2/12/98 -- OK, so my little veganism experiment didn't work out.  Not only did I forget to realize that almost all my shoes contain suede or leather, I also realized that my belts are made out of leather.  I can't go beltless or else my pants would fall down around my ass.  So cows will suffer instead.  Wow, making the switch to veganism, even part-time veganism, definitely takes money and thought.  Maybe it's all part of the capitalist plot to keep up eating meet and using animal products.  I'm just a mindless consumer pawn in their sick vicious money games.        In any case, I was a vegan's nightmare yesterday, or rather, McDonald's was.  29 cent hamburgers on Wednesdays!  Before the game, we got 20 burgers in a sack for six bucks.  And this was a sack -- I didn't realize McDonald's has sacks that big.  Like a grocery sack.  Yeah, so we walk out of there with practically a cow in a bag, go to 7-11 and get a 12-pack of Coors Lite, and then me, Das, Paul and James sit in the parking lot of the Federal Building and drink and eat.  Actually, some dude from Colorado needed help with his car, so James and Paul volunteered to help.  Nice church boys.  Still didn't get the car to run.  Surprise Das didn't ask the dude if he knows John Elway.  Or where South Park is.  Das ought to move to Colorado.          James also lets the guy borrow his cel phone to call his friend Conan.  Conan wasn't home, he musta been fighting orks or something.  What a weird name for you child -- Conan.  Is it Irish (like Conan O'Brien)?  I hope people don't name their kids after the comic book guy.  Actually, I dunno, in a way it's cool.  Maybe I'll name my kids Hulk and Mr. Fantastic.  "Hulk, put that down right now and come to the dinner table!".  Yeah, Hulk can be the jock son I want, and Mr. Fantastic can be the brainy son I want.  Oh, and the bright, gorgeous-yet-virgin-until-she's-married daughter can be...uh, I dunno, Wonder Woman?        So anyway, we get back in the car and consume beer and burgers on the way to the Forum.  Irie Webber and Juwan were out, so we went to the Lake show to see Kobe and Shaq.  First NBA game, other than a lame-o exhibition I saw once in SD.  Definitetly a lot more fun in person, just like football.  You know what?  I really see cheerleaders as a necessity now.  During time-outs, I just sat there and looked at the cheerleaders.  Everyone did.  I was enthralled by the notion that they change their outfits every quarter.  Oh, to be in that locker-room. They should be paid more -- to keep in that kind of shape and  have 15 or 20 thousand fat lonely men and horny kids ogle you requires more compensation.            Speaking of cheerleaders, Patrick Ewing's gettin' a divorce from his wife cuz he's seen some cheerleader.  Or that's what I heard. It pays to be a basketball player.  No matter how freakish you might look, you might be married, you might even look like a Big Monkey -- you can still get the honies.          Oh yeah, on Tuesday nite I went down to the store and stole a buncha candy bars.  Ok, 4.  I had this weird urge to do it, so I did.  It's weird, I haven't stolen anything since I was 14, but now that I'm poor, I was like "Man, I want candy bars, I can't afford em', so I'll steal em'."  So I just stuffed em' in my jackets pockets and walked out.  OK, actually I grabbed some, walked to the toy section, pretended to look at action figures and stuffed em' in my pockets.  It's so easy!  I'm surprised everyone doesn't do it.  And in a weird way, I can now relate to po' people who steal.  I mean, if you're hungry, and you want something, you'll fucking do shit you normally wouldn't do like steal in order to get it.  Right?  Being poor can drive someone nuts.  Even more so than being horny.  You can lose all rationality -- I totally didn't think about the consequences of being caught, I just took em'.  I even had my weed and hash on me, so I'd be looking at another misdemeanor if I'd gotten busted for that.  What a fucking idiot!  Yeah.          Hey, I found out in Texas. at least, possession of five pounds of weed for a first-timer is guaranteed not to result in prison time.          I've never been a breast-man.  For me, it's all about girls with the bodies of 10-year old boys -- no butt, no big boobies, just nice and thin.  No, I don't want hairless nuts, you sickos.  Anyhow, yesterday in my seminar class I'm sitting next to this girl who always wears tight shirts.  Yesterday was no exception to the shirt rule, and so we're sitting there listening to some grad student guest-lecturing on pneumonia outbreaks in LA, and I look over and notice she has the nicest boobies.  I completely tuned out of the lecturer and tuned in to this girl's breasts.  All I remember thinking is, "Are they as big as softballs?  Maybe 2/3 the size of softballs.  Big oranges?..."  If she was white, or Asian for that matter, I might think fake -- they were so perky.  But she's a sista, so it's gotta be real.  Before yesterday, I thought she was kind of cute.  Now it's all about the boobies.  She's got boyfriend, so I don't have to sweat myself for not doing anything about it.  Still, sista can't resist ya'.        I wish I could remember my dreams -- I had a dream last nite that this girl dumped her boyfriend for me -- a cute girl, too!  She looked like this girl Sharon that I lusted after for years.  I wonder if she knew?  Probably not.  Anyhow, in the dream she was dating some hick-hillbillly sort, so she left him for me!  She looked just like Sharon, except her name was Sandra.  Whatever, it was just a dream -- if she's dumping her boyfriend, even a hick, for me, it's gotta be a dream.  Wish drugs could help you remember dreams.  Actually, the weed I've been smoking since I've been back in LA totally kills my memory.  I can hardly  remember anything the next day -- what I did, where I went, what I ate...        You know, I think my life could be a lot more productive and fruitful if I hung around people from high school more often.   Not people still in high school, but people I went to high school with (although I'd probably score more with people still in high school -- so it would be more fruitful..).  I always have a more wholesome or positive image of people from high school than of people I go to college with.  My mind is still rooted in my perception of high school friends and acquaintances.  I guess I still look up to them as good, productive young minds.  In college, most of the friends I made...aren't, good productive young minds.  And neither am I.