gallas13

i. the loquacious scottsman

there are few things on this planet that are more annoying than an overly talkative person, even if to their credit said person has what would otherwise be a lovely brogue. for the first 5 or so minutes you feel hypnotized by that rich accent, but then they continue. . .on and on and on. . .minute after minute. . .until after the fiftieth or so "aye," and all you want to do is bitch slap them.

an editorial venting, brought to you by yours truly. in hopes that one day you'll find yourself stranded in glasgow (or glesgee as they say) and in similar straits, and know, in your heart of hearts, that someone out there empathizes.

ii. the self portrait
not to point the finger - and i'll certianly make some enemies by typing this - but do you ever wonder about folks on this site that have folder upon folder of self-inflicted photographs? one or two will do. we get a sense of what you look like, and that you are probably are, or were at one time, trying to lure in some sort of paramour. but it's a strange vanity that i just can't quite get my head around. maybe if it were folder upon folder of glamour shots with a smattering of sepia-tone period shots as well - as though someone went to the mall and put in a significant amount of personal investment - then i'd care. or better yet, folder upon folder of mug shots. i mean that says street cred like a pistol to the face. but eighty variations on a theme of you with your digital camera? hmmmm. someone needs to reassess that "l" word methinks.

iii. why i love my dealer.
because when i call, he is always already incredibly mashed, and says, "tommy. . .[long pause]. . .yeah. . .[another long pause]. . .gimme like, an hour." and sure enough, with fine swiss precision, there he is, EXACTLY one hour later. with the goods. and special thanks to him this week, because his product was all i had to get me through one of the most crippling cases of food poisining i have ever had. bless you mr. man. bless.