Happy Birthday, Brian G.!

I know you must have had a great time, because you managed to stumble over to my blog and post a little something.

(This may be a good time to point out that there are a couple of other people that have access to my account. It is mostly because I can't even spell "HTML" and I constantly need their help, but occasionally you may find something like the post below popping up.

It would seem, Brian, that your friends over there performed admirably and got you blisteringly drunk, just as we would have.

Brian, I'm sorry I couldn't be with you on your mission to simultaneously out-rock and out-live all of us, but we're all thinking of you, mang.

Happy Birthday.

Drank It At The Grape Vine

I went to The Vine, which I had heard was a sweet place to be on a Thursday night.

I had heard truly.

It was like something out of a movie. Giant beers (for two dollars), drinking songs, and a drunken Karoake DJ ensured that all of us had a lively time.

The kareoke was great, too. It really added to the atmosphere. Hell, it was the atmosphere. People got up there, sang, more often than not did an enthusiastic but sub-par job of it (except of course, for Mr. Schuler's rendition of "Billy Jean") and thoroughly enjoyed themselves. You couldn't take two steps in that place without stepping in wild abandon.

I enjoyed it, although I spent most of my "breakfast with Lauren H. money" on giant, cheap, beers.

I really wanted to sing, too. I can't, but no one else was letting that stop them. The one song I would have wasn't there, though. I was looking for Dramarama's "Anthing, Anything." The lyrics are great...

[in a low, gravelly voice]
When I was young I learned a game
where love and happiness were the same
Now I'm older and I don't play
I found out the hardest way

[pitch gets higher, a little more frantic]
I got wasted, she got mad
Called me names and she called her dad
He got crazy and I did too
Wondered what I did to you

[then scream chorus]
I'll give you candy, give you diamonds, give you pills!
I'll give you anthing you want!
Hundred dollar bills!
I even let you hear the songs I want to sing
I'll give you anthing, anything, anything
Anything....

Well, I like it. But they didn't have it, so I didn't sing it. It's probably for the best.

Another Reason I Need A Loudspeaker For My Car

I'm at a stop-light in a major intersection. A riced-out car is idling next to me in the left-hand turn lane. It's late, it's dark, but the green arrow signalling the other car's right-of-way is clearly visible.

As the green arrow turns yellow, the driver notices it and lurches into gear. The driver completes his left turn and whines off. On the back of the car are large letters that say, "Import Life."

"Maybe you should import some brains," I mutter to myself.

Then, as I'm laughing at my own joke, I notice that my light is green, and probably has been for some time. No one was behind me to notice, so I had to laugh at myself.

Dear Anonymous:

I'm not sure why you would ever want to marry me.

Could you imagine sleeping peacefully in the dead of night and me stumbling in from my midnight excursions?

Then, if that wasn't bad enough, instead of just going to sleep like a normal person, me sitting down and tap-tap-tapping away at my keyboard for another hour or so before finally going to sleep around five or six?

And then, on most days, waking up at 11 or 12, scrambling to do my Italian homework and still have time to blast the "Kill Bill" soundtrack before leaving for class.

Then, coming back home around 2:20 pm, prattling around on the computer, trying to squeeze in a 20 minute nap, and then going to work.

I wouldn't come home after work, of course.

I might go and visit my parents, and play with my niece who has recently learned to walk.

Or go play volleyball.

Or go to a bar.

Or go to secret places that are too secretive to even mention in the most cryptic of passings.

Then tromping back home at three or four to do it all over again.

What kind of life is that for a civilized human being?