Lest the world not continue without a little porn for everyone: Geek Porn.

Today's Grand Bart Adventure
If I don't start having a real life outside of commuting, I'll be forced to convert my blog into a Bartblog.

Next to me today were two guys speaking the thickest jive I've ever heard. The only words I could make out were 'bitch' and 'size 34,' though I tried valiantly. As I got off the train, I decided to add money to my ticket so I didn't have to later. This is a mistake, downtown Oakland is no place to wave $20 bills around. There was a man standing in front of the ticket machine, posturing as if he was going to buy a ticket. He asked if I had 30 cents. Seeing the pile of pennies in his hand, I guessed incorrectly that he was actually trying to buy a ticket. Oh no, he was just begging. TOok the 50 cents I offered for a Bart ticket that he had no intention of buying and ran off. Fucker.

I'm grumbling to myself as I come up the stairs out of the station (this is perfectly accpeptable in lovely Oakland, especially near any Bart station entrance. It gets less acceptable as you get farther away.) and another nice man comes up and asks me for money. He's sporting an I heart Jesus lanyard and seems to understand when I (determined not to be duped again) say no. He asks if I'm going to work, what I do ("You build web pages? You must be smart!) and says he wants a soda and a bag of chips. I think we all do on some level. At this point I'm feeling sort of guiltly, or at least akward because I'm headed to the ATM to make a big deposit. I seem him again a block later, he's gathered enough for his snack so all is well with the world.

Yesterday's BART Adventure
The time is 6:39 pm, the train is leaving at 6:43 and I'm still on the 22nd floor, 2.5 blocks from the train station. The elevator gods are with me and I get on right away. I walk briskly out of the building then burst into a run once I get outside. The bank clock says 6:44 but I know it's not in synch with BART, so I keep running. I manage to fish my ticket out of my pocket and get through the turnstile, still running. I vault down the 2 level escalator, where I see a train sitting there and, as I get further down, I see the letter T on the board, for the Fremont train. My train. The doors are open and I'm still 6 steps away, still running. I put on an extra burst of speed as I reach the platform floor, crashing through the closing door and catching my foot on the door but still making it in time to catch stunned glances from the other folks on the train. I huffed and puffed for 1/2 the ride but made it home on time.

Looking for free stickers? Here's the place!

Looking for free stickers? Here's the place!

Now that I'm working in the 22nd floor, I spend a bit of time in elevators and am forced to think of things to amuse me on the ride. My current project is a series of phrases, all said with a straight face, that will force any stranger in the elevator to turn around with a look of stunned horror. Currently, the repetoire includes the hits "Man, I sure could use some weed right about now" "Hey, do you have any of that crack left from last night." and "I'm thinking of becoming a man, what do you think?"

I tested the crack one on the lone employee of the company we sublease space from who sits on our side. Jeff Ex is his name, or so we think. This has spawned great discussion of the line of products Jeff Ex is sure to create, most of them centered around the porn industry. Anyway, Jeff Ex (who has been seen eating a lonely banana at his desk) was rather amused so I know we're on the right track. Now if I just had some crack....

Today's BART Adventure
I was minding my own business on the BART today when the driver came on the loudspeaker and said that there was an emergency, we'd be delayed at Hayward while she checked it out. We came to a stop and the doors suddenly had tourette's, opening and closing without reason. The person having the emergency grew concerned because the driver came on again and said "I'll be there! Hang on!" She strutted purposefully through the car and into the one behind me, where the emergency was taking place. After a few minutes she told us all to get off the train. I could see a guy on the floor of the car grimacing and Bart people swarming to the scene as we walked downstairs and over to the other side.

After about 10 minutes the Richmond train ('train for Richmond') came by and, after almost everyone around me said "is this the Richmond train?" we all got on the new train, which was much more crowded than the original, now Medical Emergency, train. Next to me was an old Chinese couple, but instead of speaking Chinese, they spoke in sign language. Wonder if that was in Chinese or English.

I forgot to mention that last week, a man in full mariachi garb, carrying his accordion, sat near me. My co-workers were once asked to look for a corpse (! a corpse!) on the BART. They also saw a man say to the couple near him "hold my bag" then stride up to the front of the car and deck a man who had evidently grabbed the ass of a nearby woman. Sometimes, it's just more excitement than should be allowed in one day.

This is not a review of the Rich Little we saw this weekend: Concert Review: Rich Little delivers big Pops performance. Though the orchestra played many of the same pieces my own cummunity band played this year. Hmmm. Liz Dow-tay! and Rich Little, separated at birth?

I am finding some truly amazing stuff today: 76th Annual Brothers' Bowling Tournament.

Look! People I don't know! Hayden Bathroom Hot Tub.

A timeless classic, but always worth taking a moment to remember the similarities between Elvis and Jesus.

Who knew that there was an Indian version of Titanic? I can just hear the sitar music as the ship goes down.