Monday, December 29, 2008

I am too real for blogging, or maybe just haven't figured it out.

I'm currently traveling in a country where bombing the shit out of people is considered a legitimate activity, so I've been spending a fair amount of time on the internet to keep from going nutso. Anyway, I've realized that for years I've been collecting blogworthy content, but have been too busy actually living an interesting life to bother to post any of it. In fact a great deal of the stuff I've found and produced isn't even digitized yet, and has been languishing in browsing histories, little black notebooks, shoe boxes and slide binders for, well, ever. That should change, once I'm back to base. The internet desrves to know what a meaningful and content-filled life I lead, and while the only people who give a damn about my cabbing experiences are anthropology grad students, my other interests/writing/photos may have wider appeal. Just a guess. Who knows. Too bad I'm literally halfway around the world from all that stuff.

Another thing: is it ok to blog stuff that you made in the past? Aren't blogs chronological, and won't it be screwing up the natural order of blogtime to post a bunch of shit all at once that ought to have come out sequentially when it was first produced?

Blogging is confusing.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Blog life begins


I'm drinking Anchor Steam Beer in a downstairs pseudo-ethnic restaurant. It's this guys birthday.


My stories are about:
1. The taxi staff party last week on Tues.: mind-bendingly loud Bangra, wicked Indian food, men dancing together.
2. Trash can electronic music machines. Apparently Aaron just threw out a broken 303. I couldve fixed n used that.
3. Ford Rangers. Doin doughnuts. It's been snowing for two days. It never snows here. I'm off work for that reason.

Now that I've got blogger on my phone my blog life can begin. Too bad this app sucks and I cab only upload via wireless and not the 3g network. And it's a bitch to edit on. WTF blog press.

-- Post From My iPhone

Thursday, August 28, 2008

Bird in Hand

Tonight I stopped for a flag on the way to a dispatched call, which took me in the opposite direction of the dispatch. The flag ran off from a $20 fare, went inside the warren of a housing project to get money... yeah right. I waited ten minutes for them to come back, then got fed up and booked to the call.

By the time I reached the house where the dispatch had originated they had split, too. The place was a huge country house with four varieties of done-up SUV in the driveway. After only a few minutes a Porsche SUV pulled into the driveway,
"I was right here when they called to cancel the dispatch, about twenty minutes ago," the woman said, as if I might not believe her.
"I never received that message," I said.

When I pulled the flag, my computer set to Loaded, meaning that the office thought I'd picked up the dispatched fare. They wouldn't need to let me know the ride was cancelled, since on their screen I had been traveling with the fare for twenty minutes or more.

A new rule: don't go for flags.