Evil Is The New Sexy


Hello, my baby aliens. How sexy is my new evil logo mama? Very, you say. Very very.

When I ride my bike to the train in the mornings, I zoom through the heart of MexiCali. The glassy-eyed shopkeepers are hosing down the pissy sidewalks. El Chico #4, our produce shop (I'm not kidding. I don't know where #1-3 are, but I saw a truck for #5 once!), is just opening its gate. The crossing guard is waving on a new generation of underprivileged students. And I'm playing Kamikaze Bike Race, video game style.

Now, I know I've said it before, perhaps in every entry I've ever written, but it always needs repeating: I'm not fond of humanity. I have, however, the perfect way to get around being a raving homicidal bitch in the morning.

My dinosaur bell.

God bless. It's a bell! With a dinosaur on it! That's right!

So I'm always in my own little world, ringing my bell at anyone who dares cross my path, including most cars, zipping along past the corner of 23rd and M*ission, where there's a Bank of A*merica with a security guard by the ATM's.

This dude is the only guy who catches my wavelength in the morning. He's big, buff, tough, and quite frankly, terrifying. He's got the police-style shades and full security regalia. He's ready to kick some ass.

For the last year, Security Dude has been fucking with me. It always makes me laugh. He pretends I'm gonna run him over and cowers in fear. Or he plays chicken with me while I ringringring. Good times.

So last Friday I said to myself, "Beta, are your really THAT BIG A BITCH that you can't even bother to stop for two seconds one morning and find out what this guy's name is? How can you share a laugh with someone every fucking morning and not even care what they're called in this universe?"

So I did it. Screeched to a halt and did the chit chat. We'll call him Leonard, cause that's his name. Leonard lives in the East Bay and works in my neighborhood. I work in the East Bay and live in my neighborhood. So, as you can see, we had much to discuss.

That is until he said, "Well maybe I'll take you out to dinner sometime."


I would've been perturbed if my new little friend asked me out, regardless, because, Jesus, can't you TALK to someone without getting hit on? I think so.

But he didn't ask me out. He mused that he would indeed take me out. What I thought wasn't part of the equation.

I ride down the other block now.

On Quicksand and Hydration - 2005-03-05
Bra Bustin' - 2005-01-15
Fuckhead Fuckers (and Other Happy Tales) - 2004-11-04
Tough Luck for Tucker Tuckass - 2004-10-19
Blink, Breathe, Blink, Breathe - 2004-10-14
Betabitch, words & design, so play nice.