So, usually every fall I get this problem with dandruff in my hair. However, this fall, for whatever reason, I couldn't get rid of it with the shampoo (head and shoulders) that has usually cleared it up for me in the past. I spoke to my sister in law who is a doctor and she informed me that shampoo's that might have helped before, may not help anymore because the dandruff much like the borg adapts to whatever attacks it.
I started doing some research and I found someones blog that suggests not using any shampoo to get rid of it. Meaning, you just scrub your hair with water in shower, dry and let your natural oils get rid off it. When I first read it, I was skeptic. I thought my hair would stink, but this is not the case. I just have to make sure to scrub it hardcore with my fingers for twenty seconds non stop at least, and that alone cleans it.
One thing I did do, is wash my hair with sensodine blue once per month (a total of two times up to now), while the rest of the month just washing with water. Sure enough, my dandruff is gone and my hair never looked healthier. The best part is I don't need any hair products because the natural oil in my hair lets me make any hair style I want (within the reaches of the size of hair of course). And no, there is no smell, I've asked plenty of test subjects to jam their noses in to my head for the sake of the test.
This has helped another problem as well. My hair use to fall off like crazy. I couldn't figure out why, and now I think it's due to the fact that most shampoo's have chemicals in them that burn the shit out of your roots. There was usually a nice nest of hair on the drain after each shower. Now, there is none.
So what the hell has this to do with salesmanship through and through? Well, I go in to get a haircut at great clips. To my surprise, the lady that is slowly chopping away at my hair is not saying a damn word. Usually, they are asking me all kinds of questions and what not.
I am bored at this point and just to make sure (and to converse with another human being) I ask her if she is noticing any white flakes. She informs me that there is none and asks me if I had a problem with it. So, all proud of the fact that I dared to try this new method of not using almost any hair products I inform her of why my dandruff is gone. Now, the problem here is there is other customers in the store and none is saying a godamn word except me and an occasional answer by the mute that is scizzoring my shit, so, the sound of our conversation is echoing for everyone to hear.
This is how the conversation went starting with me:
- Yeah, I read about this method where you just stop using hair products and wash your hair with water and your scalp balances its self out and gets rid of dandruff.
-(20 secs later) Yeah we have premium hair products that may help with that on that shelf in the corner.
-What? No, it's gone I don't have it anymore.
-Yeah, we don't have head and shoulders, what we have is some more quality products on there.
-Huh, no, I don't need any products, I just wash it with water.
-(another awkward 20 secs of silence) Yeah, we don't have those low cost shampoos that don't help, what we have is from quality tested companies (starts naming brands) on that shelf in the corner that...
-No lady, my dandruff is gone by just washing with water.
-Yeah, if you don't get rid of it just try one of those on the shelf over there.
Going back to the title here, this lady has some salesmanship skills through and through. See, for a second there, at the end, she even had me believing that I have dandruff all over again and that I wouldn't get rid of it unless I bought one of the premium quality products on the shelf even though a few minutes earlier she confirmed that there was no dandruff on my scalp. You can imagine how awkward the walk from the chair to the register was as I faced the lady to pay for my haircut. Even a few of the costumers, who's facial expressions seemed to signal disdain for what this lady just proved was my delusional claim at vanquishing dandruff, when, the only salvation for such a thing is whatever rests on that shelf over there in the corner. Fuck you shelf in the corner. Fuck this lady and the customers too, you can keep burning your hair.
10/17/11
intoxicated sponsoring of kids (part 2)
So, I got another letter from childfund thanking me once more for my contribution and urging me to write to the kid. What? How dare they? I mean, I am fucking working, busting my ass, two hours a week in order to send that money and I have to be the first one to write to him? "When you write to the kid and let him know a little about you, you make him more comfortable and more likely to write back"...How fucking dare they? What am I prepping this kid for a future date?
Even though it takes me like no effort to earn the measly $30 a month to send to this kid, I still feel like I am owed. Or do I? I mean technically, if I take in to account that (the country I am residing in) is financially-raping all the Latino-American countries and which directly contributes to the fact that they are poor and the reason that this kid needs money, maybe I owe him. Like half my pay, but fuck that, we're not doing that. Ill just write him the freaking letter:
"Dear insert-name-here
I am sorry that the shitty conditions you must live in are the direct result of my oppressing country holding some kind of monopoly on the goods that are produced by your country. Really, it's all standard procedure, stronger country fucks over weaker country, normal biology kid, kill or be killed. None cares about you but your mommy. Here is an extra $400, maybe with that you can afford an automatic AK-47 and start your own drug cartel in the next few years. I would suggest taking out your dad first, he will just stand in the way of your dreams and he is obviously a useless provider and another mouth to feed in the household. If you are too emotionally attached to him to kill him, shoot him in the penis so he won't make more kids that he can't take care off. Anyway, I know that is a lot for a four year old to stomach right now, just trust me on this (I am obviously from the land that's favored by god, so I know), get that kalashnikov and start practicing, you'll thank me later.
A little bit about me. I like beer. Come to think of it, I think each time I go out I spend like twice the amount that I send you, on beer per night. I also go out on dates (sometimes). Mostly with whores. Now, I doubt that you know what a whore is and I should explain it to you. It's just a woman, that has too much love to give, so she shares it around. Really, they are humanitarians. A kalashnikov will probably get you many whores, they like big guns. I also watch soccer and movies sometimes, but only because a whore is unavailable to hang out in that particular moment or not enough time has passed since last time I drank beer. You should probably watch the movie Godfather, it will help you run your cartel later on.
Well, until next letter and hope you write back."
I'm sure I'll think of something better, this is obviously a joke...
Even though it takes me like no effort to earn the measly $30 a month to send to this kid, I still feel like I am owed. Or do I? I mean technically, if I take in to account that (the country I am residing in) is financially-raping all the Latino-American countries and which directly contributes to the fact that they are poor and the reason that this kid needs money, maybe I owe him. Like half my pay, but fuck that, we're not doing that. Ill just write him the freaking letter:
"Dear insert-name-here
I am sorry that the shitty conditions you must live in are the direct result of my oppressing country holding some kind of monopoly on the goods that are produced by your country. Really, it's all standard procedure, stronger country fucks over weaker country, normal biology kid, kill or be killed. None cares about you but your mommy. Here is an extra $400, maybe with that you can afford an automatic AK-47 and start your own drug cartel in the next few years. I would suggest taking out your dad first, he will just stand in the way of your dreams and he is obviously a useless provider and another mouth to feed in the household. If you are too emotionally attached to him to kill him, shoot him in the penis so he won't make more kids that he can't take care off. Anyway, I know that is a lot for a four year old to stomach right now, just trust me on this (I am obviously from the land that's favored by god, so I know), get that kalashnikov and start practicing, you'll thank me later.
A little bit about me. I like beer. Come to think of it, I think each time I go out I spend like twice the amount that I send you, on beer per night. I also go out on dates (sometimes). Mostly with whores. Now, I doubt that you know what a whore is and I should explain it to you. It's just a woman, that has too much love to give, so she shares it around. Really, they are humanitarians. A kalashnikov will probably get you many whores, they like big guns. I also watch soccer and movies sometimes, but only because a whore is unavailable to hang out in that particular moment or not enough time has passed since last time I drank beer. You should probably watch the movie Godfather, it will help you run your cartel later on.
Well, until next letter and hope you write back."
I'm sure I'll think of something better, this is obviously a joke...
10/3/11
Intoxicated Sponsoring of Kids
I got a kid. Well, I got to sponsor a kid through Childfund. I saw their commercial while heavily intoxicated. I was in a state of euphoria, and felt i needed to share the love from my pockets (and loaded mind). When I sobered up, I was still fine with the idea. I am pretty sure I've spent more on pot than I ever will on this kid anyway.
They give you an option to pick a kid, but when I called, I just told them to pick for me. How do I choose anyway? I mean, what, once they tell me the conditions that a certain kid is living in, am I supposed to be like; "Hmmm, is there maybe a poorer kid than that?" or "that's not an area I particularly like, let that kid starve, Ill choose one from a place I'd like to visit."
They also told me that the kid would write to me every once in a while. He is four years old, he is too young to have a normal conversation. I guess, I'll write back if he writes to me first, but otherwise I don't see the point.
They sent me a pic of the kid in the brochure. I didn't really want to see the pic either. It's not because I particularly didn't want to see what this kid looks like. It's just that, I knew he would look all sad, and neglected purposely. A smart charity organization would want to present a poor kid at his worst.
I got a little identification card with the kids name and pic that you can carry around in your wallet and show your friends. It seems pretty cheesy. However, I guess it's something to whip out on a date "accidentally". Women are impressed by sponsors. One, it tells you have money. Two, you are a caring giver. And, if you are running out of conversation, this is a great saver. Maybe, just maybe you can also show it to a policeman if you are being pulled over for speeding and he'll let you go.
License and registration!
Why, officer I am in a hurry to help children (then show kid's ID).
Alright, go on your way good sir, saver of children, hero of mankind!
Reading over the last paragraph I've written, it seems like I am selling Childfund pretty good. It's unintentional really.
I've heard some people say that contributing to charities that feed the poor only helps make more poor people without improving their bad living conditions. That, we should stop helping those in need and let them die off. However, I wonder if they would think the same if they found them selves in the same poor situation as those in need.
I've heard about some other charity organizations and it seems like they sue each other for the exclusive right to help others. It's pretty ironic that they are a charity organization and they are wasting time and money in order to hold a monopoly on poor/sick people. Sounds like regular business to me. Maybe I should start my own charity organization and sue others charity organizations. The point is, these organizations need to be investigated before committing to one. Which is totally not what I did. I only did a little bit of research after wards.
I haven't heard anything bad about Charityfund so far. However, the community organization with which Charityfund is cooperating in order to allocate the money properly in that particular area, is nowhere to be found on the internet. Meaning, I can't find the organizations website nor any info on them. But, anyway, fuck it...hope this kid gets my money.
They give you an option to pick a kid, but when I called, I just told them to pick for me. How do I choose anyway? I mean, what, once they tell me the conditions that a certain kid is living in, am I supposed to be like; "Hmmm, is there maybe a poorer kid than that?" or "that's not an area I particularly like, let that kid starve, Ill choose one from a place I'd like to visit."
They also told me that the kid would write to me every once in a while. He is four years old, he is too young to have a normal conversation. I guess, I'll write back if he writes to me first, but otherwise I don't see the point.
They sent me a pic of the kid in the brochure. I didn't really want to see the pic either. It's not because I particularly didn't want to see what this kid looks like. It's just that, I knew he would look all sad, and neglected purposely. A smart charity organization would want to present a poor kid at his worst.
I got a little identification card with the kids name and pic that you can carry around in your wallet and show your friends. It seems pretty cheesy. However, I guess it's something to whip out on a date "accidentally". Women are impressed by sponsors. One, it tells you have money. Two, you are a caring giver. And, if you are running out of conversation, this is a great saver. Maybe, just maybe you can also show it to a policeman if you are being pulled over for speeding and he'll let you go.
License and registration!
Why, officer I am in a hurry to help children (then show kid's ID).
Alright, go on your way good sir, saver of children, hero of mankind!
Reading over the last paragraph I've written, it seems like I am selling Childfund pretty good. It's unintentional really.
I've heard some people say that contributing to charities that feed the poor only helps make more poor people without improving their bad living conditions. That, we should stop helping those in need and let them die off. However, I wonder if they would think the same if they found them selves in the same poor situation as those in need.
I've heard about some other charity organizations and it seems like they sue each other for the exclusive right to help others. It's pretty ironic that they are a charity organization and they are wasting time and money in order to hold a monopoly on poor/sick people. Sounds like regular business to me. Maybe I should start my own charity organization and sue others charity organizations. The point is, these organizations need to be investigated before committing to one. Which is totally not what I did. I only did a little bit of research after wards.
I haven't heard anything bad about Charityfund so far. However, the community organization with which Charityfund is cooperating in order to allocate the money properly in that particular area, is nowhere to be found on the internet. Meaning, I can't find the organizations website nor any info on them. But, anyway, fuck it...hope this kid gets my money.
9/26/11
Books vs The Kindle/other reading boards
I can tell you immediately that I much prefer books to the kindle. First of all, they are physical property, unlike their virtual counterpart. There is a certain character to books. The character comes from many different attributes to the book. It can be modified or simply how the book was made.
The different covers a book can have, is always an interesting thing. It adds something to the world the book is trying to portray. If it's a really old piece of literature, then, you can find old covers that aren't printed any more and that adds to the value (in my mind). They also let you know a little bit about the marketing strategy of the book at that particular time. It reveals a little bit about whatever was in the mind of the publisher/marketers, that made them think such a cover would sell more copies.
Above all, I love used books. Whether they be borrowed or store bought, there is always a little side gift. There is little notes here and there left by previous owners. Hand underlined sentences that sometimes leave an enigma if you can't find a meaning in them. The condition in which the cover and pages aged give little clues about the personality/ies of previous owners. Even little things, like the smell of humidity or dust accumulated withing the pages, give insight in to it's whereabouts. Dried up droplets of some kind of liquid of whatever color as gifts embedded in this book's papery soul by previous owners clumsiness, or intentionally.
Sometimes, you find even more. A little piece of paper with a note on it. Phone numbers, code words, e-mails, recipes... The best of all that I've found was a break up letter from one lover to another. I wonder if the person for whom it was intended, ever read it. Was this note intended to be read as a surprise by the person to whom the book was given to once they stumbled upon it? Did the receiver just think that someone forgot the letter in there and never opened it with the thought that they would return the book? Or did they just simply read it, and leave it in there as some sort of memory and then forgot about it as they've gotten rid of the book? I'll never know, but at least I am part of this book's voyage. Unlike it's virtual counter part.
I realize that the kindle (and other reading boards) get the advantage of convenience. The convenience of carrying many books at one time. And I give it that. But, at the same time, I wonder who needs to carry more than one book around besides a student. If you are going on some long trip, is it really that dull that you need more than one book (or any book at all) to divert your attention from living in the moment?
The different covers a book can have, is always an interesting thing. It adds something to the world the book is trying to portray. If it's a really old piece of literature, then, you can find old covers that aren't printed any more and that adds to the value (in my mind). They also let you know a little bit about the marketing strategy of the book at that particular time. It reveals a little bit about whatever was in the mind of the publisher/marketers, that made them think such a cover would sell more copies.
Above all, I love used books. Whether they be borrowed or store bought, there is always a little side gift. There is little notes here and there left by previous owners. Hand underlined sentences that sometimes leave an enigma if you can't find a meaning in them. The condition in which the cover and pages aged give little clues about the personality/ies of previous owners. Even little things, like the smell of humidity or dust accumulated withing the pages, give insight in to it's whereabouts. Dried up droplets of some kind of liquid of whatever color as gifts embedded in this book's papery soul by previous owners clumsiness, or intentionally.
Sometimes, you find even more. A little piece of paper with a note on it. Phone numbers, code words, e-mails, recipes... The best of all that I've found was a break up letter from one lover to another. I wonder if the person for whom it was intended, ever read it. Was this note intended to be read as a surprise by the person to whom the book was given to once they stumbled upon it? Did the receiver just think that someone forgot the letter in there and never opened it with the thought that they would return the book? Or did they just simply read it, and leave it in there as some sort of memory and then forgot about it as they've gotten rid of the book? I'll never know, but at least I am part of this book's voyage. Unlike it's virtual counter part.
I realize that the kindle (and other reading boards) get the advantage of convenience. The convenience of carrying many books at one time. And I give it that. But, at the same time, I wonder who needs to carry more than one book around besides a student. If you are going on some long trip, is it really that dull that you need more than one book (or any book at all) to divert your attention from living in the moment?
9/19/11
Extra Hour of Sleep
Having to show up an extra hour later for work doesn't help me since my body is used to waking up at a certain time. Speaking of work, today I was eaves dropping on two doctors in an argument. It was an unwilling eaves dropping as they were yelling. I don't think they were mad at each other. It's just years of schooling and dealing with idiot patients that due to indifference either refuse to take their pills or simply forget. If I recall correctly the conversation went something along the lines:
Fuck this bullshit, I'm tired of putting up with-
I know I've been telling them for years that when that retarded ass shit-
and what am I supposed to do with all that bullshit ass paper work now-
not like they care, fucking including me in something like-
if it was up to me I'd tear that bullshit up...
The juvenile application of the words used in their conversation made me feel serene and loved. It must be life or because I'm altruistic. I love my job. Bullshit is at a minimum. They thank me for being semi-useless. None cares if I nap or read books on the job. I guess it's the nature of the business. It costs less to have me around all the time then to contract someone when they are truly needed.
There was some kind of meeting for the first half of the working day. Come to think of it that is probably what incinerated the madness between the two doctors. I stayed for an hour, then pretended to go to the restroom just to make my escape to the car for a drive. There were about a hundred people at the meeting and none that pays my paycheck was there, so it was pretty viable.
I over heard the conversation between the two doctors because I was waiting in the office to interpret for a young attractive nurse practitioner (and because they were yelling). Working with attractive women makes my day go by faster. I've been working with her for a while now. Even though she has a boyfriend, she inquires about my life and enjoys talking to me. She strikes up conversation first. I can't say I would reject her if she hit on me, but I definitely would not hit on her first.
Besides, she is a fake blond and wears a lot of eyeshadow. On another note I think a kilo of eyeshadow makes a beauty out of a beast. Not that this is the case with her necessarily. I wonder what she looks like without it though.
A while back I had to interpret for her for an STD check up. Judging by her uneasiness this was the first situation for her of that sort. She had to crouch down and examine a patients penis while he remained standing up with his pants down. I think she was uncomfortable with the fact that I had to witness just how close her face was to that penis (and the fact that she had to fondle it in front of me). Once she got up, she gave me a dumb smile, the kind you give when you are exiting an already awkward situation which you don't know exactly how to exit so you say some stupid joke that you know is not funny as you give a weak and faint laugh which makes it even more awkward, and then you leave. Except she didn't leave, her dumbfounded smile kept lingering as her eyes searched my face for some kind of approval. She was searching for certainty that I wasn't going to ridicule her for this or maybe insinuate to other staff how well "that hot nurse handled a penis". In all my professional glory I twisted the end of my lip to form a short and curt smile followed by an assertive nod of approval. She has been requesting me personally ever since.
Fuck this bullshit, I'm tired of putting up with-
I know I've been telling them for years that when that retarded ass shit-
and what am I supposed to do with all that bullshit ass paper work now-
not like they care, fucking including me in something like-
if it was up to me I'd tear that bullshit up...
The juvenile application of the words used in their conversation made me feel serene and loved. It must be life or because I'm altruistic. I love my job. Bullshit is at a minimum. They thank me for being semi-useless. None cares if I nap or read books on the job. I guess it's the nature of the business. It costs less to have me around all the time then to contract someone when they are truly needed.
There was some kind of meeting for the first half of the working day. Come to think of it that is probably what incinerated the madness between the two doctors. I stayed for an hour, then pretended to go to the restroom just to make my escape to the car for a drive. There were about a hundred people at the meeting and none that pays my paycheck was there, so it was pretty viable.
I over heard the conversation between the two doctors because I was waiting in the office to interpret for a young attractive nurse practitioner (and because they were yelling). Working with attractive women makes my day go by faster. I've been working with her for a while now. Even though she has a boyfriend, she inquires about my life and enjoys talking to me. She strikes up conversation first. I can't say I would reject her if she hit on me, but I definitely would not hit on her first.
Besides, she is a fake blond and wears a lot of eyeshadow. On another note I think a kilo of eyeshadow makes a beauty out of a beast. Not that this is the case with her necessarily. I wonder what she looks like without it though.
A while back I had to interpret for her for an STD check up. Judging by her uneasiness this was the first situation for her of that sort. She had to crouch down and examine a patients penis while he remained standing up with his pants down. I think she was uncomfortable with the fact that I had to witness just how close her face was to that penis (and the fact that she had to fondle it in front of me). Once she got up, she gave me a dumb smile, the kind you give when you are exiting an already awkward situation which you don't know exactly how to exit so you say some stupid joke that you know is not funny as you give a weak and faint laugh which makes it even more awkward, and then you leave. Except she didn't leave, her dumbfounded smile kept lingering as her eyes searched my face for some kind of approval. She was searching for certainty that I wasn't going to ridicule her for this or maybe insinuate to other staff how well "that hot nurse handled a penis". In all my professional glory I twisted the end of my lip to form a short and curt smile followed by an assertive nod of approval. She has been requesting me personally ever since.
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