For my records:
The day I got my SAT scores back so that I could apply for a Pell Grant, I also passed positive on a pregnancy test. So I put the schoolin off, well, the academic kind at least. 3 years later by the end of my first and only fall semester in a community college I won a writing contest, subsequently conceived and became heavy with a girlchild. I can only come to the obvious conclusion that college makes me pregnant. I haven't returned because I'm not ready for another child, just yet. But I guess it's for the best since, you know I don't want to get too drunk with power, or so awesome you can barely stand to look at me.
Scrub, spin, pop:
Other than my life being threatened in a cemetery by a drunk gang member, the holiday weekend was nice. I dis and reassembled my old and first Nintendo Entertainment System excavated from the attic of my childhood home. I cleaned the corrosion and repaired the 72 pin connector, bending the leads back into their former position, dusted the motherboard with canned air, scrubbed the solder joints. After some jiggling and resetting it works like a charm. My job has corrupted me into a flathead screwdriver wielding nerd. However, I am terribly proud of myself. My son and I played Super Mario Bros. for 3 hours.
Prepare to die, you spastic pegaturtle:
I am a frantic scream and cusser at video games. If you shrink me I become vengeful, sometimes killing myself in attempts to squash the mushroom jerk who bit my ankle. I hate the cloud fucker who drops barbed turtles onto me, the cross-eyed fish and their cousins the cross-eyed birds careening about like assholes LOOK, I just want my goddamned coins. Carry yr smilin ass up out my grill. My son laughs and laughs at my dismay, but I know the secret path through the bricks to warp to level five, so who's laughin now?
Thanks for raisin me, bro:
Forgot that I drunk dialed my own mother last weekend until I got her response message yesterday to say that she loved me too, and that she is proud of me and it sounded like I'd "had a few." This is how pathetic I am.
And justice for all:
The Lady Liberty celebration was lovely, shady and breezy outside, many of my favorite women in one place, and new favorites to be made (12 photos here). Erin Livingston, the organizer, is such a spirited and bright-hearted girl. I admire her ambition and fervor. I brought my daughter to see what fearless loudmouth ladies do. The Texas Roller Derby Girls played a raucous and rough game of musical chairs that had me belly laughing. I wish I was tough enough to play with them. But surely they would snap me like a toothpick. I stick to repairing my small electronics.
The worst tenor in London:
I have to say it bothers me how nobody gave a toot about Sweeney Todd until Johnny Ass Depp starred in the film adaptation. Sorry to break it to you but, as talented as he is an actor, neither he nor his co-star can sing worth a damn. And Sondheim wrote those notes to be filled to brim. Depp simply yells them. As well, he is NOT frightening, nor convincing as an ex-con. But flipping the coin, Benjamin Barker's broadway predecessors COULD act as well as sing. Hearn and Cariou were much more chilling, booming and arresting baritones. Stick that gently in yr meatpie.
One life you got to do what you should:
Until recently, I always thought the line in the song One by U2 was "I can't be holdin on, to what you got, when all you got is love." Possibly I am trying to tell myself that Love isn't The Most Important Thing In Life, though it's what I've wished for on stars, and eyelashes, digital clocks, candles and dandelions since I learned about it. My ideal of it anyway.