alternative_dream_occupations tender square here’s something a lot of people don’t know about me: i’m an accomplished songwriter. well, song parody writer. i can’t for certain how long i’ve had this talent, but i like to believe that in an alternate universe i’m performing out there as weird cass yankovic. one creation that holds a special place in my heart is a ditty written in honor of a mexican restaurant in town called chela’s. it goes to the tune of eric clapton’s “layla”: chela’s you got me on my knees! chela’s i need those tacos please! chela’s darling, don’t forget the salsaaaaaaaaaaah! 210830 ... raze for some reason, i'm feeling the strangest craving for a chela's taco right now... in dreams, i've been (among other things): - a wholesome nonsexual birthday gigolo - a one-dimensional but effective shooting guard for the san antonio spurs - a transgender webcam model - a reluctant grocer - an assassin - an assistant director - a cast member on "saturday night live" - an apprentice to the red_blather janitor (played by geoffrey lewis) - a disillusioned country star - a struggling australian actor - a mentor at a tennis academy - a boxer - an ineffective sniper for some shady organization - (almost) the greatest telemarketer of all time 210830 ... tender square honestly, their tacos aren't even that good! okay, "a wholesome nonsexual birthday gigolo" really got me laughing. in all of my dreams i'm either back working at mcdonald's or at the radio station again, so i guess my fantasy life is more exciting. 210831 ... raze recent additions to my cv: - metaphysical book editor - one of the lead actors in a production clearly inspired by "satan's alley" (from the 1983 film "staying alive") - unsuccessful dog whisperer - woefully unprepared waiter - a private detective moonlighting as a zombie hunter (or is it the other way around?) 211123 ... tender_square in my early twenties, my parents owned a small talking calculator, some freebie gift they must’ve gotten from somewhere, no one really knows how it came into our possession. brea and i would goof off writing songs on the keypad to crack ourselves and mom up while hanging out in the kitchen. my sister and i had two solid gold hits: “666” and “911.” imagine two techno songs, sung in robotic voices, using the following keys: 666 = 666 = 666 = = = = = 911 clear! (ce key) 911 clear! 911 clear! clear! clear! clear! clear! (that song was specially written for brea as she attended nursing school) the calculator’s long gone now but brea and sing those songs constantly whenever we’re together, breaking out into rave dances with imaginary glowsticks nearly twenty years after the fact. it still makes us laugh. last night she said we could be “dj granny duo”; i mean, we already have these two hits to work with, which is more than what a lot of artists could say. 211126 ... unhinged labor organizer painter writer 211126 ... tender_square i want to be a hype person for a nineties band like the mighty mighty bosstones or the prodigy, where i just bring all my energy and dance at the side of the stage like a mascot wearing my floof on the inside. 220319 ... kerry getaway driver! it was pouring and i was driving an enormous suv and when i finally got to my destination i stumbled out of the car exhausted and surprised we were all alive. a police officer appeared out of nowhere and made me take a breathalyzer test, which came out clean. i took a closer look at him and it turned out he was actually donald glover, and he said he knew what i was up to, he just had to give me the breathalyzer to keep his job, but keep up the good work. and he winked at me and i went weak at the knees. 220320 ... raze last_night i was a pretty green cop who also happened to be matthew_perry. only in a dream. 240315 what's it to you? who go blather from