There's a new movie out on the pay channels. It's called Space Truckers. It stars Dennis Hopper, Stephen Dorff and Debi Mazar.

Now I know immediately no one is going to watch this film - not with a title like that, anyway. Perhaps some alternate titles would be better?

Hopper Has A House Payment

Stephen Dorff Had No Idea Blade Would Be So Successful

Debi Mazar: Working While She Can

Or the one I think the stars of this movie would like best:

Contractual Obligation

Yesterday I went home for lunch. It was a warm, spring-like day and I was a touch heated when I finally got home. I took off my sweater, untucked my t-shirt and had lunch.

As I was leaving I stood up and began to unzip my pants.

"I better take care of this before I leave," I said to Sonya, whose eyes widened suspiciously.

Then I tucked my shirt back in.

Sonya made James a cake last night. It is very cool. Purple icing with green words and yellow sprinkles. Three doubloons lodged into the top. And it bristles like a porcupine with twenty-seven little yellow candles. It is the ultimate Mardi Gras birthday cake. We will eat it tonight.

Today is James' birthday, by the way.

Happy Birthday Jame-suh!

James, Jen, Sonya and I went out for pints last night with Ward, Kathy and Geneva. Went to the Saucer, as usual, and drank far too much beer for a school night.

The last time I saw Geneva (she's from Little Rock and coordinates races all the time, apparently) she was quite pregnant and bemoaning the fact that she couldn't have beer. Last night she was looking fit 'n skinny again. Her and Ward and Kathy had just gone for a long run up and down the river. She was making up for missing those beers last time, I assure you.

One of our waitresses, now, was right next door to naked. She was cute, don't get me wrong, but I wasn't at Hooters; I didn't expect to see so much flesh. She had a little t-shirt tied over her navel and a skirt so short she had to keep her posture perfect or risk showing her ass.

Geneva cornered our waiter, a new guy named Mike, and asked him about it. Specifically, she said, "I've got a question about your attire."

Mike nodded expectantly.

"Why are you wearin' so many clothes?"

I also ran into David, a guy I went to elementary school and junior high with. Sonya went to high school with him. We three did the "good to see ya!" thing for a little while. David, who is a year younger than me, has a house, two kids, a wife and a job managing a bar. He also has a beard. He is frighteningly adult.

I keep thinking of him as an altar boy whose robe was a touch too long.

It's weird. The last time we saw David was also the last time we saw Geneva. Like a rare convergence of planets or something, I guess.

Anyway, the seven of us drank a lot and talked a lot. I don't remember about what, specifically, but we had a fine old time. I think James and I are going running tonight. I also think I'm doing a triathlon next year, which scares me deeply.

I hope I didn't sign anything.

This morning I woke up a bit thirsty but feeling pretty good. Sonya, though, had three beers last night, which is about three over her usual. Her first words this morning?

"I feel like shit."

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