six forty three and never again to attend UND...

well, i actually paid attention to the lyrics of the neo-christmas classic "Baby It's Cold Outside" today.

could this possibly be the anthem for date rapists everywhere?

to wit:

female: i simply must go / the answer is no
male: mind if i move a little closer / what's the sense in hurting my pride?
female: say, what's in this drink?
male: but don't you see--how can you do this thing to me?
baby don't hold out / baby it's co--old outside!

fall-on-your-knees-o-night-divine, indeed.

addendum to preceeding:

huh.

second bar of three--as bartender (we'll call him "beef") pours our third round of two-for-ones, i submit that the city is considering outlawing such outlandish 'specials' to curb binge drinking. his noble response?

"maybe it would help if they'd give us something to do in this city!"

up for a scavenger hunt? there's at least one trope and a multivalent paradox in here somewhere.

puked all over my recycling last night...wonder if they'll still take it.

we are here to drink beer and live our lives so well that death will tremble to take us.

-c. bukowski

walter wants to go on the plane.

something's missing here...

it's raining gay men...with their severe pinstripes, their soap that chaps my hands and their wüsthof knives.

hallelujah!