Way Out In Left

Beliefs, Controls, and the Occasional Bologna Sandwich

 
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Monday April 4 2005. 2 SECOND POEM.
  We set the clocks back
  'Cause Spring is here
  It's Opening Day
  Less wine and more beer
MOVING ON. C-SPAN.

  Wow. I'm both glad and sad that this whole Terry Shiavo mess is through. After all the controversy, all the viciousness, all the posturing, and all the unneeded pain, hopefully the Shiavos and the Schindlers can make peace with themselves and each other. That's about the best thing we can hope to come out of this.

  And in other Congressional news, on the first day of March Madness I took off work so I could watch a little b-ball. Instead, I spent 11 hours watching the goddamn steroid hearings. It was riveting (I thought so), but I wish it didn't take place.
BUSY BUSINESS. KIDDIE TALES.

  All of a sudden, I'm busy with my newsletter business. In the past month I've had four new clients sign up (including two last week) and two others express serious interest.
  Not that I'm complaining or anything, but I had to work late a few nights last week and I even worked this past weekend. It's kinda cool, actually. Hopefully, this will become a trend (the new client thing, not the working late thing).

  Not to be snarky or anything, but I get the feeling that my friends think I don't care much about their kids, or at least their newborns.
  First example: Hammy and Cathy are having a kid in September and they just found out the sex of the child. Cathy excitedly emailed all the girls in our group of friends. But not me.
  Second example: Matt and Jessica just had a little tyke last Monday and Matt emailed out a picture of the baby to a bunch of people. But not me.
  Note To All Future Baby-Making People: No, I'm not that interested in pictures of your child's first spit-up or a long story about how your child likes to suck on his own knuckles, but I do find the bigger moments in your child's life pretty cool. Just because I don't have any my own kids yet doesn't mean that I'm totally heartless.
  (...he said, as he prepared himself for lengthy tales in the comments section about Barney's child's boobies.)
BEST PART. Kurt's, Hurts, 2 Second Poem, Kiddie Tales, Moving On, Busy Business, C-Span, and Best Part.
  Wedding Update: After picking out a florist last week, we're looking at honeymoon places. First choice: the Bahamas. Yeeeeeeah. Sun, booze, ocean, casino, golf. Couldn't ask for much more.
KURT'S. HURTS.
  Oddly enough, Beth's favorite basketball player from her childhood was Kurt Rambis. Yes, I said Kurt Rambis. You know, that big goofy glasses-wearing gangly motherfucker. She was Kurt's fan. Why? Well, according to her, she liked him because he was sort of the underdog player on the Lakers during their championship years. Everyone else loved Magic and Kareem, so Beth thought she'd become a fan of the lesser-known Kurt Rambis.
  Huh. Okay.
  And just how did this little nugget of information find its way into our conversation? Well, Beth and I were talking about which geometrical shapes we'd like to be and she said she'd like to be a rhombus because it reminds her of Kurt Rambis and I said I'd prefer to be a triangle because then I could buy really small shirts.
  Just normal dinner conversation, you know.

     

  2000-2005 by gja.