Since I don't have a computer of my own in LA, and I don't have the tools or time necessary at work to make my web site as graphically dope as possible, I'll just end up leaving it here on tripod, annoying pop-up windows and all, unless I can snag free space somewhere else, ad-free.  I would love to have my own domain for myself -- www.motherfucker.com has not been bought yet.

From Gabrielle L. Gabrielle of GabGabCamCam:

I've never heard of the Statue of Liberty described as virginal. I mean, she doesn't seem that virginal to me. In fact, compared to other countries, she's pretty easy; she lets anyone in. 

Took my mom to dinner at the Mikado, which is a steakhouse/sushi bar around here.  The parents of Sharon's ex-boyfriend from Hong Kong own the place, so I wanted to try it out.  Wuz cool -- got stuffed on sushi and paid the bill, which my mom never normally lets me do.  Luckily, after a few glasses of wine, it was easy to distract her long enough for me to drop my BA card on the check.  Damn, I'm smooth.

While having dinner, she confessed to me that she now realizes that Short Bus is seriously screwed up.  For example, she acknowledged that he has ADD (Attention Defici....hey doggie!  Nice doggie!) and that she had hoped it would have gone away by now.  My mom the R.N. for you. 

I also now miss LA radio.  One of the only two stations out here that I bother listening to mixes in some incredibly lame tracks -- dogs and cats singing, or rather barking and meowing, Christmas carols are of the too-frequently played (and requested horrors) that I've been subjected to.  The other is bizarre.  In a town obsessed with football and nothing else, I suppose it shouldn't be earth-shattering to find out they have a laughably bad "Jaguar" mix.  It blends in older hip-hop like "Brass Monkey", "The Roof is on Fire", and "Ice Ice Baby" with dance tracks and "Sweet Home Alabama," on top of Jaguar highlights, John Facenda (the voice of NFL films), and a 4-year old desperately calling out, "Go Jag-wars!" 

Last nite, the other station, a classic rock station, played back-to-back Whitesnake.

This is the hell that is my life.

I hate going to the mall and seeing people with their normal-looking lives, and then there's me all alone. I hate that as much as anything. OK, I hate enemas more, or having someone walk in when I'm in the midst of, uh, "autoeroticism" (not that either of these two have ever happened, but they just seem like particularly dreadful occurrences). Actually, my dog walked in one me once. But, uh,  nevermind.

Today I went to Jacksonhell's Ambercrombie + Fitch store -- I love Ambercrombie, and it's the one place in town when I can check out  cute Filipina honeys, b/c they work there and shop there.  I saw one today and I thought, "Damn, if she was in the Valley, she'd be picking up paychecks from Ron Jeremy."  And then I saw her friend.  Two words -- Oh Damn.  But they out of my league (everyone's out of my league.  At least I got Mr. Hand for batting practice). 

Anyhow, I'm buying a pair of pants, b/c I realized I don't have a pair of baggy olive green carpenter jeans and I needed to have one, and I was hoping that some cutie would help me at the register.  I went up to the counter. There was one pretty fair looking Asian chick working there.  She had glasses and big heels on, kind of a an immixture of the intellectual and the saucy look, both of which I like, and both of which are hard to come by in one woman, although not in  articles in Penthouse Forum.  ("Julia worked at the library.  She always seemed so quiet and hard-working, but one day in the stacks...")

Anyhow, so I'm next in line, and just as homegirl is finishing up with one customer (she's the only register open), some stupid white girl (SWG) comes and opens up another register. SWG calls "Next" and looks at me, so I trudge up, keeping my eyes on the Asian chick (she looked Taiwanese, so I'll go with that). While SWG is ringing up my jeans, I'm keep my eyes on the Taiwanese chick. She notices me, and glances back a few times, and I think "right on." I sign the card receipt, and then SWG says, "Did I put the receipt in the bag?" I reply, "Uh, I dunno." So SWG starts digging through the bag. When she began looking for it, I realized the Taiwanese chick had said some humorous comment to me, cuz I heard her voice and when I look back at her she's looking right at me with an expectant smile on her face.  But b/c I was listening to SWG and worried about the fate of my receipt, I didn't hear her. So instead of saying, "Excuse me," or "What?" or something else equally crafty to try and elicit a conversation, I just smiled back, hoping to hell she would say something else. Instead she shrugged and went back to helping the next customer in line.  SWG then found the receipt BEHIND the register, put it in the bag and wished me a Merry Christmas. 

I wished SWG to be infested with a a particularly vicious strain of crabs.