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03.14.2002 - 10:40 a.m.

JB is coming home tomorrow! JB is coming home tomorrow! O frabjous day! It's about goddamn time!

What will probably happen is that he'll slump into this jet-lag coma and I'll have to tiptoe around the house, more bored than ever. "Hi," I'll whisper tenderly, "are you awake yet? How about now? Or maybe (sharp poke) NOW?"

JB is lucky. He can immediately zonk out on flights, long or short. It's like the engines start, and by some Pavlovian effect he just goes all boneless and starts snoring. Not me, man. I can never sleep. I flew with JB to China last December. From Vancouver to Hong Kong, it was about 14 hours, and I was awake every damn minute - despite reclining in what amounted to a Barcalounger, drinking 179 glasses of wine, and watching a series of utterly putrid movies. Everyone else in the cabin looked like they had been shot with tranquilizer darts about 5 minutes after we took off. Fuckers.


Boy, I watched me some crap television last night. Like Survivor, where the Dumbshit Tribe Who Can't Win Doody voted out the only guy who had half a chance at helping them not have to resort to eating each other. And Rob? The mouth-breather construction worker getting it on with Boobsy McFakeTits and pussing out on that one challenge by horking fish out his nose? He's a real Machiavellian character, isn't he? "Feah…" he tells the camera, "feah keeps people in line. I learnt that from da Godfatha." Oh my god.

Something I've noticed about Survivor is that someone behind the scenes is very carefully attending to the men's facial hair. They arrive clean shaven. And then somehow they only grow moustaches. Then, goatees. And then all of a sudden they have these rugged full beards going. Someone's gotta be bikini-waxing the hell out of those chicks, too. In their skimpy little outfits? You know it. "Wax on the set pronto...we've got major beaver happening here."

The other thing I gave in and watched was the celebrity boxing show. Which actually made me feel sort of bad about myself, like I had plummeted into the sort of demographic that buys lawn decorations and Shlitz beer. Anyway, I almost felt sorry for old Vanilla Ice there. I mean, he is now officially the biggest loser on the entire planet. Tough guy with his new thrash rock sound, getting beat up by the dork from 'Diff'rent Strokes'. Might as well just do the Vicodin overdose and get it over with, you know?


You know that sound you can make if you flick your cheek while your mouth is sorta shaped like you're going to say the letter "O", the water-drop bowhoop! sound? This morning the cat somehow made that exact sound, apropos of nothing at all. I turned to stare at her and she just gazed back, all heavy-lidded and smug. I don't know what it all means. But it.was.weird.

go back ::: forward

03.13.2002 - But today I must get to Lascha's house, 2,000 light years away.
03.12.2002 - maybe it's because I had to go to the eleventh circle of HELL this afternoon.
03.11.2002 - Anything that makes your butt muscles hurt that much has got to be good for you, right?

0 comments so far.

I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004

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