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January 20, 2002

birthday weekend 2002:

day two.

the hilights:

work all day, mostly NOT working but hanging out in cyberspace and answering the occasional telephone call; telephone calls from two of my ladies, emails from another; pick up from MIF in the pimpmobile, ride back to her crib for some delicious pasta with zucchini and goat cheese, and some chillin, and some talkin, and some top 80 of the 80's videos, and a birthday surprise diary design which you are looking at RIGHT NOW! and some coffee and cigarettes; and then to J*'s place, for some more talking and cigarettes, and new wave music and drunken chocolate birthday cake madness, and O and cokes and lovely delightful presents; and packing in to the car and heading for the roboto, and pulling up with secret drinks in sippy cups and a big bag full of cake, and seeing my guitar boy and seeing some other people and lots of smiles and then laying my eyes and then my arms on my new york rockstar, and lots of cigarettes and secret drinks and chatting outside in the cold, and forming yet another new band with MIF in which we will sing the entire Def Leppard catalog with the accent Joe Elliot has when he speaks, and then some bottom heavy thunder, and then into the van for secret beers and cake, and then a secret birthday message graffitti on the bathroom wall,and then out to watch the band from NYC with the horribly embarrassing name, and then out for more cigarettes and my NYRS boy dissing PINK and MIF not diggin that at all, and then the Jay and Silent Bob characters getting in on the conversation and then the silent bob guy going to his car to get a big poster of PINK and giving it to MIF, who is not exactly PROMOSEXUAL but slightly PROMOCURIOUS, and then in for the smoky hip hop scratching strobe pounding booty thrillin sounds of DALEK, and me and my ladies movin our stuff around while all the other indie rockers remained paralyzed from the neck down, a shame, and then rushing around distributing cake and trying to figure out where the party's at, and finding my NYRSboy in the basement with the rough and tumble drummerboy, and trying to get a word in edgewise, and giving him the hug and the nod and the wink and the "we're going to gooskis"; and going to Gooskis and seeing our bartender at the door and no bands playing and getting the big booth in front and getting a raspberry lambic and J* getting some baby's leg provolone sticks and talkin and drinkin and trying to give cake to people in the bar, and my honeygirl arriving with her knife in her pocket and news of her record finds(MY Billy Squier album! Three records of Marlene Dietrich!), and J* being all wicked and mischevieous and licky, and the keyring girl arriving and trying to talk us all in to a week in spain in march, and more talking and laughing and then playing of pool, and MIF and I forming yet another band in which we perform Depeche Mode's entire back catalog with cheerful demeanors, and watching the ladies playing pool with the man called CHEESE, the one with all the stuff in his face, and feeling lucky lucky lucky that I have such great ladies and such a great neighborhood bar and just dang happy with the world.

Today, I am thinking laying low and watching movies and cleaning up and then off to the PIPERS PUB SCOTTISH HERITAGE VAULT INTO MIDDLE AGE DINNER CELEBRATION.

I can hear the scotch eggs calling my name.

look what you've done to this rock and roll clown

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