I can track a single bee to the hive ... 8-10-2004

When I was a kid the Ross family didn’t have a whole lotta toast. So a nice dinner to us was going to Sizzler. My grandparents would take RR (btw, RR is pronounced "Double R") and me out to dinner sometimes. When they would take us out, they would let us pick where we wanted to go. So when left to choose, we picked Sizzler. I was a huge, huge fan of the All-You-Can-Eat-Shrimp (some things never change), so I would always order that and put down about 6-8 plateloads of it. For some reason, I thought it was cool/tough to eat the whole shrimps, tail and all. So one time the grandparents took us to Sizzler and I overate (All-You-Can-Eat-Shrimps) bigtime (some things never change). I put down 8 plates, tails and all (I was about 12 years old). Then, walking back to their car in the parking lot, I started feeling fuller than ever before. Then I got sick and threw up everywhere. And those tails, on the way back up, ripped the living shit out of my poor adolescent throat. That was the last time I ever ate the tails of the shrimps.

The really awful things that happen to me take a while before I am really ready to write about them: A few months ago I was at home, lamping, hungry. It was time for a tuna sangy, but I had just finished my mayo. I looked in the fridge and saw that a housemate apparently had mayonnaise as well. So I went ahead and prepared the tuna sangy, liberating a small amount of her "mayo." When the co-mingling of tuna and mayo (and other items) process was complete, I made the sangy, forking the tuna onto the bread. Then, as per custom, I licked the fork while it was on its way to the sink. Ew. Soooo tangy. What the fuck? I knew something was rotten in Denmark (Shakespeare quote, btw). So I opened the refrigerator and looked for the roommate's mayo. Sure enough, the crazy broad had Miracle Whip, not mayo. I don’t that I'd ever really rocked Miracle Whip before, but my little forked pretaste had been far from satisfactory. But I was starving. So I sucked it up and ate the sangy, then I had a tummy ache for like 3 hours (the cause of the tummy ache, psychosomatic? I don’t know. But the tummy ache was real).

The 3 major elements of a book's enjoyment level: the writing, the plot, and the character development. A high level in 2 out of 3 makes for a pretty quality book.

Right before I left for LA I left my sunglasses at Club Sunset. I was about to be jonesing bigtime. So I called Brian and asked if there was anyway he could drop them off the next morning on his way to work (at the American Academy of Ophthalmology). He said sure. When I emailed him later, I wrote: "Thanks a zillion for bringing those sunglasses by. You saved my eyeballs. You are a valuable member of the ophthalmological community. Get it?

Still in LA: RR, ma, and I were all hanging out in the living room and ma was watching some reality show (no comment). When it ended, she picked up the remote and put on Elimidate. I was pretty impressed. She knows us so well.

On the episode we watched, this one girl kept yelling at this other girl. The other girl was trying to stay chill, but finally snapped and said: "I'm not gonna sit around and play guitar while you sing." I thought that was a really good one. I'm gonna start using that.

I don’t trust too many restaurants these days that their salmon is wild and not farm raised. I feel like I'm trying to be the human polygraph when I ask the waiter. They always say that the salmon is wild, of course, but you know they are full of shit half the time, and don’t actually know a quarter of the time. So I ask them and then try to read their expression. PS They say that you should only eat farm-raised salmon once every 1-6 months depending on where the salmon was farmed. Which poses another question that I couldn’t even ask anyways; where is your farmed salmon from? (I can't ask cuz they just denied that it was farmed)

Pour a sip out for subject-verb agreement.

Trivia Question: What has 4 arms and 2 heads?

Since I am in LA, I have watched a few Dodger games. My thoughts on baseball: A) it is all about the old school style with the short pants and the stirrups (how do so few people rock the goodness?), B) even baseball players that are in shape look dumpy in tight pants and poofy jersey/shirts, C) teams such as the Pirates wear Stephen Baldwin-cut style sleeveless jerseys. That's fucking weird.

Paulie and Timmy versus Snaq: Just a few weeks after celebrating the departure of Snaq O'Neal, I have to deal with the fact that my 2nd and 3rd favorite teams have both traded away my favorite players. The Dodgers traded Paulie LoDuca and the Raiders released Timmy Brown. Fuckin weaksauce.

Heard on the TV (2 women conversing in the "women's aisle" at the supermarket): Do you ever worry about odor?

Trivia Answer: Screwface (you gotta say it with the Jamaican pronunciation though).

*Heart* does not=Love. Amber pointed it out explicitly, but I agree so I am stealing it for myself. When you see the heart, you gotta pronounce it as heart (as in, I Heart New York). PS Kevin just hooked me up with the dopest jacket, which says: "I Heart Drum Machines." And I do.

The things that you tell yourself will kill you in time.
-Elliot Smith

I used to have a 1970 Chevelle Malibu. It was dope. Primer gray. Steel. Beater. And the blessed bench seat. What it lacked for quite some time was a quality sound system. So what did I do? With the help of RR, I built a front seat speaker box to drop some little speakers in (6x9 holes already cut out in the back). Rigging it up ghetto style, we made the box out of cardboard though. That is one of the clowniest things of all time. The funniest part, though, is that the (cardboard) speaker box actually got stolen.

OK, so I am not a big fan of most bare feet. But since bare feet is (are) a reality I won't be escaping any time soon, I want to throw this epiphany I had out there: Glitter feet. It could be the next craze/sensation. Girls like to put glitter on their faces (ihihih) and boobies (heh), so why not put glitter on their feet? I think it could catch on.

When the fuck will I be able to just beam phone calls to other people? I can't believe we don’t have this technology readily available already. E.g., if I saw some cute girl at a bar (and assuming she has a cell phone, which I am sure she does), I should be able to aim my phone at her (and her phone) and press some button that locks my signal onto hers and allows me to call her. It could still hide her number and stuff, but I should be able to beam people. C'mon people, it's not like I'm lamenting our inability to colonize the freaking moon here.

I temporarily lost my keys a while back. I'd either lost them at The Irish Bank or on BART. I was praying that I lost them at The Bank, cuz I can't think of too many things that would be more revoltingly disgusting than sifting through a BART lost and found. Ew. PS You will be happy to know that they were lost at The Bank and recovered.

Potato bread=vegetable serving.

You know how when you see a blind person with a cane and the big glasses walking down the street, you get the hell out of the way for them? I was thinking that perhaps I should start rocking the cane and the big glasses, just for ease of transportation. Get the hell out of my way.

When I was 15 years old and I took driver's training, my instructor--an older dude--gave me some really high quality sage advice/strategy. He said that he and his friends would go to the Chippendales parking lot and drink and wait til 2:00 AM when it closed and then all the women would come pouring out, all horny and in heat. Then he would swoop down and spit game and they would be something to the effect of preheated and/or easy. If I am ever that desperate, I will totally try that.

I was drunk the other night and someone was pissing me off and I called them a fucking Deceptagon. Which I thought was cool.

What do cashew trees look like? Why doesn’t everybody have one? PS Did you know that peanuts grow underground?

They should have called SpikeTV "The Nuts Channel." That would have been cool.

When I was younger--say, 16 years old--I'd have never guessed that I would still masturbate as much as I do now, at 28.

Speaking of: Ken has a nice newish Toyota Camry. It lacks the passenger side mirror though. I asked him what happened and he said he has whacked it off twice in the last month. I said he's at least half right. Oi, get it?

My favorite part about lunch with Ken, Linda, RR, Nana and Poppi: Poppi asking the waiter (very earnestly), "Do you have any idea what you are doing?"

My second favorite part about said lunch: RR was trying to talk Ken into rocking the socklets, and I said, "Yeah, Ken. They will accentuate your calves." Linda, who had only been paying half attention, said, "What, implants?"

There is a website called myspace.com. Quite a few people rock it. I guess it is more or less a Friendster type of site. Ish. So RR has a page with all his "friends" he has made online, and we were looking at them. I found this one girl, whose name (for the site, I presume), is "Cuntrocker." There is a place on each person's homepage for them to supply a saying/quote for their motto. Cuntrocker's is: "I will use your flesh as a cumrag." All I can say is, wow.

Nothing sucks worse than shaving and not getting laid (or at least getting some).

by Justin