Jesus. Next time maybe I'll get to talk to somebody.
A Friend: and shit
Me: Are you awesome? So awesome.
Me: Really? For serious.
Me: Have you ever revived dead babies? In the arms of their crying mothers. Twins, even.
A Friend: haha - see they need to have questions like that
Me: How many times have you saved the president? Two and a half (he had a stroke). And that's "Mr. President."
Me: hahahhahah stroke joke
Me: commence back patting
A Friend: did you stretch first?
Me: maybe that's why my arm hurts
Me: i'm getting funny again
A Friend: yeah, patting back before properly stretching can lead to injury
Me: ok i'm posting this one in my blog
"Mambo No. 8"
"Patricia"
"Que Rico Mambo"
This is probably only to say that my image of that sort of thing is woefully out of touch with the reality of the American dance band of the era. I'm aware that in the swing orchestras of the 40s, there was always stupid choreography to be found in synchronized gimmicks opposed between the woodwinds and the brass. But I've never seen anything this early that contained so many similarities to the soul circus that was a James Brown concert. Unless these TV recordings are later than the 50s, by which time Perez Prado wasn't popular in the US anymore, these have to pre-date the JBs.
I guess my big question is this: did JB like "Patricia?"
I have been a loyal subject of the Burrito King since the mid 90s, when we would regularly have LAN parties at a friend's place in neighboring Atwater Village. At 3 o' clock in the morning, hung over from extended twitch gaming and sleep deprivation, we would crawl out into the summer night to get greasy food tubes before one last round of Starcraft and oh god Jimi's doing the turtle again great the sun's up you can just kill me ok?
It is with this most sincere background of concern and familial respect that you should understand I say this: I think the Mexicatessen Dynasty has fallen upon hard times.
When I last drove into the lot on Hyperion, I immediately smelled something that was not grease or refried beans. I got out of my car, and mentally verified that I was in fact smelling pot. I looked around, and almost shrugged it off, when I noticed that the royal quarters, the house at the end of the parking lot emblazoned with a yellow "BURRITO KING" backlit coat of arms, had new signage in the window. I peered a bit closer and had a laugh.
There are Rastafarians in the House of Burrito.
I have done a number of shocking things recently:
- Taken some of the best photos I have in a long time (see bear pictures).
- Lived my life according to a tightly-planned todo list.
- Listened to Nirvana a lot, even in a non-ironic way.
- Seriously made plans to work out.
- Started cleaning my apartment, and more importantly, started putting things away.
If you're curious, the "Women Agaist Sarah Palin" wall is just behind Footsies, in HP.


