Toasty

For anyone who didn't realize what eating toast in the shower can do for one's day, all I have to say (and brevity is not my strong point, so let the conciseness of this post represent the sincerity of the recommendation), don't try it.  C'mon, even this blog didn't try it.  That's ridiculous.  Ludicrous.  Asinine.



(Even if your toast comes with Jesus' face on it, don't try it; when introduced to the shower, toast will turn to duck food, and everyone knows, duck food is for the birds.)

Life sometimes can be toasty.
Toasty: --adjective
  characteristic of or resembling toast

Overheard

The secret lives of our neighbors...in fact, more accessible than hidden cameras and tapped phone wires...simply a matter of talented eavesdropping.  This blog excels at eavesdropping.  Not that any major secrets, no matter to whom they belong, shall be disclosed so indecorously as to be publicly blogged.  However...still amusing and rewarding in it's own simple right.

Eavesdrop #1: My upstairs neighbor is a spoiled rotten 90lb bongo playing mess of hair and whine.  She is engaged to an Australopithecine of a "male" who drives a giant Ford truck appropriate for endeavors far heftier than his bicycle riding ineptitude suggests he is built for (said truck was a gift from bride to be's family...as in...yes, that's how eager they are to partner her off).  From across the street, mess of hair and whine whines to caveman fiance in his trendy plaid button down (actually goes well with the truck...half a point for him), "Ow, babe, I stubbed my toe."  Flat monotone but nonetheless implying this has the potential to ruin both their nights.  Plaid cave'ster has been well trained and/or paid, "Are you OK?"  Equally flat monotone but nonetheless implying he will avoid a spoiled evening because he knows who's boss.  "Yeah."...and that's it.  IT.  Onto dinner or whatever is next.  For better or worse?  Till death or stub do us 'part.  It's enough to relish being single.

Eavesdrop #2: A barely 14 year old gangly boy walking the strand with his family has so much energy as to not just burst bubbles but reallocate the energy he used to burst bubbles into an essence to create brand new bigger bubbles.  He is bubbling over.  He tells his family with enviable conviction and not the slightest hint of post-pubescent ego, "I looked SOOO good in my skinny jeans and suit top.  I'm gonna wear it tomorrow."  Bubble-->burst-->bubble-->repeat: "I looked SOOOO good in my skinny jeans and suit top."  I had to bite my lip because I realized a hair in time that I wasn't part of the family.

Eavesdrop #3: An entirely precocious, as in, I realized I didn't even want to make eye contact with her, possibly 5 years old girl at Starbucks in the common seating area is chatting up her mom's male friend like they've been hitting backyard picnics together for the past decade.  She is entirely amused with his retelling of the birthday gifts his kid received.  Then, said middle aged male of no particular denomination in any sense of the world, except, married, picks ups his cell phone, engages in a "critical" conversation and abruptly walks outside to his car.  Precocious one looks simultaneously devastated and appalled and asks her mom where he went to [so suddenly].  Mom explains that he probably had to go to work.  Instantly.  Literally.  Instantly.  The devastation and appallation (not a word) disintegrate to be replaced by sheer conviction.  She confirms,"Oh, well, that's what men are supposed to do."  I did not bite my lip.  I gave her a high five.

Life sometimes can be overheard.
Overheard: –verb
to hear (speech or a speaker) without the speaker's intention or knowledge

Limitless

In the category of psychic screw thriller movie with good storyline adrenaline handouts for the audience with intriguing cinematography and a hot protagonist in equally hotly tailored suits, "Limitless" gets this blog's two thumbs.  In fact, since we're talking Bradley Cooper, this blog proffers all ten digits. 

Irrespective of Hollywood hunk factors, "Limitless" was a compelling flick with a solid script, equally solid acting and just enough unique allure plot-wise to substantially intrigue the viewer without seeming like it tried too hard.  Case in point: whereas, this blog posits that "Inception" was like "look I'm a hotrod!...with tin cans tied to the bumper!...shooting firecrackers out the front window!...with the sunroof down cause we're hanging out of it!...with a blender that we're gonna put this hotrod in!...then we're throwing the whole mess in a bouncy house!...now spin around 6.5 times, viewer, with these ridiculous glasses on!...and pin the tail on the jackass!", "Limitless" does it without the sucker punch of trying so blatantly, so obviously, so three dimensionally hard.

Life sometimes can be limitless.

Limitless: –adjective

  without limit; boundless; limitless ambition; limitless space

Submerged

The picture below may look like a Beluga whale sporting body paint, but it's actually...

...a Colombian "drug-sub" that was discovered partially hidden in an Ecuadorian marsh.

Wired magazine recently reported on the "anatomy" of this underwater craft intended to convey massive amounts of drugs, in particular cocaine, out of Colombia undetected (hence, the underwater factor).  The submarine was engineered and crafted specifically for this purpose.  So, the 74 foot craft includes all manners of hardware.  For example, the steering devices that manipulate the fins are former go-kart steering wheels.  Whoever is capable of guesstimating the cost of an illicit Colombian drug-sub said that the completed project (which it nearly was, yet no maiden voyage attained) would have cost about $5 million.  That's actually a pretty cool figure when one accounts for the guesstimate of how much cocaine the sub could transport which is 9 tons which equates to a street value of $250 million.

This is not the first effort to transport narcotics via Poseidon's thoroughfare.  There have been other subs which are described more as "underwater coffins" and also GPS infected torpedoes.  Needless to say, everything has an origin, and sometimes that origin was handcrafted by countless determined South Americans motivated to put dinner on the table, and serendipitously, perhaps, many of the parts were said to be have been made in China. 

Life sometimes can be submerged.
Submerged: –adjective

  under the surface of water or any other enveloping medium; inundated

Testudineous

Apparently Michael Bay took Doc's DeLorean back to the 80's and has decided to stay there for a few flicks.  Next year a Bay spectacular is slated to come out, and it's not another Transformers (or maybe it is, but that's not what's being reported on here).  It is...[drum roll on a tortoiseshell, please]...Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles!

The heroes in a half shell return for their fifth motion picture.  So, if you're into anthropomorphic pizza-loving turtles who follow the lead of a wise wizened rat (which definitely bucks Megan Fox's type casting), you're in luck.  C'mon, who's not down with turtle power?!

Life sometimes can be testudineous.
Testudineous: --adjective
  resembling the shell of a tortoise

Spa-rific

There's something to be said for the soothing effects of a traditional bubble bath, be it at the end of a long day racing Ferraris or after an intense debut of singing in the rain (and S.CA can well attest to the latter if not the former) or just because it's freakin' therapeutic and feels good.  Regardless of that unrelenting inundation (that's intentionally redundant to capture the essence of this blog's opinion) of those pushy books, Chicken Soup for the [fill in the blank] Soul, this blog argues vehemently that it is bubble baths that are good for the soul and the psyche; I'll take bubbles over noodles any day.  Only I can NEVER have a bubble bath.  Travesty!  No wonder my soul and psyche are in perpetual decline.  Along with WiFi (which shall be argued at another point in time), bath tubs should be an inalienable right.  Yet...they are not.  Travesty!  Some unlucky souls, this blog has both thumbs pointed bloggerward, do not have a bath tub which is, quite obviously, part and entirely parcel to engaging in a bubble bath.

Some unfortunates are relegated to stand up showers only.  Therefore, it is this blog's self-blogged brilliant idea that someone (open call for mock-up submissions) design a slide in tub structure for showers such as the above.  Ideally, it will fold in and up for easy storage and should be easy to clean.  Visualize an above ground pool (filled with hot bubbly water).  Then, this blog can submit to Kickstarter for lots of pedestrian funding at which point, when inquired what good use the funding shall be allocated to, this blog responds that it will, quite obviously--of course, be put to the implementation of a bathtub for this blogger STAT!  Then, said blogger can blog about edibles from the bathtub instead of the shower which seems a bit more apropos generally speaking.  Win/win.

Life sometimes can be spa'rific.
Spa-rific--blog slang
  of or pertaining to the essence of the most enjoyable of frivolities, hot water on the body

Explosive

Wile E. Coyote was recently spotted at LAX's Tom Brady terminal (that's almost as sweet to type as "Ferrari") (aka, Tom Bradley International) on a flight bound for India.  



In related news, the BBC reported on the potential kapow-boom! power of the well known Indian spice, curry.  The American Physical Society (yes, it does sound like a club one would wish to become a Gold member of, but I think it's more cerebral than it's misnomer suggests), indicated that curry could replace other "more complex solutions" (i.e Nitroglycerin?) to "spot explosives" such as TNT.  Apparently curry has properties which enable it to attract explosive molecules while in the air...

First date idea: Indian fare.  If the date appears to be going well after drinks and appetizers have arrived, skip the curry.  If not, offer to light your date's cigarette mid-mouthful. 

Life sometimes can be explosive.
Explosive: –adjective

  tending or serving to explode

Diabolical

The below photo just in from Gotham...which made me think of...

the Joker...of course...which fit well with...

the update that the Positive Psychology (yes, that does seem like an oxymoron in a "prozac nation") Network which stated that studies into the act of smiling have found that when women smile, smiling is positively associated with positive emotion but when men smile, smiling is negatively associated with negative emotion.  Seems a little misleading and/or convoluted and/or diabolical...aren't women supposed to be the enigmatic of the genders?  Just suggestin'...

Anyhow, in summary, the study posits that "positive emotion is a strong positive predictor of smiling for women but not for men, and negative emotion is a strong negative predictor of smiling for men but not for women."  So, there.  Chew on that, Batman and Robin.

Life sometimes can be diabolical.
diabolical:–adjective

  having the qualities of a devil; devilish; fiendish; outrageously wicked

Stereo

If your mortgage is paid and that kid is already out of college (or you just want to plan and execute the year's best block party), consider investing in Avantgarde Acoustic's Trio Classico stereo system.  Behind door number 1 is a 5 foot tall home acoustic system that bucks the classic black rectangle in the corner gathering dust trend.  

Billed as the audiophile's "nirvana", the Classico Trio starts at $65K.  Sorry, if you couldn't hear me, I said $65K; (to keep it all relative, dear reader, that could be one third of a Ferrari)!  Basically it's like bringing a concert hall into your living room.  The German design boasts that "every time the music signal is changing from positive to the negative half-wave and vice versa the dielectric field gets inverted" and "it's massive [you don't say] 3 kg magnet with high magnetic flux density help produce enormous power and authority on the movement of the voice coil.  Each signal is reproduced one-by-one, exactly to the original."  The fine print mentions something about giving massages and doing laundry, in which case, this blog may head for Frankfurt to pick one up in purple.  Blasting "Nobody's Fool" on the Classico Trio would essentially solve all interpersonal dilemmas without any face time whatsoever.  Sold?

Life sometimes can be stereo.
Stereo: --adjective

  pertaining to stereophonic sound, stereoscopic photography, etc.

Picturesque

Mexican culture seems pretty intent on the point and select method when it comes to making daily goal oriented decisions.  (This statement, by the way (by way of bloggy disclaim), is intended entirely as an observation based on legitimate...observation (by afore-alluded-to blogger)).  Which brings me to Mexico City's subway system.  The subway is accessible to all of Mexico City's approximately 21 million residents.  That's a lot of people.  The system works really well, although, in mostly typical subway style, it is hot and dirty and crowded, but it's easy to use, and part of that ease is a result of the pick your proper subway line pictures that are affiliated with the assorted lines.  Since the city also has a huge illiterate contingent, the pictures are the obvious way to know which way to go.  It works.  You don't have to read.  You follow the picture.  (This is also a huge bonus when you're a visitor and maybe your Spanish isn't exactly subway sufficient.)  In fact, NPR reported several years back, that the government was trying to increase the literacy rate in Mexico City by passing out short stories and novella-types on the subway to passengers that they could read while riding.

Similar to the pictures in the subway, there are a good many restaurants (mostly of Mexican or Asian fare) that employ pictures on their menus with the explicit objective being the point and select method.  This works if you don't know what "lacto ovo" is; you look at the picture, and depending on how it strikes your stomach's fancy, you point and select.  Or, if you just can't read, you point and select and say the number affiliated with the preferred pic.  Makes sense.

What does not make sense are menus that include pictures of the food that have names that integrate a creature, like the "dragon roll" or "caterpillar roll" that I encountered on a recent, albeit tasty, sushi outing.  Whether I can read "dragon" or "caterpillar", the fact remains, and I can't be alone on this one, I don't want my food to have a face and eyes and antennas.  I got no problem riding the "caterpillar line" to get to the taco stand, but I got a big problem with receiving a pseudo-(and pseudo is worse than real-o because pseudo is really smiling) caterpillar on a plate for consumption.

Life sometimes can be picturesque.
Picturesque:–adjective

  strikingly graphic or vivid; creating detailed mental images

Underestimated

Some things are obviously impressive, like Ferraris and the flexibility of a Cirque du Soleil acrobat and the jawline of a Great White.  Then there are things that are impressive, but in an off the radar sort of way, either because they're simple, or simply abundant or simple to miss.  For example...the pleasing aesthetics of the palm tree...and...

...the afternoon views from Dana Point (the word "point" isn't thrown in there by way of coincidence)...or...

...cute signage, even if you're not following the heart paved road, and...

...weather vanes--a considerably forgotten and overlooked mechanism that fulfills not only an actual purpose but also really classes up most four-walled acts...and...

...of course, sunsets.

Life sometimes can be underestimated.
Underestimated: –verb (used without object)
  to make an estimate that would be lower than that which would be correct

The Pits

For anyone who didn't realize what eating olives in the shower can do for one's day, all I have to say (and brevity is not my strong point, so let the conciseness of this post represent the sincerity of the recommendation), don't try it.

(What in the world do you do with the pits?  (Can't send em down the drain with the soap suds.))

Life sometimes can be the pits.
The pits--slang
  an extremely unpleasant, boring, or depressing place, condition, person, etc.; the absolute worst

Raving

For 5 bucks you too can have this fun.  It's called the carwarsh, and it's a full blown blast that I indulge in whenever...whenever...I have 5 bucks (?).  Typically, I blast the music and pull my chair back and cruise through the psychedelic soap suds without a care in the world.  It occurred to me yesterday, it would be really freakin' awesome if the carwash was open at night.  Picture same said scenario with four of your best buds in the back seat, glow in the dark disco ball lights and a bottle of wine.  Of course, one time through wouldn't be enough, so I'm just sayin' I think there's an after hours market (like a drive thru rave minus the drugs and pacifiers) for the roll-yourself-thru style washer de autos.

Speaking of psychedelic, I certainly couldn't tell you what the guy sitting next to me at Sbux yesterday was on, but he was seeing more imaginary birds in that coffeeshop than you'd think imaginable.  He told me, all glaze-donut-eyed that sometimes it's just really hard to leave Sbux.  Ha!  We can agree on that, trippy pants.

He did finally leave, which was good because I was highly entertained talking to him and needed to get back to serious...ummm...blogging (?)...work (anyone got 5 bucks?).  He spent the following 30 minutes in the parking lot opening and closing the tailgate on his truck.  Nope.  I don't think it was the caffeine.

Life sometimes can be raving.
Raving: –adjective

  extraordinary or remarkable

Charmed

Well, shoot...take a big breath and observe breathtaking exhibit 1 (below).  For those of you missing the super car flash card pack, that's the '11 Pagani Huayra.  Yeah.  What's that saying about 1,000 words and a picture and...shoot.  The Huayra, as if it matters what something that looks like that can do, makes its smudge to 60 in 3.2 and has a custom AMG V12 engine (P'ani has a working relationship with Daimler, and it appears to be well oiled).  The aesthetic four wheeled phenom is composed of carbon fibre (P'ani's signature note) and titanium.  Six to one, half dozen to the other...and...alas, all things not being equal: given a titanium choice, I'd take the Huayra over a ring despite the inevitably shortened lifespan.  Done and done; was there even a question?

Observe breath-taking exhibit 2, Ferrari's brand spank your a** with a lightning whip new FF.  It chokes on an atom of the Huayra's dust and clocks in at 3.7...however, it is four wheel drive.  Yes, you can read that line again.  (And, it goes without saying, but I just like to say it, it is a Ferrari).  Four being the magic number, it comfortably accommodates four in the hug you-rub-you-never-let-you-go leather seats; never-let-you-go being the operative phrase, and this blogger has committed to donating her physical remains to Body Worlds, but would accept being buried in the embrace of the FF which is...of course...the risk of having a car that exceeds 200mph at the slightest suggestion of a sneeze.

The acquaintance of the Huayra and the FF has been made, indeed--charmed, for doubly sure.  (Did you notice they're both Italian?  Just sayin'...)

Life sometimes can be charmed.
Charmed: –adjective

  marked by good fortune or privilege

Routine

It became clear that the secret was out when a friend joked that I need to have a sign made that says “[blogger’s name] is in” at Starbucks.  I’m certainly not the first or only to make Starbucks my unofficial office.  I’m certainly not the first or only “creature of habit” either.  So, when people continue to say to me that they see me “here” (being my fav Sbux) “all the time” (boy, if I had a cup of coffee for every time I heard that, I’d be bringing seizures back the way Justin brought sexy), it begs the obvious (and, yes, sometimes you do have to beg for the obvious, but that’s an entirely different blog post…in fact, it may be an entirely different blog spot) which is, of course (i.e. obviously), if you see me here all the time, then you must be here at least some of all of the time yourself.  Silly people, but I don’t mind being a pseudo celebrity, ever…especially if you relinquish your table to me.  I also have a tendency to binge on the places that I dig.  I got so hooked on a certain frozen yogurt place that starts with “p” and ends in “berry” that not only did I get free yogurt, they started giving me gift cards when I came in.  (Don’t mistake this for bragging, dear reader, because for as much as I’ll frequent a place for a series of months, I’ll drop it like last year’s black when I find a shinier, sharper hook.) 

If I could be a full-time unofficial mascot, I’d give up the part-time unofficial office.  I think there’s something to be said for pedestrian spokes people.  I’ve long thought it would be a great idea if a fine car maker wanted to sponsor an every day person (i.e., me).  For example, people always ask me how I like my car.  Well, if I had a gratis model, I’d be willing to wear a t-shirt once a week to the note of “Ask me about my [fill in the blank hot car], and I’ll go out on the word of mouth limb and say that just might sell a few more cars and generate a more accessible kind of marketing.  Alas, I’m still only a mascot for this blog, so, if you’re in the ‘hood, stop by my office; (I’ll treat you to a cup of coffee…I have a purse full of coupons).

Life sometimes can be routine.–noun

  a customary or regular course of procedure

Non-Sequitur

This blogger got thrown in a dark brick box yesterday on a wild goose hunt for a return to work opportunity for someone.  To make a tedious research task brief (and to preclude blogger's second attempt at frustration induced self injury), we'll skip to the chase which is to say: there was an advertisement for a sales position that didn't involve cold-calling but touted following "warm leads".  A little serendipitous digging (and skilled, googling, I have to admit) later, this blogger learned that the position was for a crematory service.  Warm leads indeed!  Which brings me to Laz...

The "Lazarus Position" occurs in freshly dead or brain dead bodies immediately following passing (hence, "freshly dead"...hence..."warm leads").  A small percentage of bodies have been charted to fling their arms out airplane style, then raise them parallel and then fold them in classic corpse pose across their chest.  Ummm...let it be noted, return to work possibilities should not include undertaker duties.  Which brings me to just plain old cold.  Ice cold...

Been thinking, why doesn't Starbucks use coffee ice cubes in their iced coffee?  It would preclude the watered down effect.  (Of course, it's cheaper for Sbux not to use coffee ice cubes); irrespective, coffee ice cubes seems like a delightful summer treat.  That is surely a shower worthy indulgence.

Life sometimes can be non-sequitur.
Non-sequitur: –noun

  an inference or a conclusion that does not follow from the premises

Mutable

This "pimped" out canine-themed bicycle, totally reminded me of...

...the Mutts Cutts mobile from "Dumb and Dumber". 

Presumably, the "tails gone wild" creator was actually walking dogs because the hangy-eared, perky tailed two-wheeler was solitarily parked along Hermosa's green-belt.

Probably fair to assume that a bike (or a van, for that potentially creepy matter) decked out to resemble a baby wouldn't be as savvy as a marketing endeavor for an entrepreneurial babysitter.

Life sometimes can be mutable.

Mutable: –adjective

  liable or subject to change or alteration

Unhealthy

I didn't open the article, but I saw NPR's headline to the note of the "truth" about the "chip aisle".  Talk about recycled news that I presumed was common knowledge, but I guess I should consider myself nutritionally blessed if the vast rest of society really hasn't realized until now that chips are not "good" for you.  In fact, I could have told you this based on harsh personal reality as far back as four years ago.  Four years ago is approximately when I discovered Trader Joe's banana chips.  As far as I was concerned, pull the plug on romance, success and adventure, and look no further; I'd found my destiny.  They were crispy.  They were just the right amount of sweet.  They went superbly well with a cup of coffee.  They were 220 calories per bag; (as a co-indulger friend of mine aptly put it, they were like "eating air"). 

Yeah, according to TJ's skewed nutrition labeling.  No need to rehash the traumatic details that involved months of suspiciously empty shelves where the b-chips used to be and my excruciating patience while I awaited their return (practically starving to death in the meantime).  I merely assumed they'd sold out; the b-chip factory could not keep the supply up with the demand; it figured, in my estimation, because how could such a perfectly delightful indulgence go unnoticed by the rest of the market-frequenting world?  Sure, this irritated the hell out of me because I wanted to be among the only b-chip fanatics, but such is life with things that are grand and irresistible; (badminton being another fantastic example...here I was in 7th grade PE thinking that this was the best undiscovered sport to mankind, and low and behold it's played in the Olympics).  Anyhow, to condense this story since I've wasted enough of my prime years on Joe's banana tricks, it turned out the nutrition facts had been severely miscalculated to the note of they were off by about 1,000 calories.  Instead of a bag for breakfast and another for a snack, this was three quarters of one's recommended intake for the day!  Needless to say, chips aren't good for you (thanks, NPR), and I've sworn off TJ's b-chip variety for permanent.

Other things that should come with a bad for your health warning is old men in shorts and Ugg boots.  Yikes.  Who told you that was ok?  No one.  Obviously.  No picture necessary.

Bad for other people's health, specifically their auditory health, is going to be my future attendance at movies.  I intend to come equipped with an air horn.  The next time someone talks I'm not wasting my time with glares and nudges to the back of their seat.  I'm simply blasting them with a warning screech; (I've yet to determine how many warnings seems fair to the general public, as it may depend on variables like what kind of movie and which movie theater and whose company I am in, but I'm thinking after three blasts of the horn it's taser time (i.e., "shut the flip-flop up, mother snicker")).

Life sometimes can be unhealthy.
Unhealthy: –adjective
  not in a state of good or normal health; in an unsound, weak, or morbid condition

Disastrous

Pulling into my driveway this afternoon and I noticed a bright yellow kidnapper-style van in a parking space a few spots down.  The back doors were printed with the phrase "Disaster Restoration".  Immediately, I thought of my best friend.  I thought A) how kind that someone took the initiative to be concerned enough about my well-being that they sent a house-calling psychologist to my doorstep and B) who knew that psychologists made housecalls, well...and, I suppose C) how kind of strangely ironic that the psychologist drives a kidnapper van.

Naturally, by the time I got to my front door I recalled that I was not the imminent disaster on the street and that, in fact, the phrase "disaster restoration" must be a fancy way of saying "the service who cleans up after the mysterious fire on Highland".

The mix-up does prompt an interesting concept, one that I think could be rather lucrative.  If mental health professionals were willing to make house-calls, that would probably be a way more effective way of attending to the general public's mental/emotional/nervous breakdowns than hotlines.  It would probably cut suicide and murder rates alike.  They could come and calm you or your family down, watch a movie with you, check the premises for poisonous substances and sharp knives and leave a gallon of ice cream with their calling card.  I suppose the equipment wouldn't be all that different than the hose unit and hazmat suit that the current "disaster restoration" professionals are equipped with, but the van would probably need a more inconspicuous name to quell the neighbors' gossip fodder; ("And then she threw the skillet at his head.  Uh-huh...I heard his skull crack, I swear.  Then she called him a dirty rotten soundrel even dirter, rottener and scoundrelier than her ex-ex-boyfriend, and that she was tired of it all.  Yup, then the van pulled up.  They sure are quick, and shoot if that psychologist wasn't hot!").

Life sometimes can be disastrous.

Disastrous: –adjective

  causing great distress or injury; ruinous; very unfortunate; calamitous

Converted

Observe the "Ocean Express".  This is the "trolley" that cruises through town on some simulacrum of a schedule, although, this blog is pretty convinced the only real timetable is dependent wholly on being in my way.  Furthermore, I can discern no particularly good reason for this mechanical annoyance to exist.  No one appears to ride it, and I'm pretty sure the only place it goes is to the mall, so I'm reluctant to cast a public transit vote of confidence its way.  And "express"...total misnomer.  Get stuck behind this atrocious trolley wanna be behemoth and your regularly scheduled program will be bumped to delay.  I do not care, Sam I Am, for the "Ocean Express".  In fact, I'd toyed with the idea of an anti-trolley petition, but then I had a divine run in that gave cause for reconsideration.

Observe a baked potato.  Just a run of the spud mill steaming hot edible canoe of comfort.  This particular one isn't even particularly dressed up.  As long as they're hot and baked, they don't need to be, but, of course, part of the allure of this edible tuber is that it can be customized to any wild extent the consumer desires.

So, without further ado, it is this blog's suggestion that the unnecessarily burdensome "Ocean Express" be promptly converted to a food truck specializing in baked potatoes.  Being as there is no one riding the trolley, this will surely be of greater fiscal gain for whatever municipal functionality manages the four wheeled red beast, and it would make the general vicinity of my immediate surroundings a lot happier.  Imagine being able to acquire a steaming hot baked potato any time you want (they take a while to prepare at home and never seem to be as moist).  I'm no trolley-transform-to-baked-potato-food-truck expert, but I'm calling that a win/win.

Life sometimes can be converted.
Converted: –adjective
  to change (something) into a different form or properties; transmute; transform.

Gummy

For anyone who didn't realize what eating gummy bears in the shower can do for one's day, all I have to say (and brevity is not my strong point, so let the conciseness of this post represent the sincerity of the recommendation), try it.

Additonal word to the discerning and wise: Trader Joes has superior gummy bears on account of the mix is not sullied by the green bear; it is, instead, augmented by an aubergine bear (and he really likes the shower).

Life sometimes can be gummy.
Gummy: –adjective
  of, resembling, or of the consistency of gum; viscid; mucilaginous

Shady

Q: Why did the firefighter cross Highland St. on Saturday night?  A: To get to the fire, of course.

Observe the shady side of the street.  This blog will be the first to admit that even before the devil cast his wrath on this strip of Highland, it was shady. 

The massage place (always suspicious for reasons inherent to the trade) and the dentist office (with the neon tube lights of cowboys riding bulls--maybe the cowboys are getting their teeth knocked out (?)) suffered full-blown burnout.  Building bookends, Mark Nason and The Koffee Kart, suffered by proximity.

Observe the building formerly known as "Mark Nason".  Not unlike Mike Jones, my question persists: who is...?  According to Google's virtual sources, Mark had something to do with footwear, but I always had greater suspicions that the facade of 1100 lends not to revealing on a publicly trafficked blog.  Suffice to say, shoes?--perhaps...just shoes?--me thinks not.

Observe the window of The Koffee Kart.  This window was an eight ball short of a triangle since pre-fire.  The inexplicable break in the writing of "Breakf ast" remains a cerebral hangnail for this blogger.  The meal is not misspelled, so it's not missing any letters, so, why then the unnecessary superfluous space between the f and the a?  If you walked past it every day it just might drive you crazy.

On the sunny side, who could object to the litany of firemen and official looking investigators flocking daily to the scene?  It's enough to make someone want to open a lemonade stand (or in the spirit of The Koffee Kart, a lemo nade stand).

Life sometimes can be shady.
Shady: –adjective
  of dubious character; rather disreputable