Wednesday, September 30, 2015

Doomtown Feature Interview: The Crazy Homeless Guy on the Corner of Poydras and South Claiborne Avenue

I was driving to work one day, trying to think of a good interview subject, when I happened upon a homeless guy standing on the corner of Poydras Street. He was holding a sign warning of the dangers of a coming Martian invasion, and begging for money. To be fair, I'm not sure if Mr. Shazam Dynamite-the name he gave me-is truly one of the city's disenfranchised. He claimed to have a home and plenty to eat but needed the money for the spaceship he is building to escape the "Red Menace". Here's the scoop I was able to get from him while waiting for the light to turn green.

Karma Girl: Can you tell me how you ended up here?

Shazam Dynamite: Took the bus.

KG: I meant how you came to be at such a low point in your life, but sure. What's up with the sign?

Shaz: The Meanies, they follow me, but I'm too smart for them. Gave 'em the slip.

KG: The Meanies?

Shaz: The Red Meanies. The Red Menace.

KG: ...Communists?

Shaz: (Gives me an irritated groan) No, you idiot! I think of Mars. It will be our destruction, make no mistake!

KG: Okay then. Why are the Martians going to attack us? I hear they have water now, so what's the deal?

Shaz: The water story is a lie, a ruse made up by our red planet oppressors. They try to give us a false sense of calm, but I'm on to them. Oh yes.

KG: They want our water, you're saying?

Shaz: (Looks at me like I'm crazy) Don't be foolish. They want our women. They need to procreate with humans to make a super race of beings that will wipe us all out by the year 2050. It's been foretold.

KG: Where?

Shaz: Where what?

KG: Where has it been foretold? Who foretold this?

Shaz: It has been foretold by the ancients.

KG: That's not very helpfull, but sure. Tell me about your name. Where did you come up with Shazam Dynamite? Did you make it, up or did your parents lose a bet?

Shaz: It was given to me.

KG: By your parents?

Shaz: By the guardians of the world beyond.

KG: You're godparents?

Shaz: They are guardians, not Gods. But it is good of you to say so.

KG: What are you planning to do with the money you collect?

Shaz: I will build a transportation device to send the women of this planet to a safe destination beyond the stars.

KG: That might be tricky. Lot of women on this planet. What if they don't want to come?

Shaz: (Shrugs) You can't save every gilt from the farmer's axe nor can you force every heiffer to run from the slaughter house. It has been said.

KG: Try not comparing women to farm animals. You'll get farther.

Shaz: You think?

KG: (I nod) Now we've come to the part of the interview process that I call THE SERIOUS THREE-

Shaz: Huh?

KG: In this segment, I ask you three deleriously dour, impressively serious questions. Are you ready, Shazam?

Shaz: ...This is an interview? Where are the cameras? (Fixes his hair)

Question #1: How many Martians does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

Shaz: You're mocking me, aren't you?

KG: No.

Shaz: Okay. Well, I guess it would probably be around thirteen because of all the tentacles.

Question #2: What is the meaning of life?

Shaz: Be true to yourself. Also, farfegnugen.

Question #3: Where can my readers follow you?

Shaz: (Looks around suspiciously) Who's following me? You brought them right to me, didn't you?!?!

KG: Thank you, Mr. Dynamite for taking the time to answer my questions. (My light turns green. I hand him a five dollar bill.)

Shaz: (Face brightens up) Hey! Thanks, lady! I'll be sure to save a seat for you on the Evac ship.

(I quickly drive away....)

Monday, September 28, 2015

Massage Time: Calories, Calories, Calories...

After five months of eating everything in sight, I've decided it's time to get back on the wagon. Again. I know, I know. I've done this before. In my defense, my entire dieting regiment was thrown off kilter in May when I was dealing with an excruciatingly painful canker sore on the roof of my mouth. By the time it healed, I would have raised Terry Pratchett from the dead and punched him in his awesome face if it meant I could eat anything that wasn't of a cold mashed potato consistency. I love me some Terry Pratchett, but I love food more.

Nothing personal, dude.

So I'm back to calorie counting and exercising. I've even added swimming to my workout routine. It's a good calorie burner, even though I need a freaking life belt to keep afloat. You would think with all the junk I have in my trunk I wouldn't need a floatation device. I asked Neesa Johnson, a colleague of mine, her opinion on the matter, and she suggested to me that I might have high bone density which causes people to sink like a stone when trying to swim. This makes me feel vindicated after years of telling people I'm not fat, just big boned.

Told you, bitches!

"Hold on a minute there, Ke-mo Sah-bee!" I hear y'all saying. But really I don't because this is the internet and I'm not psychic. "What does any of this have to do with massage? You're not trying to get out of writing yet another blog post are you?"

"Why would I try to get out of writing a blog post by writing another blog post?" Is what I would say if, in fact, I did hear y'all talking trash. "This thing is WAY too long to be a lazy post. And who the hell still says Ke-mo Sah-bee? Am I even spelling that shit right?"

I would totally say that. Super totes.

But to answer your question, I asked Ms. Johnson if I should include massage as a calorie burning exercise, and if so, how many calories does it burn, anyway? I looked it up and was surprised to find a 160 pound female burns approximately 289 calories doing an hour's worth of massage. That seemed a bit high since I don't feel as if I'm exerting myself quite that much. I calculated for my weight and came up with 273 calories which still seems high. I can sometimes do five or six massages in a day, so why am I not a twig?

Well, for one, I only recently started watching what I eat, so my calorie intake has been higher than my calorie burning expenditure regardless of how much I work. And two, I do massage five days a week. My body has adapted itself to except massage as a normal activity. It's the same reason personal trainers tell you not to do the same workout over and over, Neesa said. Your body retains its fat because it adapts to repeated routines. And because it hates you.

So after all this research, I've decided to count a fraction of those calories burned, but only if I've had an extremely hard workday, like if I get a lot of deep tissue work and expend more than usual. I'm hoping at the very least to earn myself enough calories to drink a beer.

Hard apple cider. Because I'm a drunk with distinguished tastes. And because real beer tastes...beery?

Sunday, September 13, 2015

Lazy Time Reblog Sunday: 1000 Awesome Things

These past couple months have been sheer hell. Not just the ordinary, run of the mill hell. Sheer. Hell. Which is only slightly better than absolute hell, but not as good as...well, good. I've been dealing with uncontrollable food cravings, wacked out mood swings, and an existential crisis of infinite proportions. I'm not pregnant. In fact, if my recently fired gynecologist had his way, I'd never have children at all.
But that's a blog post for another day.
Instead, here are a few awesome things to cheer us all up! This month's Lazy Time Reblog Sunday is dedicated to Neil Pasricha and his aptly named blog, 1000 Awesome Things. Pasricha started the blog in 2008 after his divorce and a close friend's suicide encouraged him to find those "bright spots in the darkness".
So here's Awesome Thing #160. Be sure to buy one of Mr. Pasricha's many books and/or submit an awesome thing of your own.

#160 Going really fast over speed bumps in the back of a school bus

It’s a different world.
The back of the schoolbus is a strange seatbeltless land far away from teachers, parents, and watching eyes. Slide on the slippery vinyl seats, let your booger noses drip, and laugh out loud with your eight-year old pals as you bump and bounce along to school.
When the bus smacks a big bump there’s suddenly a blurry scene of flying elbow-scabbed arms and grass-stained knees. Butts leave the seat, faces smack the window, and some kid sitting backwards sucking on a juice box might even go rolling right down the aisle.
You keep your looping roller coasters and fancy water slides.
We’ll take these big ol’ speed bumps on our daily school bus rides.