7-27
Since I tend to be home and around on Monday and Thursday, I might try to make them my appointed blogging days. We’ll see how that goes. Sorry if this will be a jumble of backlogs.
I sent the info about the show to the club people. I’m still not entirely clear if the show is a go yet. But at least the communication has been good.
I just saw this article about A-rod throwing a birthday party for himself at Chuck-E-Cheese that nobody showed for on this hilarious site that me, the usually web-un-savvy retard, suddenly discovered.
A-Rod. Just the thought of having none of your friends show up for your birthday is just really, really sad. Here’s another article about
Barry Bonds needing to “learn to be a bigger dick” As people close to me know, I have a thing for wearing birthday shirts--shirts from the goodwill that were made for one day, one birthday party, which usually have someone’s name on it who I don’t know. I’ve always jut thought that was funny but I think also that I jut really like the idea of having a day where no one is allowed to piss you off, everybody treats you well, buys you things, and is sympathetic to you even if they don’t really like you. I think I wanna have a show at Chuck-E-Cheese.
Here are my other notes for the week.
7-26
This is the second week in a row I went to Pimlico to bet on Delaware Park…it did not go well.
Lost my daily double in the first 2...also losing both win bets. Then I played a $1 pick 3 that looked good, up until it fell apart in the last leg. My one winner was on the 3rd race, when I put 2 bucks on the favorite, to get back 3 bucks. Alt the while it was the opening day at Saratoga, one of the biggest race meets of the year, and Doug and I were talking. My theoretical bravest bet of the day was on the 4th, in a race where my win place show bet went nowhere but I kept alive in the pick 3 with my second choice. I entered the pick 4 in the 5th, and it tanked immediately. When my sure-to-be-short-priced-anyway pick 3 fell apart in the last leg, I was down.
Fairly depressed and down 20 bucks, I decided to go for the favorite for 5 bucks…which then came in like 6th. Down 25, I stuck my tail between my legs and vowed to take a break next week while I try to figure this shit out.
It was fun, winning fairly okay at the track, pretty much ever since Vegas, but today was my worst hosing in awhile. Usually, even on bad days I have something come through that at least brings me back a little. But today, even my short priced picks didn’t do shit for me. I just did not have it today, and couldn’t find a way to turn it around.
7-25
I have ideas for starting on the Davey G biopic project--I wrote some stuff at work last night, thought about maybe staying up and writing, then thought about it in the morning. I looked at the other little write-ups on the club’s page, and tried to give people an interesting visual image, but it is so, so hard to objectively write about yourself. Plus, now I’m just hungry and sitting in front of a computer is hard. Maybe I need to learn to type.
7-24-06
Last night at work these three guys came back in the kitchen, apparently running from some people with guns. We didn’t know what was happening, Russell and I put up token resistance to them being there, but ultimately they came through, and then ran as soon as they got out the back. It was pretty fucking annoying, people bringing their bad shit upon others. I had some fear that in a minute the people with guns would come back, too.
I ran a couple of food orders for Celita and some guy pulled me aside and said I should not be delivering food unless I changed my apron. I said “This is all I got, they don’t provide us with them,” and anyway, who the fuck are you? Celita told me that the guys was nuts and had been glaring at her, too. That’s me, caught between the indifferent (Bill) and the drunk and stupid guy butting his nose in. Plus, he wasn’t even ordering food, so what does he care?
I had a dream that there was some kind of air show across the street from my house, then 4 single engine planes slowly crashed into each other and fell to the ground. I ran across the street and screamed at my brother to call 9-1-1. He had dyed his hair blonde.
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