(An old e-mail I had sent to myself, which is strange since I don’t often do this sort of diary or journal writing.)
Random notes:
Rap outfit Cancer Rising doesn’t have much of a web presence.
Turns out one of my favorite songs by the Rheostatics (“One More Colour”) is actually a Jane Siberry song; imagine how surprised I was when I heard that one coming out of my computer.
Apologies for not being around or contacting you since I got back from Sunriver; I managed to lose my phone the same night I got back, and just now, about a half-hour ago, got it back. Interestingly enough, I lost it while getting loaded and listening to some random country CD this guy I know is … well, I suppose “producing” is the word. The musician, whose name escapes me, is talented. The production sounds okay, but the CDR it was burned to was a hideous wreck.
Best excuse given to cops of late: When the police hit us with the lights and asked who vomited, Rachel volunteered, “I had chowder today”. In reality, she apparently remembered only after she took three Vicodin that she’s allergic to the drug. Or maybe it could have been the mix of Vics, beers, and rum & cokes.
Strangest day of the week: Thursday into Friday. I spent a few hours carousing with a neighbor of mine. My only excuse is that I was roped into it and didn’t know enough about who I was dealing with. Turns out he’s a borderline schizophrenic, or something. Ain’t ne’er seen a mind quite like this. At least not at close range. Creepy. After turning down drinks all night (I didn’t feel like it after consuming Bud Light the night before), I turned down lines of cocaine as well. Strangely, the coke actually slowed this guy down. Kind of an L-Dopa effect, or something; speed up the tremors until they disappear. Absolutely messed up.
Coolest quote of the week: My cousin’s middle child, Danny, tells me at Sunriver, “You’re the coolest parent here.” Well, yes, thank you, but I’m also the one who’s nuts. That was a delicate conversation. But you should really see Missoui Synod Lutherans in their sixties get hit by Nickelback. Rarely will I agree with my aunt that something needs to be turned off immediately, but hey, it was Nickelback.
Why does Dora only get a backpack, while Diego gets a PDA? Or perhaps the question should be, Why does Diego only get a PDA, while Dora gets a magic, talking backpack that has whatever you need inside it and eats everything else, including ferris wheels?
Now that’s a backpack.
B.D.'s Last Refuge 