Fire, Into
5 September 1998
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
|
Fire, Into
5 September 1998
|
|
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
| |
There's a brand new Toyota parked around the corner from here with a sticker in the rear window that says "Trumk Empty." I see that car in the future, safety glass shards all around, radio missing, with a new hand-lettered sign that says "Windshield Broken."
There's another party tonight - a birthday party thrown by people I've never met, for someone I don't know - but Sissy Bar is playing and my friend in the band invited a few of us to come and see the show. And it is giving me The Fear. Tiresome. At least I don't have to ask, "When did I get to be such a drag?" My life is the Golden Picture Book of Inertia. So dumb - I want to see my friend, I want to see the band play. I do, darling, really I do. But - People! Aaagh! Again. And again.
We shall see.
Oh, it was no big deal after all. I misunderstood the timing of the invitation, for one thing, so we got there just as the band had started. The set was brief, but it was a fun show. Those crazy kids. And when they finished, it was time to go home, because the party's lease on the space at Ft. Mason was only for a limited span of time.
By "go home", of course, I mean "return to the bar." So the worst aspect of the whole evening was that we bought entirely too much beer to bring to the party, and how bad is that? I mean, it's not like we had to donate it to the Park Service on the way out.
On the other hand, I think I can now say with some authority that mixing Elephant lager and Anchor Steam draft pints is a dubious idea. Ow. Fortunately, I was completely incapable of sending email, so what little reputation I have is still intact.
Ow ow. Ow.
Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| yestoday | today | tomorrowday | ||
| archive | semi-bio | |||
| listen! | random | privit | ||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
|
| ||||
| ||||
|
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
| ||||
All names are fake, most places are real, the
author is definitely
unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep.
© 1998-1999 Lighthouse for the Deaf. All rights reserved and stuff. The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne. | ||||
| ||||