Change of Plans 28 December 1998

Hello, hello, hello. I have no idea what time it is. I think I woke up around 8 PM. I might have gone to sleep by noon, or else I woke up earlier and then went back to sleep. There was some horrible dream about being trapped by a foot-wide black widow with fractal markings in there, so it all is a bit cloudy. In other words, life is pretty much as usual around here.

Holiday report in brief: Xmas day was long and dull, everything was closed and the only place open to get something to eat was Sparky's, where the staff was cranky and the food was lousy. I kind of felt at home. Xmas night, I went to see the Fabulous Bud E. Love's Annual Christmas Show, like there could be a semi-annual one? It was pretty good. I think I've heard too much about him, though, over-cranked expectations. He does a full-on lounge act, clearly a parody but sometimes just a bit too sincere. His Woodstock medley was funny, though. "We are fat / we are bald / we are what we are / Can you make it / haaaaaard?"

Oh fuck this. I just now spent a half hour trying to find the Bud E. Love web page, which I know exists, and getting "exact phrase" search results about girlfriends of basketball players being shot and other such useful things, until finally trying to bring up a page about the show on Microsoft's lovely sidewalk.con site crashed my whole browser. Plus on top of everything else I'm having to hit the damn escape key on this keyboard with a hammer everytime I want it to work. I'm tired of the Internet now. More later. It's not like it was that interesting anyway.

Much Later: Oh the Universe does love its little jokes, it does. Naturally, the reason I couldn't find anything was because the correct spelling of the Fabulous One's name is Bud E. Luv, not Love. And the website itself is then quite easily found at (this is hard) www.budeluv.com. A plug for Googlebot, by the way, where I finally found it, although the addition of the words "The Fabulous" in front probably helped.

This escape key still sucks, though.

Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.

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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.