Thanks Dee Dee!

I believe it was Sophocles who said it.

"To truly know a man you must first crash out on the dude's couch."

It's been a while since this kranki old boy has strung together two back to back out till five am nights.. This morning I was pleased to learn that my kind host, Mr. Wright, grinds his own coffee beans. After a night of mild mayhem it takes a while for me to do my morning-after damage assessment. It isn't until I've cradled the reassuringly warm and solid mug in my hands and taken the first few sips of comforting caffeinated brew into my system that I know my brain is still mostly intact. At that point I always say a silent pagan prayer of thanks to the God of wine, women, and song. I think that particular god's name is Decadence. Although his close friends just call him Dee Dee.

Since Enny asked

This is what happened. She talked about her ex boyfriend entirely too much, called me a lightweight drinker (I am. Plus I was full from dinner, but no guy likes to hear that) which caused me to drink more than I needed. I kissed her at one point and it was nice but then she said she had to go at 10:24 pm to do some work which when she described it sounded like it was less than urgent to me. I told her that was bullshit, but fine. Then on the way up the hill walking back to her car she said she couldn't make it and I picked her up. She was too fucking heavy and I was too drunk and I went to place her atop some recycling bins and kiss her sexily but ended up dropping her on the light and empty bins and face planting her into a parked car. If that wasn't bad enough there were some people who saw the whole thing and uncaringly asked if we were okay before telling us to pick up all the containers that we had knocked over. She apologized for being too heavy and I walked her to her car, made a quick joke about promising not to call her and hurried inside. I went to sleep even though I should probably have just slit my wrists in the bathtub. At least I don't work with her... Oh, wait... FUCK!

Date with Disaster

I think it was the worst date I've ever gone on and the second worst date I've ever heard of. The worst date I've ever heard of happened to my friend. She was out on a mediocre date with a guy who was driving back from the restaurant and began to accelerate to almost 75 miles per hour on a residential street. She asked him what was wrong and insisted that he slow down. He wasn't listening to her but a few minutes after speeding up he suddenly lowered his head and looked totally dejected as he brought the car's speed down to just 20 miles per hour.

"What's wrong?" She asked.

He said nothing and just looked out at the road. This weirded her out and caused her to genuinely worry.

"Hey, you need to tell me what the hell is going on!" She insisted.

He finally looked up at her. At that very moment she began to smell a terrible odor that was far more than just flatulence.

"Well," he said. "It's just that the food didn't... I really like you and... I was nervous so..."

Then the smell hit her with its full nostril curdling force and she realized that the guy she was on a date with had just shit in his pants.

"Nevermind, just let me off right here and this never happened."

My date wasn't that bad, but it was very close.

Pre Bay to Breakers

Well tomorrow will be my first Bay to Breakers. It's really strange to be waking up at 7:30 in the morning on a Sunday to go get drunk and watch athletes mingle with costumed eccentrics and naked people.

I have my Bubble Boy costume just about all ready to go. I have a bubble wrap cape, utility belt and a bubble hat. I also have my trusty, crime-fighting bubble wand that shoots a few hundred bubbles per blast. Look out evil. You've never seen anything so intimidating.

Dudes at the Park

My day was very trippy. But it wasn't my fault. It was all because of some dudes at the park who, as part of their product promotion, were giving away free samples of their "special cookies." As it turns out these cookies were extremely special. So special in fact that even just half a cookie can have you forgetting how to properly text message and/or stand without falling.

It is a testament to my lack of responsibilities that I can engage in this form of consumer spending. Free 16 hour high. The Dudes at the park are a welcome addition to the small businesses that cater to the laid-back, park-dwelling bohemians.

MM

Mackin' with Jesus

Saturday was the birthday of a young woman I know. She's cool, has great taste in music, some big tattoos and she cuts my hair when I can be bothered to tame my mullet back into hair that a non-caveman hippie human should have. I assumed that she would probably have a bunch of cool female friends so I invited one of the few guy friends I have here in SF to join me.

The best-looking woman at the dinner party was - and I'm not sure the proper term here so I'll just use all of them and be utterly politically incorrect - a midget, dwarf, little person, hobbit.*

At the Beauty Bar we watched some very attractive lipstick lesbians dance until the music just became utter shit and the visual enjoyment was overwhelmed by the auditory irritation. Then my friend and I went off to another place to have a drink. There were no lipstick lesbians or midgets there and shockingly we were able to get a table on a Saturday night.

When my friend popped off to the bathroom this Chinese woman and a tall guy with a salt and pepper beard invited themselves to sit down across from me. They looked interesting so I didn't care that they'd just plopped down. Jeff and Cindy introduced themselves and Jeff told me they'd just been talking about the reproductive tendencies that have been hard-wired into the male mind. I think I impressed them by telling them about a few authors and works I've read on the subject. I asked if they were discussing the topic from a modern sociological standpoint or a more anthropological point of view. Jeff didn't know what to make of that. I think his drinks were catching up with him because I didn't understand his response.

My friend returned and we asked Cindy, the Chinese chick, how she and Jeff knew each other. This proved to be the absolute best question to have possibly asked her. It was probably the only interesting area of conversation to be mined but it was a productive shaft to chip at.

It turned out that Cindy was here from England going to art school and she was currently doing a video installation entitled "If God doesn't do it for you, try making out with his son." Here is the gist of it. When she was a girl attending Catholic School she was fascinated with the image of Jesus that hung in her auditorium. She was particularly entranced with his beard which she would day dream about often. So now her video installation entails her filming herself making out with men whom she doesn't really know who have beards. As she explained it "I like to go to their apartments after arranging to meet them and I video tape them making out with me for as long as we can until it becomes uncomfortable or awkward." She had recorded just seven guys so far and she was feeling a bit down about her low number of subjects. When Jeff went to get more drinks and probably flirt with other women she confessed that she had developed a bit of a crush on this guy Jeff who she had just met because he is in an all beard-having, male, acapella group that sings Leonard Cohen songs. The name of the group is Conspiracy of Beards so it seemed a good idea to approach this group and try and convince some of these guys to make out with her on camera.

I asked her to show me how she would ask me if I had a beard so that we could see her approach and I have to say it was about as terrible as one could imagine. I gave her some pointers on how to talk to these guys and I suggested that she should go down to the Castro district and see if gay men would be open to the idea.

She told me she was writing my name and number down in her little book because I had "a special quality about me." I made it clear that I had no plans to grow a beard anytime soon so I doubt I will actually hear from Cindy, the Chinese chick with a wide-on for guys that look like Jesus who makes a weak attempt to hide her fetish as something resembling art.

I never understood why any woman would want to have a beard up rub against their face while kissing a man.

* I know you were hoping this post was going to be about how I had hot, kinky, sex with a little person. I can't say I blame you.