Je Voudre un Croissant

A thousand apologies, saheb. There was no update on my part yesterday, due to homelessness and Project Runway heartbreak. In response, maybe two updates today? Maybe not (already I no longer pine for the days when my prevarications alone dominated these pages). I am in the city of Pittsburgh today, a town built on the bones a hundred thousand steelworkers and coke forges, now known for having a lot of hospitals and robots. Also, terrifying mill-towns! Crystal meth says Hello I Will Rot Your Teeth Out But At Least You Don't Have To Sleep! It's certainly a strange place - old dead billionaires who called in Pinkertons to bloody the noses of nascent labor movements were also responsible for libraries, symphonies, and a seemingly infinite crop of tiny theaters (as well as Andy Warhol's haunted tomb).

Also, ketchup!

Tourism aside, it's a place that you kind of feel guilty for being in, because a million disapproving Polish ghosts are singing Sondheim-esque songs of working in steel mills and in the mines and you're like "I just want to play my gameboy in peace!" Also, everyone here is kind of sarcastic. That may just be because it's cold, or because they're all from somewhere else and had to come here because of their job - you'll recall my previous statements about the damned basically just getting on with their lives.

Right, wait, what? Bridges everywhere?

Rejoice, liberal schweinhunds, for Giuliani has dropped out of the race for president! So did John Edwards, who seemed to be genuinely kind of good hearted, but can't compete with Obama and Clinton's celebrity. Like any good reality TV show, the time has come in the race when the Bradley Baumkirschners of politics are tossed to the wind and allowed to come to rest outside of our purview. Which is always sad. I don't know why the producers always let the biggest jerks stay until the end, y'know?

THESE SHLAVS NEED TO GTFO OUR SCLAMS

I should already be asleep, so let's get down to brass tacks.

Point the first.
I have a semi-demi-hemi girlfriend, but a man cannot love a woman in the same way that a man can love, say, beer. Having grown up in either boondocks (west of bumblefuck) or a "college" town, I did not know the refined pleasures of beer that was not made of pisswater or drinks that consist of some bitters, snuck into the gaps between ice cubes through some kind of bartending legerdemain. Then I met my one true love, here in the city. Honestly. Brooklyn Brewery crafts ridiculously fine brews, seemingly brewed with the express purpose of enjoying them in the waning hours of the day, sitting in a sidewalk cafe in a trendy/filthy part of town, watching insane Russian vagrants mixing with the French hipsters.

Anyway, as the (endless!) summer finally draws to a close, it's very nice. Why weren't the preceeding months this nice? July was like being eaten alive by some kind of feral squirrel tribe. August was marked with a three day long family tiff. And September is entered in with whistful recollections of my youth, and tapping into a general sense of brotherly responsibility and affection.

April is the cruelest month indeed. Never be tutored by Ezra Pound.

Anyway, you know what's a bad idea? Right wing militant social organizations focusing around hating jews, gypsies, and gays. Sounds familiar, amiright? Well, those who don't remember history are doomed to be embarassed when they look back at themselves.

...Sorry, watching Flight of the Conchords, and it is hella distracting.

New York City can be a horrible place, because if anyone wants something, there are eighteen better people available to supply it. This is why I am having trouble finding both a place to work and a place to live. And why I'ma head to Pittsburgh. Sure, it's no New York. Hell, Brooklyn alone is bigger than Pittsburgh (no joke - it's about seven times larger in population), but it's cheap, close to people I like, and not as cutthroat.

Anyway. I'm a small fish, moving to a smaller pond. The humility needed to navigate a sub-par collegiate career is a difficult skill to pick up. The snide remarks and casual egotism tend to pale before the "Oy, we've no reason to hire you, pees awf" attitude that all of the evil British employers here have.

Speaking of the Brits - Pulp! Common People has to be among the finest songs written in the past fifty years. I was listening to it earlier today, and I tell you this - that song is the very definition of strutting music. While it plays on my headphones, I am ten feet tall and made of impenetrable adamantium. A good song to follow it up with? Clap Your Hands Say Yeah's The Skin Of My Yellow Country Teeth.

...There's a hoarse old man outside my window screaming "Who the fuck are you?"

Anyway, yes. The two go together like raspberries and ginger. And come on NME, Oasis as the best indie rock anthem band? You can go and suck on a brick until you realize that you aren't Pitchfork.

Did you hear that if we pull out of Iraq, proposed oil prices will go up to about $9 dollars a gallon? Betcha wish you'd waited before you bought that Hummer 3, eh? No? And you get all kinds of women, and can run over skyscrapers with it? Well damn, that is pretty neat. How much did it set you back? You got it used? Well, that's. Er. Hi!

Politics are not my strong suit, though, so don't ask me where or how I heard this.

With that in mind, might I draw your attention to this*? I like the midwest, kind of. I feel that it often gets a bad rap for... Jesus, the guy is still out there screaming, he's hoarser than Tom Waits... Anyway, it gets a bad rap for not being either New York or LA, or very often even humble Chicago. So it's nice to see something serious dealt with in a lighthearted but mature matter. Also, the joke about the woman thinking that getting her hair caught in the car door is an orgasm is pure gold.

*Work is not to be safe viewing plz.

GOD SHUT UP HOBO IT'S THREE AM.

Anyway, I'm on the train tomorrow. Happy labor day! Remember - were it not for the Trucker's Union, the US would still have the fastest, most efficient train system in the world. Ha ha, instead we have truck stops. Thanks a lump, boundless avarice.