5.12.05
11:24
Thinking back to endless evenings at Philip’s old house in Heathrow Woods. All great memories. Speeding around the rotundas in the pitch blackness with “Firestarter” blaring from the gargantuan speakers in the Geo. Watching any number of terrible/excellent movies while eating chip combinations, angel food cake or whatever in various locations. Totally Hetero wrestling. Games of pool in which the Truth was discovered. Giles hitting his head on Phil’s pool while trying to throw me in. Eating kielbasa while discussing the Batman soundtrack. Playing the “Rub Burnt Cork On Leah’s Face” game with Phil and B.J. All of us playing Street Fighter II in a strobe light to see if it affected our game. Filming the “Lean On Me” video with Sunir while at the same time engaging in some heavy duty ass fucking…only with the door shut. Sleeping on the floor or at the foot of Phil’s bed with three other people. My father sitting out in the rain in his car screaming not-quite-loud-enough to be heard over the storm and becoming angry at Phil and I for not being able to do so. The massive pool party Phil orchestrated that included having two televisions and Playstations set up. Bulbous Melons, medieval replicas, the Gates of Hell, Damn Crazy Psycho Midgets…and brothers. Lots of brothers.
Those were indeed the good old days, and hopefully myself and Philip (maybe even Will when he gets tired of working hard for a living and “achieving things”) can find some new version of those blissful times. The important thing was the abundance of time that we had. There was no need for a “plan” for the evening because there was no rush. If we didn’t do something Friday, we would do it Saturday. And that was during the school year. Summer vacation was almost too much to handle.
I have a noted lack of wanderlust. This peeves, irks, vexes, perturbs and infuriates Christina at times. But what she doesn’t understand is that it isn’t where I am, it’s who I am with. That’s why going to upstate New York with Will and Phil is gold, sequestering myself in a shack in the desert with Will and Phil is gold, going to Wales with Phil, Will, Chris and whoever is gold. The People, man, the People. Phil, Will, B.J., Lisa, Jackie, Danielle, Casey, Maria, Katrina, Leah, Stephanie, Derek, Angie, Mark, Nick, Sunir, Nigel, Giles, Jenna, Allison, Marty, John, Dan, Brian, Walker, Hilary, Sid, Chris All of them played a part back then in making me see the importance of People. Unless I make that bomb I’m always talking about, I will die alone. I have accepted that and I’m fine with it, but if I’m going to die alone, then I’d prefer to live with friends.
12:56
I don’t know if you have all had McDonald’s Sausage, Egg and Cheese on a Biscuit or any of those nasty breakfast sandwiches, but I will assure of something: Any McDonald’s breakfast concoctions you get there are trash compared to a REAL Bacon Egg and Cheese on a Bagel that you get at a restaurant or Deli. My Deli makes a Sausage, Egg and Cheese on a Bagel that will make you soulgasm.
Also, does anyone else out there think that opening cartons of milk or juice is a bit vaginal? I mean you fold back these sets of flaps and then drink the sweetness within…maybe that’s why they are phasing out the old design for the ones with the screw on cap on them.
Also, there is .a spot in Central Park…not too far from here…where you can get the best GAWDDAMN…just kidding. It’s one of the most perfect spots in the park and soon (in two weeks or so) I will be sharing it with Phil. I was sitting there the other day and called to share the beauty with Will but he didn’t answer his phone, asleep on the job again, eh William? Heh heh. So I then called Phil and he pointed out to me that THIS was the peak of my life, it’s all downhill from here. To quote E: “Who’s to say?/These could be the good old days.” It’s true. People having a good time, a really great time hardly ever stop and say to themselves “Hm. This is the happiest I’ve been in recent memory. This could be one of my best memories from this period in my life in ten, twenty, fifty years.” Maybe we don’t do that because it makes us feel self-conscious in the moment, thus ruining it, or maybe it turns our minds to the uncertainty of the Future. Who can tell? All I know for sure on the matter is that those times in my life where I did stop for a moment and say to myself, “This…this is going to be huge” I have forgotten, whereas the times mentioned above just happened, I can recall them perfectly.
Also:
Beth – Space Ghost seasons I and II
Alan – Futurama season IV
Lauren – The Boondock Saints and Hunky Dory
Ray – Silent Hill 3
Sorry, just keeping track.
This weekend I might have people to see The Life Aquatic, in case you missed it in theatres.
And; any thoughts on how to drive out the Cunt Beneath would be greatly welcome. I’d like not to turn to infanticide…again.
Also: Did you know that both Luke Perry AND Method Man were in the fourth season of Oz? Meth was his usual fun self, but Luke Perry? Man, do I respect him now. I mean his acting was good and then, all of a sudden, he did a full-frontal nude scene. From the pretty boy bitch on whatever that show was to full fucking frontal on Oz. He’s got balls…and a lot of pubic hair.
Showing posts with label Reminiscing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Reminiscing. Show all posts
5.12.2005
4.29.2004
A Moment for Michelle
Now I know we all make a lot of fun of Canada, but much in the way Ginny redeems the whole nation of Britain for me after that useless spam-purse Melissa took away all the glamour, this here friend of mine does the same for Canada.
The first time I knew of Michelle was in my 9th grade Honors English class (taught by Mr. Jakubisin, a crazy nut in all respects of the word) on “poetry day” where that redneck fuckwad Matt Dukes brought in some Clint Black lyrics or something really stupid like that. I had brought in a clip from “The State”, namely “Fragments” and a recording of “This Poem Sucks” by Michael Myers from So I Married An Axe Murderer. There was this new girl in the back and when she rose to read her selection (James Whitcomb Riley’s “Little Orphant Annie”) I noticed that on the line “An’ the Gobble-uns ‘ll git you e’f you don’t watch out!” she said “out” as “oot”. At first I thought…”oot? What the hell is that?” And then I realized…”Whoa…she’s Canadian…cool.” At that point in my life I had yet to meet and Canadians and the fact that there was one in Orlando, Florida? It made no sense to me. Her and I got to know each other through the Debate (where the smart ones went) and had many misadventures with Seth and Aaron. Some which must be recounted now:
Once, on a Debate trip to some place, Michelle and Katie Reid came into my hotel room and smeared Marinara sauce (from our cheese calzones) all over the toilet in my bathroom in the hopes it would look like menstrual blood.
Another time when Michelle had just gotten her driver’s license and took me to Best Buy to pick some CD’s up and I kept screaming “WATCH OUT!” and the like to try and get us killed; later that same day I remember her entering a one way street from the wrong end and being very frightened.
I remember when her and Aaron and I played Truth or Dare and she made me kiss Aaron. Another time when her and Aaron and I played “What Body Part Am I Touching?” And yet another time when we all stayed up making a really shitty project for the school Physics Fair. Fucking worthless Lego, defying the god damn Laws of Physics.
There was the time her and I saw the X-Files movie and burst out laughing when the Well Dressed Man came into the room and said “I’m sorry I am late…my grandson broke his leg.”
Then there was the first time she visited me in NYC. I met her at the bus station (she had taken the 4 am to 7 am bus) and she told me she had upchucked Raman on the bus. She had a sad pride in the admission and it was priceless. The next time she visited NY she arrived with Aaron and we all had fun except for the fact that the pot use was ruining Aaron capacity to remember our wealth of in jokes and such.
That trip was the last time I saw Michelle and recently I looked her up on-line and found a picture of her at some conference, looking smarmy. I was about to call her when I found out that Aaron had just called her after a long period of time and I thought that would be too strange. So anyway, at this moment, Michelle is planning to get married to an ex-DJ named Blake. However…I happen to know this is a sham marriage. And Michelle did a very clever thing: she sent me the wedding web page letting me know the where and when so I can crash it. Excellent. Road trip anyone?
Here is her picture and don’t think that the red eyes are an effect of the camera, see Michelle is a vegetarian (who has started eating fish) so she has demons inside. That’s aboot that. Oh, and here is the "wedding" web page. www.blakeandmysh.ca Please send Ramen, Kraft Mac & Cheese and rat food.
The first time I knew of Michelle was in my 9th grade Honors English class (taught by Mr. Jakubisin, a crazy nut in all respects of the word) on “poetry day” where that redneck fuckwad Matt Dukes brought in some Clint Black lyrics or something really stupid like that. I had brought in a clip from “The State”, namely “Fragments” and a recording of “This Poem Sucks” by Michael Myers from So I Married An Axe Murderer. There was this new girl in the back and when she rose to read her selection (James Whitcomb Riley’s “Little Orphant Annie”) I noticed that on the line “An’ the Gobble-uns ‘ll git you e’f you don’t watch out!” she said “out” as “oot”. At first I thought…”oot? What the hell is that?” And then I realized…”Whoa…she’s Canadian…cool.” At that point in my life I had yet to meet and Canadians and the fact that there was one in Orlando, Florida? It made no sense to me. Her and I got to know each other through the Debate (where the smart ones went) and had many misadventures with Seth and Aaron. Some which must be recounted now:
Once, on a Debate trip to some place, Michelle and Katie Reid came into my hotel room and smeared Marinara sauce (from our cheese calzones) all over the toilet in my bathroom in the hopes it would look like menstrual blood.
Another time when Michelle had just gotten her driver’s license and took me to Best Buy to pick some CD’s up and I kept screaming “WATCH OUT!” and the like to try and get us killed; later that same day I remember her entering a one way street from the wrong end and being very frightened.
I remember when her and Aaron and I played Truth or Dare and she made me kiss Aaron. Another time when her and Aaron and I played “What Body Part Am I Touching?” And yet another time when we all stayed up making a really shitty project for the school Physics Fair. Fucking worthless Lego, defying the god damn Laws of Physics.
There was the time her and I saw the X-Files movie and burst out laughing when the Well Dressed Man came into the room and said “I’m sorry I am late…my grandson broke his leg.”
Then there was the first time she visited me in NYC. I met her at the bus station (she had taken the 4 am to 7 am bus) and she told me she had upchucked Raman on the bus. She had a sad pride in the admission and it was priceless. The next time she visited NY she arrived with Aaron and we all had fun except for the fact that the pot use was ruining Aaron capacity to remember our wealth of in jokes and such.
That trip was the last time I saw Michelle and recently I looked her up on-line and found a picture of her at some conference, looking smarmy. I was about to call her when I found out that Aaron had just called her after a long period of time and I thought that would be too strange. So anyway, at this moment, Michelle is planning to get married to an ex-DJ named Blake. However…I happen to know this is a sham marriage. And Michelle did a very clever thing: she sent me the wedding web page letting me know the where and when so I can crash it. Excellent. Road trip anyone?
Here is her picture and don’t think that the red eyes are an effect of the camera, see Michelle is a vegetarian (who has started eating fish) so she has demons inside. That’s aboot that. Oh, and here is the "wedding" web page. www.blakeandmysh.ca Please send Ramen, Kraft Mac & Cheese and rat food.
1.17.2004
elitism/The Golden Teat of the Goddess of Victory/A Very SpecialMessage for Christina
Two things for this frigid Saturday…the first, something that only a few of you will *dig*, the next, well there isn’t a whole lot of *digging* to do, so just *read* it.
So, first, the wonderful elitism I feel sometimes. This is owed, in part, to four things (technically, three people and one genetic occurrence): First, the elitism I feel being a fan of They Might Be Giants. I owe that to Dr. William Pomerantz. In 1998, he mentioned he was going to see a They Might Be Giants’ concert. I thought the name sounded familiar, and it did, from their little jaunt on Nickelodeon’s Tiny Toons where the creators of the show had animated two of their songs, “Istanbul, Not Constantinople” and “Particle Man” two of their most well-known tracks from their most well-known album, Flood. Will informed me that they were a band and had been since the early 80’s. I was interested and a week before their concert Will lent me all their CD’s. It was a lot of material to absorb, but when the concert rolled around (in March of ’98) I was rocked and enjoyed it thoroughly. Since then, I have been a rabid fan, sharing that rabidity with only Will, Jade, Matt and a few scarce others. Granted, I have spread the music of TMBG to quite a few people who have taken to it like ducks to bread, but never to the sick extent that I have taken it, which I suppose is a good thing. Anyway, back to the elitism. In my high school, there were only three fans of TMBG, Will, Aaron Gunn and me (through Will). Aside from that? None that were at their first concert in Florida 5 years. What does that say? Nothing. Simply that I was enjoying something that hardly any other people enjoyed or even knew about. I brought this sick love of TMBG to college with me. In my four years there, I found three more people that really enjoyed TMBG. High school was one thing, that was Florida and no one there like anything that isn’t Country music or deep fried, but here? In New York City? Wow. I am one of the select few that know about the sheer joy of They Might Be Giants’ music. And that makes me feel special. Makes me feel unique. Make s me feel elite. So Will was the first.
Will turned me on to a band that has a very small, very rabid fan base. But then this second person (who I actually met at a TMBG concert, making her a very special friend indeed) has turned me on to something quite a bit bigger than TMBG and quite a bit smaller. This special friend is called Jade. And she lives in the former island penal colony for pickpockets and thugs…Australia. She turned me on to the entire continent of Australia, which I truly hope to visit someday once I’ve wrapped myself in plastic to prevent being eaten/attacked/poisoned/stung by ten of the world’s ten most deadly spiders, seven of the world’s most deadly snakes, cute but poisonous duck-billed platypi, cute but violently moody koalas ( I still have the newspaper clipping that Jade sent me about how one jumped down from a tree, unprovoked, and tore a woman’s ear off), ugly but lethal crocodiles, bloodthirsty but bloodthirsty great white sharks and a slew of unevolved animals that would not hesitate to destroy me utterly. The other thing she turned me on to was a band called TISM. As far as I know, it is only known in Australia and to those Outsiders who have been to Australia. This band is beyond description. From what Jade has told me there are twelve members of the band or so and they always perform in masks so no one knows who they are. Their songs address such topics as pre-destination, apathy, the fact that when you’re 25-30 years old, you only have “40 years then death”, Hitler as a scatophile, the fact that you’re only five yards from a fuckwit (one of the best things to come out of Australia is the word “fuckwit” and, thankfully, it only sounds cool coming out of an Aussie), even if you’re the last person on Earth (“be there none left on Earth but you, one thing will still remain true)” and more fun stuff. Jade has been totally rocking from the moment I met her to this very second. Two years ago she found out my Birthday was on the 25th of January on the 20th and flew over for my Birthday pajama party. She also accompanied me to Harvard and Amherst to meet Phil and Will where I proceeded to lose her in Boston in February wearing only a skimpy “whore dress”. There was a night at Harvard that involved spiced rum and chesty-bonts of which we can never speak again and a champagne party at Amherst where nothing but silk touched my skin. In my senior year of college, Jade lived in my dorm for a whole month and became enraged when her vodka-filled watermelon was tapped without her being there, which is understandable. Jade has also introduced me to a plethora of Aussie goodies that many of you will never enjoy…again making me feel super-elite. And I lot of people have friends in other continents, but they all suck, especially when compared to Jade.
Then there’s Phil. He taught me the definition of “lovesexy”, “swarthy”, “ooterus” and then redefined them all. He also taught me it’s okay to be cruel as long as you look good. Also, he brought me to the Gates of Hell and back again safely. I chased him with a mace, he directed me in my best performance ever…as both Uma Thurman and her boyfriend, Richard Ratcliffe. He hit me in the face with a French Silk Pie, I served hors d'oeuvres at his New Year’s party and vomited Mimosas. Slap and tickle…pain and pleasure. Phil was willing to send all of us to jail just to spite one fat little man who now has a faggy little goatee and the greatest work of film ever created.
Phil is the voice in my head that tells me to do bad things and Will is the voice that tells me how I can do them worse and vice versa. Being in their presences is, to quote Dr. Gonzo “OCH! Just OCH!”
And then the genetic occurrence…I’m really tall. The root of the word “elite” is the Latin “eligere”, meaning “to pick out, to choose”. My height enables me to be “picked out” of a crowd easily. Now the Latin root of my name “paulus” means “small”, making my very self a contradiction. To quote Walt Whitman, “Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes).” Again, a reference to my immensity. Also, I believe that I am a demigod and the next step in human evolution. So between Will, Jade, my own dementia, various other elite aspects of my life, my support from Walt Whitman and the Romans and the fact that They Might Be Giants are having a concert on my Birthday this year…I really shouldn’t be in touch with any of you but I suppose I must build a strong base of friends so I can climb your bloated corpses to the top after the world has evolved and only myself a few tall demigods are left.
And now, The Golden Teat of the Goddess of Victory.
After writing all that shit that’s meaningless to most everyone but Phil, Will and Jade I’m just going to jump right to the point. Almost exactly 23 years ago…a demigod was born. I was that demigod. A few days ago, I had an audition for a Nike short film (which, in the business means a long commercial basically). The day after that, I was brought back in for a call back. I met the director, took some direction and shot the shit (as it’s called in the business). The day after that, I was told that I had been booked for the short film (booked is another ‘in this business’ term). This project shoots tomorrow, a week from my Birthday. I’ll find out more about where you can see this, but hopefully I won’t need to, you’ll just see me before the next Harry Potter movie on the big screen, being as beautiful as a bean can be. I am now Baby Kermit the Frog and Chuck in the Nike short film “Speed”. My assumption is that this is either going to be on the Net at Nike’s web site like the now-famous BMW films or, as I inferred, before movies in the theatre. Hopefully the latter because the residuals would be SO sexy. That’s about it.
And now a final chapter in this entry:
While I was updating my journal, my girlfriend, Christina came in and asked what I was doing. I told her I was updating my journal. She asked if she was in it. I said no. She said she was NEVER in it. So, unlike some sort of Lucy/Ricky thing where she will dress as a character in the alphabet so I will input her into my journal, I’ll end this right now. CHRISTINA IS GREAT. SHE HAS A PROFOUND EFFECT ON ALL ASPECTS OF MY LIFE. SHE IS WARM AND FUN AND IF SHE EVER INSERTS HERSELF INTO MY JOURNAL LIKE THIS AGAIN, I WILL MENTION HER ONE MORE TIME TO SAY GOOD BYE. There you go, Cum Bunny. That’s all people, nothing else to see here, go on home.
P.S. Out of curiosity, I spell checked “fuckwit” and the two suggestions were “bucket” and “folkway”. I feel that both of these words should, from this point, be used as insults.
P.S.S. If any one would like to go to the TMBG concert with me and most likely Chris and Gia, buy a ticket for the 9:30 show. For more info, go to http://www.joespub.com/joespub/pub_nowplaying.html and then go to January 25th on the calendar.
So, first, the wonderful elitism I feel sometimes. This is owed, in part, to four things (technically, three people and one genetic occurrence): First, the elitism I feel being a fan of They Might Be Giants. I owe that to Dr. William Pomerantz. In 1998, he mentioned he was going to see a They Might Be Giants’ concert. I thought the name sounded familiar, and it did, from their little jaunt on Nickelodeon’s Tiny Toons where the creators of the show had animated two of their songs, “Istanbul, Not Constantinople” and “Particle Man” two of their most well-known tracks from their most well-known album, Flood. Will informed me that they were a band and had been since the early 80’s. I was interested and a week before their concert Will lent me all their CD’s. It was a lot of material to absorb, but when the concert rolled around (in March of ’98) I was rocked and enjoyed it thoroughly. Since then, I have been a rabid fan, sharing that rabidity with only Will, Jade, Matt and a few scarce others. Granted, I have spread the music of TMBG to quite a few people who have taken to it like ducks to bread, but never to the sick extent that I have taken it, which I suppose is a good thing. Anyway, back to the elitism. In my high school, there were only three fans of TMBG, Will, Aaron Gunn and me (through Will). Aside from that? None that were at their first concert in Florida 5 years. What does that say? Nothing. Simply that I was enjoying something that hardly any other people enjoyed or even knew about. I brought this sick love of TMBG to college with me. In my four years there, I found three more people that really enjoyed TMBG. High school was one thing, that was Florida and no one there like anything that isn’t Country music or deep fried, but here? In New York City? Wow. I am one of the select few that know about the sheer joy of They Might Be Giants’ music. And that makes me feel special. Makes me feel unique. Make s me feel elite. So Will was the first.
Will turned me on to a band that has a very small, very rabid fan base. But then this second person (who I actually met at a TMBG concert, making her a very special friend indeed) has turned me on to something quite a bit bigger than TMBG and quite a bit smaller. This special friend is called Jade. And she lives in the former island penal colony for pickpockets and thugs…Australia. She turned me on to the entire continent of Australia, which I truly hope to visit someday once I’ve wrapped myself in plastic to prevent being eaten/attacked/poisoned/stung by ten of the world’s ten most deadly spiders, seven of the world’s most deadly snakes, cute but poisonous duck-billed platypi, cute but violently moody koalas ( I still have the newspaper clipping that Jade sent me about how one jumped down from a tree, unprovoked, and tore a woman’s ear off), ugly but lethal crocodiles, bloodthirsty but bloodthirsty great white sharks and a slew of unevolved animals that would not hesitate to destroy me utterly. The other thing she turned me on to was a band called TISM. As far as I know, it is only known in Australia and to those Outsiders who have been to Australia. This band is beyond description. From what Jade has told me there are twelve members of the band or so and they always perform in masks so no one knows who they are. Their songs address such topics as pre-destination, apathy, the fact that when you’re 25-30 years old, you only have “40 years then death”, Hitler as a scatophile, the fact that you’re only five yards from a fuckwit (one of the best things to come out of Australia is the word “fuckwit” and, thankfully, it only sounds cool coming out of an Aussie), even if you’re the last person on Earth (“be there none left on Earth but you, one thing will still remain true)” and more fun stuff. Jade has been totally rocking from the moment I met her to this very second. Two years ago she found out my Birthday was on the 25th of January on the 20th and flew over for my Birthday pajama party. She also accompanied me to Harvard and Amherst to meet Phil and Will where I proceeded to lose her in Boston in February wearing only a skimpy “whore dress”. There was a night at Harvard that involved spiced rum and chesty-bonts of which we can never speak again and a champagne party at Amherst where nothing but silk touched my skin. In my senior year of college, Jade lived in my dorm for a whole month and became enraged when her vodka-filled watermelon was tapped without her being there, which is understandable. Jade has also introduced me to a plethora of Aussie goodies that many of you will never enjoy…again making me feel super-elite. And I lot of people have friends in other continents, but they all suck, especially when compared to Jade.
Then there’s Phil. He taught me the definition of “lovesexy”, “swarthy”, “ooterus” and then redefined them all. He also taught me it’s okay to be cruel as long as you look good. Also, he brought me to the Gates of Hell and back again safely. I chased him with a mace, he directed me in my best performance ever…as both Uma Thurman and her boyfriend, Richard Ratcliffe. He hit me in the face with a French Silk Pie, I served hors d'oeuvres at his New Year’s party and vomited Mimosas. Slap and tickle…pain and pleasure. Phil was willing to send all of us to jail just to spite one fat little man who now has a faggy little goatee and the greatest work of film ever created.
Phil is the voice in my head that tells me to do bad things and Will is the voice that tells me how I can do them worse and vice versa. Being in their presences is, to quote Dr. Gonzo “OCH! Just OCH!”
And then the genetic occurrence…I’m really tall. The root of the word “elite” is the Latin “eligere”, meaning “to pick out, to choose”. My height enables me to be “picked out” of a crowd easily. Now the Latin root of my name “paulus” means “small”, making my very self a contradiction. To quote Walt Whitman, “Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes).” Again, a reference to my immensity. Also, I believe that I am a demigod and the next step in human evolution. So between Will, Jade, my own dementia, various other elite aspects of my life, my support from Walt Whitman and the Romans and the fact that They Might Be Giants are having a concert on my Birthday this year…I really shouldn’t be in touch with any of you but I suppose I must build a strong base of friends so I can climb your bloated corpses to the top after the world has evolved and only myself a few tall demigods are left.
And now, The Golden Teat of the Goddess of Victory.
After writing all that shit that’s meaningless to most everyone but Phil, Will and Jade I’m just going to jump right to the point. Almost exactly 23 years ago…a demigod was born. I was that demigod. A few days ago, I had an audition for a Nike short film (which, in the business means a long commercial basically). The day after that, I was brought back in for a call back. I met the director, took some direction and shot the shit (as it’s called in the business). The day after that, I was told that I had been booked for the short film (booked is another ‘in this business’ term). This project shoots tomorrow, a week from my Birthday. I’ll find out more about where you can see this, but hopefully I won’t need to, you’ll just see me before the next Harry Potter movie on the big screen, being as beautiful as a bean can be. I am now Baby Kermit the Frog and Chuck in the Nike short film “Speed”. My assumption is that this is either going to be on the Net at Nike’s web site like the now-famous BMW films or, as I inferred, before movies in the theatre. Hopefully the latter because the residuals would be SO sexy. That’s about it.
And now a final chapter in this entry:
While I was updating my journal, my girlfriend, Christina came in and asked what I was doing. I told her I was updating my journal. She asked if she was in it. I said no. She said she was NEVER in it. So, unlike some sort of Lucy/Ricky thing where she will dress as a character in the alphabet so I will input her into my journal, I’ll end this right now. CHRISTINA IS GREAT. SHE HAS A PROFOUND EFFECT ON ALL ASPECTS OF MY LIFE. SHE IS WARM AND FUN AND IF SHE EVER INSERTS HERSELF INTO MY JOURNAL LIKE THIS AGAIN, I WILL MENTION HER ONE MORE TIME TO SAY GOOD BYE. There you go, Cum Bunny. That’s all people, nothing else to see here, go on home.
P.S. Out of curiosity, I spell checked “fuckwit” and the two suggestions were “bucket” and “folkway”. I feel that both of these words should, from this point, be used as insults.
P.S.S. If any one would like to go to the TMBG concert with me and most likely Chris and Gia, buy a ticket for the 9:30 show. For more info, go to http://www.joespub.com/joespub/pub_nowplaying.html and then go to January 25th on the calendar.
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