Life Coasting

While there a about 47 things I need to take care of from haircut to new phone purchasing to finding a dentist I am consistently able to do none of them. I'm so good at it that it might actually be a skill. I think I'll call it Life Coasting. It also involves lots of keeping yourself busy doing nothing that moves you forward with your life goals. So given the options of going out for a couple of beers or finishing the next chapter in the book you started you would obviously go for the beers... every time.

I'd just say that I'm lazy, but I'm not a lazy person at all. When I get into doing something I work hard at it. I don't cut corners at my job even though it would be very easy to do.

There are just so many shiny social distractions gleaming at me every day and night of the week that doing anything but Life Coasting would be downright adult. I'm hoping to change it up so that I'm only spending part time in Never Never Land and part time in Gets Shit Done Town.

And now a random offensiveish photo I found on the net.

Keep it Swayze!

Keep it Swayze! That's my new way to say good-bye to people.

It stemmed from the idea of using Swayze as an adjective.

It's almost like swanky and crazy combined.


Here, I'll use it in a sample sentence.


"After we met those hot, coke-fiend girls at the house party the night got particularly Swazye."


I genuinely think the late actor would have appreciated the homage.



As a guy named Ritik pointed out, the term Swayze could be used to describe anything that was Swayzelike. This could include dirty dancing, robbing a bank with an ExPresident mask on, skydiving, or simply stiching up your own wound.

R.I.P. Patrick. You were at times cheezy, but mostly you were a cool fuckin' dude.

Y'all keep it Swayze now!

Kranki

I Love Me Some Crazy

I have a problem.

It seems that in order to be really attracted to a woman she has to be a bit crazy and have serious hurt potential. San Francisco provides a vast bounty to choose from. It offers up everything from Serious Daddy Issues to Attention Deficit Disorder to the Classic Manic Depressive with serious committment issues. They're interesting and complicated creatures that hold my attention far better than sane, well-adjusted women. I'm not happy about this but it's a reality that I've had to accept about myself. It's probably a biproduct of growing up with a mentally imbalanced mother for so long. At any rate I'm trying to ignore my instincts and stay the hell away from them long enough to get to know somebody who is well-adjusted and genuine. Unfortunately my brain tends to register this as dull even when it isn't. I tend to rely on close and trusted friends to meet them and give me an unbiased opinon as to whether they might be good or bad for me. In the last few months I've made a bit of a breakthrough that has enabled me to recognize if I'm making a bad choice or being drawn to an unstable lady that might blow up in my face. Now, armed with crazy detecting radar my new mission is to find one of these saneies rather than one of the crazies and stick with them long enough to feel connected. The problem is that in order to overcome the attraction boost that a crazy woman has the "sanie" has to be physically more attractive than her looney counterpart. I may have to become an accomplished musician or invent something brilliant that will make me a boat-load of money.

Perhaps there is some mildly crazy and compatible lady out there for me. You'd have to be at least a bit touched in the head to get involved with Krankiboy. I realize that I just spoke about myself in the third person. Normally I feel that is a right that should be reserved for mobsters and professional basketball players but it amuses me and it's my blog.

Somebody should create an Alcoholics Anonymous type group for people who continue to date crazy people who are bad for them. It could be a very lucrative venture to make a 12 Step program to help people wean themselves off of dating people who end up hurting them. That way I could call my sponsor if felt myself slipping and the urge to call that nutjob narcisist chick back and my sponsor could talk me down.

"Kranki, don't do it, my sponsor, Harold, would say. It will feel good for a while but you've come so far to throw all your progress away."

My imaginary sponsor would then try and set me up with fantastic women who had been pre screened by a staff of experts to ascertain that they are free of madness, mania, or compulsive hurtful behavior.

Maybe Tough Love would be a good name for the program. Although that might be too generic.

Hi Elaine!

Hi Elaine the Pirate!

How's your weekend going so far? I had a pleasant but no sparks date with a nice, mature, stylish woman but the chemistry only really extended to the conversation and it wasn't one of those "I'd like to suck her face" connections. I tend to think that if it's not all the way there that it's much neater not to try and squeeze sexy from a stone even if the stone is a lovely person whose company you enjoy. Definitely one to place in the 'Friend' file, rather than the 'Naked Fun' file.

In the past I was worried that people I know would read my blog and make judgments about me but now that I have a more cozy and 'select' readership I'm going to say fuck it and just write whatever I damn well please once again.

My energy towards dating is really starting to wane so I'm sure the blogs will get progressively more amusing, more bitter and more kranki. It's just lovely to have a written record that my grandchildren will one day be able to treasure and read aloud to their children at Christmas time.

I'm still thinking about the space suit. You see, Joe, Elaine is a talented and crafty lady. I'm still doing a mental cost benefit analysis of having a handmade semi-personalized spaceman outfit and just what such a delightful garment should look like. It will at the very least be useful if I decide to alienate my friends and family and dedicate myself to roaming the greasy, city streets. It will make it far easier for the San Francisco locals in my hood to both nickname and identify "Crazy Spaceman Dood."


Talk to you later, Elaine.

hugs and such,

Kranki

Abstract Blue Lines

So, yeah. Here are some abstract shots I took in the nocturnal section of the Berlin Zoo. It was too hard to shoot the animals in the super low light so I messed around with some cool light effects.

I'm trying to decide if I like them enough to blow up and frame and if so which ones would go well together.

Man, kind of a boring blog tonight. At least there were pictures.

Babble Time

Met up for a date with a lovely designer I met. There was good coffee and a nice mix of serious and comedic conversation. We even discovered we have a mutual friend that neither of us knew we had that doesn't even live in our city. Small world. She asked some questions that went into serious territory for me. I was doing most of the talking and things got a tad bit heavy duty and I wasn't totally comfortable sharing so much but I also felt at ease and figured that if it was going to work out she'd hear the stuff sooner or later. I forgot the three or four things that I actually wanted to ask her. I walked her back to her bicycle and for some reason got really nervous. I didn't know if she wanted a good bye hug or a kiss on the cheek or if she just wanted to get the hell out of there. I proceeded to start to just ramble in a caffeinated blur of comments trying to perhaps be amusing and lighten the mood and prolong the time we were there so I could read her body language. This seemed to really confuse her which made me more nervous and caused me to talk even faster with slightly disjointed trains of thought whose connections were barely understandable to my own mental synapses. I guess I must have liked her and found her intelligence and sense of style slightly intimidating. I pretty much crashed the date into a brick wall. I'll send her an email and attempt to asses the damage and try to make a clever self deprecating salvage of the events. I could just be being really hard on myself. Perhaps she found it endearing? Doubtful. Next time I'm just going to fake confidence instead of being myself. People say to be yourself but that's a bunch of bullshit. You can get there eventually but until you start to grow on somebody and they become attached to you and dismiss your baggage as lovable quirks it's best to fake a blend of self-confidence and depth.

I just wish I'd recorded audio of my date. The level of babble was impressive. Maybe even a personal best. Perhaps I'll bring a voice recorder on the next date I go on. Then I could figure out how to post audio for your listening amusement. Somebody should get enjoyment out of my awkward derailed attempts at romance.

Effort, Fear & Sandwiches

Is it inherently more worthwhile to do something difficult than it is to do something easy?

Does it matter if nobody else notices that you did something difficult or does it only matter what you think about your own abilities?

Is doing for others that you don't know altruistic and unselfish or just stupid?

If you're afraid to do something, does that indicate that you should do it to grow as a human being?

Why build anything that you yourself won't live to enjoy?

Does a sandwich taste better if you have to wait in line for an hour before you get it?

New Logo

A new logo for a new blog? Or perhaps just a bit of inspiration to write for a month or so before getting bored and going back to a mainly dormant blog state. Most everybody I know who had a blog back in the day no longer had one. It was once a little cult from which I met many lovely and talented Aussies. I'm glad there are a few of us left. The taste of 2004 blog stardom was sweet but those days of virtual wine and cyber roses have gone the way of the Do Do. Enough with my yammering blogstalgia.

My kind and talented friend, Joe whipped up the new logo. Did I already say that he's talented? I worked with the kid before he was a profeshanul back in the day. We didn't get to finish the kids book we started but I hope to work on something with the lad from Oz in the future. You can find his stuff over at...
The Shiggy Blog

Tell him Kranki sent ya!