Blog Question Of The Day:
Who all thinks we should start referring to Dion Phaneuf as 'Number Two'?
Friday, December 05, 2008
I went to a store I'd never been to before last night. I get the flyers in my mail and usually I throw them out. But there was something on the front page of the last one that caught my eye so I kept it. I pondered the purchase for a few days before going to the place.
The store was: Bianca Amor's Liquidation Supercentre.
Oh my GAWD was that a freak show. It was dark, so I didn't notice it driving up, but when you get to the entrance, its hard to not notice the plywood over some of the windows. Plywood. That was the first indication but you step through the door and its like immediate culture shock.
I thought maybe I'd stepped through a dimensional portal, and somehow ended up on the streets of Calcutta. The clutter than infested the place was just like a hundred movies you've seen about the congestion in India. There was just stuff . . . everywhere.
And not neatly, like you'd expect from a store. There was a box here, a box there. What made it worse is that this was obviously someone's idea of neat and orderly but it was just so . . . wrong on a variety of levels. I keep talking in similes but I felt like I'd wandered into a small town flea market. 37 year old merchandise lined up haphazardly into a vague resemblance of order, marked down drastically to make you think you were getting a bargain.
The lone cashier had a name tag made up with a Jiffy marker.
The /supervisor/ slouched back in a broken office chair, yawning loudly and frankly didn't seem to care if the store was open or closed.
The aisles were labelled with poster board and more Jiffy marker lettering.
The cash-out area was more plywood across saw horses.
You couldn't find a god damn thing in this unholy mess. I was desperate to leave but still wanted my $4 boxing gloves. Which, I suppose, is what draws anyone to this type of ungodly hell hole. Yes, its a living nightmare but you can get something cheap.
I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I don't know how you could work there. Which probably explains why I sign on the entrance offered $15 an hour to start. You'd go mad if you stayed any length of time.
The store was: Bianca Amor's Liquidation Supercentre.
Oh my GAWD was that a freak show. It was dark, so I didn't notice it driving up, but when you get to the entrance, its hard to not notice the plywood over some of the windows. Plywood. That was the first indication but you step through the door and its like immediate culture shock.
I thought maybe I'd stepped through a dimensional portal, and somehow ended up on the streets of Calcutta. The clutter than infested the place was just like a hundred movies you've seen about the congestion in India. There was just stuff . . . everywhere.
And not neatly, like you'd expect from a store. There was a box here, a box there. What made it worse is that this was obviously someone's idea of neat and orderly but it was just so . . . wrong on a variety of levels. I keep talking in similes but I felt like I'd wandered into a small town flea market. 37 year old merchandise lined up haphazardly into a vague resemblance of order, marked down drastically to make you think you were getting a bargain.
The lone cashier had a name tag made up with a Jiffy marker.
The /supervisor/ slouched back in a broken office chair, yawning loudly and frankly didn't seem to care if the store was open or closed.
The aisles were labelled with poster board and more Jiffy marker lettering.
The cash-out area was more plywood across saw horses.
You couldn't find a god damn thing in this unholy mess. I was desperate to leave but still wanted my $4 boxing gloves. Which, I suppose, is what draws anyone to this type of ungodly hell hole. Yes, its a living nightmare but you can get something cheap.
I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I don't know how you could work there. Which probably explains why I sign on the entrance offered $15 an hour to start. You'd go mad if you stayed any length of time.
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
I went to the Nine Inch Nails concert on Monday night. A lot could be said about how freakin' awesome that was. The show was great. The music was amazing but the lighting was beyond words. They did stuff with lights and screens that I couldn't believe. They rendered this image of a swamp at dusk, with water rippling; it was amazing.
I say all of that but unfortunately the enduring image in my head is from the opening act. Which would be unusual, because who remembers the opening band? Its been said before that I don't like to swear (too much) on my blog but,
WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?!
First of all, I think 'The Bug' was actually just the DJ. At least that's the assumption that I've made. The skid mark was constantly sampling from his collection of 'world's most annoying sounds'. You wouldn't think there would be that many awful sounds, or that someone would take the time to compile them all in one place. Nevertheless, The Bug had the full collection, and I'm pretty sure he played them all for us. Twice. At full volume. With over-the-top amounts of bass. For Christ sake, the damn curtains were waving!
And can someone explain to me who the fuck that person singing was? I think The Bug was the DJ but was the person doing the singing just some drunk bastard that stumbled onto the stage? Christ was that annoying! I made a joke about The Bug being reggae rap; who knew I'd be so damn close! I was not in the mood for rastafarian rapping; leastways some that made no fucking sense.
I'm not usually one that campaigns for decency. I'm usually a pretty offensive person myself. But I can honestly say that I was hoping the police would step in, and put a stop to The Bug's performance, when that Jamaican poser started screaming about 'hardcore'. The only saving grace was that it was dark as ass in there during The Bug's show. I think I'd have gone dead inside if I could have made out what she was doing on stage, while she screamed at the top of her lungs about wanting it 'hardcore'.
I say all of that but unfortunately the enduring image in my head is from the opening act. Which would be unusual, because who remembers the opening band? Its been said before that I don't like to swear (too much) on my blog but,
WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT!?!
First of all, I think 'The Bug' was actually just the DJ. At least that's the assumption that I've made. The skid mark was constantly sampling from his collection of 'world's most annoying sounds'. You wouldn't think there would be that many awful sounds, or that someone would take the time to compile them all in one place. Nevertheless, The Bug had the full collection, and I'm pretty sure he played them all for us. Twice. At full volume. With over-the-top amounts of bass. For Christ sake, the damn curtains were waving!
And can someone explain to me who the fuck that person singing was? I think The Bug was the DJ but was the person doing the singing just some drunk bastard that stumbled onto the stage? Christ was that annoying! I made a joke about The Bug being reggae rap; who knew I'd be so damn close! I was not in the mood for rastafarian rapping; leastways some that made no fucking sense.
I'm not usually one that campaigns for decency. I'm usually a pretty offensive person myself. But I can honestly say that I was hoping the police would step in, and put a stop to The Bug's performance, when that Jamaican poser started screaming about 'hardcore'. The only saving grace was that it was dark as ass in there during The Bug's show. I think I'd have gone dead inside if I could have made out what she was doing on stage, while she screamed at the top of her lungs about wanting it 'hardcore'.