hank williams

I was having dinner when all of a sudden, Cyndi Lauper was ringing Time After Time. Cell phone. None other than Bradford Assay asking if I want to eat a second dinner- sushi. Oi.

Not having visited Drab's place in a while, I took the L line until I hit Castro. Then I started walking up, past the Safeway, thinking it wouldn't take so long. Then my grandmother calls me. As I keep trying to listen to her, I happen to miss Oak street and end up 2 streets over on Hayes. So I retrace my steps back to Oak, look up at the street number. 710. FUCK.

I walked ELEVEN blocks westward until I finally reached Drab's place, giving him his present, card included, surprised to find that there were only 4 people in the house, including me. Leigh-ugh and Chris. Nickname to come later. I actually came up with the sugar cube and front cover the night before, cracking up at the thought of it to myself, in the dark, at 2 in the morning while trying to fall asleep because I had an 8AM class. Ugh.

Leigh-ugh: girl-appropriate shoes. Nice light brown. Approved.

Chris: Drab's friend. Oddly enough, I approved. Whilst his voice, when raised to a nasally high pitch reminded me of that Brian fellow with the emo glasses from Jones, his receding hair and beer belly complimented his good nature. Flowing conversations, albeit mostly science-related, humorous. I don't hate him!

Drab: Another dinner, and a walk in the park. Before Beer Bike. I'll think about it.

Sushi: I think it was the bass that wasn't fresh. The rice was cooked in a pot, which wouldn't have been as efficient as a rice cooker since the steam circulates through the rice, and less of it would have been burnt. Pickled ginger- too sour, not tangy enough. But I didn't get sick- it's a step up from any dinner I've had with Drab so far. B/B+. Nooooo. B.

I will keep the Jew. And the blonde, minus the extra hair and the hipster pants.

Decided not to go barhopping tonight, although I would like to again. Maybe it's an instinctive thing to prepare for what's to come at Beer Bike. My random thought the other day was to challenge Janey to see who could kiss the most people at Beer Bike. So silly.

What I instead experienced tonight: this guy who lived all over Texas, INCLUDING Waco, was talking to these ladies about MTV (What is it with everyone our age still watching MTV?!) and this show called- yes, that's right- America's Best Dance Crew. What did he have to say about the crew Kaba Modern? "And there's the Chinese crew called something Modern. They're so sick, so awesome!" Must tell Carl Jung.

Then, when I got off at Castro, there was this drunken man kicking around a plastic ball and chain in the middle of the street, while cars are trying to drive on it. One car ended up running over the toy. No idea where the drunk passed out.

Next, I stopped at West Portal, right as the L left. This guy who supposedly had to get on it was cursing, "They're full of shit! Full of shit..." Later on he would say, "Full of caca, caca mierda. Do you know Spanish?" He wasn't talking to me.

Seeing the city from the bus atop Portola- nice. Having to smell the numerous foul odors on the bus- not so much.