Nothing In Particular.

As mentioned in my last post, here's a bunch of random photos, taken with my beautifully new and stylish camera. See: cheapest one at Target.

I like it 'cause it's better than using the camera on my cell phone (even a dead monkey can figure out this new camera -- that's good) and has always been awkward to manuever in public, trying to look inconspicuous while snapping photos of all sorts of shit. I think I'm a pretty meek and mild photographer. I have no balls. I always feel someone's gonna turn around and accuse me of being a pervert when I'm taking a photo of a national monument. When I wanna snag a shot of a good looking plate of food (for the occasional restaraunt review) I can only imagine that someone's going to take offense or I'm gonna be questioned. How do you weirdos do it?

No need this time around, 'cause this time around...I never left the house.

With these "random" pictures, I really tried to get random. Seeing as how I never leave my place unless I have to, I'm left with going all papparazzi on my living room and any hallway closets. It kinda defies the purpose and general idea of "random," but what's done has been done. I should have written, "random shots of a one bedroom apartment." I'm not sure how magnetic and enthralling that description is, but the truth is the truth -- this may not be the greatest post, but it certainly won't be the worst. Maybe, like, second to worst.

First up:

For a brief moment in high school, I was infatuated with religious relics and icons, mostly of Buddha, and mainly in statue form. You can argue this, maybe even deny yourself my embarrassing revelation, but I was also into taking baths while pouring through Sears catalogs and drinking Coke until I pissed purple. I go through phases. Weird, confusing phases.

With this picture, I wanted to showcase my bathroom, which has taken on a much more grander, larger form than, say, a collection of wet hair piles and acne creams. That aside, you'll notice my "Asian theme," complete with dragons, sumo wrestlers, sushi wind-up toys and a wildly weak collection of Buddhas. While low in numbers, the main lot succeeds in quality over quantity, and is well justified, 'cause they can probably hurt if dropped on your foot. That's gotta count for something. Also, a blue shark. From Joe's Crab Shack. Duh.

This is a pile of DVDs. Stacks and stacks of movies overcrowding my little apartment. I've explained my problem before, but yeah, it's almost pointless to analyze it. Too much money thrown down the toilet, I will admit, but I absolutely love watching movies. In my mind, I have this ultimate goal of being able to watch every single film ever, or somehow coming close to it. My thinking is that the only plausible way to accomplish this is to single out specific genres or eras. I think I can call it a wrap on "80's horror flicks," closely seconded by "anything I've ever been in."

There's a few theories on how I can manage this, and here's one:

With the advent and rise of Netflix, OnDemand, whateverthefuckelse, it's almost pointless to actually buy anything these days. Pay your standard fee and get on with it. Nearly anything you want all up in your face. I have a hard time coming to terms with that, because...I don't know. I still feel the need to buy everything I watch. Sure, I'll go nuts over RedBox every now and then, but in my mind I have this nagging insecurity. I think it has something to do with the horrid thought of never finding that specific movie on DVD again, and everything with being haunted by never owning "Ghoulies 3" on DVD. My theory is full of holes, yeah, when you figure you can buy anything on the internet, from fluffy pillows to penis snowglobes for bachelorette parties. I'm readily able to admit my need for instant gratification, so my transformation into a conservative spender will have to be put on hold. You know what's not being put on hold? "Ghoulies 3," bitch.

Wait, did I not even mention how I'd feasibly watch every single movie ever? Ahh, too late now 'cause we're moving on here we go:

This is one of my favorite wall decorations, and believe you me, I've got plenty. From Van Gogh replicas to posters of a half-naked Danzig, I'm an advocate of anything that'll disguise boring white walls covered in oddball stains.

This "Camp Crystal Lake" plastic cutout/wall thing does just that. I'm not the biggest fan of the "Friday the 13th" series, but this is so amazingly cool. I've always liked fake set pieces to movies, like a Magneto helmet on your fireplace mantle or a group of plastic bananas from "Congo."

Good stuff.

It's no surprise that I'm nuts for coffee. I've also made it pretty clear that I'm stupid over Christmas, too. Dunkin' Donuts' "Mocha Mint" coffee combines the two in a cute, forest-green package, offering up enough holiday cheer to make it seem like you're not jumping the X-Mas gun, but not too little to pass up as another bag of beans. "Mocha mint" isn't entirely Christmas related, but it comes close, and keeps me from killing myself after an endless bout of post-Thanksgiving depression.

The snowman can sway opinions, but it's fine. I'm all for celebrating Santa Day as early as November first. I do not give a fuck that "thanksgiving isn't even over yet" before I put up the tree and it's billion, breakable ornaments. I do not give a fuck.

I've yet to actually taste it, but I'm sure it's pretty good. If it was based in categorization, I'm in the category of being too lazy to even press start on the Mr. Coffee, so this will probably sit on the countertop until June, or until it becomes a nuisance and gets in the way of something even newer and shinier. I'm still confused by flavored coffee, though, but I love it. Do they add sugar beforehand? Is there even sugar? Are they literally just coating beans in some minty, chemical infused syrup? Since it's sweet enough, it cuts down on half and half usage, and that's a good thing. Usually, my coffee looks like liquid piano keys. Now it'll look like dirty piano keys.

Ahh, a pile of Star Wars. Something like this (in my kitchen) is the type of thing that keeps life livable. It's like my go to Happy Place, a place of zen and good vibes and other hippie shit. Whenever I'm feeling down, I grab a beer and stare lovingly at a mess of Bossks and Gamorreans. It's dominating a nice portion of my shelf space, but I don't mind giving up such precious room for Star Wars. Did you know that I like Star Wars?

I spent a while trying to individually buy all characters, and over time, I came close. There was a few I could never find, those that were always overpriced and the red, Imperial Guard. That mother is so hard to get a hold of.

Again, I could have easily bought everything and more over the internet, but the chase is better than the catch, I 'spose.

When we played the Phoenix ComicCon, me and Davey spent that Saturday roaming the aisles and kiosks and upside down cardboard boxes full of comics and toys. It's pretty amazing, really, knowing you can close your eyes, spin around and run into anything that, when bought and taken home, will make girls never, ever like you again.

I found a guy selling loose figures for, like, a buck each. That was a Goddamn great deal, and I walked away with a grocery bag stuffed full of shit I didn't own, and shit I wanted multiple copies of. It was pretty amazing. I finished my collection in under five minutes, and all it took was warbling through one of the longest shows of my life. There is nothing worse than playing live with the beginning stages of a flu. Turns out it was just a regular, everyday cold. I'm such a pansy.

Hey! I guess that's it. Pretty fun, no?