I am amazed at what people are searching for when they come across this blog. There’s a lot of interest in Dan Dakich’s wife… I have to wonder if she is hot, not having googled her myself (why bother if it just takes me directly here?). If anyone actually thinks I am her due to our similar names, just throw that idea in the hot garbage. Not sure what my connection is to defaced and graffitied sluts (in the literary sense). I can now see however that no one really gives a damn about juice so you’re welcome on the secondary blog.
If you’re so inclined to read about recipes, juice, and what I eat on a daily basis, feel free to visit whatjacquieats.wordpress.org. This is my latest halfassed attempt at a food journal, for once, without wasting notebooks at a time. I felt it would be unfair to what 2 readers I have to clog my existing blog with inane food lists in between rants.
This shit is incredibly addictive. We recently bought some at a blockbuster that was closing and upon learning its delicious properties want to order more. We ate probably 3 tubes of zebra corn.
I started my busy day in a grumpy mood because everything was going wrong. I couldn’t get the cat out of the living room. I couldn’t get the garage door to close. I tried to start and de-ice my car with the wrong set of keys. Etc.
Later on I went on a mission to drop some boxes to UPS (something which went wrong on Saturday). I did so at the UPS downtown. Being so close I also visited chocolate cafe and got a Mexican hot chocolate (chocolate with cinnamon and chile powder- not bad) to cure my grumpiness, bought some treats for my nice Aunt and talked to a girl with interesting glasses. I asked her where to find the bathroom and learned that it had its own special elevator to the basement and may or may not require a non existent key.
Eventually with the help of building security I found said elevator and embarked on my bathroom journey down a lime green abandoned hallway with many doors. Upon leaving the elevator I tripped over a hallway speed bump (who is driving down here?) and walked past many warnings that I was being videotaped (I don’t really believe them, it looked like a decent place to die down there and there was nothing to steal). Eventually I found the restroom which was unlocked and tiny. There were two stalls which doors could not be opened at the same time due to space.
Upon doing my business I noticed a lot of stall scrawlings about “for a very good time call….” and “wanna get high? call…..” etc. Are visitors to an old building which boasts typically cigars, jewelry, and chocolate so salacious? It made me wonder what I would find if I called these numbers. I don’t necessarily want any weed or good times (well maybe the latter, but I’d need more info) I just want to know what kind of person finds it necessary to deface every bathroom no matter how dingy or nice. In Athens, OH you cannot find a single bathroom without some kind of sharpie’d nonsense graffiti regarding bar “shuffles”, feminist garbage, rage against those who’ve scratched out prior scribblings or who’ve been awful to eachother, or who loves whom. Even when a bathroom is remodeled or painted, within days it is defaced again. Likewise, yesterday I visited a bar near broad-ripple with plenty of similar contact information laden graffiti, some scuttlebut about a missing robot and a picture of a chihuahua who wanted some weed.
I’m of course most interested in the phone numbers; I have to wonder if it is the dealer/loose woman who is writing these numbers or someone seeking old fashioned revenge. I just kind of want to know who is on the other line, to call them and find out the deal. Anyhow on my way out of this shithole shitter I hit my head on both sides with the purse hook and stall after banging my door against the other open stall door and forgot this idea until just now. Seems like a good photography/interview project/blog/article for the near future.