I suck at saving the videos I take on Halloween

With my last post I promised to get drunk and go to the Halloween parade in Tempe. I took the bus to Mill Ave. just around midnight. The scene there was bedlam. I recommend going to the Halloween parade on Mill if you can.

The parade featured tons of crazies, hundreds of drunks, and of course girls in slutty outfits.

I promised you I would take videos and pictures of the scene. I did, or at least I thought I did. I guess it turns out that I don't quite know how to use my phone as well as I thought I did. I ended up with just one video of a dancing guy with his shirt off, and a few poorly lit shots of scenery with no actual people in costumes. That's because I tried taking my pictures from the balcony at Hooter's after drinking a large beer or two.

I like photography and like every girl in the 8th grade I thought I could grow up to be a a professional photographer. I regret to inform you that is never going to happen. I'd like to blame the poor picture quality and all the videos I forgot to save on the fact that I was drunk, but I think we all know that most photographers wake up drunk, and take their best photos high on the cocaine they steal from the half-naked models they shoot.

I guess I will have to limit my dreams photographic artistry to that of becoming a director, because directors can always hire a cinematographer (and when you learn that directors aren't usually cinematographers you have to ask yourself just what the hell is it that a director does?)

Either way I did not include the Halloween pics I took in this post because that would require me to picture text my e-mail address, and then save the pics from the e-mail to my computer before I could even consider posting them on the blog, and that sounds like a lot of work just to show off a bunch of badly taken photographs that you would probably just laugh at, and wonder what all the fuss was over this whole Tempe Halloween Parade.

I could describe to you some of the vids and pics you missed.



There is the video of the two girls walking past me and whispering to one another, "what is that guy doing?" While pointing at me and covering themselves up. Like it wasn't obvious that I was just standing in the only well lit part of Mill with my camera open and recording slutty girls as they walked by.

I'm kinda glad I did not save that video as I was actually a bit embarrassed by what I was doing at the time, because I wasn't drunk enough to shrug off the comment and make a witty retort.

You also missed me getting permission to record the girl dressed as Snow White. The girl dressed as Snow White went around asking for donations of a dollar if you wanted to get a photograph with her. Since I asked her for a video clip, and I told her I was going to post it on my blog, I offered her two dollars as a donation. She gladly accepted.

In the video I never got around to asking her the questions I wanted her to answer like, "why she was out here asking for money." I decided that she needed the donations to pay for the costume. I also wanted to know how much she money she had collected. I know for a fact that just standing around that night she made more money than than I will ever make off this blog and all she did was walk around and look sorta cute holding an apple that said "$1 for pictures."

Maybe I should do that with my camera. I could send 30 second videos to all my fans where I wish them or their brethren a happy day or wonderful wedding. Though I would suggest you ask me to send video text messages of me making fun of the people you know- like those that have recently lost their jobs, or the fag who just got dumped by his girl friend.

I've had other money making ideas like my greeting card business. Some of my lucky co-workers and friends have had the good fortune of receiving my personalized Christmas or Valentine's Day cards. They can tell you they first saw my genius in those cards.

I bring up all those money making ideas because I am looking for a new job. Well I am not looking yet, but I have officially run of patience with my current job.

I was in a funk all day because all I could think was how much I hated my job, and how much hated my life, and how all I wanted to do today was stay home and watch the Dallas Cowboys on TV and drink coke and eat burgers from Sonic, because I like the way Sonic pairs their burgers with delicious sides like Tater Tots.

I was depressed before I even got out of bed today, but it did not help that right after waking up I read a long article on the suicide of David Foster Wallace. After reading the article I got to thinking that nothing really mattered because like David Foster Wallace said, "the disease of depression is really us."

He also talked about how suicides have already killed themselves before the final act and that at the end they are really just being tidy with their bodies.

That got me thinking a lot about cowardice.

They say that a coward dies a thousand tiny deaths and I suppose by now you all know what a coward I am. They say that a dying a cowards death is supposed to be way worse than dying with courage, or dying with at least with something approaching dignity. I would have no idea about that.

All I know is that when I signed up for being a coward I had no idea that I would have to endure the knowledge that I was a coward. I guess that is what the whole 1,000 deaths thing is supposed to illustrate, but I wasn't paying attention. I stopped paying attention to the world as soon as I figured out that I was not some kind of grand character in the struggle for world history.

Even though I am depressed, I did not call in sick. I was tempted though. I was so tempted to stay home that I waited to leave for work until I had only 15 minutes to get to work.

I still got to work on time so I don't think anyone noticed how miserable I was until people started to ask me how I was and I told them I was miserable and hated my life and my job and that basically there was nothing worth living for except surfing the web and burying myself away from all the responsibilities that a decent person should have.

Of course if we were to be decent folk we would all have to be Gandhi, and I am sure none of have the stomachs for that so for the most part people just do what they can. They drop their spare change in the March of Dimes buckets and wander around the suburbs with Obama stickers on their S.U.V.'s.

I used to think those people suffered from false consciousness or at least figured they were victims of capitalism in the sense that their lives were inauthentic (or jeez I can't remember what Fromm said about that but hey it is 4:08 in the morning and I just worked a 9 hour shift, ok a 3:30 to midnight shift is not 9 hours, but you get the point--- I can't think straight right now.

The whole point being that I no longer think those people are any different than me. I am them, and they are me.

Only, I actually think the "starving children" in Sub Saharan Africa are actually dying from starvation and that their swollen bellies really are a signs of severe starvation and being on the brink of death, unlike some of the people I work with who are convinced that all non-profits steal your money and pocket the money that happily fed children in Africa and Asia just don't need because that person used to be in the business of calling strangers to get them to donate money to charities in a previous career.

I'm not certain why that person left the high paying field of the Charitable con game in order to cook raw chicken over a rotisserie for you, but the fact that the man refuses to wash his hands or clothes means you should take him at his word, or at least stop eating the chicken.

While I am at it I should say that from here on forward I promise to stop calling Mr. Fawkes a bastard. Unless he deserves it.

I wan't to mention that telling all your friends and co-workers about your blog can backfire when they demand new blog posts from you every day, even though I write this shit for free, and I have over 1,000 posts just like this in the archives that they could be reading, so you can all stop trying to make me feel guilty and go read the archives, because if there is anything you need to know about my life is that it is exactly the same as it was 10 years ago.