The day’s looking up, and I didn’t even need chocolate!
Monthly Archives: December 2011
I was trying to decide whether or not I should post about it; I don’t want my blog to be a downer all the time. I want to write about fun, uplifting topics. I want to be entertaining. I want readers to come here, knowing they’ll leave with a smile on their faces. There’s too much sadness in the world. I don’t want to contribute to that.
Still, I want to be honest, and as I’ve said before, I want to keep it real.
I was busking in the Mission again recently when the Mommy showed up. She was wearing her usual stiletto pink and black leopard print heels, acid washed pants and Mommy Power! pink chic-cut shirt. Her hair was up and her earrings dangled. Her makeup was perfect.
I looked like I usually do, like I’d been busking all afternoon.
So the Mommy came along and started ripping the Mission up, as she does. I quickly removed the strings from my guitar and pounced. The pouncing went pretty well — the weightlifting and exercising helps, I think.
Anyway, I pounced and quickly tied her up, using lots of square knots. She screamed and carried on, as she does. She said the Baby would come and kick my ass. Stuff like that.
I pulled out my wanna-be smart phone and called the police so they could take the Mommy away.
But then Malkor X showed up. He threw me several feet, untied the Mommy and took her “Downtown.”
You can read about it at his blog, which he just started. (Jeez. Does EVERYONE have a blog these days?)
What a downer. I think I need to make a pan of microwave fudge.
Happy holidays, all you crazy piratical types!
It’s Nick Cave singing a NSFW sea chanty!
Things are looking grim in San Francisco.
The other day I was trying out my new busking routine in The Mission, and it was going well. No one had complained about my performance (too loudly), and some people even seemed to enjoy it.
I had performed for an hour, had received some nice tips from holiday shoppers, and was about to let a Mariachi group take over the spot when the earth began to roll.
At first I thought it was an earthquake. It is San Francisco, after all. But then I heard his voice thundering through the crowds.
I’d love to say it’s a whiny voice because I’m convinced he’s a whiner. I’m convinced he didn’t get enough attention from his mommy when he was a little boy and he’s still being a total baby about it. Unfortunately, that’s not the case. His voice is loud and strong.
“Good afternoon holiday shoppers!” he yelled. “This is Malkor X, and I’m your new superhero. The crime in this city is despicable, and I’m here to clean up!” He rambled on like that for a while.
Finally I caught sight of him. He didn’t seem that big, but whenever he took a step the earth moved. He was dressed in this black pleather suit that didn’t flatter his body type AT ALL. The suit had a big silver X on the front, like he’s a freaking superhero or something. He was speaking through a megaphone and just wouldn’t shut up about how awesome he is and how he’s going to clean up San Francisco.
About the time I saw him he saw me. He called me out. He asked if I was a real superhero why I didn’t have a real superhero name. Why I used my real name. He asked why I didn’t have a super special costume. He asked why I wore the same mask all the time. And then he asked how come I sucked so bad at fighting crime.
I didn’t know what to say. All I could think of were insults. But I’m a superhero. I’m better than that. Besides, maybe we’ll have to team up sometime to rid the city of some major baddies, and not the pickpockets, litterers and vandals I usually fight off.
So I shrugged my shoulders and said nothing.
He laughed and kept going down the street, yelling through his megaphone, which I thought was illegal in San Francisco.
I’m embarrassed and I’m hurt. I feel like a loser. I know I’m not super awesome at fighting crime. I know I haven’t been super creative in the superheroine creation department. But I like keeping it real, you know?
I want to get better. Both at my new busking act and at fighting crime.
In terms of the busking, I figure I’ll just keep practicing and performing. What else is there to do to be a better busker?
And as far as being a rock start superheroine? I’m going to start working out. Like hard core. I’m going to start lifting weights and stuff.
And I’m going to keep keeping it real. It’s a new slant on the superhero gig. I am who I am. I’m not hiding. What you see is what you get.
At least I’m an awesome writer.
Take that, Malkor X. I’d like to see you write a romance about a robot pirate who’s in love with a placenta and pull it off.