GIANT RED FLASHING BLINKING EMERGENCY LIGHTS GIANT RED FLASHING BLINKING EMERGENCY LIGHTS GIANT RED FLASHING BLINKING EMERGENCY LIGHTS

Strangest phone call ever in the history of the human eardrum happened tonight.

To make a long story short I called a phone number that kept appearing in my new calls folder, even though I didn’t know who it was. I dialed back the number. Turns out the girl on the receiving end of the line was from South Carolina, by way of my state, then by way of my county, then, by more conversation, by way of my high school. Then, by way of the sister of a good friend. She, by the way, did not initiate the call. The number was relayed to me.

No, I’m not dumb.

It was Deborah, she of the rivers of post-coital shivers.

We had a rough go as boyfriend and girlfriend in the early 90’s. I was 25, she was 19. I adored her. I think she adored me. But I was in a band with her brother-in-law and we kept having freaky sex and we were on different wavelengths – I remember getting pissed because she was tripping out at a party my band was playing. Her twin brother’s girlfriend was killed in a head-on. I didn’t go to Ohio for the funeral. We split up. The band broke up. Next thing I knew, Third Eye Blind had a hit song.

She sent me her toothbrush, but I lost it by accident. 7 years and 7 girlfriends came and went, and the came Kara. And then came the Emergency room blog entry. And then there was CG. And then this is now. This is weird. I’m sure it will end soon. Very soon. She has a son. Guess what his name is.

When was the last time you did a line?

Been a long time. It was after seeing a friend’s band at a famous Jersey Shore bar. We went back to the band’s fort and partied. I, unfortunately, had custody of a semi-retard, so it was kind of weird. We didn’t want to get him high because the neurological effects were completely unpredictable. So I left him unattended while I whipped up a realm with the band. We’d check up on him periodically, and then get high again. After a few rounds of these shenanigans, I lost him. Had he somehow found a ride home during a six hour binge? To this day I have no idea. That was my wonder. Funny thing, I was way more retarded by the end of the night then he ever could have been. Sorry. Forgot that they don’t like to be called retarded. They prefer to be called little people. Shit. I’m a little buzzed.

Listening to “Bruises”, a nice little song by a Brooklyn band called Chairlift.

myPod

Recent sonic additions new and nostalgic: Silversun Pickups (fucking rock), Mary’s Prayer by a band called Danny Wilson (Steely Dan-ish), No Myth by Michael Penn (of the talented family fronted by Sean), and Rocket by the Primitive Radio Gods (meditative, metrononish bliss.)

Cat scratch fever

OK. I’m in need of advice here. Two women who work with me had a fight last week. No clothes were torn and no boobs got exposed. Not that it would matter because I wasn’t there to see it. And only one of the two is hot.

One I’ve been working with for three years without a hitch. She doesn’t work for me. She works with me. She’s awesome and brilliant.

The other just landed on my team and seems a bit resentful that someone younger, smarter, and way more talented is her new boss. She works for me and seems to be going through an extended slacker/dim period.

Either way, I have to resolve this situation. Women aren’t like dudes, though. Guys shake hands and have a beer at the end of the day. Women seem to dream of revenge and go about to sharpen their vaginas.

At least that’s what it seems like. And I don’t want to get in the middle of a poontang buzzsaw, no matter what pornos might have you think. Any advice?

Don't ask...

Does anyone know how to get the smell of tear gas out of car upolstry?

Oh, and scissors

Got my hair cut today. It took 4 hours. Don’t ask. It involved dead batteries, thunderstorms, tornado warnings, a dazzling combination of boobs, bootie, blue eyes and eyelashes, InStyle Magazine, a girl celebrating her 2-year boyfriend anniversary, irresponsibility, frustration, no boxers, a ride to the market, a ride to the liquor store, did I mention sideways rain? Shopping like a wickedly fucked up domestic couple, pretzels with peanut butter injected into them, an urge for adventure, thin crust pizza and Blue Moon Beer. Did I mention the teeming rain? My head semi-accidently lodged in cleavage in a Honda. A girl who can drive a stick and pump a clutch. We did it all without an umbrella. Nothing like slogging into a local bar with a dripping wet beautiful woman who was born when I was 16. And then splitting a thin crust pizza. And then talking about Florida for 2 hours. While drinking Blue Moons together. These are the kind of things that happen when I decide to say, “fuck it” and just rebel against the flow.