In dubious requiem. Amen.

My god, I might die of exhaustion today.

Which is another way of saying that I wish I were dead, because I hear the benefits package is unbeatable.

Foo… Didn’t fall asleep until about 6 AM, for some reason, and up at 7:30. Should have ignored the alarm clock. Should have driven to your house and crawled in bed next to you, just to spread the pain. Or maybe next to your sister, and spread something else.

Urggle.

Well, let’s see: last night went well, I suppose. Thank god I’m too tired to over-analyze today; I’d be in for a world of self-doubt and questioning, if not. But she was dressed up when I arrived at Dave’s – and as much as I try to think of poetic and flowery language to describe how amazing she looked, the best I can do is, “Wow.” And at one point, she changed into a t-shirt and jeans (and there’s an opportunity here to note that she has such a wonderfully artistic back, but in the interest of being gentleman-like, I’ll say nothing), and she STILL looked … well, Wow.

Yes, capitalization will amuse me today.

So, we went and grabbed some food (to wit: she ate. I continued to drink). We came back to Dave’s and witnessed debauchery and fooishness. Sorry: Debauchery and Foolishness. Went back to my place, watched TOP SECRET.

Note: TOP SECRET is a really bad idea for what to watch when you wish to impress… actually, just a really bad idea in general. But it does have a cow in German military boots.

And other notes that I should probably make elsewhere, but the rest of my life is on display for you three bored souls, so why not this, too? Why not, indeed?

She is incredibly bright. More than a few people don’t give her nearly enough credit, which is too bad. But I suspect that she will realize soon enough that this can be a Good Thing, used to her advantage.

Her ex-boyfriend is a moron. Which is easy for me to say — I say that about a lot of people, in fact. But to differentiate between other morons – for instance, morons that don’t see how beautiful and wonderful Neely or Wade are, or people that don’t realize that Eric is one of the most musical souls ever to exist – and this guy: my opinion of his Moronitude is not entirely based on knowing her. To restate: it’s not personal.

Part of the coincidence is that I’ve heard her story before, and realized it last night in yet another moment of “holy shit, this town’s too small.” And I thought he was a moron then, just from stories I heard in the air and from the mouths of little birdies.

Now I know much more of the story, and it’s been confirmed. He’s a Moron.

It doesn’t help his case that he let her slip away from him. It helps even less that he did all the things he did to her — totally inexcusable things, that I hope none of you would *ever* put up with.

Oh, and I dreamed I broke E’s kneecaps in Neely’s honor. But it turned out that, since I’ve never met E, I got confused and broke The Edge’s kneecaps. And Bono stood by and sang “Love is Blindness” while I did it, and poor Edge kept asking, “Who is this ‘O’ Neely’?”

Stupid guitarists.

My eyes are so far surpassing fresh that it boggles the mind of God. Give me proofs and documentation to devour, and souls to cleanse my palate.

The word for today is amusing confluence

No, that’s only one word. Get over it.

I am amused. I am amused at the ways of the universe, the ebb and flow of the rhythms of this strange, strange cosmos that I inhabit.

City Stages didn’t suck too badly this year, though I suspect that my feelings there are related to the lack of time I spent there. Lynam does not, in fact, suck, by the way.

And how can I not be fascinated by Christina? Especially given the … erm. Coincidence?

Yes. Coincidence. Let’s leave it at that.

Don’t want to spill all the amusement at once…

No more night time buddies. Andrew was seen off at Dave’s tonight, and in quite a memorable stupor. Memorable to everyone but him, of course… but I seem to think I might have photographic evidence.

Julie would be so amused… Heh.

I sense that, perhaps, I am on the verge of a turnaround.

Wishful thinking, perhaps, but I’m due.

The Dinner Party game

You get to make up a dinner party. 5 guests, plus a free religious figure and a personal friend. If you prefer, you can request dead people, and specify their age when they attend. And you have to do the seating chart order:

Jesus (post-crucifixion, pre-resurrection) (religious figure)
Roy Moore
Traci Lords
Al Franken
Ann Coulter
Warren Ellis
Me
Neely Harris (mental_floss editor and friend)

(Note that this is crafted with the idea of the bastard cousin of the Dinner Game — the Hot Tub Game — in mind. With this chart, we move directly from the desert and coffee course to the jacuzzi. Fun for everyone involved. Especially me and Neely.)

(And for Neely’s sake, Jesus is wearing a nice if subtle cologne)

The short path to AA

The Sneeze – Half zine. Half blog. Half not good with fractions.: “As stated in the book, yeast is definitely contraband, but for the sake of this culinary experiment we’ll just assume I gave the prison baker a hand-job.

But then the guy wouldn’t give me the yeast! SO I STABBED HIM WITH A PEN IN THE EYE AND TOOK IT! And I was all, ‘DON’T FUCK WITH STEVE!’

Yes. This is what we should assume.”

Billie Jean is not my cellmate

Michael Jackson, acquitted on 10 counts, the most notable of which is molestation.

I’m gonna go with our legal system on this one, and say that the man is innocent. Guilty of poor judgment calls, sure, but innocent of molestation.

That said, all these parents who let their children sleep over at Neverland should be laughed out of anywhere if they later accuse Jackson of anything. It’s not as though he’s the local Catholic priest or anything…

Er… poor comparison, I suppose. But still…

Carlos Mencia has a great bit about all of this. Anyone not easily offended should seek out his DVD.