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had one of my occasional highly frustrating dreams last night. Many bad things happened to me, but the only thing I can really remember was that I got my Dart stuck somewhere and, as I tried to back it out, I ran over something sharp and punctured a tire. As I dealt with all these problems I found myself thinking of how I'd write it all up in the musings. I knew the day would be entitled "the worst day of my entire life." One of the cats decided I needed to be woken up at this point and hollered until I came to.
The cats have been especially pesky today. In the midst of their yowling, one of them threw up all over the living room and I had to clean it up (with apologies to Walter Miller).
get the feeling that Nancy Firedrake is a bit more absent-minded than I had imagined. I tried to call the Mayor of Bethesda Avenue last night, but the number she'd given me was the number of the other phone line, the number she'd normally give people as her own number. Than there's the issue of the big bag of bread and trail mix she and Brian left on the kitchen counter intending to take with them as road food. (What are those little green balls? They're better than they look.)
Here at Planet off c e n t e r, crates of Tic Tacs® and gallon jugs of mouthwash bear witness to the presence of an unhealthy neurosis. I know DC is trying to cut back on its air pollution, but I see no evidence that these commodities are mandated by local laws. Somebody around here has an Angela Venesian complex and is worried about the quality of his or her breath! Just for the record, there's been no indication that any of the inhabitants of this household are afflicted with the rot. Even the cats' breath smells okay, quite unlike Nicholas and his wet-food breath. Blech!
I'm trying to listen to Core by Stone Temple Pilots, sort of as an experiment. Their sound is surprisingly, er, dated. It doesn't stand the test of time anything like Nirvana, Alice in Chains, Soundgarden or even Pearl Jam. Some day (my prediction is the year 2004) we'll see Stone Temple Pilot videos on one of those MTV shows poking fun at musical interests of the preceding decade.
here had been plans tonight to go to Bardo in Arlington to watch South Park with some Internet people, but for various reasons I never went. I was kind of blocked in the driveway during a crucial period and then a possible arrival by the Mayor of Bethesda Avenue never materialized, though I probably had no reason to expect him to come anyway. I'm not a big South Park fan (indeed, I'm willing to admit that I don't really get it and find it irritating and unwatchable), but it would have been nice to hoist brewskis at Bardo. Instead I found myself sipping vodkatea all by myself.
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