Good times and butt rape - separate stories

Since I am in Strong Island this week, I had dinner with the A-Team - A-Lib, A-Nej and A-Mas - at Jackson's, a tasty America-Asian-Comfort fusion restaurant. Although I do not seek out seafood, I had the salmon tonight. It was pretty damn tasty. A-Nej had the steak and fries; A-Lib had the yellow tail; and little 11-month old A-Mas had chicken strips and fries.

Also, we had a Chardonay from Long Island that redeemed the awful Cab ThumbSucker and I had a few months ago at a Manhattan restaurant.

For dessert, we shared a chocolate lava cake and key lime pie. A-Lib is into sweet and fruity-tasting foods.

Note: A-Mas is perhaps THE cutest baby you'll ever meet. When A-Mas is not making cutesy faces, she sucks her thumb. It's cute seeing a baby suck their thumb. I know it relaxes them. but it relaxes me just watching them. I repeat - it's cute to watch a BABY suck its thumb...

I really like the A-Team. More and more, they make me think what if I married my last girlfriend, and had a family... Who can say.

I look forward to the next time I travel to Strong Island, and can see my work buds at the Mothership. I told A-Nej and A-Lib that I miss the interaction of 30-40 PR peeps in one area. Till next time...

So tonight, after dinner, I go to the mini convenience store in the hotel lobby. The lady in front of me purchased a few toiletry items. Travel-sized toothbrush - $3.00. Travel-sized toothpaste - $2.50. Deodorant - $7.00. Small bottle of hairspray - $10. Saying, "I want to talk with your manager... You don't have the right to rape hotel guests...You can't rape us..." - priceless.

Seriously, the shop wanted to charge me $5 for a small bottle of water. I said screw it. So, so lame.

I gots yo' back, brotha

D-Sheezie is having hosting her 25th-birthday party at Butter, with the theme "Euro Trash." And as I always look out for my buds, naturally, I asked DannyGT if he wants to go.

me: Straight chicks are going to this... Let me know if you're up for going.
DannyGT: You almost had yourself a date. I like it though. 1 - women, 2 - close to my house, 3 - trashy, 4 - far enough out that usually I could plan for it. Unfortunately, I'm going to the Bloc Party concert at Berkeley's Greek Theater. Let's grab dinner sometime soon though...

The last themed party I attended was "Golf Pros and Tennis Hoes," hosted by my old intern - a closeted homo who thought he was in the closet. (This guy hosted a party without ice for the drinks. And the only food served was Triscuts?!?!)

I'm not a golf pro, nor a tennis ho. I'm a tennis pimp, see the pictures below.

So you had a bad week... You were broadsided... You fell down the stairs... So you had a bad week.

I am in Long Island this week, visiting the Mothership, so ThumbSucker sent me a picture of Fionnbharr.

TEXT MESSAGE
The Biting Thing on the stairs.















In other news... No this is not my car. It's 2Pay's. Or, it was 2Pay's. He purchased the nearly identical car one week after I got mine two years ago.

Today, ThumbSucker sent me a picture message from his Treo 700P (Sprint network). 2Pay was in a car accident.

TEXT MESSAGE
ThumbSucker: 2Pay just got hit at Guerrero and 15th by a guy who ran a red light. His client who was in the car got rushed to hospital. What a week.

Not only that, but ThumbSucker's other friend -- who we'll call BellyDancer (because she can belly dance) -- fell down a flight of stairs, and broke her back. ThumbSucker brought her to SF General Hospital, then to Kaiser. There, doctors implanted an epidural IV... Into her back. Goodness. She is in an incredible amount of pain, the doctors setup a morphine drip. Every six minutes, BellyDancer presses a button, and the good stuff is released into her system.

That song, "So You Had a Bad Day" doesn't come close to ThumbSucker's week, or year for that matter.

A Canuck said the darnest thing, part deux

So I talked with CanuckBE earlier today, and without disappointment, he said one of his isms.

"Yeah, this is a big boner project for them..."

I couldn't make this stuff up if I wanted to. Well, maybe I could have five or six years ago when I had a sailor mouth.

"Fire" Island

Try to explain this one...

Last night I dreamt about "Fire Island." This is not New York's fabulous Fire Island, a favorite summertime vacation destination, but rather an island formerly called Angel Island, which suffered an earthquake and fires that burnt the four mile by four mile plot of land home to 4,000 people. Hence, the name was changed to "Fire Island."

I do not recall where the island was located, but it is not San Francisco, where there is an Angel Island. Are you confused yet?

What was bizarre about this dream is Fi (old work buddy from the 650 Edel-clan), Charlie's Angel (work buddy in New York), a few others and I toured the burnt island to survey the damage for clean-up work. From initial TV news reports from a helicopter, no one survived. We didn't expect to see anyone...

We rode a boat to the "Fire Island" marina. From the marina, we rode on the back of a large pickup truck -- through ash and debris -- passing what once was a Target store and a strip mall... But stopped when we found survivors.

We found them on a ferris wheel, and they looked pretty beat. When we offered them food, and help to leave the island, they looked at us strangely and approached us as if they would not allow us to depart the island.

I remember our team ran back to the truck, and tried to escape, but the debris and hot ash punctured and melted the tires. We had no choice but to run back to the boat.

I do not recall anything about the dream after that. Bizarre.

Interesting conspiracy theory

www.loosechange911.com

Be warned - the video is one hour and twenty minutes long. You can watch the video on Google Video here: http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=-8260059923762628848.

This sure puts some doubt out there, and raises more questions about what happened.

Adding to the handful of pills

This sounds promising...

IM CONVO
ThumbSucker: so I am being given a new prescription that will make me not feel so sick and have more energy :)
me: cool. what is it?
ThumbSucker: pro something
me: cool. whatever it is, it can't be bad, right? what are the side effects?
me: insomnia? profuse sweating? bad breath? bigboy appetite? hives?
ThumbSucker: : )
ThumbSucker: it should make me less tired, and not have these temperature swings that I have had. also should help stop the vomiting and dizzy spells.
ThumbSucker: I have to take iron tablets also
me: small price to pay to feel better... maybe it contains meth. kidding.

I realized I crack too many jokes about meth. Is this bad? Granted meth is a serious problem... And perhaps I should not be too light-hearted about it.

This reminds me of 1997 to 2000, when I used to own the website/domain name www.smokingcrack.com... Once, I received an email from a lady who took care of babies of crack cocaine-dependent "parents." She ripped into me, bigtime, stating that my choice of domain name reflects my lack of sensitivity to a problem I obviously did not comprehend.

She was correct that I didn't understand the problem crack cocaine brought to a city. But she was wrong about me being insensitive... I just liked the domain name. And at this time, I invite you to visit www.virtualcrack.com, to virtually send someone a baggie of your favorite flavored rock.

If my references to meth offends you, then let me know. I'll probably tell you to deal with it.

Driving these days

For the past two weeks, I've been driving much slower. 70 to 75 mph versus 90 to 95 mph on the freeway, and no more than 5 to 10 mph over the speed limit on city streets. Why? Because I no longer want to be in a hurry.

Granted I like speed (velocity, not meth). I get a rush from zipping around... I become excited. But as of late, my nearly sedate driving style allows me to watch everyone zip past. On the freeway, I hang with other right-lane and second to the right-lane drivers. And it's OK. It's OK. I didn't realize how fast I used to drive... 90 to 100 mph on highway 280 feels comfortable.

The new commuter
The other week, I purchased a 1987 Porsche 944 Turbo from my mechanic (late-50s Italian guy named Al). It was a great deal - a nearly 20 year-old car with less than 82,000 miles. You do the math.

Unfortunately, the previous owner of the car, which has been with one family since the original purchase, has a wife who no longer wanted him to drive the car after the cost of the recent work performed - new clutch, front and rear brakes, master brake cylinder, new water pump and a few other items. So I purchased the car for the amount of the parts and labor.

The best part of the 944 is that it uses regular 87-octane fuel (and it has nearly 100 more horses than the 190E), because 91-octane, premium fuel -- at $2.55 to $2.75 a gallon -- for the C230 is killing me. (I drive 130-miles round-trip to and from the office.) I was filling the tank after 2.5 trips.

Now I need to sell the old 190E commuter. It's been fun. Gutless, but fun.

But I find it odd that driving a (20 year-old) 2-door sports car is the reason I changed my driving style. Granted my one-way commute to and from the office now takes an additional 10 minutes, but I do not mind. It's OK. Really.

MACSD - mothers against crack-smoking and driving
On my drive back to the loft yesterday, I saw an eradic driver in an old burnt orange-color Saab. He was swerving within his lane and at times crossing over the lane divider. He was not speeding, but was obviously cracked-out on something. I slowed down to 55 mph because I knew very soon he would hit someone. And I didn't want to be nearby. Approximately three minutes passed, and traffic came to a brake-screeching halt. After crawling in traffic for half a mile, I drove past the burnt-orange Saab. The driver was just exiting his vehicle. He was fine, but the front end of his car was *totaled*. He hit a full size truck that received significant damage to the rear quarter panel. Goodness... Don't smoke crack and drive.

Babs

Last night I dreamt Babs and I attended a party at a house, and were the last to leave. She walked using a walker. I walked her to a pimped-out Volkswagen Eurovan, then she talked about all the engine and suspension performance modifications she made.

I miss Babs.

What can I do?

Over the weekend, ThumbSucker and I completed watching Sex in the City. In just more than one month, we watched all six seasons of the show on DVD. In the sixth season, Samantha learned that she had breast cancer, and it was almost painful for ThumbSucker to watch.

What's painful to watch is ThumbSucker when he's not feeling or looking well. He's on a handful of meds that supposedly help him, but from what I can see, he is tired and fatigued, yacking, has headaches, and sometimes does not want to get out of bed. But he forces himself to be productive. And I'll force him to keep as busy as possible. But what else should I do? I do not have a clue as to what I should do, and I feel like an asshole because I push him to not slow down as I fear he will not return to some state of normal.

IM CONVO
ThumbSucker: One other thing I didn't tell you that I probably should have.
me: and that is?
ThumbSucker: So my father died of a rare degenerative brain cancer - my biggest fear through all of this has been that this is somewhat related. They don't know if there is any link or not. That's partly why this has been really hard, I saw my dad have a very slow, very painful, very sad illness and death. He wasn't aware for the last six months what was going on etc.
me: but he was much older.
me: so what is the latest? do you have lymphoma, or not?
ThumbSucker: in theory I don't know - chemo has taken care of that, but I still have something wrong with my brain, maybe a small tumor that they can't see. The issue with the brain is that there seems to be limited things they can diagnose while you are still alive. For example, my father's true condition was determined when they did analysis of his brain after he died.
me: and what did they learn? and more importantly, what did you and your family learn?
ThumbSucker: just that it was a rare degenerative cancer but from what I understand from them there is no easy test for it. there is no direct link that the doctors here can make based on what I told them so it may not be related but they don't have access to his medical records.
me: why do they not have access to the records?
ThumbSucker: Different jurisdictions, Irish medical records are sealed.
ThumbSucker: there is some gene-based testing that will be available within the next couple of years that can tell if you have the gene that makes you a higher risk for having it.
me: so what is your doc's recommendation?
ThumbSucker: continue to evaluate blood tests and take MRIs to see if any other indications develop as well as additional testing that will be available in the future
ThumbSucker: as well as continue on certain drugs to reduce risk of strokes or seizures.
ThumbSucker: I guess the kind of headaches I get put me at higher risk for early stroke.
me: ugh. goodness.
ThumbSucker: anyway, sorry to unload this all on you but I thought I should tell you this also.
me: thanks. it's late, but thanks.
ThumbSucker: to be honest, in all of this my fear isn't of dying. my fear is that I would end up like my father not knowing for months what was going on and having no control.
me: but that would be years from now. And when you're in, then you're in it... and you do not have control.
ThumbSucker: the sad thing though is you have some lucid periods. I think there were days when my dad would have some idea because he would cry.
me: ugh. sad.
me: what would you want to do at that period? again, keep in mind that you're years away from this.
ThumbSucker: if I knew I would get it I would want out on my own terms - that whole decline is too much to put yourself through as well as those around you.
me: i'm the same way. i'd fight it for as long as i could. but if things took a quick dive... then i'd say laters.
ThumbSucker: I also can't tell the whole picture to my family because it would be pointless stress that they couldn't do anything about.
ThumbSucker: part of it is that it's a cycle - they worry about it stressing me and they think the stress is the main cause of the increased headaches.
ThumbSucker: they only reason I mentioned I might be sick to my brother was that I didn't want them to be completely stunned if it turned bad quickly and something happened to me.

Dreams

Last night I had a very, very odd three-part dream.

Part one
ThumbSucker and I owned a Victorian house in San Francisco, and we were interested in purchasing a condo unit next door. The tenant of the unit was a very odd mid-20s Japanese student. As he would continue to rent the unit after we purchased it, I want to determine how he maintained the living area. For some reason, I brought my step-mother and my father's sister with me. Upon entering the living area, I saw large, bowling ball-size, flying creatures - some organic and amoeba-looking, others more insect-like. I guess they were his pets?

Part two
I was in a community college classroom, which was located on a beach. The tide was high, and the waves came into the parking lot. Was this due to global warming? I was frustrated with the class for some reason, and I went outside to throw softball-size lemons into the classroom to "freshen it up." What frustrated me was sitting between two teenage girls who talked to no end about boy bands.

Part three
I participated in a radio interview about social values. On the panel was a conservative pundit, a NPR reporter, a 60-something mother of eight, and me. I remember talking about the spread of conservative right-wing values in society, starting in schools, in the workplace, the movie theaters, TV programming, billboard signs, and fast food restaurants, among other venues. It was odd. I prepared a diagram that showed a timeline of how long it takes to push a message takes to the receiver at each venue. The mother called my presentation a conspiracy. The conservative pundit didn't have a response; and the NPR reporter just sat there and looked pretty... Pretty bored.

The interview took place on an unoccupied beach, with the exception of a two dancing elephants on an elevator. Both elephants were dressed, and swishing their bums. It was very odd, and distracting. At that time, the conservative pundit lashed out with a rebuttal. I was caught off guard.

ThumbSucker's dream
Fionnbharr danced on his two hind legs, and the San Francisco Chronicle came to the loft to photograph him. Odd.

Other odd dreams
As of late, I had several dreams of one of my ex-bfs. One dream was naughty, while another one was in a social setting. WTF?