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Effluvia Wacky videos:
falling atoms - I choose not to mock - at least not for the moment. Surprising, considering the host. Siobhan needs some high quality flip-flops. The Coworkers
The jargon. The endless jargon. I understand nothing
beyond, "hi! Can I talk to you about...." It's
meaningless.
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30 April 2001 Gym Interesting events from the past week: Wednesday night my little reading/drinking group got together. We had read House of Leaves, a book that I suggested. Everyone loved it. My book is best ever. Hurrah! Also, the girl who hosted the get-together had a brand-new Adam Ant greatest hits CD for us to listen to; the evening was made twice as good after that. Reading and drinking rocks! This same hostess also told us lots of gossip about
her semi-famous boss. It's good to know people.
Sonya and I, in an attempt to buy happiness, spent lots of money this weekend! Make-up! Books! Music! Designer accessories! Groceries! Anything our avaricious little hearts deseired, we did acquire. A great deal of this was inspired by Sonya's attempt to quit smoking. She has a patch affixed to her ass as we speak. She was laying on the couch, twitching erratically, on Saturday afternoon. I tried to cheer her. "I know you don't have smokes," I said, "but you've got me. And Roxy." "And if I could roll the dog up and smoke her right now I would," Sonya said bleakly. Also, getting in the car in a French Quarter parking lot on Saturday night: the Eclipse was sharing the parking lot with a yellow Aztek with Texas plates. My Survivor-watching fans will understand the importance of this. Colby, the jockish Texan on the incredibly popular show, won an Aztek this past week. A big yellow one. I peered into all the windows, but I saw no sign
that it was Colby-owned. However, I saw no sign that
it wasn't Colby-owned, either, so let's just
say it was his, okay? That would make me happy.
About two weeks ago a little girl was kidnapped in Slidell, a city to the east of New Orleans. I figured it was pretty grim, you know? I remember reading some FBI thing once where the author said that if they don't get a ransom demand immediately the victim is usually already dead. They hadn't heard a word from anyone who might have the kid. That made it all the more happy-making when she got
off a Greyhound bus here in New Orleans yesterday
afternoon, coherent and apparently unharmed. An old
lady came up to me and Sonya and told us in the
grocery store. I think she was just happy with the
good news and wanted to share. I'm glad she did.
My job offers a much-discounted rate of membership at a nice health club within walking distance of where I work. I finally joined up today. And who should I see working out on a bike while I was on the treadmill? Why, none other than the NFC West champion's coach Jim Haslett! Haslett is the head coach of the New Orleans Saints and, I would assume, he probably has a place to work out where he works, you know? Maybe he wanted to get out of the office, though. He is a large man, I assure you. Very broad, very ex-football player. Another celebrity sighting. Cool. What was not so cool was the naked old men in the locker room. Whew! And the naked guys in general. I am, at heart, a Southern Protestant. You may be naked with any other individual at any one particular time and that's fine. But a room full of naked old men? Eh, I'm uncomfortable with that. But I was especially sweaty and stinky after my time on the treadmill. I had to shower. So, keeping my shorts firmly attached, I took my towel and went to the showers. At least there were separate stalls, thank Christ. But, you know, compared to some of the specimens I saw today I'm not so bad off. Heck, I've got a tattoo and a nipple ring to draw attention away from less attractive areas. Besides, no one's ever going to say anything about the way I look because if they did that would mean they were looking at me and they would, therefore, be gay. Can't have that in the locker room. Oh, remember that episode of Seinfeld where George takes a shower at the gym and then complains because it "didn't take?" That happened to me today. I took a nice warm cleansing shower, then let the cold water run over me for five minutes or so. It did no good. I kept sweating for a good ten minutes after I left. But imagine how horrid I would have been if I hadn't showered at all? One more thing: they have draft beer in the pleasant little atrium cafe at the gym. Beer. On tap. In a health club. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you alcohol: state
bird of Lousiana.
The dog got into a bag of garbage and shit all over the floor. Typical. |
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