And I started hearing about all of these people I knew in high school (the intellectuals and the creme de la creme of academia, not the goths, punks, middle-aged Ren Faire people, White Wolfers, etc. that I also did stuff with...damn I was every where..hmm).

One of my friends, Adi, is doing management work for a small firm out in California. He doesn't like his job, but he has a g/f that he's apparently rather fond of. He's looking to bust out of that whatnot, though, try and see if he can evade the guard dogs and watchmen of society from screaming "y'know, you really will find someone to fall in love with and marry! Yes, you! Stop! Take notice! Breed, damn you! Breed!"

Like some incandescent disco ball, strobbing in synch with your hormone patterns, creeping and striking as you lose control to the ever pervasive monotony of our Starbucks perception of fucking and good old fashioned sultry naughtiness in this country. By fuck, we need indie sex, not this slaven and godless image that we should blow countless assholes to try to obtain! By God we have the right to have relationship insurance and have premiums and dividends to make sure we can collect SOMETHING from the settlement; to protect us from this Rockefeller fiasco! Not this waxy ball of dick snot shot so precariously upon our persons, not this streamlined Pepsi One vaginal secretion! I want the old coke, motherfucker! I want the old coke! Whew, ok...pointless side-tracked diatribe meandering off, slithering off...it goes, I stay.....so yes, sex, good old-fashioned frolicking fucks, I think i will try that with a martini, Mr. or Ms. Kensington. And like a trackball, I roll back to the point...hmf...good sex, rasafrakin...

So it was really cool talking to him! We have made plans to meet and shoot the shit, possibly over some highly suspect and overprized fried animal at the local hangout place. Jerry's Deli, I believe it's sneered (7 dollars...bowl of soup, I kid you not).

And then, oddly, he was speaking with another friend of mine, Elana, and then we started chatted and going over the same old same old. She dropped cognitive neuropsych and is doing art in Italy now. She's engaged to someone she absolutely adores and is in love with. She says that I'll eventually find someone who I won't be able to stop not falling in love with.

I've experienced this pipe-dream before, but you know, I'm an eternal optimist about romantic love, kindof like bums who go dumpster-diving: sure some asshole leaves just burgers with rot and maggots all over them, and you still have to eat it...but sometimes, oh fuck man, you get yourself this pizza...this beautiful, recently tossed out pizza...and you scarf until you are a glutted false-idol worshipping heathen devil Pagan.

You find your new religion and you worship that dick/pussy like it were a sign from God. Hell, you are not you, you ARE that dick/pussy...kindof like Ea/Enu when the Earth Mother of Sumerian myths placed him in her vagina to chill for awhile...I mean dude, what would you do? You get pushed out and spend all of your life trying to get back in. Man, I'd open up a micro-brewery...oh hell, no, no...that was thoroughly unintentional...oh gods, bad, nasty visual imagery with component that makes alcohol fermentation possible...

Out of extended metaphor land. Yay! So where was I...so we spoke for a long time and it was cool. Really cool.

Besides that, I spoke with pinknoise. He apparently really loves my writing, which surprises me. I mean, people, it's been awhile and it's not like I've practiced much...so the compliment, it makes me all fuzzy inside.

Alright, that's enough.

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