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United States, California, San Francisco, The Mission, English, Spanish, Casey, Male, 31-35.

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Thursday, June 26, 2003

Cancellation Notice.

In the late Eighties, I wanted to tour the US, committing a felonious act in each state, preferably with a resident there, and would document each act with photos. At the time, there were 27 states I was going to visit, but I just kept putting it off...by the late-Nineties, the number had shrunk to a mere 13. But due not to lack of interest but to extenuating circumstances, The Sodomy Tour has been cancelled.

...though I suppose we could still go take the pictures. Now where'd I put that map?

09:06 AM PST (link)

Wednesday, June 25, 2003

Poisoned!

A short summary of my thoughts during my morning commute:

"Hot today, I should take off my jack—WHOA! HE'S HOT! I'D TOTALLY DO HIM! WATCH IT, ASSHOLE, I'M CROSSING THE STREET HERE!—There's the ATM, do I need any mon—FUCK! HE'D LOOK REALLY SEXY NAKED! SHIT! HUNDREDS OF SCHOOLCHILDREN ON MUNI! DON'T EVEN GET ON MY DAMN TRAIN!—[ahem]...my goodness, I'm tired of this cold; I hate the snif—OH, WOOF DADDY! MOVE IT LAME-ASS, I'M LATE!—I'd better stop for a muffin on my way in to—WHOA! CHECK OUT THAT GUY IN THE TANK TOP! OH HELL YEAH BABY! HEY LOOK OUT, BITCH, GET YOUR CAR OUT OF THE DAMN CROSSWALK!—[whimper.]"

OK, what wiseguy spiked my coffee with testosterone?

10:20 AM PST (link)

Monday, June 23, 2003

Hello, I Must Be Going.

I have a perfectly round bruise on my knee from where it was compressed into the seat in front of me for six and a half hours. I have the sniffles (downgraded from a seriously sore throat) from the cold that The Boyfriend's father gave me. I have color on my arms from forgetting to wear sunscreen on the overcast but not rainy day we spent wandering between various museums around the Mall. I will not go into specifics regarding my lower digestive tract, but will merely state that activity there has been unusual. I have finally sorted through the 600 pieces of spam email that came to my home account and 100 pieces which came to my work address in the past week. And worse yet, I am yet again sitting in my office (I assume this is my office, isn't it?) trying desperately to remember what it is that I do—rather like what happens most Monday mornings, only moreso.

In short, I have returned. I was only reduced to drinking Starbucks coffee once during our trip. I hope that I've performed penance enough for that. Did I miss anything?

12:33 AM PST (link)