Effluvia

The Washington Post took a poll to find the best driving songs. One of my favorites: Cradle of Love by Billy Idol.

Beth makes Passions sound cool; I may have to start taping.

Journal Roulette

Becoming a Muse - Poo. Poorly puctuated poo.

Siobhanorama!

Graduated!

The Old Guys
At The Gym
Ain't Cool Dep't.

Dear old dude,

Yes, you have monstrously big muscles. But don't get cocky. You've got an afro and a patchy Grizzly Adams beard, and both your t-shirt and jeans look like they came from 1982. Not the good 1982, either. I can always get in shape, but you will almost certainly never be cool.

- H

Three Years Ago
Corn on the cob on wheels.

Two Years Ago
Freaky in New Orleans. Some things never change.

One Year Ago
The exotic Pizza Hut buffet.

Friday night was fun: shopping for baby stuff at Macy's for a friend who has recently spawned, dinner (and yummy, yummy Black Forest beer) at the Crescent City Brewhouse and then more shopping at Virgin. Sonya got the Beegee's greatest hits CD. Jive talkin', indeed.

Saturday we were getting together with some friends at the Bulldog. Since this is right down the street from our house we began to suspect that people might come over at some point. This was bad, since our house looked like dude's house after the party in Sixteen Candles. So we cleaned. Normally I do the cleaning, which is guy cleaning. But Saturday Sonya was in charge and we did "actual," "thorough" cleaning. We cleaned the fuck out of that house. The results were spectacular.

Around six-thirty we moseyed down the Bulldog, where we were joined by our friends over the next hour - mainly people from my reading group and their significant others. Saturday night we had the rare treat of drinking without having to have any pesky book discussion get in our way. We quickly descended to the level of beasts. Many pitchers of beer.

One girl's boyfriend is an aspiring video director. This has brought him into contact with the city's hip-hop community. Recently, he directed a video for the charmingly titled song Dat Azz. The artists who composed this number had two rules for the video shoot:

1. No white people (except strippers) and
2. More ass.

Our aspiring director went overboard on the ass content, though. He was informed that the TV show they want to get this video played on (the show is called Phat Phat and All That and no way am I making that up) couldn't show it because the ass content was too high! He had to edit out some ass to get it approved. Hopefully I'll see it soon and can give you a full report then.

We left the Bulldog and, after a short stop at our house (so everyone could see the work we'd done), a reduced crew (Sonya and I and two others) went to the Quarter to check out the scene at the Shim Sham. Conclusion: good music, weak crowd. Better luck next time. We tottered off to bed.

Sunday was a trip to the grocery store. Sonya made tasty tuna fillets and some other friends came over for dinner and a double bill of X-Men and Quills. I liked Quills, of course, though I don't think our company was so impressed. And I thought X-Men was pretty darned cool, too! Especially Wolverine. Dude had the hair down cold, know what I'm sayin'?

And yesterday we had considered maybe driving to the beach. We both woke up late, though, so we lazed around all day, watching the X-Files marathon and playing video games. That was just as good.

Nostalgia Doesn't Pay Dick Dept.: Warren Cuccurullo, former guitarist of Missing Persons and late of Duran Duran, intends to market a line of sex toys based on his own member.

The Dexy's Midnight Runners nipple clamps, however, are just a rumor.