THANKS BRANDY.

It's 11:06 on a Saturday night and I obviously have many important things to do--one of which is reading my friend Brandy's blog. One of her posts actually made Dr. Pepper come out of my nose. It burns so good.

Check out Brandy's short blog entry about the 8-limbed Indian toddler.

TWO THINGS FROM PORTLAND.

This sign, on the back of a stall in the Portland airport, shows one of the only official known uses of the term "number two," long known to be slang for "shit" or "poop." Not only does the instructional sign use the terms "#1" and "#2," but clearly defines them for those unfamiliar. Liquid waste. Solid waste. Thanks sign.


The second photo is of the not so great sushi restaurant where we ate on the way to the airport (possibly part of the reason I ended up in a position to take the previous picture). Why was this not a great sushi restaurant? Perhaps because it's sandwiched between a Supercuts and the Companion Pet Clinic. Not exactly the kind of place you want sharing space with your raw fish restaurant. If you can guess what kind of hair is in your california roll, your meal is free. Cat? Dog? Human?

Not pictured: To the left of the Supercuts was a Cash'n'Go check cashing place (do you call that a store? a shop? a business?). The Supercuts was probably psyched to end up in the storefront right next door. Because everyone knows after hippy meth addicts cash their checks, they'll probably want a cheap, generic haircut before going on a two day bender. Gotta look sharp.

Also not pictured: On two separate occasions Portland Embassy Suite hotel employees trying to talk us into going to a sweet drum and bass show. I don't even know what that is.

BACK ON TOP!

Detroit has again been ranked the nation's most dangerous city. Ambitious Flint, MI came in third, just behind St. Louis. I grew up 20 minutes outside of Detroit and in my life have spent probably ten days in the actual city. Why? Because there's nothing there; there's no public transportation--the People Mover doesn't count--and once you get outside of the main downtown area, you can tell things aren't so hot. Liquor store next to titty bar next to Church's chicken next to burned down house, on a street lined with torched cars sprouting trees through the front windshields. Not a pretty picture.

The rise back to the #1 most dangerous city in the nation probably starts with our corrupt mayor. Couple that with the complete abandonment of the city by business and commerce (except for GM, which seems trapped in those towers) and you're looking at a city on the verge of collapse. The Ford Field, Comerica Park, the casinos and a revamped waterfront were supposed to be the start of a renaissance; but when the economy sucks, none of that really matters. Money = safety. It's a simple equation.

Home sweet home.

Of course, some people might tell a different tale. I'm "from Detroit," but really I'm an outsider there. Born and raised in the suburbs, nice and safe. Which is why I'm a coward with zero "street cred."

I AM NOT A SMART MAN.

My hands sweat a lot. As a consequence, my laptop is often covered in an unpleasant, sticky dirt-sweat skin. So before I started working this morning, I decided to do something about it. I'm in Portland, staying at the Embassy Suites, so I don't have my normal electronic cleaning spray. Instead, in some sort of early morning fog, I took some napkins, wet them down and then added some of the nearest cleaning solution I could find. Shampoo.

Now, at the time, my brain was telling me that shampoo is the same as soap, which is the same as whatever that blue stuff is that I usually use to clean my computer. So I scrub off the laptop, then go at it again with a wet napkin--sans shampoo-- before drying it with yet another napkin. Not the most sophisticated of cleaning techniques, but I thought it would be sufficient for clearing my computer of my dirty hand-slime.

What it actually did was break my touch pad. I'm not sure if the shampoo washed something off the touch pad, formed a protective film over the touch pad or if I simply used too much water, thus drowning the touch pad. But one thing was certain, touching the touch pad no longer caused the arrow to move on the screen.

While this was terrible and kept me from doing the work I needed to do, there was something worse: the prospect of having to go to IT and tell them that I broke my computer. How? By washing it off. With what? With shampoo. Yes, ladies and gentleman, my brain told me that my hair and my computer were of a similar enough build that I could use the same substance to wash them both.

A few hours later, I guess after the shampoo dried off, the touch pad began working again. Thank lord.

BAD IDEA, GOOD IDEA.

BAD IDEA: This stupid campaign for a Good Day New York.


Do "The Good Day."

The instructions, in case you can't read them are as follows:

1. push to the left, push to the right
2. roll forward, roll back
3. clap your hands

Not only is that a terrible dance, but there's no way you can believe their claim that "everybody's doing it." I would venture to say that no one is doing it. And no one will ever do it.


GOOD IDEA: Taking a nap in a box.


I'm pretty sure this could become a viable business. Rent out your box to sleepy executives. If there's one place no one will look for you taking a nap, it's in a box down the block from your office. Plus, there's something about the smell of cardboard that makes me sleepy.