And the cork just fell out

You shake the champagne bottle slowly, steadily.
You unwind that weird wire cage thing that holds the cork in the top.
You wedge both thumbs between bottle and cork and pryyyyy.

(Plip)
The cork just slips out and falls straight to the floor. No pop, no explosion of bubbly, no spray on the walls and ceiling.

Huh.
Now what?
That's how I feel a little right now.

I remembered and added a couple more places I've gone, and it boosted me past 300.
That was my goal: 300.
I did it.

Now what?

Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie, I want!

I want a Smart Car!
Up to 50 miles to the gallon and able to find a parking space anywhere!?!

Hell Yeah!

(please click my Paypal button to the right to donate, thanks ha ha)

Saying "Goodbye" to someone I never knew

There is bumping clomping upon the back stairs. The sound of plastic rubbing sliding against the brick walls.

The HHUN is apparently moving out.

Fare thee well sexy maiden. We never spoken, but I heard you often. Yelling at your dog Simba. Screaming what's up girl into your phone outside my kitchen window. Arguing with Calvin in the street, on the stoop, and into the street again. I heard you pull up in that ginormous yellow Hummer and dreamed of a hummer between ourselves. I watch you move mattresses and lamps to the Uhaul truck parked outside my bedroom window, lustfully viewing your lithe body dressed in workout top and skin-tight white tights. My heart smolders in bittersweet lust and sadness.

We could have been the hottest unhealthy couple on the block, in The Complex.

But you're leaving.

Farewell Sweet HHUN, my Puerto Rican Princess, via con Dios!

Out Before dark! Oh My!

The sun is still up, and I'm actually going out of the house on my one day off...too meet friends even!
My friend M.W. (one of the Z-Boys) is having a cook-out and outdoor movie in his back yard (cinema set-up thanks to the creative Doodlehead) and I'm going to stumble over there hung-over and coughing or not. Too many cigarettes, beers, and shots bought by the Mark II Lounge (#261) manager for me.
With sweaty headache in tow, I'm lugging my camera over there, so you may find cute kid pictures at a later date.
Nothing like the hair-of-the-dog outside to say SummerTime!
Okay, gotta go, I'm like two hours late.

Another absurd example of The Bank

I hang with one of the maintenance guys at The Bank. He's a 60-something official freaking D.O.M. (Dirty Old Man), always grinding on about all "these G-ddamn morons that work here," and talks about the "big tittied blond" in the office across from The Gopher Hole; he cracks me up. Shit, I'd invite him to a party, if I threw one. He'd keep me and my friends in stitches with his stories about the Army and Korean War alone!

Anyway, Dirty Jim comes into the Gopher Hole the other day holding a newspaper, kind of looking at it confused and smirking.

"You ever seen this paper before?"

"Yeah, I used to read it alot when I first moved here, why?"

"Well, I'm reading the G-ddamn thing, and I'm thinking 'what the fuck is up with headline?' George Bush says Army just not that good"

"It's all satire, parodies, and humor stuff."

"Well, Dickle [the owner of The Bank] told Marketing he wanted some papers on that newsstand table in the lobby for our Spanish clientele, and this G-ddamn thing shows up, what the Hell???"

I nearly pissed myself laughing. The paper picked for our Spanish-speaking clientele was this paper.

Dickle and Marketing es muy idiotas!