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Today's post brought to you by despair

Yesterday was busy. Work was hectic.

Aside from my appointment yesterday afternoon taking longer than I anticipated, things went well. I managed to hand off the title for my car, so once I get a bill of sale written up, it is gone forever from my name.

Yew Haloo, as they say on Mary Poppins.

Any way, milling around after just missing my train last night, I ran into two women who were very lost. Between the two of them, they spoke what amounted to (perhaps) the English of a 3 year old whose head was crushed by a pair of ineptly wielded fence-post pliers. After a bit of work, it became clear that they were trying to get to South Jersey by bus, and that they were looking for Port Authority.

They were in the wrong, county, much less the wrong borough.

I had just missed the train, and it was going to be another hour before the next one, unless I took a local. I made a fast call to information, then Port Authority, and found out that there was no human way they were making their bus via mass transit that night. It was already 10 and change, and the last bus out was at quarter to midnight, which was well after they would have made it to Port Authority, if I could have actually explained to them how to get there.

The girls were worried that the train station was unsafe, and followed me around like ducklings after a stray cat the whole time I was pacing on the phone. One of the girls, Isabella, asked me to get on the phone with her beau a few times, but every time she handed me the phone, he would hang up.

At any rate, decisive action was needed. I had them change in their train tickets, and we split a cab down to the city. I managed to haggle the cab driver down to 30 for me, and 15 for them, after he dropped me off. They seemed amenable to this plan, and the cab driver actually cut all of us a break by the end of it. As I was trying to explain to them what they needed to do once they got to Port Authority, he realized I was being a good samaratin, and said he would do thirty for the whole shot, so I gave him the 30, and told them to give him a few dollars for tip when he got them to Port Authority. Hopefully, they were not sold as human slaves.

Just as we were leaving the Bronx, my cab driver, Gregory Matthison, asked me if I had Jesus in my soul, as if that explained my actions somehow. I told him that my soul had a big neon no vacancy sign. He started to Preach the Word™ , and i told him that he could abandon all hope of tip if he kept it up. The rest of the cab ride was broken Spanish from the back, low jazz from some AM station, and me looking all about as we approached the city from a vector I had previously never come before. Gregory spoke no Spanish, and smelt faintly of licorice.

I made it home in excellent time. I can only assume my co-passengers, whose lost way I paid for the most part, made it to their destination as well. I hope they did, because if not, they are still wandering around midtown on the West Side, or, as I said above, were sold to some group of religious fanatics as slaves.




In totally unrelated news, unrepentant's latest post has me jonseing to caber toss.

Steven Segal needs to contract rampant incurable cancer.

This collection really wowed me. I love Japan, I love Polaroids, just...damn.

Better than this collection due to thoughtful emotional provocation, but not as picturesque throughout.

Comments

( 20 comments — Leave a comment )
online_stalker
Sep. 15th, 2004 07:15 am (UTC)
whoohoo!
THANK YOU for posting the link to despair.com. i saw the ineptitude poster once, loved it, and wanted to buy it for myself and some of my friends, but i didn't know where to find it. now i can buy 100.

actually insanity might be more fitting for my mood lately. :-/
delascabezas
Sep. 15th, 2004 08:00 am (UTC)
despair is the best
i always loved sloth
_hallow_
Sep. 15th, 2004 07:17 am (UTC)
HAHAHA! OMG, Jesus in your soul. SO funny! Love how you told him to shut up or forfeit his tip.

P.S. I hope Danny the Drunken Central Park Nerd didn't get Isabella and Co.
delascabezas
Sep. 15th, 2004 08:05 am (UTC)
heh
yeah, that would suck. alot.
cricket186
Sep. 15th, 2004 07:19 am (UTC)
Steven Segal
That is on such a high level of wrongness I can't really say anything but "fuck".
mrshellion
Sep. 15th, 2004 07:39 am (UTC)
Re: Steven Segal
Waiwaiwaiwait.

He made an ALBUM???

These are the end times.
wangch61
Sep. 15th, 2004 07:40 am (UTC)
Re: Steven Segal
it either the end of times or Segal has the biggest balls in the universe
mrshellion
Sep. 15th, 2004 07:44 am (UTC)
Re: Steven Segal
Only the French, my friend. Only the French.
delascabezas
Sep. 15th, 2004 08:06 am (UTC)
eh, i dunno
it is not liek the french spawned him!
and the germans - man, they have some winners too...
mrshellion
Sep. 15th, 2004 08:09 am (UTC)
Re: eh, i dunno
Yeah, but the French like him! All the reviews were singing the album's praises. And I'm sorry, but I cannot accept that he might be good. I just can't.
delascabezas
Sep. 15th, 2004 08:17 am (UTC)
true
but a country with such good taste in cheese, wine, and seafood can't be all wrong - maybe i should see if i can find an mp3...
delascabezas
Sep. 15th, 2004 08:05 am (UTC)
tha horrah
ain't it though?
mrshellion
Sep. 15th, 2004 07:41 am (UTC)
Also
delascabezas
Sep. 15th, 2004 08:06 am (UTC)
Re: Also
mrshellion
Sep. 15th, 2004 08:07 am (UTC)
Re: Also

Don't I know it!
delascabezas
Sep. 15th, 2004 08:09 am (UTC)
mhm
you like looking down at people's bottoms
mrshellion
Sep. 15th, 2004 08:10 am (UTC)
Re: mhm
Well! I never!!

Okay, maybe once twice.
delascabezas
Sep. 15th, 2004 08:16 am (UTC)
um
if you are counting the number of times you don't...
yeah
silentire
Sep. 15th, 2004 12:43 pm (UTC)
I have too many weeks of missed posts to catch up on to actually red this whole thing, but I saw your comment about Mary Poppins and must say Yew Haloo back to you.

I think I might do a Mary Poppins themed senior collection. Mmmm yess...
delascabezas
Sep. 15th, 2004 01:05 pm (UTC)
gah
the thought of poopins fashion scares me
( 20 comments — Leave a comment )

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delascabezas
The Son of the last of a long line of thinkers.
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