Your cocktail sir,

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2001-10-15 - 8:31 p.m.

I yearn for the simple times, the happy times. I feel like I'm all that's left of a cast from an F. Scott Fitzgerald novel. Not that my spirit is broken or anything, I'm just looking around at the recent events and wondering were everything is going. It's the not knowing that I don't like. There is not even a vague trend to follow. In order to forget my troubles, if only for a little while, I went and saw Vampire Hunter D: Bloodlust tonight, and since it was opening night, the Anime club was there. Or perhaps I was just lucky. I don't have a problem with clubs, in fact I often wish that I was born around the turn of the century when gentlemen of class and breeding spent much of their time in clubs. But this was very different. I was once in a D&D club in High School, along with the Chess Club and while I have managed to run far and wide from such things now, the experiences still haunt me. The D&D club was actually because of a girl, and the Chess Club was because I had nothing better to do at lunch. But no amount of candy coating can hide the simple truth that I was (and still am, even under all my labels and faux european snobbery) a geek. If only I'd pledged a fraternity, then I could add just one little consonent to the moniker and be set for life with a secret handshake, a group of lifelong friends, and a lifetime of homoerotic anecdotes to tell at parties. But alas, I didn't. Actually, thanks to the threats of an intervention from friends and loved ones I managed to abstain. I've gotten way off the subject of the Anime club. I'm sure that some such witty epiphany lurked within, but it seems I've forgotten it. So I'll teel you about the couple in front of me in the refreshment line. Two very large people that I thought might be on a date, but it turns out they weren't, the woman had lost some inane trivia contest online, and so was purchasing the popcorn, as previously agreed, which the guy kept bringing up, well past her acknowledgment of defeat. They were arguing over the soda. It seems that it would be rootbeer if there was to be a 50/50 split in cost, but if it delved into the realms of 60/40 or dare I say it, 30/70 than Cherry Coke was the soup de jour. The exact methodology of determining the split started to get heated until the helpful counter person pointed out that the large beverage came with free refills. The man then pulled out (from somewhere on his person as he was wearing sweatpants) a large wad of bills, 100's and 20's! I was surprised he wasn't being chivalrous. And I was amazed at the size of his wad (no, silly people) Not that the guy had any social skills whatsoever, and his large bulk needed an extra x in the XXL sweatpants he was wearing, with a shirt that needed a couple of x's added to it's size. Buffy's face was stretched to bizzare proportions, the smile twisted into a grimace, as if she knew what was happening to her, and also making it seem as if she was expanding with the universe, only those were not stars on the black t, but instead the before picture in a Head & Shoulders add. I wanted to circle the air in front of me with a grease pencil. I tried shifting my gaze away from such horrors, only to be confronted by velcro shoes. It was at this point that the disturbing thought of where the wad of money actually came from entered my mind and then unbidden several places came to mind. I was fortunatly saved from stabbing at my brain with a toothpick from a dispenser no doubt placed within convenient reach for just such a purchase when I noticed, under the folds of man, one of those security belt wallets that they sell to white midwesterners for travel in Europe. His wad secure (why does that sound dirty) they went off to the theater to join thier bretheren. I got my bottle of water and hid in the back, and I'm sure that everyone had a great time.

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Zen and don't cry out loud - 2007-07-29

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Zen and fasting - 2007-06-20

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