Ron Jeremy Gets Goatse’d

Went to Finbar’s with realitylost and devoured capellini pomodoro. Outside a hideous shopping mall band was playing in the hideous shopping mall. They were the classic keyboard+sax+bass+drum rock/R&B bar band nightmare. A few guys with Tommy Bahama silk shirts playing fine tunes such as “Brick House” and “Play That Funky Music, White Boy”. The latter song is a dealbreaker for me. No one can play that song, ever! Or WWIII.

Later, when the shitty band was doing “Oye como va”, I was charmed to see a short wide man dance the cha-cha well with a tall narrow woman who was learning it from him. They were having a genuinely good time.

LJ’s post by email broke again. There is no notice of this on status.livejournal.org and in fact there never is any notice there. In fact, from that page you’d think that LJ had been completely down since Thursday. Why do they even bother having a status page when it’s always outdated and useless? The whole point of the status page is to reduce traffic to your support board by letting people know what’s already being fixed. Sigh.

I am depressed, to the extent that everything is moving in slow motion and crucial things that need doing are not being completed. This sucks.

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He’s no longer the homosexual terrorist of Central Orange County. He’s now an IT consultant and an extremely patriotic cop-fan and gadfly critic of the Irvine City Budget. See http://geocities.com/affordableirvine for details.

His caption for this photo:

Who says you can’t make new Friends while Fighting City Hall…

Recently while attending a Reception put on by The Great Park of Orange County Conservancy, an astute Photographer took advantage of what was possibly the best Photo Opportunity of the evening.

Shown are David S.Harvey, “Papucho”, the Tax and Spend Watchdog, Two of Irvine’s Finest Police Officers, and “Larry”, my latest prized possession, an Official Great Park of Orange County Squirrel, named after Larry Agran, the Mayor of Irvine.

Please insert one of my previous entries about sexual frustration, self-loathing, regret, and impotent rage here. Thanks! Together, we can save LJ space.

From: king77Kharrison@nonet.com
Subject: Three people have used that very phrase about Kaulbach to me today alr…
Date: October 8, 2004 11:10:05 PM PDT
To: me

lockout tie port

We make sofitware to be njear you. Orjder any soft yiou need for a low pirice . For eixample : shop – 299$ , us – 30$

http://geocities.com/strong_vintners_34/

hurling proclamations

Take just a ciandy and bvecome ready for 36 hoours of love

http://geocities.com/justice_bailey_82/

falsehood readying mind infused smokable bridli

This is miost modxern and safxe way nxot to covexr with shiame Onily 15 minuties to waait FDA Aipprovied

I entered the parking lot with some difficulty because of young drunk people in mating mode staggering about. This is because parts of the grocery store parking lot are used for the local bad meat market bar on busy nights. To make sure that the young drunk people only park in the appropriate spaces, a security guard is stationed there.

Tonight’s guard was the stereotypical tall wide bald phlegmatic black man. I think that certain types of security guys must by law be bald as well as huge. As I pulled up, he was reminding some giddy ugg-boot girls in a convertible Mustang to park further down in the lot. He had to say it three times before they comprehended and buzzed off.

I said “You must hear yourself saying that in your sleep”. He replied “This job is all about repetition”.

“Drunk people,” I said, “are your business. And drunk people require a lot of repetition”.

He nodded and looked thoughtful. “I have learned Drunkenese at this job!” he announced happily.

Breakfast… Cookie… Meal? I have a headache now.

I took advantage of the last days of ljbook.com to make a book of my LJ to date. Since I donated, I could put everything in it, comments images blah. My LJ to date is 184.8 megabytes of PDF. Holy cow.

On the patio, barely ambulatory.

From an AP story about a fatal bus crash:

Fredonia Gay, who lives three miles from the crash site, was awakened by passing medical helicopters. “The helicopters kept coming over my house, and I knew it would be something tragic,’’ she said. “They kept coming and coming.’’