all that filibluster, and then. . .

NOTHING! we sat around watching back issues of "the boondocks" and drinking beers. there were like three of us. why, when i turned twenny. . .i. . .um. . .did even less. but hey, i lived at my parents house. so probly i had a some sort of righteous "foodstuffs" and a baked cheesecake. (this in contrast to the one whose recipe--some sorta "no bake cheesecake"--is often on the back of "philadelphia brand cream cheese".) it was, however, easy to get to sleep, cos all the kids went home at like ten. I THOUGHT YOUNG 'UNS WERE SPOSETA PARTY LIKE ROCK STARS!!!! guess i was "noncorrect".

trivia last night. . .apparently there's some sort of reason why "trivial" means, actually, "whole types of useless". but fun. there were a) lots of people who b) knew each other, which makes me way "disuncomfortational" cos i knew, precisely, 1.35 other people in the joint. one was the friend by whom i had been coerced into joining said soiree, .25 was the erstwhile booker of a club inside which an old band i was in oncetuponatime useta play and .1 was this girl whose two wheeled bicycle i may or may not have fixed, but whom i remembered from some sort of "interactation" at my bicycle related job in the past 1-22.5 weeks, who "concidentationally" was one of our "teamsters". i did, "contrarian" to what i may appear to have felt, have fun. my friend and i "slayed" the music section and i "rocked" some "correctational" answers in the geography "biz". our other "teamsters" didn't know where kamchakta is and thought pink floyd's "money" was actually the theme song from "where the wild things is". none of my fellow "teamsters" had heard of chad ocho cinco and I TOTALLY KNOW WHO HE IS!!!!! this all boosted my ego precisely 3.8%. at the end of the evening i was so confident in my "biz" that i told my friend if she wanted to "do something" (my actual words. ach.) on sunday, we probly could. she said she "might be sleeping". i think what she really wanted to do was sing to me cheap trick's power anthem "i want you to want me". i can tell this cos she followed up her comment with a quick "exeunt" and then called in sick to work today. and y'all knows't dat means.

the big 2-0

my roommate is twenty today. this makes me feel OLD. not cos i am, but cos reminders of others' comparative youth. . .um. . .remind me that i'm no longer "young"? hm. anyway, it's cool for him cos NOW HE'S NO LONGER A TEENAGER. i remember how sweet a realisation that was. (though it was tempered by the fact that i was pushing carts in the safeway that day, which most kids in their early twenties tend not to do. whatever.) there will be an attendant party at our house tonight. this, of course, makes me pretty frightened, cos parties make me pretty frightened. all those people tryna impress each other, drinking like the fishes, i don't know. at least i know how to close my door when i go to bed.

in other news, i'm going to a bar with a girl tomorrow night. this is way surprising. in full disclosure, it's for trivia night and there will be other people on our team and it's not actually a date, but i'm a bit shaky. THIS DOESN'T HAPPEN TO ME VERY OFTEN. actually, this sort of thing has happened exactly ONCE before. hm. last time this sort of thing happened, the agreement was worked out in this fashion: female skier person says, "wanna go for a drink?" and i says, "you buyin? all the money i had till it snows i put in my gas tank to get up here." notice the confidence on my part, not afraid to tell her i'm flat broke. i'm sure that meant something to her. i know this cos THE RELATIONSHIP LASTED AS LONG AS THE HINDENBURG.

in other other news, i landed with my hip on a four inch root yesterday while falling on my bike. i could barely walk this morning, and i thought i'd be all hobbled and ready for some sympathy, but now it barely hurts and THERE'S NARY A BRUISE AS EVIDENCE! HOW CAN I SOLICIT SYMPATHY WITHOUT EVEN A BRUISE?? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA.

anyway. ima check my, um, checking account, see if i'm broke. peace.

Who IS this guy, Anon?

I've always wondered why people are so willing to "speak out", as seems prevalent today, but are reluctant to leave a trail of bread-crumbs from the speaking out back to right where they're standing at the moment. So they put on this veil of secrecy and just sign their comments "Anonymous."

Now a manuscript -- words or music -- that has gotten separated from the author/composer is usually attributed to "Anon", and that's okay. But to always want to stay incognito shuts off inquiries, conversation, and perhaps compliments.

Contributed by The Shadow Knows.......

(If YOU'VE a response, send it by plain wrapper to The Shadow, c/o General Delivery, USPS)