Work In Progress

Well, they're always a work in progress. I never finish anything. Seriously, ask anybody. I saw a co-worker had put up a photo of Debbie Harry that I recognized because it's my favorite photo of her. And also because I had attempted to translate it into a giant painting in college. The actual canvas is a thin cardboard box that measures like, 2'x3' or so. Naturally, I never finished it, but I wanted to post it here so she could see the painting. As you can see, I pretty much only finished the face. The hair is only roughed out. And the jacket is nonexistent. Ah well... I'm including the actual photo for reference here.

Junk Poetry

Sometimes I kind of enjoy the crazy junk E-mails that show up in my inbox. Like the woman who needs my help getting the inheritance her father left her. It's such a shame his business partner betrayed him and killed him, after all. The broken English is such a hoot. So imagine my delight when I opened up one called "simsim" to find a little stream of consciousness poetry following their sales pitch for pirating software. In the interest of furthering artistic expression, I present it to you here in full:

Nei Ho,

Are you a frequennt visitor of retaiil sooftware stores?

We know what you're overpayiing for:
- box manufactturing

- CD
- saalesperson salary
- Reent of shop spacee
- Year-too-year increasingg taxes in your counttry

Well, what for ?! You're able to downlload evverything legally NOW! Fabulouss range of sooftware and LOW prices will make you smile and save your money! Welcome to [oh no, I won't put the link in here!]

Moreover the rector's righthand man, ready to impedes thee
from the golden round, which fate 'em. I suppose if nathan,
the shipping clerk, mistress remained untouched by them,
being one the fruit which was upon the trees: but as they
o'clock. I hope nothing further has happened. And steered
toward the sound. The game path which he observed, with
a great steam i'll pay you well tents and huts. Manco pointed
to it with an expression before he was down again. Come,
my friend, said it was possible that in its oldspeak formenglish
is not sufficiently honourable for his ambition. Of commerce
in your kingdom. For this kind of oysters parboil'd, and
some cock stones. Fry the of my heart, light of my eyes,
oh, hear thy father's.

School Spirit

So I had a phone call from NYU last night. The girl started off asking me to confirm my address and ask for an E-mail address, but I knew what she really wanted. I feel bad letting them go on, but I also feel bad that these people have to do this, so I waited until she asked for a donation before I stopped her. She understood that it was hard for recent grads to make donations back to the university, and suggested maybe a smaller amount like $100. Um, a smaller amount would be $25.

She moved to the next talking point on her list, which was to bring up the statistic that apparently only 11% of NYU grads have given gifts, as opposed to other universities, where the percentage is around 40-60%. Well, duh. I mean, first off, NYU cost a fortune, so it's hard to justify giving them even more money, especially since most grads aren't going straight into a high-paying career. Also, NYU isn't the type of school that engenders any kind of community. I never felt any school spirit when I went there, and I don't think many others did, either. The "campus" is just a collection of scattered buildings around Washington Square Park, so it's not like the typical university campus where it creates a microcosm of society, bringing the students together. So without that kind of school loyalty, I'm not surprised they can only get 11% of their graduates to care enough to give back.

Besides that, I've got rent to pay!