If I was 8 years old today would be one of those days where I'd convince my mom that I was still a little too sick to go back to school. Then after everyone went to work it'd be M.C. Hammer and "The Fall Guy" 'til after 5, baby!
I would tell you about the ape women and how work tested me and how I bested it like Conan the Fuckbarian; but, I don't think so ... Because it's 3-day weekend time, baby! Party over here! Party over there! Throw your hands in the air like you's a true playa! All the ladies say "Heeey"!
Today I've been in the mood for music from my high school days. So, it's been The Beastie Boys' "License to Ill" and Ice Cube's "Death Certificate".
Went out to eat downtown last night with R. Girl. I treated her to a lil' spaghetti dinner (the worst I've ever had, my meat sauce was PINK!) b/c for some reason we have to reward people for getting a new car. It still makes more sense than tipping your hairdresser, I guess ("Here's a tip, throw in a rubdown and we'll talk about cash. Got it, sweets?"). We went to a popular restaurant down by the place where they filmed "The Real World: Seattle". While we waited for a table we looked for "party boat" and watched dolphins swimming in the exact spot where Stephen slapped Irene! And for you Seattle-ites, you know where I ate. Yes, I sold out, but the convenience factor was so convenient.
The table next to us was this hyper-nuclear family with 5 little kids. Three of them were singing this song that had only one line, but that was stuck in my head for the rest of the night.
"I love my Chi--nese food".
One little girl would only say "I hate my Chi--nese food". I agreed, but mine was spaghetti.
The other kid was this dark-haired ugly fatty in the midst of these blonde haired Heidi clones. Damn, it has to suck not to look like the rest of your family AND be the ugly one ... Kyle?
I had awesome dreams last night! The one I clearly remember was being at a restaurant eating with some random people I know when all of a sudden a younger Ronald Reagan comes up and says "B-Man why don't you look me up when you're in Chicago next week so we can catch up".
"Cool, Reagan," I said, "Why don't you call up General Patton and we'll all go grab a beer."
"Sounds good, I gotta run," said Ronny.
I felt like the diplomatic shit.
An overheard story from today:
"Do you like my purse? My house cleaner brought it back for me from Uraguay. She's such a wonderful woman. She's so sweet and tries so hard to get ahead. I do what I can to help her out, because she has a hand in my home ... I mean my heart." I thought the first one was much more honest. Fuck yeah, take care of the people who have hands in your home. Otherwise, you might wake up missing a Playstation2 one day.
Well, I think it's time for me to get this party started B-styley. I'll holla at a dork. Damn, I feel hip hop. Where's my Kangol hat?
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