- Haole the Whiner: Sup? My worries over my interest in Cibo Matto
has been consuming me for the last several days. It didn't stop me
from buying their new album on Tuesday, but I'm still worried about what
Farand said. Am I getting off on their Asian appeal? Does that
make me a quasi-racist if I am? Can other Asians like Cibo Matto
and not be betraying their heritage? And does anyone truly care?
Haole the Stoner -- Well, when I haven't been fretting over that, I've been smoking up and getting fat. Real fat. I swear, I can not smoke up and not eat. I will eat anything in the house if I'm desperate enough. Raisins, Peanuttles, bread -- this is what I was consuming after I went to Taco Bell the other night. I also make frequent trips to the refrigerator to see if some good munchies have magically appeared since the last time I checked: 5 minutes prior. It's really sick whenever I smoke up with someone who has a car. Then it's doughnuts and Denny's (like on Tuesday after Taco and raiding Ray's kitchen), or the pizza I had last nite. I am a goddamn pig -- that right now is my number one reason to cut down on bud smoking. Good luck, Haole. I have a better chance on cutting down on breathing.
I also wanna report a new side effect of bud smoking from a bong -- sore thumbs. I have a cheap fluid lighter that I use especially for my bong, b/c that's what works best -- not matches (too cumbersome) or a Zippo (the windguard gets in the way). So after several tokes, which is always accompanied by a couple of failed attempts to get a spark going, the side of my thumb starts to hurt from where I've been rubbing the flint to get a light. This morning I forgot my Zippo and tried to light a cig with my fluid lighter -- that fucking hurt!
Haole the Stalker -- in high school I used to try to find out info about girls that they wouldn't freely disclose, like namely where they lived. I never did anything, y'know, just drove by and wished I could walk up to the door and get some good loving going, Peter North-style. But one girl in particular, Joanne, had me but good. She was the first honey I ever had major crush on. I'll spare you the details and just say that I found the house where she lived. My buddy and I used to go on drives around our neighborhood, and I would always pass by her house every night. It was pretty depressing -- there never seemed to be anything going on their, the lights were always off -- it was about as foreboding as a new tract house in the 'burbs could be. (Yeah, I know that driving around looking at girls' houses is depressing too, not to mention loser-like. Shaddup already.)
So Wednesday I was using an online info service to track down some dood for an attorney. This service, Autotrack, can locate practically anyone using driver licenses, police records, even warranty cards -- something to think about next time you're filling out that 3 x 5 card for your new DVD player. So I find the dude, but while I was logged on and had a client to bill it to, I said to myself, "Self, is there anyone I wanna find?" Joanne was the first person to pop into my head. Turned out the only addresses it located for her was her parents home address in San Diego. I dunno if she's still living there, but now I have the street number and a bizarre idea -- what if I wrote her a letter? Y'know, that'd totally be something out of a movie or a TV show or something. Well, it would be if I was handsome and cool and she had an equally huge crush on me in high school. Well, she was a little weird, so maybe she would have thought I was good looking and cool. Jeezus, she went out with Chris Meyers, who was a huge dork with a nice car - a restored Datsun 240Z. (Y'know, maybe that's why I like old 240Zs and 260Zs so much -- they remind me of her).
God, who knows, maybe this could be my shot! Yeah right. I dunno, it seems chicks dig me a little more when they don't have to deal with me face-to-face. And what a hideous face it is.
Haole the Narcissist: Oh yeah, for those of you who interested in what my workspace looks like (since it's where all these entries get crapped out on), here you go. Now get a life.