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 :::
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
03.11.2002 - Anything
that makes your butt muscles hurt that much has got to be good
for you, right?
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