joe tacopino

I like to buy these old baseball cards, then compare mustaches. (Taken with instagram)

Taken with instagram

I didn’t look at the cover before opening this issue of Time Out New York that was lying on the radiator in my bathroom. Something seemed a bit off, ie dated material. Old albums and bands long forgotten in the hourglass, sands of time, ether… These weekly issues probably aren’t meant to have a long shelf life. But, 2008? Damn. Who keeps magazines this long, anyway? cc: wifey

This made me laugh, but I think it’s pretty obvious what happened here.

Google ads don’t target certain videos, they target users.

And given that I constantly google (verb) political shit like “Newt Gingrich had how many wives?” mostly for work reasons, Google (the company) probably thinks I have some strange fascination with the GOP primary. This makes me the key demographic for a Mitt Romney ad! Even if I am watching a Raekwon video with the Scarface-inspired coke on the face image plastered on the screen the entire time.

For a control example I opened up the Raekwon video on a separate browser. The one that I tell my daughter to use for reasons just like this. (I don’t want “Wimpy Kid” ads popping up on MY shit.) Alas, the Romney ad did not appear.

My land line woke me up at 8 a.m. Which, as I noted on Twitter, was strange because I always forget I have a land line. It only rings once or twice a week (maybe more, I work and all). But, point is, I never answer it. I always assume that it’s the authorities, or a bill collector of some kind.

I get a lot of solicitors, or I did at least. (I believe I successfully entered the Do Not Call database.) But, every so often the Staten Island Advance calls me, to buy a subscription. This is funny to me, in an ironic way.

At some point in my post-graduate school journalism “career” I had interviewed for a full-time position there, which turned into a one-day “try-out.” My efforts that day landed on the front-page of the next morning’s edition.

Despite my efforts however, they never called me. I emailed, and emailed again. But they never called. All these many months later, as I am (temporarily) employed somewhere else, and happily contribute to that paper as a “music writer,” I have never found out about that full-time position yet I receive regular solicitations to subscribe to their paper. Should’ve made it above the fold!

This is not surprising to me. In fact, it’s the most likely outcome to emerge from that scenario. And maybe it’s the best. As my lawyer once said to me, after I paid her $2,000: “You’re kind of a smart ass.”

I’m shoving all this crap in a stocking for secret santa (Taken with instagram)

motherjones:

Same wardrobe consultant?

This is bananas (Taken with instagram)

Those damn towers popped up out of nowhere (Taken with instagram)

I can’t sleep at night. I have insomnia. I have anxiety. I’ve tried everything, well a lot of things. And I can’t get sleep. I Googled my name and this horse shit came up. Then I thought, “what the fuck if some one Googles my name they are going to find this horse shit.” I was going to delete it and then I wrote some more horse shit.

Ghost (Taken with instagram)