Friday Morning Hodgepodge

On the subway this morning, I happened to glance down at myself and I realized that I'm the Captain of the Goodship Gross-Nasty. The hoodie that I wore today has like three mystery stains on it, there's also some cat hair issues, and I'd be lying if I said it didn't smell a little funky. I've made jokes on this site before about how funny it is that I dress like a shabby hobo, or oh ha ha I look like a refugee but, you know, seriously, I think I might actually be a homeless person that somehow missed his calling. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I didn't follow that path it's logical conclusion... I'm not really an outdoors-y person... but there are times when I think it might be better for everyone if I gave up working in an office and living in an apartment and just took up residence on street corner with a change cup and a permenant scowl. It would be what my high school guidance counselor would call "achieving my potential."

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I try to keep things positive on ZFS! because I'm not really an angry person and, besides, a lot of other bloggers out there do the negative, cranky schtick already and I don't think I really have anything to add to that particular subset of the internet. That being said, there is one thing that I would like to publicly come out against; it's time somebody said something and I guess that somebody has to be me. Here it is: You know dreadlocks? They suck. Like, for real. They're just ugly and I hate them so much, I might have a stroke. Let me give you a for instance. On American Idol this season, there's this one kid who's handsome, has a great voice, and will probably do really well on the show... except for the fact that he has fucking gnarly dreads. Check it out, here's Jason Castro. See what I mean? He looks like the top of his head was replaced by a Play-Doh Fun Factory but for turds. So yeah, people, enough with the dreadlocks. You're giving literal meaning to the term "shithead."

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That picture up in the corner there doesn't really have anything to do with anything. I just really like gay cowboys. Maybe a little too much, actually. Like, I think the gay cowboys of the world are a little creeped out because I keep showing up at their gay rodeos. It must be their hats.

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Before I moved to New York, I had this image in my head of the weather here always being grey, snowy and cold. Not sure where this came from (probably the movies, which is also where I got the idea that love conquers all and you can wipe out aliens with computer viruses), but nonetheless, when I thought about this city, I always thought about it as a winter wonderland. So days like today are nice for me, at least from a ideological-fulfillment perspective. I'll grant you that it's less nice when I get dirty snow in my shoe and my sock is wet for the rest of the day. That's no funskies.

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I'm wearing this sweater that my father bought me for Christmas and I'm still, two months later, not sure that I'm entirely on board with it. It's not a bad sweater, don't get me wrong; it's very comfortable and warm and good for days like today. It's just... I don't know... it's very "Dad-ish." It's black, with these big, light grey, dark grey, and black diamonds on it, which are accented by these smaller purple diamonds. It's not Cosby-sweater bad, but it's definitely in the same ballpark. Something Dr. Huxtable would wear if he decided to dial it down a notch, maybe. Girlfriend says that maybe I should just tell people that I'm wearing it ironically, but I honestly don't think it's bad enough to where irony is a factor. But it's also not good enough to be all that stylish. It's like the metephysical idea of Limbo made corporeal in soft cotton. Anyway, it's weird, but also kinda snuggly.