Wednesday, November 30, 2005

"Today Is The Day"

Today is the day to act like
Today is your day
And you will be surprised that it is,
That it is.

Now, if that grass looks fun to roll in,
Then roll in that fuckin' grass
Look at that bird, he can fly,
Don't you wish you could fly?

Well, today is the day to act like
Today is your day
And you will be surprised that it is,
That it is.

Turn up the sun, hotter, brighter
Make that yellow guy huge!
The bigger, the hotter, the wetter, the better it is.

Now, if that grass looks fun to roll in,
Then roll in that fuckin' grass
Look at that bird, he can fly,
Don't you wish you could fly?

Well, today is the day to act like
Today is your day
And you will be surprised that it is,
That it is.

Thank you, Apollo Sunshine!


Monday, November 28, 2005

And then I bought the Baby Jesus a pony

preparing to hop into the shower, I hear the Frisbee phone ringing

Me: Hello?

K (my boss): Frisbee? It's K.
M: Hi, K!
K: Um, hey, we've only got 12 on the books and it's storming tonight, so we won't need everyone. You're last on, do you mind not coming in?

Oh yes: happy dance.

Fever, broken

The best thing about being sick is how good you feel when it's over.

Tom yum gai, sriracha and jalapenos: healing tastiness in a bowl. May capsaicin abundantly spice your long and healthy life. Amen.

Sunday, November 27, 2005

Clearly, I taunted the Baby Jesus in a previous life

Viciously ridiculed him. Stole his Pudding Pop. Drew and quartered his precious Stretch Armstrong. Flushed his goldfish, Skippy, down the toilet. Made him eat Circus Peanuts. SOMETHING.

There's just no other explanation for feeling like this.

I would, however, like to thank Andy for his wonderful three hours of fun and "choonage" that helped take the edge off of this nasty bug earlier today. Andy, you're a gem!

Dog sick and dreaming of a White Christmas

Full-fever-ow-my-bones-hurt-who-turned-my-nose-into-an-alluvial-source? kind of sick upon waking and my faithful supplier of tom yum gai isn't open for another 5 hours at least. Eeesh.

I wanted to go out and play with the camera phone and the regular camera, but I think this is going to be a ''sleep through two movies on the couch, getting that practice run in for the the big sleep tonight" kind of days instead. Perhaps I can take artistic, fever dream pictures of the pile of tissues that's growing like a small colony of Tribbles.

In non-infirmary related news, Susie, one of my closest friends wants to fly me to Chicago for Christmas. [!!!!!!!!!] We met years ago when she was the sous chef at the Fish in Seattle and lived around the corner from me. It was years of sweating blood in the restaurant together, playing dj for one another, catching flicks, dissecting dishes, reading cookbooks, and scheming up weird new recipes, and it's a friendship I've dearly missed having in close physical proximity. To cap it off, one of her cooks will be on vacation, so I can get back in the kitchen with her. Huzzah!!

Saturday, November 26, 2005

"There'll Be Some Changes Made"

Thanksgiving marked the end of our Indian Summer here in SF. Last night, the skies opened up and it's been gusty and turbulent ever since.

Similarly, something else came to an end over the course of the last day. A sort of suspended animation that I had begun to suspect being more of a permanent state than a passing phase. And things seem brand new in a way that they haven't for long, long time. I'm sure this makes no sense and it's nothing specific so much as a subtle shift of something buried that's now ready to surface. Sometimes, it's the most ordinary things that make life truly remarkable. It's been a wonderful surprise and a long, deep sleep feels like the perfect way to celebrate.

With that....

Friday, November 25, 2005

In the light of day

Scratch that: it was one of the best Thanksgivings on record. I'd make this a tradition in a heartbeat.

Oh my!

We had so much fun we forgot to post.

It was a good Thanksgiving.

Thursday, November 24, 2005

Details from the front line:

- Work gave me a second turkey last night. You know, because just one the first time around wasn't enough. Who says hazing is a thing of the past?

- The kitchen is being systematically destroyed. CALA is open all day today and for that I would bequeath them my firstborn. Instead, they'll have to settle for seeing me on the hour, every hour.

- Bloody marys are proof of the existence of a benevolent God.

- I never knew that handling a 20 pound bird could be so *cough* suggestive. *blushes*

Wednesday, November 23, 2005

Oh dear....

This morning I decided to host my first Thanksgiving dinner.

I have lost my mind.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

3 things I have today that I didn't have 24 hours ago:

1. Cowboy boots. [!]
2. A camera phone. [!!]
3. A 20 pound turkey. [...]

I have never cooked a turkey before. It has never even crossed my mind to cook a turkey before. I'm praying that my Thanksgiving post does not include the phrase "hilarity ensues."

Sunday, November 20, 2005

Saturday, November 19, 2005

File under: "Pardon me?"

Me: Was there a problem with the foie gras?
She: No, I'm full, thank you. He doesn't like foie gras.
He: It's not that I don't like it, I just don't eat it. Every other day, I put two pieces in my front pockets and two pieces in my pits. Works like a charm on women.
Me: I'm sure it does, sir.
She: This is my brother. I am not married to this man.
He: But the Saran Wrap underwear doesn't hurt, either. The ladies do like those.
She: Shut up!
Me: I see.
He: Oh! Would you like to see?
She: I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry.

[I truly wish I could make this stuff up.]

Thursday, November 17, 2005

Well, huh!

I'm not sure I thought I could do a full year, but I'm glad that I have. So much so that I think I'll continue to do so.

Thank you to the friends who have been readers and commentors as well as the readers and commentors that have become friends. It's been fun sharing the twisty bits of my brain with you. I don't forsee this ever being a place for vast profundity or soaring brilliance or political savvy. As much as I admire those who want to write the next "Great American Novel" or be the Voice of a Generation and say Really Important Things, as much as I want to want to be driven to do and be those things, it's not what I want or who I am and there you have it.

This last year online, especially with this endeavor, publicly forming and exploring a 'voice' and ultimately pushing the process of defining an identity and a direction - both with writing and with life, though sometimes the two are hard to separate - has been fantastically distilling. And in the weirdest way (I'm sure this won't make sense to many people), it's been both gratifying and reassuring to go through the ongoing crucible of "figuring it out" that we call "life" and still find out that you are, in fact, you. Because that's the risk and that's the test of putting yourself out there, isn't it? Will you still recognize, respect and like yourself at the end of the day?

So, again, thanks to everyone who has stopped by and especially to those who have chosen to hang about: I've completely enjoyed every comment and email. And here's to another year!

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

Here we go again....

Mynxie started it and Mefi finished it. I've returned to that-which-I-said-I-would-no-longer-do and here are the results:

I used to be 'programming in QBASIC'; I blame six months of working at Burlingame Country Club and the Marina on this change.

You are 'French'. In the nineteenth century, it was the international language of diplomacy. It is a 'beautiful' language, meaning that it is really just a low-fidelity copy of Latin.

You know the importance of communicating 'diplomatically', which for you means both being polite and friendly when necessary and using sophisticated, vicious sarcasm when appropriate. Your life is guided by either existentialism or nihilism, depending on the weather. You have a certain appreciation for the finer things in life, which is a diplomatic way of saying that you are a disgusting hedonist. Your problem is that French has been obsolete for a long time.

What obsolete skill are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

Next, I have no idea what I'm supposedly 'liberated' from as I've never been repressed, but being that I have zero fascination with bondage, I imagine that it's consistent with a certain kind of rationale.

The Liberated Lover
68% partner focus, 61% aggressiveness, 90% adventurousness
Based on the results of this test, it is highly likely that:

You prefer your romance and love to wild and daring rather than typical
or boring, you would rather pursue than be pursued and, when it comes
to physical love, your satisfaction comes more from providing a
wonderful time to your partner than simply seeking your own.

This places you in the Lover Style of: The Liberated Lover.

The Liberated Lover is a wonderful Lover Style, and forms the
kind of free-thinking, sexually-exciting, self-confident lover that
society once condemned but that a liberal-mind cherishes and exults.
The Liberated Lover is a treasure to find, though it can sometimes be
difficult to do so because they are often already engaged in
relationships or are in high-demand if "in the market."

In terms of physical love, the Liberated Lover is possibly the
most thrilling and demanding of all, with the one potential drawback
being that it is possible to feel 'overmatched' at times by their
prowess and selfless giving. Given trust and understanding, and the
right lover, the Liberated Lover can be a delight in bed.

Best Compatibility can probably be found with: The Exotic Lover (most of all) or the Carnal Lover, or the Suave Lover.

Finally, I may have to muster the energy to be morally outraged or at least righteously indignant: Elmo?!?! You must be shitting me. The description fits for the most part (though I am real, do you hear me? Real, I tell you!! No fantasy world here, pal!), but Elmo is even further down the evolutionary ladder than Scrappy Doo.

I demand a reassignment of mascots.

You scored 39% Organization, 68% abstract, and 69% extroverted!
This test measured 3 variables.

First, this test measured how organized you are. Some muppets like Cookie Monster make big messes, while others like Bert are quite anal about things being clean.

Second, this test measured if you prefer a concrete or an abstract viewpoint. For the purposes of this test, concrete people are considered to gravitate more to mathematical and logical approaches, whereas abstract people are more the dreamers and artistic type.

Third, this test measured if you are more of an introvert or an extrovert.
By definition, an introvert concentrates more on herself and an
extrovert focuses more on others. In this test an introvert was
somebody that either tends to spend more time alone or thinks more
about herself.

You are mostly organized, more abstract, and more extroverted.

Most people either love or hate Elmo. I hope you love Elmo, because that's who you are.

You are both somewhat organized. You have a good
idea where you put things and you probably keep your place reasonably
clean. You aren't totally obsessed with neatness though. Elmo has the
same basic approach. His place is pretty tidy, but he doesn't spend all
of his time cleaning it up.

You both are abstract thinkers. You definitely are not afraid to take
chances in life. You only live once. You may notice others around you
playing it safe, but you are more concerned with not compromising your
desires, and getting everything you can out of life. This is a very
romantic approach to life, but hopefully you are also grounded enough
to get by. Elmo's whole life is based on fantasy and his imagination.
In the beginning he was a regular character, but now he spends most of
his time in this fantasy world.

You are both extroverts. Elmo likes to talk talk talk. He'll talk with
people, goldfish, tables, whatever. Without interaction with others he
gets very sad. You definitely enjoy the company of others, and you
don't have problems meeting new people... in fact you probably look
forward to it. You are willing to take charge when necessary or work as
part of a team.


Monday, November 14, 2005

Sweet, buttery Christ!

And cowboy boots. I joked about it earlier, but now I see that there was far more truth in the statement. WTH?

First, I do a 180 and move to San Francisco.

Then, I chop off my hair.

Next, I turn my back on the call of corporate life.

Then, I really chop my hair off (but only in the back this time and, oh yes, start playing with the colors.)

If that weren't enough, I start yearning for a dog.

And now I want cowboy boots.

This is not a midlife crisis, this is a previously unrealized teenage rebellion of near disassociative proportions.

I want a dog

There. I said it.

[I suppose there's a greater message here that my subconconcious is trying to convey, but hell if I know what it is.]

Friday, November 11, 2005

You Know You're From San Francisco When...

My roommate sent me a version of this list a few days ago. Usually, I'm put off by the preciousness and feigned exasperation of them, but this one is fairly spot on. As a matter of fact, it's apparently so San Francisco that all references to Burning Man were deemed unnecessary.

You've been carrying on an affair of "intense eye-contact" for two years with a person who rides home on the same bus and gets off one stop before you. You do not know their name.

You bitch constantly about how hard it is to meet people in the city.

You take the bus and are shocked to hear 2 people carrying on a conversation in English.
Your co-worker tells you they have eight body piercings - and none are visible.
Someone says "Tenderloin" - you don't think of steak.

You never bother looking at the MUNI line schedule because you know the drivers have never seen it.

A really great parking space can move you to tears.

You know that anyone wearing shorts in July is just visiting from Ohio.

You were born somewhere else.

You assume every company offers domestic partner benefits.

You experience "commitment issues" when deciding who to hang out with next weekend.

You feel prudish for never having had a threesome.

You're tan in spring and fall, pale in summer.

You'd like to spend more time exploring Berkeley, but its just so damn far away.

You found your current aparment, car, couch, running pals, bookgroup, girlfriend/boyfriend, and booty call all on Craigslist.

Your boss runs in "The Bay to Breakers"....and it's not the first time you have seen him/her nude.

You are thinking of taking an adult class but you can't decide between yoga, aroma therapy, conversational Mandarin or a building your own web site class.

You haven't been to Fisherman's Wharf since the first month you moved to SF and you couldn't figure out how to drive to Coit Tower if your life depended on it.

Left is right and right is wrong.

Your monthly house payments exceed your annual income.

You dive under a desk whenever a large truck goes by.

You can't find your other earring because your son is wearing it.

Your family tree contains "significant others."

Your cat has its own therapist.
You can't remember... Is pot still illegal?
You pack shorts and a T-shirt for skiing in the snow, and a sweater and a wetsuit for the beach.

Rainstorms or thunder are the lead story for the local news.

Gas costs $1.00 per gallon more than anywhere else in the US

A man gets on the bus in full leather regalia and crotchless chaps. You don't even notice.

Your car insurance costs as much as your rent.

When you drive under an underpass - for one moment you think "earthquake".

You realize the only Republicans you know are your Aunt and Uncle in Texas.

You go to your office manager's baby shower - the parent's are named Judy and Becky.

Your church elects a new Bishop who abandoned his family and two young daughters to fulfill his sexual urges with another man.
You make well over $100,000 and you still can't find a nice place to live.

You think anyone who drives a car to work is decadent.

You keep a list of companies to boycott.
You've lived in the Marina for three and a half years and you've been to the Mission once for drinks. You're main impression is that it's "dirty". You won't go back.

You've lived in the Mission for three and a half years and you've never been to the Marina.

You consider Tom Kha Gai or burritos staple foods.

You consider hamburgers a "rare treat".

You wear foam trucker caps and cowboy hats out regularly in San Francisco, but you wouldn't be caught dead wearing one in Stockton.

At any given time, you are carrying three or more tiny electronic devices, some of which emit noises and/or buzzing at different frequencies, and all of which "simplify" your life.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005

"because in space, no one can hear you scream" -or- Dreams so real

This was the line said to me by my closest friend in a dream last night. For reasons I have yet to discover, this was the line that triggered my shift from dreamy dream time to lucid dreaming. Though I don't know the individual IRL that spoke this line to me, I would like to extend my sincerest gratitude to him, his timing was perfect.

The dream was initially a bit confusing as I was in downtown LA with a bunch of people working on a movie. Our central location was on the top two floors of one of the tallest skyscrapers. I was on a landing in between floors when the building started to feel as though it was swaying. I looked out the window and could tell that the building was moving, though I couldn't tell if this was due to wind storm or earthquake. As I started to make my way back to the central room where my specific group of friends, coworkers and associates was gathered, the swaying became more intense and building staff started to direct groups of people to safer areas. A couple times, I was stopped by staff and managed to talk my way past them in order to return the room, even though the walls and ceiling were starting to give. It was imperative that I not be with strangers. By the time I reached the penthouse suite where we all were working from, the building was swaying to such an extreme that you could look out one window and see nothing but sky and turn and look out the oppsite window and see nothing but the ground below. I entered the room in a barely controlled panic and my friend greeted me, saying, "Thank God you made it, because in space no one can hear you scream" and smiled ironically. The sheer absurdity of the comment and the situation jolted me directly into a lucid dreamstate. [I don't know that going lucid at that point did anything more than eliminate the cliff of abject terror that I was gearing up to jump off of and maybe that was all that was needed in the end.] We rode out the quake with little more than broken furniture to be counted as casualities amongst our group and my friend held my hand throughout the entire event. When it was over, we flew around the city to see the damage. The devastation was complete, with our building being one of few still standing, but chillingly so, with only the top two floors intact and populated as the thinner windows on the floors below had exploded and people had been thrown from the building, leaving few survivors.

So, though I have an uncommonly strong fear of earthquakes, and do live in San Francisco, I strongly suspected a different sort of internal dialogue at work. With that in mind, I submitted the details to the Dreamscape program that I have on my computer. Though not infallible and most definitely underdeveloped, the program does an excellent job of both identifying less than obvious issues or presenting food for thought. It asks you to type in the dream and then go through and identify the aspects, but I've streamlined it to where I only enter the keywords and assign them to the appropriate category.

Below is what I entered and the computer generated Q & A analysis that followed. I'm not at all surprised that it pinpointed a "strong reaction" I had earlier this week.

Primary Aspect: earthquake

Secondary Aspects: skyscraper penthouse central room friends safety comfort associates strangers swaying building compression devastation windows exploded survivors

Dream Analysis: Dreaming of chaos or various sorts of disasters is common when one is soul- searching, FG. Perhaps recent events have shaken your confidence, and you're striving to make sense of your situation. You may need to make some changes in how you perceive & deal with the world around you in order to reconcile these feelings.

Dreaming of chaos or catastrophes - natural or manmade - is a safe outlet for the eruption of suppressed emotions. Have you felt out of control lately - like everything is happening at once? Yes

This is vividly reflected in your dream images, FG. Withdraw & reflect on what's truly important. Your material goals may be in conflict with your pursuit of personal peace. Perhaps you're carrying too much responsibility - worrying needlessly about things you can't control or change.

Are you fearful of an upcoming situation? Yes

These feelings are reflected in your dream. Fear & negative thinking are poisons to the self, FG - and worry is the greatest waste of creative energy. Stay in touch with your true feelings - channeling your abilities toward a solution.

Was there a window in this dream that was opaque, that is, difficult or impossible to see through? No

Consider the symbolism here, FG. A transparent window lets you see through exterior appearances to true motives - your own or those manifested by others. This may represent a focusing of attention or understanding on something that has recently become important to you.

Have you felt weak or lethargic lately? No

Your dream suggests you've been feeling misunderstood or possibly even snubbed by someone. This sometimes emerges following an unpleasant personal interaction such as a quarrel. Or perhaps you've been trying unsuccessfully to gain another's attention.

Tranquillity or lack of activity - either physical or psychological - can be a paradox, reflecting a need to become more aware of some aspect of your life that is being neglected. In other words, sit up and take notice, FG. However, these symbols may mean just the opposite - that you're comfortable with some recent decision or achievement. Any subtle feelings you noticed associated with your dream will clarify it. Did you find this dream calm & pleasant? No

Your dream symbols likely mean that indecision is paralyzing you. Perhaps you're neglecting a challenge because of uncertainty & self-doubt. Sitting on the fence yields frustration which is manifested in dreams - often before you're consciously aware of it.

You noticed a friend or colleague in your dream, FG. Were you glad to see this person? Yes

This symbolism represents feelings of safety and security. You may be seeking these qualities in a friendship - or feel you have such a companion. Although often taken for granted, secure and comfortable relationships are rare & wonderful. Perhaps this dream is a reminder to let someone know that you appreciate them.

Recall the image of the room in your dream - was it cluttered or unkempt? No

To interpret this symbol, notice the type of room and consider its symbolism. A bedroom, for instance, may reflect sexual concerns or a need for rest. A hallway, the feeling that you have a long way to go - or a porch, that you're being shut out. A garage or closet may represent difficulties in shedding old attitudes while an attic holds spiritual significance.

Recall the building image of your dream. Were you looking through a window? Yes

This represents your ability to see beyond a given situation. In other words, FG, you're using intuition wisely in some matter. You may be seeing through another's facade or false appearances.

Your dream analysis is complete. Pleasant dreams, Frisbee Girl.


A week and two days later, this is now barely swollen and most of what's left is a shifting patch of pea green bruising on my forehead, lending an interesting, but unattractive new facial feature.

As I told a friend a few days after it happened, my headstone really ought to read: "Proving Darwin wrong for 98 years."

Yet another sign of the approaching apocalypse:

Tonight, I used the word 'delightful' with no intended irony whatsoever.

We are doomed. Doomed, I say.

Monday, November 07, 2005

Earworms and Muzak madness

Because we have it at work, I listen to Muzak 5 or 6 nights a week. Now, before you make the squinchy eyes and launch into a vituperative attack on the evils and lameness of said 'piped music', allow me to say that it's good. Really good.

It stands to reason that they still have the programs of the watered down versions of 'elevator music' that were unintentionally comical in their innocuously synthesized interpretations of current and familiar pop and rock music. It's a staple of sorts. This, however, is not what we get. We get Groove Armada, Kruder & Dorfmeister, Herbert, Daft Punk and Dzihan & Kamien. We get Thievery Corporation, Moloko, Bjork, Kevin Yost, Air, Blue States and Badly Drawn Boy. We also get St. Germain, Count Basic, Jazzanova, Truby Trio and Llorca. We even get Mo' Horizons, Cure, Amp Fiddler, Dusty Springfield, Ivy and Alexkid. And sometimes, when we feel so inclined, we get a little Fischerspooner, Grace Jones, David Bowie, The Real Tuesday Weld, Massive Attack, Serge Gainsbourg, The Smiths and The Andrews Sisters. It's solidly good stuff.

If I haven't made it clear in previous posts, music trails just slightly behind food and water in my world. I do not mean that in cavalier jest or breezy exaggeration. It is pure and simple fact. I absolutely love exposure to new music and will go to considerable lengths to hunt down and find a particular song or artist. So, getting to hear excellent new music at work is fantastic. But (and this is very important, here) we do NOT get playlists. Should you wonder, trying to identify a song, whose lyrics may be in Spanish, Portuguese or Indian, for that matter, may have loops from an entirely different song or sound like an entirely different group altogether, depending on who mixed or produced it on a loud and busy dinner shift, is damned near impossible. And trying to forget about it later is an exercise in futility.

Cruel, cruel, cold-hearted world.

Friday, November 04, 2005

File under: "I couldn't have said it better myself"


How to Good-Bye Depression: If You Constrict Anus 100 Times Everyday. Malarkey? or Effective Way?
Contains this gem of a book description:

I think constricting anus 100 times and denting navel 100 times in succession everyday is effective to good-bye depression and take back youth. You can do so at a boring meeting or in a subway. I have known 70-year-old man who has practiced it for 20 years. As a result, he has good complexion and has grown 20 years younger. His eyes sparkle. He is full of vigor, happiness and joy. He has neither complained nor born a grudge under any circumstance. Furthermore, he can make love three times in succession without drawing out.

In addition, he also can have burned a strong beautiful fire within his abdomen. It can burn out the dirty stickiness of his body, release his immaterial fiber or third attention which has been confined to his stickiness. Then, he can shoot out his immaterial fiber or third attention to an object, concentrate on it and attain happy lucky feeling through the success of concentration.

If you don't know concentration which gives you peculiar pleasure, your life looks like a hell.

Well said, my friend, well said.

If you scroll further down that page, you'll find that people who looked that book also looked at this book:
How to Avoid Huge Ships. On that page, is the following book review:
A Great Metaphor for the Lessons of Life
, November 20, 2002
Reviewer: A reader
I bought this book as a joke while attending a government management seminar at the Maritime Institute of Technology (located in Baltimore Md). I remember thinking to myself "you know life is tough, but it is even tougher when your stupid". Here is a book written by an old captain who is tired of running over fools in their pleasure boats, and wants to educate those same fools in a futile effort to save their lives. One can almost imagine a sequel written by a train engineer "How to Avoid Parking on Train Tracks". At any rate for several years now this book has graced by desk, and has served as an inspiration for more conversations than any other book I have ever owned. Remember as you go through life you need to keep a lookout for the huge juggernauts that can really ruin your day.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

3 things that brought me profound happiness upon waking:

1. Not needing to look for a job
2. Not having to worry about money
3. A long, deep night of sleep

Not that my job has been in jeopardy or that rent or bills have been a problem lately, and I've actually been sleeping quite well, but this morning was a sort of extended moment. I'm sure that the time shift, circadian rhythms and biology come into play, but it had the same flavor of those moments when the light shifts just *so* and suddenly a series of subtle changes is illuminated in a way that you get a completely new sense of the vast nature of their implications and significance. And how those increments have added up to something so much larger. Suddenly you see how very far you've come and, not so much in a manner of self-congratulation but of realization, wonder, and understanding.

It's rounding the bend on the mountain, where there's a break in the trees and seeing the trailhead way down there. It's getting down the street and it occuring to you that you are actually riding the bike. On your own. It's sitting there, looking at finished product that nearly drove you insane as you wondered if you'd ever get it done.

This morning, when I counted my blessings, it wasn't as part of a prayer for rain or a personal pep talk and my to-do list wasn't laden with critical tasks and contingency plans for near misses. This morning, when the light shifted, I realized I wasn't an also-ran. This morning was a very good morning.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

To the little bling boy who sits in front of the corner store smoking blunts:

Good on you for having a sense of humor.

You: Hola morena... Hola.... Bonita, I'm talking to you.
Me: I'm sorry?
You: If I was ten years older, I'd rock your world.
Me: Excuse me?
You: If I was ten years older, I'd take you places you never even dreamed.
Me: Sweetie, you couldn't do that with a map and 20 years. But thanks.
You: Aye mami! *laughs* I think I luff you!

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

One would think

that I would have long ago learned my lesson as regards blunt traumas to the ever important noggin.

So can someone please tell me why I clearly haven't?