Date from Friday night is not further interested. Fortunately I am too busy to do more than go, “Hm, damned shame.”
This is a paragraph about how one woman can say to another “Maybe what I need is an 8 inch sub!” and we’re not talking sammitch.
It’s 7:15 and I’ve talked to two gf’s in Ontario already! Hugs to Tammy, Hugs to Chipper.
Last night Patricia came with me to the Jericho. She paid her eight dollars to get in but only watched me and two other performers, then went back out on the deck where she found a table with two good looking (merrit of course) middle aged men who didn’t want to finish their beer. Christ, they could have had no conversation at all and I would have liked them under those circumstances. After we left (and I sang the song I wrote for LTGW at the top of my lungs in Jericho Park) she told me that I was far superior to the other performers and it was worth the 8 bucks to hear me sing Slimfast and Methadone. OF COURSE this does not need to be true for me to be irrationally pleased. It was a very fun evening and I laughed my ass off.
Keith’s birthday books arrived on Monday and with his permission I devoured them. It’s good to have maps of the action in the Patrick O’Brian books.
Colin’s visit was a very low key success. He took a lot of self portraits with my laptop, some of which were quite startlingly funny. I wanted to post one with the title “How I lowered my IQ 45 points without even trying” but I don’t have his permission, and I’d flog somebody that posted a pic of me like that, so discretion prevails.
Mike M called from Wreck Beach yesterday…. if I hadn’t committed to go to Jericho, I would have gone to Wreck in a heartbeat, ’twas a glorious day.
Work bites the parasite riddled butt of a moribund goat and it’s going to stay like this all summer. Fortunately there is a point at which things will twitch feebly back into their previous configuration or something like it, so I am trying to be philosophical. In fact that about covers my life right about now “Trying to be philosophical”!