"why yes! i would love to go with you because you are the neatest person ever to walk the earth!"
"i'm sorry to do this in an email, but you're just not pretty enough for me and, well... and your ass is just far too large for me to handle. you'd have to date someone like paul bunion if you want your ass handled."
and then i said:
"paul BUNION? are you insane?!? everyone knows it's spelled B-U-N-Y-A-N! if you're going to ditch me via email and try to burn me in the process, the least you could do is google PAUL BUNYAN first!!!"
and then i went to see primer. it had potential, but in the end, it just left you saying "what?".
saturday was to be one of the first leisurely, getting-things-done kind of days i'd had in a long time until i was drawn out of bed at 9am by a phone call announcing an onslaught of political work. by the time i had finished and gotten in the bath and gotten out of the bath to fix one of the campaigns and gotten back in the bath and gotten out of the bath, i had an awkward amount of time left with which i chose to waste completely and become depressed because i hadn't left the house all day (and it was fucking gorgeous outside to boot).
that evening, NJ showed up looking like a fancy moritician and we left to attend the wedding of his friend sonny which took place on the roof of the South Side on Lamar lofts. the dj spun all of our old middle school soft rock sadie hawkin's favorites like journey and lionel ritchie before switching to the inevitable wedding disco tracks so everyone under 3 feet could dance. all i know is that there was a keg and i'm pretty sure it contained something along the lines of Coors Light. fuckface dave, fuckface dave's woman amy, NJ, and i spent approximately three hours quantifying this. dave also taught me how to disable the flash on my digital camera...
i won't say much more about the rest of the night except that it involved a rather random trip to the walgreen's on ross avenue where the following items were purchased:
amp (a red bull knock off)
1 XL orange sweatshirt
1 L hot pink sweatshirt
(we did not purchase the over-sized grape freezer pops at the counter which resembled oblong bags of deoxygenated blood.)
i won't say much more about the reasoning behind the purchases except at one point, NJ was wearing the pink sweatshirt as a shirt and the orange sweatshirt as pants while i did my best to hide my eyes and scream in agony. and it's not what you think... whatever that might be.
since i had all day sunday to soak up the sun, it was horribly overcast and humid. NJ stood guard as i drove to the records building downtown to vote (god... i just can't wait to do it again on tuesday). since he was feeling famished and faint as usual, we went to fadi's so he could graze like a little bunny rabbit before hitting the magnolia for i heart huckabees. even though i don't feel the second half was particularly cohesive, i still rather liked it. maybe it's just because i could say, at random moments during the movie, things like:
"look there. it's marky mark and jason schwartzman riding bikes down the street together."
"hmmm. jason schwartzman is whacking off jude law's head with a machette."
"wow. lily tomlin and dustin hoffman are making out."
isn't that enough? do you really need more out of a movie?
after that, NJ took me to see his new place-to-be where he simultaneously trespassed while lying to his new neighbor-to-be by telling him he's a realtor. please. a realtor?
after dining at cosmic cafe, NJ came back to my place and just when i thought we were about to hit the sack together, he said:
"oh my god! are you insane? i told you on friday i was done with you! i insist you take these manacles off of me right now and let me go home!!!"