Effluvia

No links today, but isn't the Taliban stupid? For those of you unaware, the Taliban is the ruling religious group in Afghanistan and they've decided to destroy every statue in their coutry since statues are an insult to Islam. This despite the fact the everyone in the world - including all their fellow Muslims - think this is an extraordinarily bad idea. Stupid, stupid Taliban. You're dumb. In fact, I forbid any and all Taliban-ers from reading my work from now on. The most effective sanction, I'm sure - that'll hit 'em where they live.

Journal Roulette

Chew's Scribbles - Chew. What a dumb name.

Siobhanorama!

Damn. Siobhan is reading a lot of stuff.

The Coworkers
Ain't Cool Dep't.

The coworker who looks like Christopher on The Sopranos, right? He gave a forty-five minute monologue today on how he could make a better, faster Napster. He's a major dumbass.

Oh, good Lord. Some kid has gone to shootin' out on the west coast. Every time one of these things happen I cringe and hope the kid isn't wearing black and listening to Bauhaus. There is such a thing as bad publicity.

So yes, I haven't updated in a while and yeah, I'm sorry about that. I know how you people need me. But I felt like I haven't been putting out the high quality stuff you folks are used to, so I took a few days off. I assure you you'll thank me later.

Mardi Gras was good! As expected, we had a house full of company, but it was good, quality company - Jen and James, Donna and Jimmy, Glen and Donald Fred. We had a big, big time. It was all good - even the gut-churning, throat-tearing puking session I endured last Sunday morning. It was all glorious. And worth it. Some other highlights:

• Sitting in front of the house on Saturday afternoon, waiting for a cab. Everyone was drinking a big drink and chatting animatedly.

  "Of course I want the cab to come," I told Sonya, "but everyone is having such pleasant conversation. Who am I to disrupt that?"

• The Bacchus parade on Sunday night. Sonya sat behind a row of ladders and caught fists full of beads. Me, Donnie, Jen and Glen worked the street close in to the floats.
• Glen and Donnie's tales from the French Quarter on Sunday night. They got separated immediately. Donnie's friend got dosed with crystal meth. Glen lost his shirt and got beads from Latina girls.
• James and I went costume shopping at the Goodwill Monday morning, after hitting two costume shops looking for fake hair. A madcap day.
• The Orpheuscapade. We looked very sharp in our formalwear as we ate little nibble things, drank and were pelted with big, big beads. I caught a string with a set of dice embedded in them, making me the appointed High Roller for all time. And Glenn Close sang a few songs with Harry Connick, Jr. High class.
• Fat Tuesday and strolling down St. Charles in my Hunter Thompson finery - floppy hat, big shades, cigarette holder and Hawaiian shirt. A few literate parade-goers recognized me, but most of the attention went to my friends Jesus (Jimmy) and The Hulk (Glen). On the way back to the house, some kid asked Glen, "who you is?"

  "You should have told him you were Jesus," I said.

• Let me tell you, our little group was looking kind of droopy by the time we ate a late lunch at the Balcony. Once everyone was out of town I took the dog for a long walk and then Sonya and I sat down for a quiet evening watching the WB. We went to bed early.

Believe it or not Jen and James turned around and came back Friday night so Jen could go see Duran Duran's two night stand at the House of Blues with Sonya. They didn't leave Memphis 'til late, though, so Sonya and I sprawled in the living room, waiting for them.

Funny thing: early Friday morning I was flipping through the channels. I found - I swear this is true - a talk show where this midget with a huge mullet (or perhaps it was a normal-sized mullet on a small man, who can say?) pumping his pelvis at the crowd. The TV was muted, but I needed no sound to enjoy that.

We all slept late and had a quiet Saturday on the couch. Jen and Sonya went shopping while James and I lazed, watching Buffyvideos. Saturday night we met friends at Lafitte's and then steered our little posse down to the Shim Sham Club for Glitter Glam Night and a showing of The Rocky Horror Picture Show, complete with a cast acting out the movie.

I highly recommend the Glitter night, people: within thirty minutes of our arrival, we heard the Cure, Siouxsie, Iggy Pop, David Bowie, T-Rex, Sweet, Velvet Underground, Bowie and Kiss. Excellent. And I saw, like, 60% more ass at Rocky than I thought I would see. James and I agreed it was well worth the five bucks to get in. Bonus: Pabst cans were a buck-fifty each.

Sunday went like this: sleep, eat, nap, eat, Sopranos, sleep. You should try it. I gained twenty pounds in a shade over eight hours.

This evening, with Sonya and Jen gone to their concert, James and I went down to the Bulldog, the local pub, for pints and a bit of dinner. A very civilized night. Then we came back to the house and watched wrestling. Watching wrestling with a buzz is a beautiful thing.

Updating with a buzz is pretty sweet, too!