2/08/98 -- Oh my Buddha.  So sore.  I went out to this Mongolian noodle house on Wilshire with Das to watch the All-Star game.  Had a few beers, then at half-time we ate.  We kept eating until the game was over.  Das and I are pretty experienced at the Mongolian noodle game, so we know how to pack the meat in (mm, heh-heh) before we add the noodles and veggies.  And I had all I-could-eat frozen yogurt.  Holy Shinto, I couldn't move.  Then when Das was dropping me off back at the Sty, he yelled to me to make sure and buy Clipper-Wizards tickets (no, I can't afford em').  So as I turned to acknowledge him, I slipped on the wet ground and landed flat on my ass.  I musta looked like Jean-Claude after he took on Zito.  I'm ok from that, but I think I hit my thumb hard.  That's the only thing that's sore.  Well, and my belly from all those noodles and meat.          See, there's two Mongolian places around here -- one in Westwood, where they only give you one bowl after cooking em', and the one on Wilshire, where they normally give you two bowls.  But Das was telling me that Albutt can stack his noodles so that he gets three bowls.  Albutt's the mack of that sorta thing.  He's smart.  I wonder if Mongolians actually eat this stuff?  I always assumed they ate stuff like grain and yak milk.        Man, Kobe Bryant is something.  Das is going a little overboard on the Kobemania, but not by much.  OK, he's a ball hog whose shot selection is horrific, and the All-Star game is a glorified pick-up game, and Kobe didn't deserve to start.  But homes' has got some crazy insane hops and a nice touch.  That alley-oop from KG was -- dare I say -- magnificent.  The NBA is too diluted, though -- oops, I'm doing a sports rant.  I'm thinking about doing a separate little journal for my sports rants.  But I got a lot of other things I wanna do before I start wasting time with that.        No, I didn't look for a job anymore.  It's been friggin' raining!  Yes, I've already been wussified by being back here in LA, but still -- it's a big pain as it is getting anywhere without a car in LA.  Trying to get somewhere without a car in LA in the rain is damn near impossible,  and really unpleasant, to boot.  So what did I do?        OK, I admit it -- I surrendered and had a J -- a leftover roach from my birthday.  Plus a mini-J I rolled for myself.  Real mini.  Don't worry, I learned something from it -- smoking by myself really sucks, especially when I don't have a Playstation or computer.  I just sat there and got really anxious, and kept eating.  I ate cookies from Didi Reese, I ate ramen, I ate candy bars -- I even ate Ragu out of the bottle.  And it wasn't even my Ragu!  When I was at Didi Reese the rain was really hammering away, so I stopped in the arcade and played a couple of games there.  Expensive and not fun.  I also didn't get any studying done -- just like I'm not doing right now.  Would you rather smoke two joints or do your homework?  Actually, I also remembered the pornos that Phil passed along to me.  I leafed through those and sat through part of a Kobe Tai porno, but that got boring.  I can totally feel my sexual energy passing out of my body.  It's sad, my sexual peak came and went.  It's all downhill from here.          Actually, noodie bars are dope when you're high.  But not when you're getting yer ass kicked -- just ask Jean-Claude.          I actually got a little writing done for the first time in a while -- oh yeah, I wanna be a writer, but nobody knows that except...well, no one.  Nicole's been eggin' me about it, but what does she know?  I ain't got no talent.  But she knows what a good joke is -- I sent her this and she, like me, laughed off her ass at the computer.