they say you shouldn’t eat right before you sleep because it’ll give you fucked up dreams.

well, based on my experience this past weekend, it turns out watching fear and loathing in las vegas right before going to bed will also do the trick.

not like waking up next morning all “ooh that was fucked up dream!”
we’re talking TERROR.

…this time last year when we were still so…

yeah I remember a time when I’d relish the opportunity to drop that go sailor lyric as email subject lines. not so much these days, though.

anyway, dunno if you heard, but there’s some city-wide gas leak going on today.

awesome.

yeah so I got a new phone on a new service. it’s got all these great reviews but everyone’s having a bitch of a time hearing what I’m saying! I can hear everyone fine though.

am I holding it all funky? and YES - I removed the little plastic.

so what the fuck? I have a week or so to take it back if I want to exchange it. or learn how to hold this thing right, because evidently I sounded clearly ONCE.

a happy 666 to you all, and to all a good night.

ps- fuck the omen remake.

…of all nights for my jedi mind trick to fucking WORK.

but, you know what, it was actually an easy decision to let go of susan. let’s face it, their overnight date and its conversations were awkward at best and all susan brought to the table was her unwavering beauty and a tiny bikini. travis questioned her motivations for being on the show every time he opened his mouth it seemed, so obviously he couldn’t have been too comfortable on this date. and of course susan’s inability to say anything that didn’t sound poorly rehearsed didn’t help matters much either.

let’s see a show of hands of who believes he had already made up his mind before going into this date? it wasn’t so much a “get to know her better” in a romantic sense, but more of a “get to know her true intentions” in a very methodical scientific sense.

so next week all the eliminated girls come to the ABC studios to hash shit out! I’ve been waiting for this episode since the first one ended. I want to see two things happen:

- allie g getting positively roasted
- susan being herself for the first time on the show

who cares what’s going to happen in the season finale? we already know moana’s gonna win this thing.

quite an experience, that jury duty. I dutifully jotted down most everything that happened in a little journal being the anal freak (not that kind of anal freak) that I am. you may regret wasting your time reading this.

[08:40] I was cruising right on time for my 8:45 start time. I marched up the New York State Supreme Court steps and waited in line at the security check point. the officers were actually very friendly. though they had these uneasy smiles as if to say “please don’t blow up this building. please.”

[08:50] there must be over a hundred of us all sitting in these VERY NICE PLUSH INDIVIDUAL SEATS. so this is where my tax dollars go (that and the motion sensor flushy toilets). anyway we’re twiddling our thumbs wondering what’s going to happen next. right near me I notice a girl whom I can only describe as “Mischa Barton At Age 23″ and she is rightfully hot. dudes walking up the aisles are totally checking her out. I wonder if they think they’re sneaking sneaky peeks, because they’re doing a fucking horrible job at it.

[09:10] some late stragglers still coming in. fuckers. I rushed out of the house for this?! I’m reading Our Band Could Be Your Life and it’s good.

[09:25] finally they have us watch this orientation VIDEO that has some hilarious “acting” and narrated by diane sawyer.

[10:20] they call up 30 names to be potential jurors in some case. I’m not one of the names called. poo. I’m reading about Black Flag.

[11:00] another 30 names are called up. still not me. (note: mischa barton girl [henceforth MBG] still hasn’t been called either. she’s reading The Five People You Meet In Heaven.)

[12:30] lunch break! back at 2.

[14:05] in the elevator back from lunch. the doors are closing and two lawyer-types are hurrying to get in. I hit the [doors open] button, but they didn’t say thanks. fuckers.

[14:35] YES! called up for a 40-person whopper jury call-up thing. AND it’s in another building! we’re escorted to the neighboring building and walk through a series of corridors. we enter a section of the building marked NARCOTICS DEPARTMENT and I’m thinking “SWEET this is a drug case.” we enter a little court room and we get to fidget around until…

[15:45] …we’re told we can’t talk to anybody about what we’re about to hear. this super secret case, to give you a hint, rhymes with RENTAL-PAL-CACTUS. boo. there are a bunch of lawyers here — I thought there were supposed to be just two? anyway, half of them start yakking at us and…

[16:30] …we’re done for the day! we are to return the next day at 10am sharp. surely there will be stragglers…

TO BE CONTINUED DAMMIT

so it’s like seriously 90-something degrees these days. hot, muggy, sticky, life-draining. so I had that going for me when I went to my kung fu class the other day: my class is held at this medium-sized studio in a fifth-floor walk-up in chinatown.

air conditioning? fuh-huck no.

so in the blazing heat and no a/c and only HOT TEA (!) to drink I had my work out. needless to say I was pretty goddamn thirsty when I stumbled out of those five floors of stairs back down to ground level.

I made my way to one of the non-descript chinese grocery stores (as there are many in … chinatown) and went straight for the drinks fridge. I grabbed the biggest thing I could find, which happened to be a tall orange can.

PAPAYA MILK, it said. 24oz of milk, papaya, (some chemical), (some other chemical), and (the last thing listed in the ingredients list). for $1. it could either be AWESOME or THE FUCKING WORST THING EVER. why not?

I pop the thing open. it’s filled with this milky orange substance, as expected. first sip…

… inconclusive. I can’t decide if this stuff is good or horrible. keep drinking…

… the stuff has that fruity pungent smell, as expected of something with papaya in it. let’s keep drinking…

… I just don’t know about this. I may be leaning towards it being “gross”. but I’ve come too far to go back now (over half the can is gone by this point). gulp gulp…

… ok, wait, surely this stuff isn’t made of REAL milk. look at the label: MILK. not powdered milk or some sort of parmalat-like super shelflife milk. I dunno why, but I keep drinking (about 80% of the can is gone by this point)…

… ok, let’s look at the back of the can. maybe it’s made real close by so it wouldn’t have been sitting on the shelf for too long. towards the bottom of the can:

MADE IN TAIWAN. OH MY GOD.

not even a full week into april and HOLY SHIT

it’s 77 degrees!

this is ridiculous.

we just blew up 500 balloons. I think I’m going to faint.

not to open HSS on a downer, but the get up kids called it quits recently.

even though they sort of lost me on their more recent releases, I’ll never forget the time I heard “red letter day” for the first time or when I bought a ticket from a scalper to see them open for weezer at roseland. or when I was the only one up front who knew the words to “central standard time” at their philly show (stephen strutt can back me up on this one).

anyway, stay tuned for a whole lot of march madness rants coming your way.