Pirooz Kalayeh Lives to Dance with the Moon and Southern Women

So after 4 days of coughing shit up, I think I am ready to venture out into the world. To celebrate feeling slightly better, I gave myself a faux hawk today. Well half of one. At least that's what my brother told me.

"You look like Billy Idol," he said.

That totally cracked me up. Then I had to see the thing for myself. I mean I cut that hair, but I didn't really pay attention to what I was doing. He says I got a mullet, but it doesn't look that bad to me. Yeah, there are some bald spots, but big whoop. That's character, right?

Anyway, I'm celebrating. I will go back to work tomorrow. I don't have much of an appetite right now, and I'm as pale as a Saltine, but pekidness will do for another day at the WG.


In other news, I have been working on poetry lately. I am writing love poems. I hope I'll have a book of these by the beginning of June. Here was the latest.

I will try and write another tonight. Maybe. I'm still a bit wiped. I might just watch 2001: Space Odyssey, and these old NASA documentaries I got from Netflix.

What else? Yes, I did talk to Paiman and Jenny. She was glowing, and he was all Gilbert from Anne of Avonlea bashful. The ring was beatiful. Nice and blinding, with a little bling bling and a hello mama! It'll be cool now to have a sister. I have not had one before. Now I will have two. It looks like the other brother has found a soulmate as well. Her name is Letecia, and she's from Brooklyn, and we've talked on the phone, and she seems really sweet. Panauh leaves on Friday to meet her parents, and convince them that he is an A-Okay guy, so that Letecia will have her parents' blessing to come live with him.

Now this means I will have the both of them in the apartment with me. It will be great fun. I am sure. It's like the one who knows says, "The person you live with, is the one you learn from." Speaking of the one who knows, I don't really know if she really does. I will go meet her next Saturday. I am pretty excited for that.

I am not excited about the car though. It looks like "White Girl" (what JP and Paiman call her) has busted a thermostat again. I had to pull off the 101 and throw a bottled water on her. The mechanic thought I was crazy. He almost spit on me.

"Don't do that," he said.

"Okay," I said.

"And move your car to the side, you're blocking my pump."

"Okay," I said, and then I did. I moved it right out of his lot and back home. I will find someone a little less pushy to fix "white girl."


Well, that's it for me. I've done more comics. I've got some interviews to post. I am moving slowly back into the thump of things. Thank you for your kind words. They really did help. It pulled me from the brink. No joke. In fact, I wrote a song of thanks it goes like this...

PS. Has anyone checked out Allison Stine? I love her writing and her blog. She is fantastic. A real jewel. So much HEART.

PSS. If I offended anyone with the song by not talking about them, or saying the word 'Asians' believe me I meant it! No, just kidding. It was on the fly. I just picked up the bass and sang. I have half the mind to put everyone in there, but then it would be too much effort. Let me make it easy by saying an extra special thank to Mary Rachel and JP. I will do an improv for you tomorrow--JP yours might have to wait until the next day, because when I start singing to Southern women I get crazy. It's something about them. Idon't know. Ah, no, I do. I'm a sucker for accents. Believe it. Only accented women need to be on the radio. I would buy every product. And if they're Southern, dear God have mercy, because I will pull over and get me whatever it is they want me to get...

Woman with Southern Accent: (Over Radio) Pirooz, buy a pinstripe suit. Put it on. Take me out to dinner.
TU and ZI to MCU of Pirooz's eyebrows. They are furrowed. He tries to resist. He looks to his left.
PL to MS--Woolworth's.
Cut to: MCU--Pirooz's eyebrows. They relax. He has stopped the car. He is buying the pinstripe.

Anyway, I've got work to do. I could keep this going, but it seems a fantasy that will be better left to my dreams. Adios amigos. Shasta your pasta, P.

Okay hold on...

Just a wee bit more...

TU to a SIGN.
It reads: 50% off Pinstripes.

Pirooz races down Aisle 7. Aisle 9. He shimmies up to Aisle 11 and cartwheels into a backflip and lands feet first into a pinstripe held by none other, than Miss Emmy Lou Hawkins. (She recently joined Woolworth's after a freakish accident with squirrels. She almost lost her entire bottom lip.)

Emmy Lou: I'm lucky there was a doctor around.
Pirooz: (overly dramatic) You don't mean--
Emmy Lou: Yes, my cousin Shenanaw. She was walking by, and took care of me real good.

Okay, dude, stop! This is getting ridiculous. Where is this going? Now you're going to piss people off who've got Southern Accents. Just let it go.

-I can't. I have to trust the process. It will even itself out.

Dude, I am hungry. We got 2001. It's 12:38. Time for bed. Come on, now!

-Yeah, well, he's right. I got to listen to the body. That's what got me sick in the first place...

Pirooz holds her in his arms. He kisses her. She tells him lots of other things in an accent. It doesn't matter what she says. Who cares if she doesn't have any lips, because of that squirrel. Pirooz is happy. Emmy Lou is happy. And my body is happy. I am not sick, and I am going to watch 2001 for about, oh, 30 seconds.

Gutentag! To All!

Especially to girls with accents.

-And ones with pretty eyes.

And Jim.

-Sure, Jim. Yeah, goodnite, Jim. What do we care, eh? We're talking about ladies.

And don't forget Kyle, and Sara, Dylan

-Okay, later. Sure-sure.

Panauh, and Paiman. John. Jenny

-Bore me already.

Goodnight beautiful people. Until we blog again.


John Posatko said...

Check out P-rizzle rockin' the Bright Eyes tip!

Pirooz M. Kalayeh said...

What does that mean?