May 16th thru the 22nd, 2004

I fell asleep. Right here in my computer chair.

Dinner Time. (Now that I am cleaned up.) Sausage rolls, I think. Ooh, and brownies! And a salad, yes. And The Pillow Book. Peter Greenway is a very strange director. It's not that he's left an odd taste in my mouth as much as I wonder if I've seen a movie, and I should I, therefore, go rent another one to find out. Something like Legally Blonde 2, or Finding Nemo. Well, it takes all kinds, don't it? It sure do.

Worked, puttered around. Finally went to bowling. First game was a 109. It was weird, cause I was using no form to throw the ball down the alleyt during the warm-up and tossed 4 strikes out of 6 balls. Then when the game started, I couldn't toss a spare to save my life. Second gaem was a 150 and third was 151. I so need to practice. Stay tuned. But whatever-- we won 3 out of 4 points, thank in no small part to my teammates bowling way above their averages too.

Velvet came over and we photoshopped some photos from her dancing contest to a business card for her. We talked till, like, damn it, 5 in the morning. Which takes us, me, you readers and I, to Tuesday.

The rest of the day was playing with the Weird Al songs. I grabbed ALL the lyrics and slapped them onto the MP3s tag files, and sang along with most of them. Besides the polkas, which I just can't get enough of, my favorites are "Hardware Store", "Bob", and "It's All About the Pentiums". And "Alburqueque" (no matter how you @#$%^&* spell it) and "I'm a Genius in France."

Coffee at SBC, as usual. Just me and a dude who's a regular, who grew up in Wichita like me, and get this-- he used to hang out at the same bar as the parent's of the girl I dated in highschool, and knows them and everything! That's crazy, but there you go. Eventually some other folks showed, and we broked for dinner at Rositas. One of them is with me now (I am giving her a ride to the airport tomorrow so she's crashing here t'night) as I type this and we listen Weird Al. Yeah, multitasking-- I eat it for breakfast.

Work and what not. Eventually evening arrived, and so I decided to check-out Shorty's, a bar in Belltown (2222 2nd Ave!). I knew it was the place for me, for as I walked into the back area where all the pinball mahcines are, there stood a very tall, thin, pale, goth-punk girl in leather and piercings. She was with a boyfriend, so no fear I was going to hit on her, but the point is, I like the clinetelle. And unlike the Long Chiropractic Care Center, I can go there as often as I want and not need an injured backbone to do it. Anyway, I played each of the pinball machines once, and Medeivel Madness many times as I waited for Adam's Family Pinball to become available, and once it was, I played it many many times. My best game was 130 Million, my worst was 2 million. I'll be going back, so I'll talk more about it I'm sure.

Wandered through Queen Anne to get to Greenwood, and landed at the OK Corrall Barbeque joint. A dive of a place; they don't even have menus, or beverages. I ordered "The Hook Up," and took it home. Spicy! I'll have leftovers for a while, lord love 'em.

The day was the day and then it was the afternoon and then it was the nap and then it was a drive to the airport to fetch a friend, take her and her colleagues to the nearby hotel where they have a teacher's conference. Then back home for some Tony Hawk Underground in the X-Box, and then a nice shirt and back to get my friend and her colleagues again to have dinner at Wild Ginger in downtown, and then drop them off and home and more THUG.

Throughout the day, I had some philisophical thoughts; here's one: Prayer to an omniscient God is obviously not for the purpose of communicating to God, (since God already knows) but to oneself, and so, except for the winner, it's just like buying a lottery ticket, since the people buy the ticket as a reminder to themselves that they desire paradise. Why is this necessary? Prayer is a meditation, reminds people to survive life for something better later, and the lottery assuages drudgery so people don't go and shoot up the office. There. I've probably managed to offend anyone religious and anyone who's purchased a lottery ticket in one fell swoop.

Check out this website, sent to me by Squid Devil. It's inspirational material for we photoshop addicts:

I'm sitting here, listening to alt country, cause, well, I don't know why. I get so tired of the same-old same old. You gotta love these titles and lyrics. Earlier it was Junior Brown and his "You're Wanted by the Police and My Wife Thinks You're Dead," and later a song by Guy Clark called "Baby Took a Limo to Memphis," wherein he sings: "the shortest distance between two towns is in a limo with the windows down." THAT'S spiritual. Anyway, I just stumbled across a picture of Tine Fey, from the cover of the February issue of Bust magazine. Damn. She is hot hot hot. YOU decide if she's hotter because she's damn funny and damn smart. Think she like's alt-country? One can dream.

Look what my awesomest paralegal friend from DC sent me! She's therefor one a lifetime subscription to Bukk's adoration, complete with all the hugs and kisses she wants. There's a pad of post-its, some cheese, blow-bubbles in a guitar-shaped-jar, a fantasy-colors toy bowling pin set, a pad of sit-and solve puzzles, and the card, which is a picture of a "Goddess with Carpal Tunnel."

Went bowling. Had to. Managed a 144, 146, 181, and 147. Ate a cheeseburger.

Was supposed to go to Shorty's for some pinball action, but decided to visit a friend instead. Then went over to the Rendevous to see some stand-up comediennes. All good. All funny. Makes me want to write jokes. Maybe I will someday. "Are you self deprecating?" "Am I self deprecating? Does the pope tell me I'm going to hell for being so ugly?" Yeah, okay, I'll work on that one. After, I escorted an inebriated friend home, she received an out-of-town guest, and we went to Dilletante's. Then home. Then Tony Hawk for a few hours.