3/22/98 -- Proof God hates Me #385 -- Tripod has bumped my web space to 5 megs, and Geocities (where I'm doing my soon-to-be-phat Daredevil: Born Again (yes, Dave a comic book)) has bumped it up to 6 megs.  Of course, I'm finishing school this week, and my access to the equally phat computing labs here at UCLA are in doubt.  I'd live and breath web pages for the next week to cram as much as I can in there, but of course, I have another web page (my stupid history one) to do, and that is taking nearly all of my time.  See, God hates me, even though I deny him.  Maybe it's a government conspiracy. 
     Sporting events making drinking more fun, but only when you win.  Seeing the Bruins get spanked on Friday night by Kentucky sort of killed my drinking mood (what happened to Brandon Lloyd!).  So did the Awesome Macho Grande Burrito meal (or whatever the hell it's called) from Del Taco.  1.5 lbs o' burrito and a large fries, plus potato chips and chocolate at Ramone's...I didn't even feel the three beers I drank.  I am a bulimic drinker, however; I gagged myself big time to make room for more booze for our post-game sojourn to Cliff's Hideway (C-Town white trash bar), but I couldn't even get down two drinks.  'Course, those drinks were stiffer n' blue steel.  They wuz propa'.  James and I had a mini-debate about whether one can call the crowd at Cliffee's "white-trash" or not.  I say yay, he say nay.  To him, they're just blue-collar types who we should admire, and white trash live in trailer parks.  To me, I think blue-collar types don't necessarily hang out in bars on a Friday night, looking indistinguishable from white trash, getting hammered in their t-shirts and big hair.  Maybe I am too hard on white, blue-collar types.  What really does separate them from the blue-collar working man?  I realize that they overlap.  Hoon's assertion that they are white-trash simply because they live in trailer parks doesn't fly with me.  There's something more, a kind of aesthetic.   
     Saw Wu for the first time in...a long time on Friday, too.  That was cool.  First thing he told me was that I lost weight.  That made me feel good.  I should tell that to everyone I see..."Hey, Moose Morrison, you lost weight, huh?" Actually, ole' Moose looks like he could be his own planet.  Gotta be slim to get the ladies.  Heh, Wu met his woman, Connie, though AOL like two years ago.  At the time we all thought it was novel that he met some girl on-line.  Man, why can't I be an on-line mack daddy?    
     Other than that, I've been doing my stupid history web-page.  No you can't see it.  Maybe when it's hopefully done, in like 72 hours.  If I like it.  Which I won't. 
     Maya and Jenny didn't know what "phat" meant.  I thought it quietly hilarious.  Jenny even thought it might have been an acronym.  But it's not their fault their not as black as I am.  How can I be so skinny, and live so phat?  Uh-huh.  BTW, if you don't know what "phat" means either, I can like, tell you if you e-mail me.  Cost you a dollar, though.  (Maybe this can be my way to pay for on-line access).  Don't wanna sound 
     Haven't been thinking about what I'm going to do when the week runs out.  I've got Das (of all people!) encouraging me to get a job.  He's on the leading by example trip -- he had a couple o' interviews himself.  Job search aside, I dunno where I'm gonna stay.  I keep telling myself that I'll worry about it once I'm done with my Friday final, but that sounds kinda like Orenthal and his pledge to look for the real killers. 
     Some time ago, Phil and I posted bogus personal ads on Korealink, and then a lil' while after that I posted another one, pretending to be some hot lil' number.  I still get these horny ass guys e-mailing me, trying to be all suave and shit, wanting to get with a 22-year old club girl from Santa Monica with a "long tongue".  The other day I got one from "Jungkook Kim" that was all in Korean.  Every word. 'Course the CLICC lab computers aren't configured to read Hangul, and even if they were, my brain isn't configured to read it. Wu's luck aside, I ain't neva' goin' for some on-line personal ad' chick.  It could be a guy, just like me. 
     Shit, now I'm getting hungry again.  I've been eating like a pig for this whole damned week.  I'm in a constant battle between pigging out and eating little.  My running made the difference -- I felt like eating right when I was running, which I haven't done in nearly two weeks.  Assuming all goes well with my project and my Friday final, I should feel like partying my ass off on Friday -- I'll be graduating!!  Somehow my fear of the immediate future is going to taper that, though.  Unless I get some!! Oh, man, getting some would be the best.  Maybe I can be a hoe' like Phil.  Better yet, I could be a real hoe, and stay with some hot, rich, anorexic KBS in exchange for sex.  Yeah!  
     I wanna be a slut! 
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