A remake of Family Affair with Tim Curry as Mr. French? That almost can’t help being interesting. And being cancelled before Mrs. Beasley is even good and broken in…
Damn. A 5.2 earthquake. Just a few minutes ago. Something glass crashed in my apartment, but I can’t find what it was. A little rumbling and then it got bigger. Not really big, but it lasted a long time, and just as I was getting concerned, it stopped…
A few minutes later: I won. I got my story up minutes before the AP or SF Gate. So there. Now if the TV news would just shut the hell up about it…
I have an idea for a business which might only work in San Francisco. I propose to start a protest consulting service…
Need to make a suitably indignant statement about some grave corporate evil, but finding yourself without the time nor energy to spend on it? Call me. I’ll arrange the inflammatory banners, print the vague handbills which basically give no information about the issue, and hire the homeless guys to annoy passers-by with them in front of whichever downtown office you choose…
For an extra fee, I might even come up with a theme protest. With costumes and balloons…
On any given day, there are probably at least five to ten protests being staged (and largely being ignored) in San Francisco. I figure I could make a fortune as long as I could pretend to give a crap about “the cause” long enough to get the contracts signed. Could be even more lucrative if I could score some counter-protests too, as long as I were organizing both sides…
Whaddaya think?
I’ve had the hardest time dragging my ass out of bed this week. I’m not sure if it’s the fact that I’ve been staying up a little later or the fact that my part-time job seems more soul-sucking and mind-numbing than usual this week. Or both…
But it’s only two days now until life gets much better, at least for the weekend. I can’t remember ever having such a compelling reason to look forward to the weekend. And those of you who are getting sick of this whole romance thing might want to skip this new essay where I revisit several assupmtions from an older one and contemplate the next step, as it were…
And no, I shan’t be waiting in line to see the new Star Wars movie at 12:01 AM. Here’s an admission: I haven’t experienced a single Star Wars movie since I saw the original at the now-demolished Janus Theatre in Greensboro way back in 1977. Not on TV, not on video, not at all. Wow. It felt good saying that…
Awww. A pride rant after my very own heart. Don’t worry, pumpkin. I’ll offer you safe haven…
The satellite guy’s here. He’s not particiularly appealing, so there will be no pornographic fantasy stories. I just hope he gets the set-up right at this point…
Fucking Pacific Bell. I’ve now had problems with my voicemail for the third time. The alert tone goes out so I don’t know I have new messages. I don’t even realize it’s going on until I just happen to call in to check messages from someplace else and I’m surprised to find I have about 12 of them backed up from the past three or four days, some of them semi-urgent…
Sometimes I hate technology…
There’s something kind of wonderful about catching a 35-year-old episode of “Hollywood Squares” right before bed. And something a little sad about realizing that the vast majority of the assorted squares are dead. The world would be a better place if Wally Cox were still around. I know it would…
My evening would be much better if a certain someone were around too…
Have I ever mentioned my theory about how Steely Dan may be the greatest American musical phenomenon ever?
Had a rare phone conversation with Becky tonight, and also talked to Duncan. Which means I’ve spent longer chatting on the phone in the past two hours than in the past two weeks. Despite my phone phobia, this is a good thing. Sometimes, text-only format leaves something to be desired…
And now I’m going to bed. Sleep seems more exciting even than Wally Cox tonight…
It was a long, annoying, shitty, rotten day. A happy surprise was needed, and it came in the form of Viva Rock Vegas, which was considerably better than I thought it would be when I didn’t see it in the theatre a year or two back…
I’ll stop talking about my satellite soon, I promise, but I have to have some sort of entertainment now that summer’s coming and the nights are starting to get colder…
Note to those unfamiliar with San Francisco weather: that last statement was NOT meant to be ironic…
Damn Yahoo Mail indeed. My second technological breakdown of the week. And that’s not counting all the ones at work…