Mezzo Swede

A Toast to World Domination
2002-05-24 05:59:52 (UTC)

Did Someone Say Penis?

When Katie Chapin, Liz, my theatre buddy, and I, were
driving to Friday's yesterday, we saw what looked like a
dead duck on top of the SUV in front of us. Upon closer
examination it did indeed turn out to be a dead duck. We
tossed around the possibility of it being some kind of
joke, but the joke theory upon realizing that the situation
was strange, rather than funny. So, we pulled up to the
driver at a stoplight, and Liz rolled down her window.
Because we didn't really have any set plan of action in
terms of communication, all three of us began flailing and
gesticulating in the direction of the deceased fowl. Katie
and Liz are both huge exaggerators, at least when it comes
to dead birds, because they somehow made it seem like there
was a dead albatross, or a bald eagle, on top of the poor
woman's car. I was yelling "DUCK" from the back seat, to
offset the fears that were being created by the drama
queens Liz and Katie. Anyway, the light eventually turned
green, the dead duck charades ended, and the woman thanked
us for letting her know, and drove off. The three of us,
felt a profound sadness for the dead bird, then continued
on to Friday's where we talked about sex for approximately
2 hours. Liz and Katie, again, are not only drama queens,
but also speak in very animated ways, decibels above
everyone else's speaking volume. So I had to tell them
repeatedly, that the other people in the restaurant who
were eating dinner around us, might not want to partake in
our indepth discussion about vaginas and orgasms. It is
amazing how a conversation can seem to be taking place at a
pretty even volume, and then when you get to words
like "Masturbation" and "Penis", it's like everyone in the
room just happened to all take a breath at the same time,
creating this profound silence, which in turn magnifies
YOUR exclamation to the max. Strange phenomenon.
I can't remember if I wrote about my excursion to the Cafe,
with Clint, the other night. It was really fun. He came to
the apartment, and hung out for a bit with Mom, and mom's
friend Margit. I served pate, and brie, with white wine. I
was so excited. It was the first time I had really had
guests in the place, and I actually SERVED something. YAY!
Eventually, Mom and Margit went to dinner, and Clint and I
headed up to San Francisco. We had an excellent meal at the
Red Grill, was it? Hm...It was some form of Grill, and had
some color attached to it. I think it was Red. I had a
tasty Whiskey Flank Steak, and it was super. After dinner
we went to visit Luis the bartender at the Cafe. Luis made
me about a million Rum and Cokes. I missed MY Luis though.
I wish he could have been there, but he had to work. We
left at around midnight, and Clint drove me to Luis' house.
Luis had actually called, but I wasn't able to call back at
the time. I should have called as soon as I got out of the
club, and I felt bad that I didn't. I was quite tipsy
though, and of course, really happy to see him. He didn't
seem too upset, but like I told him, I should have called.
If the situation had been reversed, I would have wanted him
to call. It won't happen again.
Allright, I am going to go move some CD's to the apartment.
And finish my laundry. Did I mention that I have an
audition at MAX's Opera Cafe on Tuesday? I think I did. But
in case I didn't mention it...I have an audition at Max's
Opera Cafe on Tuesday. I went to the job fair at Foothill
College yesterday. It was really dumb. Fifty million tables
wanting people to join the Marines, another fifty million
tables for the Army, about 24628734 tables for Veterinary
clinics, and the rest for medical assistant jobs. None of
that interests me, nor do I possess the necessary skills.
Yesterday on TV, the was a lunatic that jumped from a tall
pillar into a pile of cardboard. 10,000 people had gathered
in some plaza in N.Y. to watch. I don't see what the big
deal was. It wasn't really fascinating, and it wasn't
really amazing. He stood on the pillar for 36 hours. Big
deal. Why would anyone want to stand on a pillar for 36
hours, only to eventually hurl themselves OFF the pillar
and onto a bunch of cardboard boxes?! Makes no sense.
My dad just told me that on the news in New Zealand there
was a report on a cat that stole people's underwear. Now
THAT is comedy. Apparently, the feline delinquent stole the
same kind of underwear every time, off people's laundry
lines.




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