a bit on the sour side. she told me twice over the phone that i was being recorded. i think she thought this would stop me from cussing. i know the names of both the helpful individuals at freeman's honda on I-35 where the car's getting repaired. keith and barbara. keith is a 20-something ex-hood. he's reformed, but he knows more than a little about how to break a steering column. he told me that the kids who broke my steering column weren't very good. barbara is a mother of 2. her daughter drives a camaro that has been stolen 3 times. no kidding. of course, she says, camaros aren't as popular as hondas. that was some time ago, she said, when camaros were popular.
i'm thinking of having a small bomb dropped on dallas. we have to have some leftovers. from this whole war thing. right? it doesn't have to cover the entire metroplex. just the perimeter of downtown and the infomart. promise.
from david edelstein, film critic for slate:
The death of that young daughter, whom the hero has barely noticed, triggers a change of life, an awakening. Deaths of children always do. My wife once worked for a publisher who wouldn't look at manuscripts about dead or imperiled children, and I used to think he was a simp, a gutless philistine—that a real man would be able to look into the abyss. Now I've come around to his point of view. I'm tired of having to fight back tears and rage over the deaths of kids in second- and third-rate movies. In the Bedroom gets away with it because grief is one of its subjects. So does Jude the Obscure (the novel, of course, not the recent movie). And the world is probably better for Mahler's Kindertotenleider. But that's it for me. No more cancer kids in moronic fantasies. No more cheap epiphanies over the bodies of children. No more.
man. i could not agree more. no more using retarded people in high-gloss, hollywood schmoozefests either. no more washed up actors trying gain sympathy by playing simpering victims or virtuous cripples. moronic fantasies. cheap epiphanies. amen.
old site, but damn it's refreshing.
Sunday, February 24, 2002
city of hate (1.3)
snippet of exchange w/police officer over phone:
p: it's a honda
me: yessir
p: most stolen car in america
me: uh huh
p: they crack the steering column see
me: yeah
p: i wouldn't recommend driving it
me: it's not driveable?
p: well, you got a flathead screwdriver?
city of hate (1.2)
things stolen from my car in that shithole dallas:
8-10 cds including radiohead's amnesiac
1 cd player
my co-worker's suitcase
1 jacket
things broken:
battery in trunk
smashed driver-side window
license plates in trunk
broken steering column
scrape on front bumper*
misc:
about 1 lb. of dirt seems to have been dumped into my car
*as they left the parking lot, these kids clipped a jaguar. i only know this b/c said jaguar was parked next to where my car was. a wealthy-looking woman dressed like stevie nicks came out of the restaurant about 10 min. after i had walked out. she noticed the damage to her jaguar and said "huh," hopped in, and sped off. apparently stuff like this happens enough to not even warrant a sideways glance. i have no freakin' clue.
my friend rob on what makes great art:
"it's when you like it so much, you want to steal it."
Wednesday, February 20, 2002
speak up and more slowly
so i went to dallas on a business trip. dallas. the big d. the city of hate. i drove my car like a good citizen in order to save the company money. and what happens? what happens my friends? it gets stolen. seriously. in front on a restaurant. in broad daylight. the cops found it almost immediately, which is pretty amazing. they drove by the car with it's hood open and a 16 yr. old kid lifting the battery out and putting it into another car. two 5 yr. olds were unscrewing the license plates. a well-oiled operation. so i have to call my insurance. i have to get a rental car. i have to go to the pound where the police had it towed. let me tell you something about pounds people. you do not ever want to go to the police pound. the only thing more depressing than than seeing a bunch of hopeless people staring at crumpled metal is probably the morgue. the clerk level 2 behind the window asked me my business. i'm here to pick up my car, etc. etc. "please speak up and more slowly" she said. at this point of the day i was ready to reach through the tiny hole in the glass and attempt to wring her neck. but when confronted with a line like that, you have to write it down. so i took out my pen and wrote that down. there's more. oh so much more i could share with you about this lovely day. but i'm tired. and i feel sick from the tamales i ate at the fancy restaurant where my car was stolen. so good night austin. and props to you dallas. you kicked my ass and then some.
don't worry though, bitches. i'll be back for another round.
Friday, February 15, 2002
does anyone aside from kevin kelly think this won't turn out bad?
do we live for this stuff like we live for watching the wwf? do ethicists really do anything other than serve on panels?
Sunday, February 03, 2002
>:o
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