2003-10-26 - 2:46 p.m.

I don't know what's more odd - another entry so quick on the heels of the last one, or that it's on a Sunday. Hmmm . . . I say motorcycle, because telephone poles don't have doors. Oh. My sides have split. Jeezum Crow, I hope it's not gonna be one of those kind of entries.

"Right. One of those kind of entries!"

I suppose I should start by saying that I ate Hayley's bagel after she decided it was too burnt to eat. I don't much go for burnt bagels myself, but Hayley was just being too picky and was (understandably) frightened over the prospect of going back to The Good Bread and kicking some shit up. You know the way it goes. Man . . . that makes me miss my shit kickers. I LOVED those boots. Everyone else that winter in high school went out and bought brand new boots, in that particularly pleasing shit-kicking style, while i just grabbed my dad's old ones out of the garage. I think there was even a small hole in the toe. That hole built character. What was I even talking about? Oh, the bagel. Right. It had cream cheese. It was good. Since I brought up Hal-Y, I suppose I must now mention Shannon, one of the newest Wallakers employees. Shannon lives with Al-Y. They all be Vegans. Anyway. Shannon wanted me to talk meanly about her in my online journal and spread horrible stories. I told her I'm sure I would . . . in time. But I didn't have enough on her yet to say much. I will say that she knits a mean quilt . . . or sweater . . . or scarf, or whatever the fuck she's been knitting or macrameing lately. It reminds of the scene in Wet Hot and it always makes me say, "The Library Henry! The LIBRARY!" Oh Wet Hot American Summer, I love you.

This last Friday, after Ben took several showers in an effort to make himself squeaky clean for Portsmouth, he, Brooke, and myself went over to Jeff and Amy's. Ben had been there before, but Brooke and I had not. It was really nice and even has the plus of being outfitted with some furniture by way of the Cacklin' Crow. I know, anyone should be so lucky. Wait, was it actually Cacklin' Crow, or Cackling? People. I need to know. That is what a comment section is for - settling disputes such as these (not to say that introspection on E. Castro's FUPA isn't welcome . . .) Anyway, Albert, Lemos, and Lemos' girlfriend, the ever-elusive Helen were already there. We watched the Walker-less Celtics beat the "Half-Our-Team-Isn't-Even-Playing" Nets. Still, Jason Kidd looks just as much the disfigured Morlock on the bench as he does on the court. No sign of his wife Jowhorea. In a pleasant departure from the norm, Ben was the designated driver, which, despite the fact that I had to work the next day, opened up the possibility of me getting tanked. And tanked I got. Although I didn't quite realize at the time. But I noticed when I got up, sick as a dog, at six the next morning, laying in bed for the next 2 and half hours doing the ol' "I swear to fuck if I survive this I'll never drink again" routine in my head, that I must have been drunker than I thought the night before. We spent much of the night drinking at Jeff and Amy's (and inspecting the footprints in the yard left over from Jeff's "heroics" the weekend before), and spent the last half of the night at Quigley's. The last time we were at Quigley's , we were bidding Jimbo a fond farewell and rooting for the Mariner's to lose so we'd secure the wildcard. Sigh. How things change. Well, in this case, the drunk stumbling out of the bar was me and not Ben, and I was the idiot starting fights from the back seat this time, not Ben. So you know, sometimes things don't change that much.

"And sometimes I run! SOMETIMES I RUN LIKE THE WIND! Mwa-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!" - Ryu

Oh that Ryu. Shouldn't he be stabbing someone somewhere? Or killing children for opening windows. He's been so unpredictable since Irene died. Do you blame him? I don't. Speaking of ninjas with mysterious agendas, it was Daylight Savings Time last night, which was great, as it gave me an extra hour on a Sunday morning to clean my room! Hooray! [It's official. Unless I was just being sarcastic, assume I have been killed and taken over by my evil clone . . . or evil clown. Same thing] But yeah, as I was cleaning my room I kept coming across more and more depressing things. Not including the broken computer monitor that I don't have the money to replace thanks to a certain $800 fuel pump. No, mostly it was old Boston Globe Sports pages. Pages with such headlines as, "Boston's Magic # is 2!", "Boston clinches it!", "Boston forces another game!", "Johnny Damon Only Has Eyes For You!", and "One For The Ages: Pedro VS Clemens!" Sigh. I've just now, more than two weeks later, started to read the papers again and checking out espn.com. It was too painful for a while. But let's just hope the Pats and Celts help in soothing that wound. At the bottom of the pile of junk in my room was a dirty, wrinkled red t-shirt. It said "Damon" on the back, but it had my heart on its sleeves.

Oh man, did you read those last 2 sentences? CLASSIC. I love them. If I weren't already getting married to so many other inanimate objects, those two sentences would be first in line. Another thing that cheers me up is the Talking Heads box set that's coming out next month. Plus, the new stripped down version of Let It Be is being released on the same day too! Both on 11/18. Who'da thunk my two favorite bands with kinda-new projects from both on the the same day! Sweet. Now if only Luka and Abby would get back together . . .

Facts are simple and facts are straight

Facts are lazy and facts are late

Facts all come with points of view

Facts don't do what I want them to

Facts just twist the truth around

Facts are living turned inside out

Facts are getting the best of them

Facts are nothing on the face of things

Facts don't stain the furniture

Facts go out and slam the door

Facts are written all over your face

Facts continue to change their shape

Is it all true? Has Wonks really left the building? Sadly, it's true. Wonky, or "Wonks" to her friends, has left CVS for sunnier pastures in Florida. She will leave a big void that Wobbly, or "Wobs" to her friends, won't be able to fill by herself. God knows how the power structure will shift at CVS now that Vampy and Sterny will be inheriting more power. Ah. My life is so sad and boring that the power struggles at the CVS across the hall keep my fire burning. Sigh.

Did I mention that I was talking to Molly a lot lately? I know - weird, you don't have to tell me twice. But she's been on IM a lot lately and it seems that we keep being on at the same time. She says that her and Dave may have a chance to move closer to the East Coast. Granted, she's talking about Pennsylvania. Which might as well be Rio, but I guess it is closer. I mention this because you'd think my recent communiques with Molly would have made me more prepared to have Arley sprung on me here at the Wallakers. You'd be 110% wrong. She came in to say hi, on the tip from Molly that I worked there, and I totally didn't recognize her. AT ALL. I think even if she'd had the last blueberry muffin in her hand I STILL wouldn't have been able to figure it out. Oh well. So that's my Arley story. Let's see you do better.

I still don't know what I'm gonna be for Halloween. Any suggestions? And no, I'm not gonna be Niacin. I'm pretty sure I already tapped the Vitamin-B zeitgeist with Riboflavin last year.

See? It's all coming back now.

Two things on TV remind me of Coty right now and I'm not sure why. #1 - The ads on ESPN with Tracey Morgan for the start of the NHL season. Specifically, the one where Tracey Morgan is sitting on the ice in all his hockey get-up and says, "I'm so hot I'm get melt all this here ice." and then motions to the ice he is sitting on. Now, Coty has NEVER said this phrase as far as I know, nor, as far as I know, is he black. But for some reason, my first thought, while laughing at this ad was, "Oh man . . . that's so Coty." What's even more inexplicable is that the second thing that reminds me of Coty is also another black person. In the new OutKast video, where Andre plays pretty much everyone in the video, they quickly show this family at home watching the "video" that we're watching a couple times. The family starts to really get into the song and one of the younger kids starts to dance all serious and groove like and keeps grabbing his collar as a move. And I just thought to myself, " . . . Coty." i don't know. Maybe I just have Armenia on the brain right now, I don't know. I think I just miss my far away in San Diego buddy. Oh man, I think I'm tearing up . . .

Oh, I don't think I mentioned in my last entry that I went to see Lost In Translation. GO SEE IT. I loved it, and Scarlett Johansen is my new Not-So-Secret Crush. Bill Murray will get an Oscar nomination for this. I promise you. And if he doesn't? I will mope. That always fixes things. And I still need to go see Kill Bill. Argh.

Oh well . . . I need to go return some hockey pants to Decathalon to Ben since he accidentally bought a boy's small size. I mean, I do that all that time when I buy hockey pants. Don't you?

It's been real,

Mr. Rubber Burner

ps - Yes, the Yankees lost it all last night. And yes, that made me slightly happier. And yes, it made Ben piss his bed in sadness. And yes, I convinced Ben that he actually peed his bed when in all honesty, I was the one who snuck in his room at 4 this morning and pissed all over it. And yes, I like peanut butter and honey sandwiches.

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