Two; Two; Two Entries In ONE!.

7:13 pm, November 2, 2004

**((Written at work, Monday, November 1st))**

I've gotta stop feeling compelled to put "Big" in front of people's names while drunk. I'm gonna start getting in trouble.

Joshua Pyle, USMC

Do you realize how depressing the goodbye dinner at Red Lobster on a Friday evening at 5:00 is? First of all, you gotta wait at least a half hour to be seated and then you get there and they say it's gonna be another 20 minutes for the kitchen to produce new cheese rolls!

Really, no one wants to be there; they're there out of obligation. They'd much rather be curled up on the couch, weed pipe glistening in the candle light, content in the fact that Josh isn't going into the Marines. But, he is, and it hurts them to crack a smile.

Of course, I'm there out of utter indifference. You can't phase me. Even though the dipping butter was a little cold and congealed at the bottom, I'm not gonna say much because the rice was delightful.

So, we got that outta the way, and you know everyone was all questions. Well, here are the answers:

Well, I went from that to Seattle after a day of working on 5 hours of sleep after an evening of half-assed drinking on Stephanie's 21st birthday. In the period of two days, I got a pool stick thrown into my hand and a punch thrown into the top of my head by one Andrés. I've been in and out of intensive care, but the doctors say I'm in stable condition now.

Stuff I learned Friday night:

Passed out and left early Saturday so I could watch my dogs as Josh and Dad went to Yakima for a Very Deckard Halloween. In case you're unaware, the Deckards are the drunken half of my dad's side of the family. Returned clad as Mr. Clean Saturday night to see the whitest of all midriffs this side of the Carlsbad Caverns. Nate's girlfriend, Erin the Friendly Ghost was polite enough to wear SPF 1000 sunblock and a burka for the first 20-something years of her life just to show us her imitation of White on Rice in a Snowstorm. I'd go on, because I now realize how much she enjoys this subject being the subject of ridecule, but I think the onslaught might be a bit much. After all, I believe it was General (hospital) William Prescott at the Battle of Bunker Hill who said, "Don't fire until you see the white in her thighs!"

Went from Nate's to about five of the most awkward, corner-standing minutes at big-hootered Natasha's apartment. Talked to no one, left by myself, arrived at Bianca's ready to throw one down.

Got lotsa pictures. Thoroughly enjoyed Big Sarah's moustache ... you'd think she would've been content to just use the fake plastic moustache, but Big S is a trooper to the max. With growth like that, electrolysis is definitely out of the question; gonna have to work on it with a chisel. I thought Chon made a great panty-showing Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz. I give huge props to Julie for not only making the best costume of the night (Chiquita Banana Lady), but also the gayest (Eric's Gay Trucker outfit). Aside from my own, I'd have to say Kon's was the funniest, although Mario's baby costume and Matt's "Retarded Packer Fan" (yes, very redundant) gave us a run. Most fitting was obviously Eddie. Got an incriminating photo of Mr. Clean and William "Horse" Hung in Bruce's bed, Ed-man. Don't even THINK about running for political office without my Hush Money.

There's really not much about Bianca's I do remember with all that much detail. Dancing and trying to rap along to the Beastie Boys. I think at one point I was on the front porch with some scary dudes I was convinced were on the verge of kicking my ass if I didn't appease them with free alcohol.

He had a Tiki God ... SAAAAVED HIM!

Realized most of my posse left without me, but luckily Dead Kon Elvis was still there Phil Margara-ing it up. So, we walked all the way back, watched most of Stand By Me with Kon while I was giving him some drunk talk to beat the band. Seriously, my drunken musings would win Pulitzers for years. He finally gave up and went to bed around 3; proof that I finally beat him. Possom, baby!

Awoke with dread in my heart as Eric was kicking my ass early on in Fantasy Football; but it was not to be. I did so well in all facets of NFLdom yesterday that, if Miami wins tonight, I'm up $100.

But, you know, it's pretty bittersweet. I mean, a hundred bucks when you're in debt as much as I am is nothing to sneer at. Besides that, I'd like to give a shout out to Kon's parents. They were way too generous, giving me the 60 big ones for working on Kon's sis's papers. Right about now, I'd like to extend an offer to the Zaks. If you hire me now for you personal family editor, I'll make myself exclusive, thus taking me off the market for any students in competition for your daughter's grades. Not only that, but I'll even throw in some elbow grease your son's way at half price. Act now while supplies last!

Anyway, Josh left last night. The house is so fucking quiet without the combination of techno and Fox News Channel's Bill O'Reilly filling my ears. The most depressing sight is seeing Josh's dog Missy not eat for a week, patiently waiting on her master's bed for his return. Every once in a while she'll leave the room, hearing a noise and hoping to see him walking up the stairs. But, that won't happen for another three months.

And how am I doing? I'll tell you after the Dolphins-Jets game.

Mood: Working and Writing
Music: Spin Doctors - What Time Is It?

**((Written at home, now, Tuesday, November 2nd))**

Boy, this week just keeps getting better and better.

I don't wanna bum any of you out any more than I have to, so if you feel like leaving now I wouldn't be offended in the least.

So, my grandma died last night around 2:30 in the morning. It was pretty expected as she's had cancer for a while now, and all signs point to her stopping the chemo a few months ago. She just got sick of being sick on top of that cancerous feeling. Funeral's Friday at 1. My aunt wants me to help write the obituary, but I don't know what to say. Sentiment isn't my strong suit. Got this news in an empty house today over the phone, so I split before anyone could get back. Went for a walk for about an hour to make sure all my dad's brother and sisters wouldn't be here when I got back. I can't talk to these people under normal circumstances; there's no way I could handle them in this state.

Not only do I have to help write the obit, but I gotta think of something to say at the funeral. My grandma hated the idea of having some strange priest or someone who didn't know her talk about her at her funeral. Well, we pulled a priest out of a hat anyway, but we're also gonna be giving personal speeches. I don't know if any of you know this about me, but I ain't no public speaker. Sure, I can write something, and I can read it to the family I guess, but I don't wanna get up there and recite the same tired eulogistic spiel. I've got a few days, though. I'm sure I'll think of something.

Being that this is election day, it's pretty distressing enough. I'm just gonna boycott television altogether. I'll wake up tomorrow hopefully knowing the outcome. As for right now, I'm gonna watch Full Metal Jacket in honor of my brother. Hopefully he's having an easier time than the characters getting berated in that movie for 40 minutes.

Current Mood: Man, what do you think?
Current Music: Jeff Buckley - Kanga-Roo