Finding Emo

This is poorly written but an interesting story: hooked on foliage. I remember a similar story a few years ago in the L.A. Times in which a woman recounted trying to zap her chronic pain with poppy tea and getting seriously addicted, crashing her car on the nod, taking 1.5 years to get off the stuff, etc. But you know, it’s natural! So it can’t hurt you.

There have been a lot of small people around lately. Not dwarves or midgets, just small people. A three-quarter-scale hipster couple has been at D’s almost every night lately, and there is a very, very small woman using her laptop here most days. Also the guy at the auto parts store only had his shoulders over the counter.

Speaking of the auto parts store they were playing “Hungry Eyes” from Dirty Dancing on the muzak there and I got not an earworm but a full on brainworm from it, gnawing through the amygdala and thalamus deep into the stem.

This is a spring day out of a movie about how spring days are the greatest thing, except that I’m not running laughing through a meadow with Audrey Tautou or whatever.

The 60 year old man next to me is logging into MySpace. He’s going to have even less luck there than I did!

¿Quien es mas macho: pumpkin muffin, o root beer?

Ah, he was logging on to myspace because he and his friend are trying to start Yet Another Failed Yellow Pages Type Portal and they want to know what people, you know, use. Oh boy.