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10.06.2003 - 2:59 p.m.


Oh boy, it’s been an exciting weekend. So much to tell! Can't find words! Must communicate by interpretive dance!


Saturday JB and I went to the post office but there was such a huge line we decided to come back later and when we did it was closed. D’oh! I drove through the world’s most ridiculous traffic just to get to the Bellevue Square Mall where I purchased many stinky candles from the stinky candle store and also a scary haunted tree candle holder thing because hey, it’s almost Halloween. We holed up on the couch in the afternoon watching some Everest documentary which was amazing and scary and goddamn people who climb that high are nuts.

Later, there were Boboli pizzas.

Sunday we drove to Fred Meyer’s in search of a ready-made frame to fit a 29" x 22" print but left with – inexplicably - an extendable wool duster. I dragged JB through a craft store looking for more frame sizes, and he became very fidgety and restless and by the time we paid for my item (not the frame, which apparently does not exist in 29" x 22" format) he was staring in open horror at a woman buying a large decorative scarecrow.

Then, there was pho. A LOT of pho. Wow, so much pho.

JB recovered from his craft store experience by playing Ghost Recon, which is a game that involves shooting lots of things. The accompanying audio includes guys yelling militarily at each other ("Scratch another one!" "Bet they baked us a cake!" [whuh?] "GRENADE!!") as well as a loud, intermittent soundtrack that sounds like DUM! DUM DUM DUM DUM! Da-DUM! DUM DUM DUM DUM! It is a zesty game that is quite fun to listen to, especially if you are trying to hear yourself think!


I am going to HELL (sans handbasket) - when I saw in the paper Saturday about Roy getting mauled by the tiger, I said to JB "Oh my god, that’s the most awesome thing, ever."


Last night I helped JB disable the seatbelt reminder alarm in the BAMT. Although I am a big fan of wearing seatbelts (except when they crunkle your shirt right over the House That Pacifico Beer Built), JB convinced me that he simply had to turn off the alarm because what if he was driving real slow spotting for elk and you know, wasn't wearing the seatbelt, and the alarm scared off the elk? What kind of hunter would he be then?

I know. It made more sense at the time, is all I'm saying.

So we followed the directions in the BAMT manual for disabling the alarm, which were incredibly long and complex and frankly quite odd. They went something like:

- Put the BAMT in park, engage the parking brake, make sure everything is turned off.
- Turn the BAMT to "on" but DO NOT START IT (penalty: death!).
- Wait until the seatbelt warning light goes off (twenty-two years).
- (You now have less than 60 seconds to complete the following)
- Buckle then unbuckle the seatbelt forty three times ending with the seatbelt unbuckled.
- Turn on the headlights. Turn off the headlights.
- Buckle then unbuckle the seatbelt ninety seven times ending with a small caesar salad.
- Tune the radio station to 106.1 and wait for the song "Ignition" by R. Kelly.
- When the seatbelt warning light blinks once, you have less than .000003 seconds to buckle then unbuckle the seatbelt once.
- Congratulations! You are now insane.

It was a robust and engaging process, with me reading the instructions to JB until I was frothing at the mouth, and JB frantically buckling and unbuckling away. Sadly for the elk, we eventually got it figured out.


I leave you with the coolest website in the whole world: Girls Are Pretty.

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JournalCon 2003

6 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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