How did I know when to get up this morning, you ask? Well, it wasn’t when my alarm went off, which normally would be the correct answer. Nor was it when my non-existent dog jumped up on the bed; or, my non-existent girlfriend rolled over on to me. No, it was when the very real jackhammer started going literally right outside my window!
Sometimes, you�ve just gotta laugh�
There are few things that say: Fresh Hip-Hop Flava and Supa Phat Beatz, yo more than uni-brows and jumpsuits (via Ann)
So the subject matter really isn’t funny; but, I think the headline is:
Study: boys who find guns will likely handle them
I am such a little kid.
From Widepipe:
I hate when the practical get in the way of the impractical. When the necessary gets in the way of the unnecessary. I thrive on the impractical and unnecessary. I would be too useful a being if it were any other way.
Words to live by…
Went to the Black & White Ball this weekend, which is basically a snazzified block party. I wore a hip suit, but many male Bay Areans were representing in tuxes. I also saw a lot of used prom dresses, bride’s maid attire, and all around well-heeled attire. There were dozens of live bands, free food and drinks from local gourmet restaurants, as well as a huge chunk of the masses of humanity present.
At any rate, it was a very fun time, despite the natural haughtiness of a black-tie affair. After all, there’s something deliciously dissonant in seeing the upper-bourgeois rocking-out to Kool & the Gang.
Mailmen(women/persons) must love traffic. They’re in the worst kind of self-imposed stop-n-go every single day, and don�t seem to mind a whit. I imagine that when they go to concerts, sporting events, gun shows, or whatever other high-traffic event with their friends, they are always the ones that drive. Their companions probably get to the point where they’re yelling at other cars, flipping people off, and banging their heads on the windows in complete frustration; all while the mailman(woman/person) remains calm and collected.
�You think this is bad?� they�ll say, �you should see the 700 block of Pine.�
There are two types of people in the world: those that open their straws by hitting them on the table, and those that tear off an end and blow off the paper.
Went to a SF giants game last night, which means absolutely nothing except that I totally rode the Coke slide.
Afterwards, there was much playing of NHL 2001 where I learned that I have not the spirit of the killer (which is in direct conflict with my general loathing of humanity). Let me give you the sitch:
We were at a friend of a friend’s house who is pretty much a hockey fanatic. I have only the basic guy-knowledge of hockey (not to mention baseball [which is actually pretty significant…you’d be surprised how much we’re forced to learn in the secret guy-meetings…but then I’ve already said too much]), but I am always willing to play video games. So, the friend of a friend had bought this game earlier that day, and had consequently not even opened it, yet. Consequently, there was a bit of an unveiling ceremony in her living room replete with angelic fanfare, sacrifices, and divine inspiration.
At any rate, we eventually started playing two on two: me and the friend vs. the friend of a friend and a friend of the friend of a friend (got it?). First game? 5-0 us. *ouch* I felt bad about this as, even though it’s just a game, the friend of a friend seemed pretty excited about it. Fast forward an hour, final game tallies: 5 games to 0, us. *ouch times two* I had even stopped shooting after the second game, and purposely passing the puck to the wrong side, but to no avail.
As we’re leaving, I turn to my friend and ask if she had had any compunctions about the thorough routing we’d just handed to her best friend. She blinked, and said, “uh, what?” meaning that it had never even occurred to her. I, however, was racked with guilt, proving once again that if I ever have to play Trivial Pursuit for my life, I�ll be taking a dive in more ways than one. I am such a sucker�
Date my sister…please! Be sure to tip your waitress, I’ll be here all week!
