Well, the mother-loving testimony continues to plug along. I’m practicing reading it out-loud so that on Sunday I don't sound like a complete dunce fumbling my ne's and mu's. It’s been going well, I think. I still have three days to practice.
Yesterday, under the pretense of meeting some people from States (alright, alright, girls from States), I went to a bar that smelled like a urinal and listened to James Brown records with a bunch of people. It was more fun than I’ve had in a very long time. And, no man, there weren't any girls from the States. I just sat on a couch, drank a cherry coke, and told Superb Dan he was wildly misguided to say that Bob Dylan really wasn't all that great. Bob Dylan, man.
Can’t we just say we’re sorry? I mean, I’m very sorry. I’m sure most of us are. In fact, if you aren’t sorry, you’re a bad person. So let’s swallow our fricking pride and say that we’re sorry.
This is the worst news I’ve heard in a couple of weeks.
Please, also: believe in what you want. As you are believing in what you want, you will see pictures of me with Japanese women who are much older than me and for whom, yesterday, I acted as a sort of multi-purpose “ethnic” presence. This included explaining what the cooties are. And also taking my picture with some goats that totally weren’t into having their picture taken with me.
Endnote: I think it's weird that Elizabeth's site can be linked with the word "urinal."