FRANKENBLOG

So here’s my new/old cut. I really did want to grow my hair out… bummer.

Also, I’m all cold now

I traded some music for a free haircut. A friend who works at this high end salon hooked it up for me. This haircut should have cost me somewhere in the range of 100$. Turns out I got the guy with a bad case of Parkinson’s. He actually shaved off a chunk of hair next to my eyebrow!

Here are some pictures of what a 100$ haircut looks like.

Soon after I took these pics, I shaved my head.

Ha Ha Ha

P.S. this is from the Perry Bible Fellowship check it out

Waxmen. FUCKING WAXMEN!?!

I get a little postcard in my mailbox telling me, Mr. Daniel Waxmen, that UPS has tried to deliver my shoes 3 times. Somehow, I have missed all three. I fucking hate UPS, they tell me “sure we’ll re-deliver it, but this is your only chance. If you miss this delivery, it will be sent back to the shipper”. Nice. Fine, what time to I need to be at my apartment? “Oh, the delivery could come anywhere between 8am and 7pm. AN ELEVEN HOUR FUCKING WINDOW?!?!? that is INSANE, PERIOD. Not even cable guys are this bad. So instead of loosing an entire day to UPS, I make the decision to go twenty minutes south, to San Bruno, where their nearest UPS branch office.

What can brown do for you? Apparently nothing. Please folks, use FedEx.

I was looking forward to a night of macaroni and cheese, and reruns of late night t.v. but then, unfortunately, my arm was twisted, and I decided to go to the Thanksgiving being held at Abbie’s house. Abbie goes to the same café I a few others frequent, and those few of us have become a bit of a “crew”. Abbie is actually a chef at Aqua, one of san francisco’s finest restaurants. She will be cooking our dinner.

Well, “best laid plans…” and all that. I guess I won’t have my dream evening, alone, eating mac n cheeze, watching bad t.v., waiting for the phone to ring…oh well.

So I went into the church, (gorgeous old building, nestled in the heart of the cities banking district) and at the front desk was a matronly woman, perhaps in her mid-forties. she greeted me, and I mentioned that I was new to Scientology (I was playing dumb, hoping to see what their recruiting techniques were). She said “of course! Let me find someone to help you.” cue the beautiful nineteen year old girl. I was introduced to “Katie” who would be my guide, and would work with me on personality tests, and such. I am led around the first floor of the building (the second floor was gated off, and was guarded (no lie!)). I see all of these “codes of honor” and “creed of scientology” displays, laid out with metal brass letters on white marble. Then we learned about “the great!” L. Ron Hubbard. Yikes.

On to the personality test. Do you sometimes feel perturbed? Do you ever get confused? Do you cry after you masturbate? (just kidding) You have three options, I very much agree, I have no opinion, or I very much disagree. How scientific.

The test consists of 200 questions, and when I am done, I am told to find Katie.

I finish. I find Katie, and she “grades” my “test”. Of course I am deeply troubled, and depressed (according to the test). LUCKILY! THANK GOD! Scientology can be my salvation!

I have the “opportunity” to pay for a “life efficiency” course. Lucky me.

At this point, I am ready to leave, I tell her that I think that if Scientology really wanted to help everyone, they wouldn’t charge for help. A higher level employee hears this, comes over and introduces himself. This is feeling more and more like one of those high pressure time-share sales pitches. He takes a look at my “personality test” and remarks that I have amazing potential, and that He would be willing to hire me on the spot to become a Scientologist in training.

“If you were to work for the church” he says “you could take all of the courses for free!”

Interesting, they want me bad enough, that they’re willing to pay me to become a Scientologist…

“No thanks” I say, I then thank them both for the info, and I excuse myself.

Interestingly enough, she denied up and down the existence of Xenu, and she refused to tell me why people’s thetans are damaged. She told me that she would rather I learn about the “truth” myself.

I’ll pass…for now.

Oh my gosh! I spent the day at the “church” of Scientology today! Shocking revelations at hand! Thetans! Xenu! E-meters! Pretty girls in bikinis! Stay tuned!

I guess I wasn’t quite done with these ads. So here is the final one. The others are still the same, but my copy teacher helped me fix this one.

Here are three ads that I finally finished. These have been in the works for like a million years. I like the way they’ve turned out.

Yes Mom, I got a helmet… Yeah, I know I’ll still be careful… I know cars can kill me in an instant Mom…I do ride safely Mom!… No, I will not sell my bike!… Yes Mom, walking IS safer, but school is like 4 miles away… But I hate the bus!… No Mom, end of story!… I’m keeping my bike!

No, Mom, I don’t mess with drugs…Yeah…Yeah…No, I know Mom…Ok…Love you too…Bye…