CB4

i have never been more infatuated with mark paul gosselaar than i am right now. holy jesus, he's almost godly. it's just a matter of time before his full filmography ends up on my netflix list.

"In every episode of Happy Days, Arthur Fonzarelli was surrounded by adoring teenage girls. The Fonz would snap his fingers and they would rush to his embrace. This phenomenon was central to all Happy Days-related discourse. We (as viewers) were constantly regaled with stories of his remarkable exploits at the popular make-out locale Inspiration Point; these tales often involved twin sisters. This was just an accepted part of life. Richie Cunningham would periodicaly wander up to the Fonz's spartan apartment over the garage, and-inevitably-Fonzie would be with a buxom (and strangely mute) high school junior.

This Forces us to pose an ethical question: Are we to assume the Fonz was having sex with all of these girls? I mean, this was the 1950s, and Milwaukee is a conservative Midwestern city. It's hard to believe that such a staid community would be supersaturated with so many sexually aggressive teeage girls. Moreover, we are supposed to perceive the Fonz as a "good guy," correct? Oh, he's a bit of a rogue (with all the bull riding and shark jumping and whatnot), but he's certainly not the type of guy who would sexually corrupt dozens-perhaps hundreds!-of virginal high school females, many of whom would have undoubtedly been under the legal age of consent in the state of Wisconsin (currently eighteen years of age). That scenario is unthinkable. We cannot exist in a society where someone like Fonzie would be lionized for being an insatiable sexaholic, a statutory rapist, and a potential child molester. This is not the behavior of a "good guy." And since Fonzie never seemed to have a long-term rapport with any of these girls, it's unlikely that he ever experienced a loving, mutually satisfying, logically advancing relationship (the lone exception being Pinky Tuscadero, who did not seem to reside in the immediate Milwaukee area).

That being the case, there is only one concusion to draw. For the entire 255 episode duration of Happy Days, the Fonz was a virgin."- Chuck Klosterman

i'm mentally preparing myself for yet another meeting with a potential roommate. after trying to cajole my teachers into allowing me to take finals early and succeeding with almost all, one was not willing to negotiate so i have no choice but to push my ca trip back one week. what a shame. that means that i have to take all my finals on their original dates. one of my teachers was actually gonna allow me to take my final in the library open book as long as i promised him that i would take the final in a quiet study area away from the vultures of my class who would try to get the answers from me early. he said i seem trustworthy and that he "has a good feeling" about me. he also said that he can sense my "honest california spirit". thank god i was radiating an aura of purity of heart today. he's normally quite a rigid and judgemental one.

so this upcoming meeting with this potential roommate all started out with me reading a vague craigslist post where someone was looking for an "asian female roommate." i told myself that this person is either A. a fobby asian girl who only feels comfortable living with other asian girls or B. guy with an asian fetish. so i made the phone call. it's A. which is a ok with me as long as she's cool. seems that lady luck may be on my side for once. not only is my honest california spirit shining through but i was also born with a vagina which, for right now, helps twist the world in my favor. every little bit helps. i feel that this will be very short lived. i'm sure it won't even make it past today.

i've watched a good amount of movies from my library pile and received new ones in the mail from netflix (bladerunner, the warriors, and true lies-it's safe to say that i'm the probably the only person who hasn't seen this movie).

ok, it's 8pm and i just got back from meeting this girl. location is perfect. thompson and bleeker, west village, clean building, conveniently next to trains i use regularly, right next door to a record shop and restaurants and bars a plenty. the only flaw was the roommate. she was an ultra conservative 30 year old woman who has a rule against boys or pets being in the apartment whether she's there or not. she said that she feels it's "better for us girls." although i was able to win her over and can probably move in next week, im afraid i cannot accept this offer. not only do i have both a cat and a boyfriend but the apartment is a 1 bedroom and she's claimed the living room and tiptoeing past her sleeping body at 3am in a drunken stupor on a regular basis is just not something i am willing to do. smoking's not allowed either. taking this place would be like moving in with my mother. except me and my mother in a cramped 1 bedroom apartment with a small (and very public) shower in the living room. it's all location. don't get me wrong, she was incredibly nice, just not the right person for me i guess. it's kinda sad to kiss that option goodbye. i sorta had my hopes up for this one too. oh the bittersweetness of the apartment hunt. it's kinda like dating. i'm looking for a potential mate to share living quarters with. we have to be compatible, want the same things, give each other the right amount of space, etc. except we skip courtship altogether and move in together right away. i do like walking to these apartment locations and pretending that i already live there. i feel like this is all gonna end with me paying a grand to live in a closet

this is what it takes for me to find a good apartment:

Furnished bedroom available in spacious 2 1/2 bedroom apartment. Doorman, high floor, city and sunset views, sunny, etc. Washer, dryer and dishwasher in the apartment. The apartment has good heat, is quiet for sleeping, has good air-conditioning, high speed internet and a spare computer for the roommate's use. It's an elevator building and there is a health club in the building. I'm looking for a female roommate who will occasionally only wear underwear bottoms when I ask in exchange for free rent. No sex whatsoever required. Otherwise the rent is $550/month, everything included. Prince St. at Broadway

that's one of many.

in other news, aside from being oh so fruitless in my apartment hunt i've been filling my life with only socially isolated activites. i have 8 movies from the library, 3 from netflix, and am currently reading 3 books, excluding text books (things fall apart by chinua achebe, finishing great expectations by dickens, and the prince by machiavelli). i'm walking around in a very mind numbing state that i rather enjoy for the time being. why the need to constantly feel anything anyway right? that only leads to feeling bad really. who needs that. of course, the immersion into film and literature has turned me into a delusional nut who walks around new york city with "everybody's talkin" as background music playing in my mind. it's all a part of the soundtrack in my (truly unwatchable) film. some days it's henry mancini, most days it's magnetic fields, and there are days when it is r. kelly though those days are few. i haven't exactly narrowed the music down to the score that will play during my most deeply felt moments (for example, in pal joey the song "i could write a book" was not only sang by sinatra for one scene but played quickly and vibrantly for fun and zany scenes and slooowed down for touching scenes). if i did indeed have to pick something i would have to pick "everybody's talkin" (by nilsson of course) but really, that's because i've really been in an "everybody's talkin" kinda mood (plus i had to watch midnight cowboy in small fragments spread throughout the last two days. i can estimate a solid 7 minutes of "everybody's talkin" per fragment. somewhere around there.) sometimes it switches to "me and my arrow" but "everybody's talkin" gives my socially isolated character's mundane walks to and from school a more poignant feel. it's not that i think i'm john voight, some naive small town joe thrown into the jaws of the big city, swallowed whole, spit out and reformed. i realize that a social life of some sort may be essential in maintaining some kind of sanity.

jesus fucking christ, i just learned today what popsicle toes really means. i've been singing michael franks' "popsicle toes" for years thinking it was innuendo for a camel toe but today the parkers taught me that it's actually in reference to someone sucking on another person's toes. i knew all this upn was good for something.

the other day in class we were talking about greek philosophers and plato came up. the teacher brings up how plato was homosexual.

then the guy behind me yells out "ah shit nigga, plato was a momo!"

i wrote this a few days ago and it, of course, refers to a specific incident.

the nights that i actually do decide to go out, i usually end up being faced with nothing but large pretentious crowds of hip young people standing together, apathetic, cigarettes dangling from their mouths, chic undereye circles as a result of regular coke binges. and even worse is that it seems that that has actually become some kind of an aspiration for a lot of the young people that i've met (or know). i can't get my head around it. everything about it is absolutely repellant. even worse is that a lot of the time, when i do get to know those individuals, 9 out of 10 times i feel like whomever i'm talking to doesn't really have anything to offer but very well thought out surface level conversation, usually with a carefully crafted combination of references to obscure bands, up and coming photographers/artists, and basically anything else that can be casually namedropped. it's all so sickeningly contrived.

i just want to meet some genuine people with whose interests lie outside of social climbing or image building. of course it's out there but i'm not going to force it.

today, in class we were talking about vices and my teacher asked the class to raise their hands if they smoked and i was actually the only person who raised my hand. girl next to me shakes her head while guy on the other side of me says "youre a smoker? that's fucking disgusting". how could people be so jaded in every sense but be so affected by something so common and insignificant?

so i got back from class a while ago and i have decided that my teacher is officially the angriest black man i have ever encountered. he's managed to cross past your typical "angry oppressed black man in a white man's world" category of angry black men and has actually pretty much taken that hostile, paranoid, self righteous angry black man stereotype to the absolute limit. i think the man models his life after sidney poitier movies or something. i think he's actually convinced that he's mr tibbs. his paranoid delusions create this world in his mind where he's always fighting some kind of battle for respect and justice and human equality, even if it's just with students in his math class. it's now open season in the classroom for his random bouts of anger. no one is safe. though i haven't been picked on yet, it's still early.

today in class, someone asked him to explain a math equation that they didn't understand. he explained it. when the student continued to ask him questions about parts of the equation that she was still confused about, he responded with: "ok. this is not an issue of math. this is an issue of color. you are only interrogating me because i am a black man. if it was a white man standing here as your teacher, you would not be questioning what i say!" the student fired back with "excuse me. so are you calling me racist!? i know you're not calling me racist!" his response: "you don't know racist. if you want me to explain real racism to you.. it will take years.." (followed by a cold stare).

in another instance, he was explaining something to the class and was asked to repeat himself by students in the back of the room. a student in front decided to kindly help him out by explaining what he had just said to the back of the classroom. he interrupted her mid sentence and yelled "look, you want to teach this course yourself!? i have been teaching since 1965! who knows where you were then."

the worst of the day had to be an instance with a nervous asian guy innocently calculating problems on his calculator. this barely audible clicking of the calculator buttons is highly offensive to mr tibbs and angers him greatly, causing him to run up to this unsuspecting, already nervous person mid calculation yelling "you do not use a calculator when the teacher is trying to teach math! are you impatient!? are you!? if you're so impatient then why don't you just go home right now and go over the syllabus and only show up on the day of my tests. (turns to the whole class) and my tests are notoriously difficult." (i wanna say that his eyes then became shifty as he said the word "notorious" followed by an evil grin, but that part of my memory i'm sure i probably created myself.) but really come on.. the nerve of nervous asian guy that calculator of his. that blatant act of rebellion was obviously a cry for help. he absolutely needed that lesson in manners.

the girl in front of me raised her hand to ask him for help on one of the equations and he approached her giving her this long response which was completely unrelated to the question or any of the material we were covering. the response was some long speech about the importance of applying oneself to mathematics. then he leaned down and whispered "laziness is dangerous" oh so discreetly into her ear. of course, i was the only one to hear this bit of advice being that i was directly behind her. she looked completely confused and said "um. i'm not lazy." whereas he silently walked away giving her a knowing look. a knowing look of what? who the hell knows. the man is from another planet.

finally some student began to protest. one yelled "look, we pay for these courses and we want to learn math!"

his response (in a mocking tone) "oh... so you want to learn huh?" after that he childishly pretends not to hear the students questions correctly for the rest of the class period.

i honestly couldn't believe what i was seeing for the whole 2 hour period of the class. i think math was only covered for 20 minutes of the period max. the rest of it was the teacher's insanity mixed with students' frustration which was perceived as racist aggression by the teacher who, in turn, would act bitterly towards the students. this is how every class has been so far. i really should've expected this today.

i'm sure i didnt really explain him well as an angry oppressed black man but in between the math related arguments was a lecture on how the white man is always trying to keep the black man down. my teacher tells us that the only way we'll ever make it in this world is by sharpening our mathematical skills. then, and only then, will we truly be prepared for the struggles ahead.

1. Go here.
2. Pass it on.
( my answers )

this thing is hilarious




1) Total # of books you own?

i dont know, 100?

♦

2) What was the last book you bought?

zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance for 50 cents

♦

3) What's the last book you read?

gorgias by plato

♦

4) List five books that have been particularly meaningful to you (in no particular order).

Norwegian Wood
Ham on Rye
The Ice Storm
Valley of the Dolls
Cat's Cradle

homecoming day 1

arrival at san jose airport. parents, little brother, and cousin greet me at the airport. my mom cooks dinner for me and me and my dad bond over alcoholic beverages. everyone's welcoming and pleasant and i'm beyond touched.

day 2

12:30pm: i go out for coffee with two of my closest friends which basically turns into me being an open ear for one of friend's rants about gay lover from the past 6 months. i get a detailed account of things i've missed (translation: inane details of the on and off relationship between this person and their lover that i have never met, nor care to meet, and events relating only to that).

3pm: sitting and talking to my mom about some asshole who screwed her friend over. girl talk + manhating= mother/daughter bonding=a RARITY for me.

5pm: meet friend and little brothers and watch jazz in the city. almost die on the road on the way to the city due to the car violently shaking in a very dangerous place. spent rest of the day observing family interaction among siblings and differences and similarities between each. open minded 18 year old brother. old world thinking, very conservative and condescending 14 year old brother. meatheadish cousin with thick chicago accent.

11:40pm: paranoid freeway driving home feels tense and neverending due to earlier near death experience and the fact that i havent driven in 7 motherfucking months. i catch myself hunched over in deep concentration many times during the drive. detour to old friend's house. chainsmoking, bonding, homophobia and subtle admittance to gay acts from most homophobic people. lots of self absorbed showing off cocky self worship from the old friend i came to visit. impressed by efforts to build oneself up. yet repelled. very repelled.

2:50am: finally arrive home. nostalgic while pulling into driveway. more interaction with parents who have proved to be way cooler than i expected throughout this trip so far.

3:37am: receive guilt inducing text messages from friends hinting at my neglecting them during my trip by not hanging out the first day. but subtle. very subtle. very passive aggressive. very guild inducing.

day 3

time separation is tedious so this is off the noggin.

night plan was centerfolds with a friend and perverted patton oswald clone. centerfolds only because apparently my friend went to a strip club and had two strippers on him who both harassed him for more money, grabbed his wallet and publicly berated and emasculated him in front of other strippers. centerfolds only is his rule, not mine. i'm so bored i'm willing to go to hungry eyes or garden of eden or whatever the hell strip clubs patton oswald suggests. he promotes hungry eyes most fiercely describing the girls as "passable and cheap" (other friend pulls me aside to tell me of his last experience there where he was aggressively pursued by a stripper with a goiter). this depresses me, but only slightly so i still insist on going. we end up at north beach where patton oswald and my friend eat and i drink a bottle of wine by myself. wrestling comes up as does an argument about whether marty jannetty was indeed the backbone for the rockers. i say yes. they say no. the alcohol in my system fuels anger and protectiveness over marty jannetty. then sadness over his lack of a present day career. which led to sadness over all the present day careers of favorite wrestlers of my youth. all but hogan who has his own fucking reality show or someshit. my friend and patton oswald then decide they want to go home.

who knows what's to come

sophia loren

andy warhol's scar from the gunshot by valerie solanas

marilyn monroe's interpretations of legendary sex symbols (among my favorites)

as theda bara

as clara bow

as marlene dietrich

as jean harlow

as lillian russel


there's no way to do the man justice

so last night i went to the tranny shack and caught (get this) "the passion of christ" drag show starring peaches christ. i went with a friend to give my approval of this guy he's infatuated with. i've never been called bitch so much in my life. just kidding. it was chock full of old men capturing their youth, gorgeous drag queens, and fake lesbians. i think i need to get out more, it was fun. i realized last night that everyone in the whole goddamn world knows every word of "baby got back".

i mustve been a drunk ass because i recall aggressively hitting on a courtney love lookalike, but like courtney love in an 80s spandex dress a la any 80s movie that played on USA's up all night with rhonda shear/gilbert godfried. actually, she couldve been rhonda shear, yikes.

random thought.. i was talking to my friend's roommate the other day and he was talking about his favorite porn star, brandon johnson or something or other (what a wholesome all american name). he went to a drag show and brandon johnson or whatever his name is was trying to get off on stage and i guess my friend's roommate was in awe of this man's presence. my friend's roommate is a "performer" himself and was explaining how hard it is to get off in front of drag queens so he completely felt his pain. so brandon johnson finally busts a nut and my friend's roommate jumps up on stage and tells me, in these exact words: "he filled up my eye sockets my mouth and it ran all down my face! then he gave me his shirt to wipe it all off and let me keep it! the bouncer got jealous and kicked me out and i met my friends at the bar across the street and told them to lick my face and they did and asked whose it was and i said 'brandon johnson!' and they were like 'no fucking way!' and then brandon johnson walks into this bar and asks for me and then autographs the shirt and hangs out with me, it was so surreal" then he shows me the shirt, holds it up to his face and takes a whiff and then turns to me and says "it still smells like him". i swear i mightve seen tears of nostalgia in the corners of his eyes. he went and got it framed and it is now hanging on his wall (with many other things of sentimental value i.e. sketches of guys holding their cocks and looking seductively at the camera and a naked guy sitting on a cone. i couldnt bring myself to ask him why these guys all seemed to look so burt reynolds-esque. was this merely a coincidence?). why did i think of this random story you ask? because i went to a drag show which led into the recollection of his comment "it's damn near impossible to get off on stage with drag queens up there!"

ok so of all the things in the story, i'm slightly disturbed by the fact that that guy had someone cum in his eye sockets. don't ask me why. i think it makes me think of how bad it's supposed to be to get the clap in your eye. doesnt that lead to blindness or something? who knows

my life has been a blur lately. school work school work random activity school another random activity work.......forever and ever amen. today was a nice vacation from the monotony of my everyday life. i went to the city at 9am to meet up with my parents for the "bay to breakers" but couldn't get a hold of them and ended up just wandering around with my brother all day instead. twas awesome. as much as i was hoping to march those 7 miles with naked sunburned people, i didnt feel like i was at a loss.

god, work is like fucking high school. you think things change after you leave high school but really every place youre in after is just some variation of your high school experience. it's pretty fucking annoying. off topic, i think people at work think that all i listen to is 80s music (which i find equally annoying). it's just that, for some reason, it's the only topic thats held any weight in conversation there. i'm constantly being asked "so i hear you like 80s stuff" whatever the hell that means. my manager made me a cd the other day and he refused to tell me what was on it and it turned out to be a hall and oates/journey compilation. yes, that part of the 80s. it sucks, i have this problem where if i get phil collins my head, it lingers for weeks on end, his piercing voice just repeating over and over in my head drilling into my mind. but when he sings in my head, it almost sounds like he's singing in a bathroom or somewhere with a heavy echo. i had "against all odds" in my head one day and was singing it out loud while walking around work without realizing it and no one will let me live it down. i'm more than just easy listening 80s people! jesus

oh by the way, dont get me wrong, hall and oates and journey are great. i was happy to hear charlize theron give steve perry a much deserved shout out at the golden globes. why she gave him a shout out? who knows. i thought maybe because "dont stop believin" was the theme song for "monster" or something? i dont know. which reminds me.. i was talking to a friend about what his line up would be if he could throw a concert with any bands he wanted and he said he would have journey there and have steve perry sing "foolish heart" while some fat redneck guy proposes to his girlfriend on stage. then i imagined the audience cheering when the girlfriend says yes and steve perry looking over and giving redneck guy an encouraging wink. unfortunately, i'm pretty sure this scenerio will never play out in real life.

so i basically have no life at this point. my life consists of working and going to school. i've been hanging out with people at work more often though.. it started out as a way for me to possibly get to know the people better to enable a better working environment for myself, social harmony in the workplace and whatnot, and turned into yet another compulsive latching onto. I feel like i'm leading this secret life with these fucking movie characters that don't actually exist when i dont see them and i become this annoying person that i hate when i do see them. maybe i like to feel secluded, whether it be with groups of people i dont relate to or by myself (although honestly, i've realized the latter is actually far more enjoyable).

i've become pretty decent friends with this guy at work actually, i'd say he's probably the only person i've talked to in the past few weeks where i didnt feel like i was simultaneously figuring out the perfect strategy for escape from the conversation. but what annoys me about him is that i think he believes that he much deeper than he really is. i mean i enjoy conversations with the guy and we've had our share of interest exchanges where i'll loan him movies, tv shows, etc and vice versa and it's all proved to be ok with the exception of this book he loaned me that supposedly "changed his life" which turned out to be pretty uninteresting and predictable and damn near impossible for me to pick up everytime i stopped reading (i'm actually still reading it). he said that the other people he's recommended the book too are blown away by it and it is actually making them re examine their lives. jesus, it's a story about a guy who decides to change his monotonous life and pursues his destiny with the run of misadventures along the way. can i tell you what happens next? he discovers that what he's looking for has been within him all along! aww.. no thanks.. there's a reason that that book has been sitting in my room collecting dust the past few years after my uncle tried forcing me to read it all that time ago. he also loaned me the movie "mission to mars" the other day. he calls it "a work of genius". i feel bad because everytime i see him now he'll ask me if i've seen it yet. i dont want to watch mission to mars, there's a reason i didnt watch it in theaters. it's probably at the very bottom of my movie rental list if on the list at all. but of course, because he's one of the only people i think is cool at work, i'm gonna have to sack up and watch it. i know i know, i'm being a bitch about this but i rarely have time to watch movies or do anything enjoyable these days and i really really cherish those moments. so maybe i'm wrong, and mission to mars will be my next favorite movie. but i can imagine watching it grimacing at the thought of someone actually call this special effects fiasco a work of genius. but you know what assuming does.

he also talked to me about this guy he considered his "mentor", whom i refer to as his life mate because i think theyre basically a couple. he ranted and raved about this guy actually using such words as "brilliant" and "wise". "he's very perceptive", he says "he gives people 3 chances to prove themselves".. or ...what?? or he'll exile them into the flames of hell.. cause the earth to split in half to swallow them to their fiery doom? who is this guy and why would his opinion matter? because youre 20 and and he's 6 years older? that guy's proved to be about as brilliant as a cardboard box. his "perceptive mind" hasnt made any observations that arent already screamingly obvious to anyone with eyes and a working brain. at first i tried to be nice to 26 year old life mate because everyone i work with loves the guy so i figured that maybe he's not too shabby, but then i realized that we really didnt get along too much (because he's an asshole) and he hasnt really made any mark on me in any way for his opinion of me to actually matter. the other day someone at work approached me and said "hey so [co worker's life mate] likes you! he's trying to come up with a handshake for you guys because he does special unique handshakes with the people he thinks are cool".. jesus.

whatever, i think i'm gonna go back to staying home all the time, the attempt at a social life has proved to be quite unfullfilling.

good news: i got tickets to the prince concert! unfortunately, the seats are kinda far so i guess i'll be forced to throw my panties to the screen instead of the stage. good enough

so last night was very random. i wandered around the city with one of my friends after work and we ended up at roaring 20s, which honestly made me feel like i walked into the fucking players club and was gonna see diamond and the whole chickenhead gang with ice cube watching and jamie foxx djing. i think half the strippers were at least 5 months pregnant and looked absolutely pained when on stage. when i got there it was empty with one 50something year old man at the stage. they were so desperate for people they let me and my friend in for 5 bucks each. i thought it was odd that they gave you cups at the door and theres just a random soda machine where you fill up your cup like youre at goddamn mcdonalds but with a naked girl gyrating next to you. anyway there's like 2 cute strippers, definite default. then this really pretty stripper walks in. she looked like a waifier elisha cuthbert:


so she's goes up and performs and then i guess makes her rounds offering lapdances and whatnot and then she sits next to me and my friend. but instead of giving us her spiel she actually just talks to us. i assumed it was boredom being that everyone else there was probably not too good for conversation and probably didnt have their mind on anything but fucking her brains out. so she tells us about how she's from palm springs and stuck in san francisco because the clutch on her car broke and she doesnt want to risk driving back. she explains how different it is at her club in palm springs compared to this one, etc etc. it was awesome to just sit and talk to her about her job and hear her rant and to just listen to things she told us about herself. the times i've gone to strip clubs i always sat there and wondered what these women's lives were like outside of work because there you're limited to seeing them trying to portray a fantasy. but here i was talking to a girl about her boyfriend and her life, how she felt lost and out of place in san francisco, how she missed home, how she became a stripper, how she didnt get along with girls at work, and how her knees and shins were bruised from having to crawl around on the stage and act sexy. a few times, different guys would approach her, money in hand, and they'd drag her off. there was one time this really nervous looking balding old man with glasses and a sweater vest was tapping her shoulder while we were talking and she didnt notice and me and him made eye contact and he looked away really embarassed. i liked the fact that she actually chose to hang out with us the whole night and just talk. even the times she had to go back on stage she would automatically come back and sit with us afterwards. her name was summer and she actually seemed way too classy for that place and too beautiful. it was sheer luck that the only beautiful stripper happened to be the coolest and just happened to possibly enjoy talking to us or something. anyway, when we left she hugged us goodbye. i was thinking about how she was actually a really cool person and how i would really like to hang out with her outside of work but chances are we'll never see each other again.

strippers really have to put up with a lot of bullshit. i give them a lot of credit. looking around the room there were lots of guys who looked like goddamn rapists and of dirty old men. the worst was when a group of drunk sorority girls came in and sat in the front row, the bday girl had a tiara on and they were throwing money at the stripper and totally screaming everytime the stripper spread her legs in front of them. i dont think theyve ever seen a vagina before. me and my friend talked about how theyre probably gonna go back to the sorority house and drunkenly make out with each other while giggling. either that hang out with these frat guys (who were also there) and probably have ruffies slipped in their drinks by the end of the night. slipped into those free drinks from the soda machine courtesy of the roaring 20s.

this is a tribute to bands reunited, the best reality show on tv right now (with my big fat obnoxious fiance at a close second, so far) .. watching bands reminisce about old heydays and the big egos that shattered them ("we shouldve never split up!" being said at least once per episode) is just so darn engaging. if you ask me, this should be a lesson for the growing egos of today's music industry. hopefully they'll hold a bands reunited show in this area one day.. with my luck it'll probably be a 3rd rebirth of new edition with bobby brown making yet another embarassing attempt at stealing the show with those dated hip gyrations of his. and i quote "new edition together sells a million albums.. but bobby brown sells 20 million"- bobby brown '02

honestly, i feel a little betrayed by vh1 and berlin for yanking my heartstrings and leading me to believe that this was a genuine reunion.. little did i know, they actually had a reunion concert in 99 and released an album in 2000.. damn that vh1 with their perfect music/editing combo.. i traveled that emotional half and hour journey with the band.. and for what?? oh well it was a good episode and terri nunn holds up so well after all these years (ok so i realize i'm only covering berlin and they werent even the best band on the show, this just happened to be the first episode i laughed and cried with)

i have to say that i saw the most horrific thing today. i was driving towards what i thought was part of a branch on the ground at the parking lot at school and when i got close to it it was a squirrel with it's head run over and it's tail still wiggling around like mad. call me an animal freak if you will but now i am officially disturbed and sad. i actually had to back up all the way so that i could take another route to avoid it. yesterday i saw a squirrel standing on a platform and people going up to it and feeding it and i wanted to snatch the motherfucker and take him home to be my pet. now i see that one of his brothers/sisters/friends has gotten decapitated. maybe all those little bastards will learn something from this example and will stop standing around and waiting till the last minute to run across the street. or maybe not.