Journal of Pirate Lingo*

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* not an actual journal
of pirate lingo

18.06.01 - 4:40 p.m.

I'm getting used to writing these weekend updates. A good time to sit back and ponder. Imagine me stroking my chin gravely as we sit, Kubla-Khan & Marco Polo like, imagining the following vistas:

Friday

Work work work. I felt like the guy from the "Sword of Damocles", which is this old story about a guy with a sword hanging over his head, and if he doesn't finish all his third-party integration testing by Friday he dooms his project to failure and eventually has to leave the company and he is so depressed he becomes alcoholic and he dies in the gutter, alone & unloved. I forget what the sword had to do with it.

But anyway, cut out around 7 & met Amber for dinner at this tapas place in the Mission. Asparagus with garlic butter sauce, sangria, foxy redhead... I'll refrain from waxing all happy n shit, but you know how it goes. (haha, Amber told me how one time she somehow offended this girl hangin out in downtown berkeley, and the girl starts getting really agitated, and you can tell she's building up to some scathing insult, and finally she spits out-- "asshole! look at you, all... SPORTY n CUTE n shit!")

After dinner we met up with ChrisJ and crawled around the Mission hitting bars. Doc's Clock was cool, and gave just the tiniest frisson of seediness. Eh, it really wasn't that seedy, maybe it was just the neighbhorhood. After Doc's we headed to Bruno's, where there were sumptuous white booths and Brass Monkey was playing. They had a good tuba player. More drinks and then a huge margarita at some other bar. I was teetering like the first guy you fight in Mike Tyson's Punch-out. All back to mine, KO. Woke up the next morning at 8:00 AM!!

Saturday

The reason for getting up at this ungodly hour was that Chris & I wanted to go to this anti-globalization teach-in that was happening all day. Well, more Chris wanted to go and I tagged along. It was actually really interesting, but I don't recommend drinking heavily the night before you're going to attend a series of lectures on socialism & marxism & antiglobalization. My comprehension of the definitions of "capital" and "labor" was definitely hampered by the DEMONIC WAILING ORGANGRINDERS GRINDING INSIDE MY HEAD...

The teach-in was at some radical union hall & it was put together by the Worker's World Party. How socialist are they? Well let's just say it was the first time I've ever heard people seriously refer to each other as "comrade". But in spite of all the quaint talk of solidarity and the proletariat ("like the horse?"), it was inspiring. Everybody there was sincere, and they'd all devoted a large portion of their lives to fighting injustice and trying to gain power for the powerless. I learned a lot about socialism & the effects of NAFTA on Mexico (and the US) & the FTAA. find out more

After we left the teach-in ChrisJ & I wandered over to North Beach, checked out the throngs of fairgoers. Lots of bric-a-brac and fried calimari, but it wasn't really my thing. I get claustrophobic in huge fair crowds. We split and I headed up to Berkeley. Dinner @ some thai place w/ Amber & Anne Marie & Anne Marie's mom, who's a gym teacher. She told us that the major burning issue for gym teachers these days, the one that really starts the flames going on PE listservs and turns gym teacher against gym teacher, is dodgeball. I guess it makes sense-- that's an evil evil game. But, apparently they've developed some kind of high-tech polyurethane dodgeball that is incapable of causing pain when it hits somebody. Kids today are so spoiled.

Oh, also-- Amber had bought these little chicks to feed to her snakes, so I watched that. The snake lies there looking like a dead slithery lump, and then suddenly (REALLY fast) whips out and clamps its mouth over the chick's mouth so the chick can't breathe, while simultaneously wrapping around it and crushing it. Chicks really do go "peep peep".

Sunday

After tempestuous night, we got up and went to work out. Ow, ow, ow. We did reverse-benchpresses and "jackknives" and "russian death lunges" and other exercises that sound like tortures you'd inflict on prisoners of war. But it felt good afterwards. We got smoothies with protein and ginseng and fiber and who knows what else. Bee pollen maybe?

In the afternoon, just hanging out being lazy. Laziness is the best, esp. if you have the right chica to be lazy with.

In the evening, consumption... we met Angi & Sandeep & Elio & Jay (who's finally in town-- he's officially a Visiting Scientist at UC Davis, isn't that cool? I know an actual scientist. haha, Jenny & Elio & Mattorb... you guys are NOTHING! go visit somewhere and then we'll talk) & Jay's friend whose name always slips out of my head. Ethiopian food w/ superslow service (a berkeley trademark I think) & then record shopping. Another boring consumptive list that nobody cares about except me:

  1. Fugazi - 13 Songs (just cos I'd had "Waiting Room" in my head for days and people were tired of hearing me walk aroung screaming, "I WAIT I WAIT I WAIT I WAIT!!!")

  2. Mr. Bungle - Disco Volante (second album I own called "Disco Volante"... wtf does it mean?)

  3. Autechre - Amber (shut up)

  4. Cannibal Ox - The Cold Vein (simon reynolds tossed off a remark saying it was good... he better be right or he owes me $13.95)

  5. issue 6 of McSweeney's (a beautiful thing to stroke and caress)

Back to SF, sleep then work, the cycle repeats. Mouse on Mars tonight, that will be interesting. & Build to Spill tomorrow. & testing's over Friday. Everything is rushing by.

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