Art of Flea Market-ing

I for some reason decided to purchase a booth location at a memorial day flea market. (the reason ended up being the $2000 i made, yep, really). I was in for a long day, with setup starting at 4...in the a.m. I'm not generally awake at 4 in the morning unless i have to take a quick trip across the hall to the bathroom, or if like Con-Air is on the USA network.

Naturally, instead of getting a good night's sleep I chose to buck up, and stay awake all night. This isn't even a good decision when its done on the first day of the new year. Its more of a reminder..."yep, looks like I still need to sleep at night this year"

Actually, nothing funny happened because of fatigue. Sorry for bringing it up.

But the vendor next to me, a self declared "house cleaner & antique dealer" (I think thats the long way of saying "thief") was SO into the flea market it was fun to watch. He would sit in his all-knowing antique dealer chair all day shouting out prices and long histories on items...that nobody was even asking about. His marketing strategies were genius:

1. The first route he would take to garner more cash is to give a long detailed account of where the item was found. "that will be $25, it was found on a tall ship in the late 1700s by a unwed sailor who had just tripped over a german woven quilt made from the hair of an english king" "you mean this rusty soap dish?" "yep, its a great piece"

2. the second route is to take into account principles of supply and demand. Clearly this toothless man had some school learnin' in him. When asked about a Hershey tin he would establish that the supply is low by saying "this is one of the rarest pieces i have, i almost never see them" followed by "how many would you like, i have like 40" Its almost as if, by creating such a low supply with the first statement that the demand generated from it lags behind the second, creating a gap where high supply is met with high demand. "I'll take 10"

I can't believe I spent that much on a soap dish
'Night

Most Ambitious Task To Date:

A grand collection of poems, all in Haiku form (loosely defined because counting syllables was never offered as an elective at WAC)

This is just a teaser, I assume my book will be published to great reviews in the upcoming years. I'm not sure how many I will end up creating, it will be in the hundreds, but i do know this. It will be called:

Haikusies:

A tribute to beverages & the things that keep them cold

Inspired by William P. Bruce...winning 69 thousand dollars

The title is both a mix between Haiku and beer coosies, and what I believe to be the actual plural form of haiku. (you don't know Japanese, just try to prove me wrong)

4 samples to hold you over until the hardcover release.

Orange juice today

Quenched my morning desires well

Toothpaste almost ruined it

Sweat on my warm brow

Frosted mug chills only my hand

No ice, soda still flat

Beer is good in mugs

Beer is good in cans and bottles

Beer ruins relationships

Hammocks sway in breezes

The bucket of ice still fresh

No money for drinks

I know you are dying to read the next 250+ as much as I am to write them. Feel free to reserve your autographed copy today.

Goodnight (love you)

Not Me Jay-Z...

I'm not a business, man. I'm a businessman.

After 4 years of studying business, graduating Cum Laude, with departmental honors, and the highest deparment award (<<---ok, so maybe i'm just tooting my own horn because it feels nice to be done with school, and i'm awesome) I've realized that:

My online life is bizarre. On one hand, I want to find a job, which means having professional social media pages. On the other hand, I really want to keep pretending (<<--i use this term so that when I fail, i can say i was never trying, I'm insecure like that) to be a comedian...and use online media to talk about poop and punching baby otters. Yes I've talked about both. I may have said that the end of the season finale of 24 made me so frustrated the only thing that could make me happy again is to land a solid left hook onto the jowl of a baby sea otter, preferably in front of its mother. (I would never actually do it, I would play the video game though).

I think its unfair that employers in the business world will dock me points because I am trying to be a comedian. It would never happen the other way around.

"I see here that you're very funny, and I like that you have a diverse joke background."

"Thanks, I have worked hard to keep my material fresh, and otter abuse-less"

" Right, I only have one problem...I googled your name and i came across some disturbing posts"

"Well, college can be a little crazy..."

"No, its just that, morally, I don't think i can book someone who has pictures of themselves... shaking hands with business leaders and who makes comments about having a strong desire to... 'succeed'"

whatever, I will clean up my online presence when I realize my jokes aren't funny...or at least when I realize that even though there are enough flavors of Ramen for each day of the week, maybe i should make some money and buy chicken, and not just its flavor.

Will you hire me?

Goodnight

2nd Installment of:

Random Notebook Entries

So my little notebook hasn't gotten a lot of use lately, but I thought I would share some things that found its way into its pages.

1. "Sasquatch going on a date"
2. "Acid Flashbacks"
3. "Cupcakes in pocket"
4. "Inside Jokes"

Sasquatch on a date seems random at first. But it was a highly calculated stab at my roommate's combination of facial hair and formal attire this summer. Like Bigfoot shaved enough so that his eyes were visible for his date to gaze into, but not enough for his date to want to.

(side note, my new favorite pastime is looking at somebody and coming up with a handful of "you look like _______" I realize immediately that this makes no sense written with no context...moving on...)

Apparently if you do enough acid in your lifetime, you fall into an acid flashback when you crack your back. That sounds absolutely awful...until you realize that instead of listening to your boss' story of a fish "this big" <<--hands out wide you can go to your happy place with a swift crack of the back.

The origins of the notebook entry "cupcakes in pocket": (*humor at the time enhanced by miller brewing company) My roommate on a walk to Chili's said "oh gross, there are still cupcake crumbs in my pocket" I had to wonder, what circumstance arises where you would have to stash a cupcake in your pocket for later? At fat camp maybe, but there are floorboards for that. I don't have a funny answer to my quandary...only more questions, like where do you get a cupcake small enough to fit in your pocket...and why are there only crumbs and no icing? Are we sure this isn't a muffin disguised as a cupcake situation?

My girl friends have so many inside jokes. They can walk up to each other, say one word to spark a memory of a random 30 seconds that happened three years ago...and laugh for hours. "Shrimp!" hahahahahahahahahahahah <<-- true story
I don't have the memory to form quality inside jokes.
me -"omelet!" hahahaha
friend - "what, you mean what we had for breakfast...an hour ago"
me - "yes, heheh"
friend - "you're dumb"

The Logic of Fear

When people get asked "what are you afraid of?" the answer is oftentimes, spiders. I have always believed myself to be scared of spiders. Until recently in my life I have discovered that I have no fear of spiders, but am terrified of their babies.

A grown ass man spider is fine, it crawls on your arm...one quick flick of the finger and its across the room. Leaving you with plenty of time to run into the bathroom, shut the door, and call a much more manly friend to come save you.

But with babies, they travel in swarms. Not a pack, group, or murder, but a swarm. You get baby spiders on your arm, by the time you scream and fire a flick in their direction...there are 1700 baby spiders living in your brain waiting to grow up and make more spider babies until eventually your brain is 80% spider, at which point they control you: good luck trying to watch a movie that isn't Arachnophobia, or Charlotte's Web...

The biggest things in life are not always the scariest, the small ones can also make you scream (that's what she said)

Goodnight <--you're safe under the blankets