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fudgian slip

2004-06-28 - pacific : standard

There was no structure today, just floating sentences that made me laugh. Angie said something like, 'The doctor called? Well it's about fudgin' time.' I asked her if she really just said that. Then we both laughed, but for different reasons. If she was one of my relatives, I'd see to it that she found out where she first heard that and bring that person back to me and singlehandedly I'd deprogram the two of them.

While writing 'fudgian slip', I slipped and wrote fudgina. Who says God has no sense of humor today? I'll deprogram them too.

Someone handed me a hardcard at work today, which is techhie talk for an order. I just wrote odor. Tired helps. Your brain will tell you what it really thinks if you're not hip to it. My friend Peruvian always called this site Dairyland, although she thinks she's saying Diaryland. The hardcard I was trying to mention above was mistyped 'Cank Of America'.

I just finished watching 'Salesman' and suddenly realized that the band Soft Cell probably were doing a play on words. Up until now I just always pictured a soft colored cell that looked like a cross between a contact lens an an amoeba.

A friend of mine was explaining to me the other day the differences between County jail and prison. It appears that prison would be much better, if I had to. He said that when he was in County he had ordered over a hundred dollars in commissary items(shaved down toothbrushes, 20 candy bars, 30 cup of soups, County soap) and then got released a little early, so he figured he should tell the jail that they could just send him the money instead, but they sent him all of the store in a big box, which he gave to a homeless man minus the candy. Having nothing to do with the other stuff mentioned above.

Today I called this girl I used to know. About 20 years ago. We were just little people. She might not remember me but lucky for her my mind's eye is keen for memories of the distant past. Her husband's voice was all I heard, and I didn't call to talk to him, so I hung up. She's the one I always admired because

a) she understood and appreciated that we were starting a band together when we turned eight, that would mirror but not mimic Fleetwood Mac.

b) her Mother Pat allowed her to act stupid and ruin the house.

c) She had a knack for being able to point out all the best beatings on the street below from her window.

d) None of my other little silly tartlet friends liked her.

Seven years ago I called this redheaded curly head kid Tommy I hadn't seen in 14 years. I used to see him every summer and not many winters when what was left of my family would go to this beach house. He didn't remember me and I only remembered one conversation he had with his sister on the grass where six of the other kids in the neighborhood were playing.

JENNY: Hey Tommy that's called stealing in on an offensive line!

TOMMY: No? That's called running!

I thought that line and his timing was so funny that I called him to see if he was still funny, at all. He was, and also a progressed alcoholic. But he still had that spirit. It took him a week to finally get a hold of me at first, and since I was moving to Tucson the next day, we only had a day to catch up, because the other 3 days before that he had court mandated probation activities. In 5 hours we recapped the entire neighborhood.

BAMBI - Outcast of the neighborhood. Liked me. During winter, she would put chapstick all over her face so the cold wouldn't chap her. For some reason, it made her face turn black, and though I found her fascinating, I found that tough to stomach. She and her only friend in the area, Joel, who was no better liked, once got chased for what seemed like a mile but was probably only 3 blocks, by all 14 of the bad little seedlings that lived within a mile of them. When they caught up with them, they beat up Joel and let Bambi live. I just slipped and wrote Bambu.

JOEL - died in a surfing accident as soon as he was old enough. To surf. That always haunted me.

THE CHEESE - The other redheaded kid in town. Also the tiniest.

HILLARY - One of the kinds of people you only meet about about 10 or 11 times in your life. We had the same exact birthday, and she was a perfect deviant.

GEORGE - Large. Looked exactly like the goofy son in The Family Guy, except he wore a lot of black, and was looming. His sister's name was Victoria and since he could never remember my name, he'd always say 'HI VICTORIA'S FRIEND!' Then whenever I went to their house they'd make me play that loud funny bone Operation game and it would damage my mental nerve endings trying to remove just one stupid bone. Whenever the thing would buzz, he'd yell hi Victoria's friend again.

LITTLE NEAL - An inch taller than The Cheese. Obsessed with yelling dinosaurs' names.

AMY - Nothing in her knapsack but angry stares.

Spaceship - There was a spaceship in some guy's backyard and to this day I don't know why. It's still there.

We talked each other's ears off and became fast friends, and then I dropped him off at Truffles bar near where he lived, because his car had gotten impounded, and he only had money left to drink with, not to drive with. I decided not to come in, because I didn't want relapse, you know. I moved to Tucson and found out that he got sober too a few months later. But then relapsed again after a year. Then you lose touch again. All that hard work. After I find my old bandmate I think that'll be it.

I just want to see if

she still has the spunk or

it died at the hands of

this guy.

Not to be

dramatic.

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