Rich People Are Super Funny

So, there's this restaurant across the bay from the city, where you sit on a gigantic patio over the water, and all these people with yachts dock their boats. The hills around are studded by enormous, incredible homes with vast expanses of plate glass reflecting the bay back on itself.

And the tables are filled with all kinds of people -- families, tourists, gawkers, gliterati -- many, many of whom are very, very drunk.

The best part, though, are the boats docked on the water -- groups of drunk, barely-dressed teens on daddy's boat, overtanned women barely standing, dogs in life jackets --

and this:



Yah! Poverty TOTALLY SUCKS, Y'ALL!! Where is that goddamn waiter with the pina colada?

My personal quote of the day

In saying goodbye to my dad, "Have fun roping cattle!"

It's one of those things you say in pure sincerity, and then you think, "That was kind of weird."

The man does rope cattle, though. That's what he and my step mom do for fun. Photographic evidence, here -- the fifth and sixth picture down.

Cowboy school. Weirdos.

It's funnier if you read it in the voice of Judy Tenutia*

I was having this fit of nostalgia for my olden days, so I popped in the second (after Run Lola Run) DVD I ever bought, Fight Club.

It's still sharp and dark, a little less cutting-edge than it used to be, but the part that really shakes my suspension of disbelief comes in the film so goddamn early -- before the dildo in the luggage even comes up.

It's the part where he goes to the doctor? And the doctor scoffs and declares, "You need healthy, natural sleep. Chew some Valerian root," that really just makes it impossible for me to buy. I mean, the whole film is kind of predicated on the idea that he cannot get sleeping pills, despite his debilitating, making him have single-frame-flashes-of Tyler-Dur den-over-the-copy-machine insomnia.

In the last three weeks, I've seen a doctor and a dentist (and an eye doctor -- new insurance, y'all). The doctor listened to me bitch about a back pain (albeit EFFING AWFUL) and prescribed me vicodin and muscle relaxers. The dentist saw my eyes streaming with tears and gave me painkillers and MORE muscle relaxers, to help me stop grinding my jaw when I sleep.

I have four bottles of hardcore drugs in my medicine cabinet, and this guy can't get an ambien?

Lame.

PS: Sarah and I saw this move (second run) at Davis Theater at some point in the 1990s. I told her, "I just want Edward Norton to come down off that screen and date me."

She still thinks that's funny.

*this is how I am currently entertaining myself. By imagining everyday crap in the voice of JT. Maybe punctuated by her strumming that ukulele or whatever stringed instrument it was she used as a foil.

Complicated Proposal

Last night, while out imbibing with a few friends, we were joined at the bar table by a very drunk man wearing sunglasses, who announced that it was his birthday.

Him: FAIIIVE - FOUR! FAIIIVE - FOUR! IT's MAH BIRRRRTHDAY!
Us: Um, happy birthday. That seat's taken.
Him: MY BIRTHDAY!
Us: Please leave us alone.
Him: (Getting up to leave) YOU BETTER GO TO BED! GO TO SLEEP! AH'M GONNA FUCK YOU UP IN YOUR DREAMS LIKE FREDDY KRUEGER!

In my opinion, that's way better than your run-of-the-mill threat. That's a threat that takes some supernatural logistics management.

Be Jealous.

Y'all! I almost forgot! I live a short bus ride from the ocean!

Anne and I played in the ruins of the bathouse and went playing in the waves at ocean beach. There was sand and salt and sun. Total living on vacation day.

Flowers, stat.

Skipped the farmer's market the last couple of weeks. . . needed a serious flower infusion.

Enter, the poppies. Bursting out of their crazy furry pods within an hour of me putting them in a vase. Unfurling and shedding big furry casings on the table. Brilliantly-hued and tissue paper fragile.

Phew, man. I was suffering a serious gorgeousness defeciency, lately.