Running Errands And Crap Like That

I’ve just returned from running a few exciting errands (laundromat, post office, bank, faxing place, etc.) around my scenic Brooklyn neighborhood. One of my stops was at the UPS store. The employees there don’t wear the awesome brown uniforms that the guys that drive the UPS trucks wear, but it’s still a pretty good store in terms of buying padded envelopes and stuff, which was what I was doing there today in case you really must know. A-hole (Oh, just kidding).

Anyway, while I was going about my business at the UPS store, the in-store sound system began letting loose with the familiar (to me anyway) strains of Andy Gibb’s “Shadow Dancing,” which immediately whisked me back to my early childhood, a time when I was a big fan of the younger, now-departed brother of the guys in the Bee Gees. Back then I owned two Andy Gibb solo albums, which naturally led most of the other boys on my block too assume that I was also a member of the Future Homosexuals of America Club. The fact that I wrote a letter to pop singer/TV star/Tiger Beat coverboy Shaun Cassidy around this time, a rough draft of which was unfortunately discovered and later paraded around the neighborhood by my “friend” Tommy for all my pick-up football buddies to see, didn’t seem to help matters.

As it turned out however, I wasn’t actually a homosexual-in-the-making (dude, you can totally ask, like, a million chicks about this), but a completely sad and shameless pop music fan in the making. Don’t get me wrong, I still totally rock and all that; it’s just that songs like OMC’s “How Bizarre” and White Town’s “Your Woman” still rank frighteningly high on my list of all-time favorite songs (Don’t worry, there’s plenty of Zeppelin and Husker Du and stuff on the list too, in case you are worried). I guess what I’m really trying to say is this: little kids can be total dicks sometimes, so watch your ass.

In other news, I’m currently neck and neck with my bank as to who has more pens with the bank’s logo on it in their possession. I won’t say the name of my bank as there is probably someone out there who can take that little bit of information and use it to rob me of the 17 or so bucks currently in my account. Giving a slight hint however, my bank calls itself “America’s Most Convenient Bank.” If by convenient they mean making sure I never have to buy another pen again, then- yes- they are definitely super convenient. Now if only they could hook me up with one of those happening navy blazers the employees there all get to wear.

Finally, I bought an assortment of hot peppers (habanero mostly) at the farmer’s market type thing they have in my neighborhood while I was out today. I’ve decided I want to whip up a batch of my own hot sauce, which- given the fact that I have been on television like a million times already- is probably something I should have taken care of a long time ago. I’m not planning on selling it or anything; it’s just gonna be for around the house and stuff. Imagine how much money I’ll save on hot sauce by making my own! It’s going to be pretty incredible. Anyway, my ass and I will let you know what happens on that front really, really soon.

Dave Hill