Author: Jefe

On The Movie Quote I have Been Hearing In My Head Every Time I Listen to the News

“Today I settle all Family Business”

– Al Pacino, The Godfather

I remember how disappointed I was when, after weeks of counting and he lost, he still gets to be President (I mean, I don’t get to be President, I’m just sayin’). I also remember in the first days and weeks after Sept. 11th that I was actually a little glad that we had Dubya in the White House, because he clearly was not gonna put up with this shit. Time to strap on the guns, Dad, watch me kick some ass, just like you did.

But who’s he shooting at, and why? (I’m back to wishing the Democratic Stuffed shirt had pulled it off.)

The who is about to be Iraq. The whole country. Not Saddam Hussein and his weapons of mass destruction, which apparently are both highly lethal and seem to have some sort of stealth capability. Not the people who perpetuate his power as a dictator, not his personal Goerring’s and Himmler’s. Not the people that are oppressing the citizens of Iraq, who according to even the White House, are the most intelligent well eduacated population in the Arab world. That’s who were gonna end up shooting, and blowing up their homes, and maiming their children. Just average guys and girls, living out their lives under the thumb of a nut-job and just trying to get a loaf of bread on the table.

The why? Best I can tell, its Family Business, ’cause I don’t feel any safer.

On The Ultimate Futility Caused by Toothpaste on Your Sleeve

She’s English. Her friend needs to use the phone in the office, and I let her, at first against my better judgement. But She’s blonde, and very cute, and I am lonely lately, so any feminine attention at all is like cold pizza at 3 a.m., not really what you want, but good enough to get you through. I really don’t want these two stangers in my office. Not until She speaks, that is.

“This place was recommended to us by collegues, so you had better make sure we have a good time.” Coy, without the slightest hint of demanding. The wink was built in to her voice. And that accent just floors me.

She and her friend retreat into the club, and within minutes are having so much fun they can’t wait to buy a souvinir. We’re out of T-shirts, sorry ladies, the waitress says. But a little constructive digging around in the office produces the last one, hidden away in the back of a shelf behind a box of utterly useless junk.

She beams when I bring it out. She’s let her golden hair out of the pony tail. She’s wearing a sassy little denim jacket with a pink support ribbon (breast cancer?) She touches my arm, looks me directly in the eye to thank me for finding the one thing that can make Her supremely happy at that moment. Her eyes shine with the possibilites of all the ways I might make Her happy in the future. I look down at Her hand, pure white and soft on the dark red sleeve of my shirt, almost in awe that She has deemed to touch me.

And there’s a toothpaste stain on the cuff of my sleeve.

Another perfect romance down the drain. Fuck.

On My Natural Expression

I go through life with a bit of a scowl on my face, it would seem. I am not an angry person, anymore. I used to be quite the sour-puss, with a healthy case of small man’s disease from always beeing the kid on the far end of the front row of the class picture. I got beat up A LOT when I was young because I could not control my temper. As I grew older, I realized that I look pretty serious most of the time, and it made me difficult to approach, so most people didn’t bother. I made a serious effort to change that about six years ago. Those who know me now know that I am anything but grumpy most of the time. I’m pretty outgoing. “Just because you ARE a character doesn’t neccesarily mean that you HAVE character.” In my case, I like to think that’s not true. I am, frankly, a fucking blast.

Anyway, I got asked seven or eight times tonight “Dude, you okay?” because I had my usual serious, thoughtful expression on my face. The reason I don’t walk around all day grinning like an idiot is because I’m not one. The fact that it was the same guy asking me what was wrong with me over and over again about every ten minutes has only served to accomplish one thing.

Now I’m in a bad mood. So leave me alone.

On Throw Pillows at 3:42a.m.

I know it’s been a while, but this isn’t really for everybody.

I’m on the downside of the second of two really ass-end days in a row, capped off by screaming at lots of people that I like who didn’t deserve nearly what they got. That’s tacked on to the end of a really shitty week that capped off a handful of really shitty weeks, so I’m doing what I do to cope. I’m watching West Wing, and I’ve dragged out Sports Night re-runs, and I’m lying on the floor with a throw pillow from the new couch under my chest because it helps when my ulcer is acting up, and I just buried my face into the pillow for a moment.

And it smells like you.

On Having Nothing to Say

That can’t be possible, can it? Has the Great Jefe at last been silenced? Not likely. I swore when I started blogging that I would write her the way I was taught to write in all things, with honesty. Will there be Posturing? Sure. Self-Serving Self Promotion? Without a doubt. Will I Offend? God I hope so. Will I challenge? Without question. Will I make numerous unedited spelling and typographical errors? More than likely, I’m a bad typist.

Seriously, I just haven’t been moved to write much lately. Work consumes a lot of my time, and it’s such a fun job that I don’t feel the need to do much else sometimes. So, as I have done before, here are just a few of the things that are going on.

ONE. It’s almost X-mas time. What is Dubya getting us all for X-mas? WAR! Fun, huh? Just what I was hoping for during the yuletide season, an excuse to go and blow the fuck out of a nation of little brown people, inspiring even more people around the globe to hate us. George, you’ve been watching a little too much Lord of the Rings, there is no such thing as real Evil in the world, Axis or otherwise. It’s important to remember that ALL MEN ARE CAPABLE OF EVIL, but few are purely Evil. Also, evil men don’t fight and die on battlefields. Farmers and Grocers and Mechanics and Salesman and fathers and mothers and brothers and sisters and daughters and sons do that.

TWO I’m going thorugh a serios financial re-evaluation. It’s depressing, even when you’re doing well.

THREE I’ve been seeing more movies again, and it feels good. God, I want to be making movies.

FOUR The Dog still chews up everything, but has finally figured out that she’s not in charge of the house. A positive step for someone whose , let’s face it, not too bright, even for a puppy. She’s awful cute though.

FIVE And this is the big one. I’m trying not to think about Zuzia leaving, but its about a month away.

SIX I’m turning 29 next week. Cool, huh? Not really. It’s the last birthday I am ever gonna have, trust me.

On ALRIGHT ALREADY!!!!!

Ok, seriously, big changes are coming to the ‘wrangler, I promise. Also, more movie reviews and pez stuff.

Really.

On Being a Big Dork

AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

Don’t these people undersand what they are doing to me? Don’t they know I bought the first one already? Don’t they know I’ll run right out and…..

Oh. I guess they do. damn.

On Stupid People

The world is absolutely littered with them! Anyone who has problems with profanity (Hi Mom) had best tune out now.

I am absolutely fucking sick of people telling me that their own mistakes can not be corrected because, “That’s how the system works” or “That’s not how our computer is set up.” Lots of blog readers are bloggers themselves, or computer geeks of some ilk, so you are all well aware of this. However, every other goddamn waste of skin walking the planet hasn’t figured out the little nugget of knowledge that I am about to kick to ya.

You are smarter than your computer.

I promise. No matter how stupid you may be, you can beat the glowing box on your desk at checkers. It is not God, nor any other lesser deity. It is not out-foxing you. It is not non-negotiable or intolerant. Even if your meager brain only has the power to continue telling your organs to pump blood and breathe in and out all day long, even if your melon isn’t good for much more than a bad haircut and poor lifestyle choices, even if you are so dumb that you find the conversations that you have with your Chia-Pet stimulating, if you are anything more than a total EKG flat-line, you are smarter than your computer. It can count to one. That’s it. 0 plus 0 = 0. 1 plus 0 =1. That’s how they work.

So, today, when my insurance company, my bank, the cable company and the Best Buy delivery service all told me that they felt as if the glorified Speak and Spells that they have becomes slaves to were managing to reinvent the wheel while they were having trouble opening the Jell-o pudding cups because the direction were multi-syllabic, I asked for all their names. Here now, in an effort to prevent my Gracious Reader from having to deal with these troglodytes, are a list of the meat sacks that I have had to deal with just in the past few hours.

Brian Hill of Progressive Insurance Co.

Izzy Balazio
Scott Stanush of Best Buy Delivery Services.

Gary Sherman of Wells Fargo Bank.

Wanda Jackson of Time Warner Cable.

These people are Stupid. Almost completely. Steer clear of them. Do not loan them money. If they ask you for directions, speak slowly and use small words. If you find yourself competing against them on Jeopardy, even if the Daily Double comes up after you said, “I’ll take ‘Things I Couldn’t Possibly Know’ for $400, Alex”, bet it all brother. You’ll still do all right.