#20: No Room For Interpretive Dance

Room For: THE END OF THE GOAT
Co ORGANIZERS COCK
COCK
COCK
COCK
A SLINKY LITTLE DRESS
A FAMILIAR COUNCIL, TIRED BUT AMAZING IN THEIR WONDERWOMAN COSTUMES TELLING PEOPLE ABOUT BUDGET SHORTFALLS OVER DONUTS. STRAWBERY ONES.

(a man on a train, filling a crossword)

POETS REGRETTING IT ALREADY
THE BEAST__ RIDE IT___ IT'S ONLY A YAK. DON'T BE SAD. EVERYONE LOVES YAKS.
NO ONE CARES ABOUT YOUR DEGREE!!!!
DOCTOR NOISE HAS COLLAPSED IN YOUR ROOM AND DOESN'T WANT YOU TO WAKE HIM UP UNTIL THERE ARE HOT NOISE BAND CHICKS IN HIS ROOM WEARING ONLY ELECTRICAL TAPE.

(there are no such things as hot noise band chicks.)

(they prefer to be known as burlesque dancers)

FUCK FUCK FUCK

THE SHOWER HAS BROKEN. THE MEXICAN FOOD PLACES ARE SILL PEN WE MUST GO WHEN DRUNK THIS IS CHICAGO AND WE LOVE BEANS. DEAMONSEED. WHAT?

A MAN COMPLIMENTS THE HORN SECTION WHILE WE PRETEND
THAT THIS IS SEATTLE AND NO OLD PEOPLE ARE SAD OR GET DRUNK.

FEET FEET FEET> FUCKING> TEN PEOPLE IN AN ELEVATOR---

Pacific City Has a Newspaper

It is called "The Sun." Today is the last day of a family vacation, about which possibly more will be said, or possibly nothing at all. Liralen is waiting for this computer, which does not recognize her name as a word.

. . . or a joke about cat slaughter.

Things heat up at Claustrophobia Central. Monday will be the second of the series, and I look forward to seeing how it plays at an outside venue.

Speaking of, I'll be making my way south again-- Marty and I will be sharing a two bedroom spot in Rainier Beach for even cheaper than one would guess a two bedroom spot in Rainier Beach would be. Right near the light rail, groceries, etc.

This has been largely perfunctory. I have been thinking about switching to a blog that doesn't have a title about fucking corpses, but that's probably just a sign of aging.

Notes from a Christian Wedding:

Jake: You know, if we go somewhere in town I'd like to get my good clothes on.

Ryan: Jake, you are so ugly that it wouldn't matter what you wear.

Jake: At least people love me and I am worth something, unlike you, who is worthless and the sort of person that people hope to go into a bathroom and find hanging from a belt.

Ryan: I've said it before and I will say it again: you make the rest of humanity look pre-fall.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

it probably didn't beat out Jess and John's for Best. Wedding. E-var. but it was top-five easily. And I've been to lots of weddings and in a few. the huge amounts of protracted, gleeful yet calm happiness in both Isaac and April was ridiculous.

and the camping bit allowed 1) a trip through the hard, throbbing metropolis of Chimacum, 2) actual time spent with groom and bride beyond five-minute "heywhereareyougoingforyourhoneymoonyoulooksoHAPPy" sorts of conversations.
3) opportunity for me to forget to bring a sleeping bag or blanket and get about two hours of sleep (in increments) on a blow up mattress in a drafty tent. oh man. 4) jake-vanquishing via rocks and clapping.

we had more fun.

**** ***** ***** *****

April actually had to ask pastor Pete to move it along. Ha.

_

sunburns hurt. beaches are pretty cool sometimes.
so goes the paradox of modern man.

^= ?

as observed by Gusta, there were a lot of pretty girls there, but as I assumed would be the case, they generally speaking were all married or on a 6 month-2 year plan to be so, with a specific subject.

this is fine; I'm getting confirmed more and more that church-related events are terrible places to meet women, since even a majority of the single ones will just want to know if I'm going to make a really good husband




speaking of terrible places to meet women, Monday I'll be up at Poetry Night for Kate and Elissa's feature.

dagger, do as I say (sink with my life like a stone)

There's a bit of Swansea beach, near the library and beneath the Tallest Building In Wales (the restaurant is supposed to rotate when its done) that feels positively Californian, with the palm trees and a city-beach that is far sandier than any in Washington State. This is helped by the last few days' near-shorts-appropriate weather. Sometimes I expect Josh and Cliff to tap me on the shoulder and herd me to the car because we're late to meet Taylor at some wedding-related function.

This summer, apparently, there will be some wedding-related functions in the Greater Seattle Area. I've got the Dates Saved, at least on e-mail, but I really only know the girls involved as Ideas-- IE: Dude I'm getting married to____________. This hardly rates a lot of personal investment.

But yeah, palm trees and everything; I think I like them better here. There are, shockingly, (if you've ever walked through town any gven weekend evening) fewer assholes in Swansea. Or maybe I've never watched it get under my friends' skin and peel them down to something else-- doubtless I just haven't lived here long enough.

a view from the afternoon

to write something like "this is what all the older pubs look like from the outside" would be a broad, sweeping statement that isn't really entirely accurate. but I feel like I've been inside the Swansea Jack even though I've only passed it.

Usually on the way to here:

this is Swansea beach, which basically
stretches the length of the city, as is wont

to happen in "cities by the sea." I don't know why that's in quotes. I do like having a beach

within about a five minute walk from my room and plan on taking greater advantage of it in the coming year. hopefully in spring going there to study will be not ridiculous, with wind and sand all over notes, books and trousers. I only tried that once.

I often wish I'd spent my high school years a little less nervous about consequences and a little more like the person who instead of just joking about this sort of thing, actually did it:

The walls are blankwashed over now, but won't be for long.

not pictured, but I found equally amusing (mainly for it's grammatical qualities) "Rhodri Morgan eats horse shit whilst molesting turkeys." Also, as with any good library bathroom, you can learn all sorts of things about the sexual proclivities of Welsh girls. There's quite a heady debate regarding whether they prefer the company of English gentlemen or their Welsh counterparts. Both sides produce convincing arguments.

If you get tired of pubs like the one pictured at the top of this post but don't want to go to a chain nightclub, and you live in Swansea, you will probably at least once find yourself here:This is where I witnessed a very tall, curly-locked man in a football jersey standing in the middle of the room playing air guitar and headbanging the entire eight minutes duration of "Master of Puppets."

"word, dude."