No Escaping the Draft
23 August 1999
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No Escaping the Draft
23 August 1999
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9:57 PM: La. It's cold over here. On the other hand, I haven't eaten. No, it's still cold. Hello brain, how are you? I am twine, thanks.
5ive days. No, six. Saturday. Packing. Fortunately, Lucy mentioned that I might want to get a visa before I go, or they'll just put me back on the plane. Dumb century. "No, you can't come here, this country is just for special people."
Another stupid weekend. The kind of behavior I like to see, too. A girl gets mad at her boyfriend, and so spends an hour or so making out in the bar with the customary charming substance abuser friend of the temporarily absent boyfriend, who later added that special final touch by asking "hey, where's that Asian chick?" I'm very tired.
I also can't believe that Dick is gone from the theaters already. Don't I even get two weeks? No no, we had this very important Hugh Grant film to show.
God I hope this trip doesn't suck.
Not that I'm anxious or anything. No.
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. | ||||
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