Guy sits down next to a girl at a bar.
Guy:  Did the fall from Heaven hurt?
Girl: [Not making eye contact, nursing drink] Like a mother fucker. I still have bruises.
Guy:  What are you drinking there?
Girl: Solitude. I was really enjoying it.
Guy:  Can I get you another one?
Girl: No.
Awkward pause.
Girl: That's all the material you've got, huh?
Guy:  Well, yeah, that's -- um... yeah, that's... pretty much it.
Girl: Jesus, pal, I hope you last longer in bed.
Guy:  Actually...
Girl: I'm waiting for someone. Not you. You seem sweet, but take a hike, okay?
Guy:  Geez, alright...
Girl: Try those girls in the booth back there. They've been acting pretty drunk.


Bad to Worse

Story Notes:
Two guys try to jack a jewelry store just minutes after a successful 
heist, forcing them to turn their scheme into a profitless hostage 
situation when the police arrive almost immediately on the 
scene, responding to a silent alarm from the first crime.


"I know I should do something. All of western tradition, from the late bloom of 
the British Empire right through the early doom of Vietnam dictates that you do 
something spectacular and irreversible whenever you find yourself in or whenever 
you impose yourself upon a wholly unfamiliar situation belonging to somebody 
else. Frequently it's your soul or your honor or your manhood, or democracy 
itself, at stake."

-June Jordan "Beyond Apocalypse Now" (1980)

It's possible at this point I'm going crazy. My friends haven't mentioned it 
yet, but they're probably being nice. Either that, or we're all going there 
together and there's no perspective.

Throw Away Day
	Characters:
		Keith Ryan:
			A city-dwelling freelance architect 
		Mickey Ryan:
			Keith's junkie younger brother
		Jenna Tran:
			Keith's design school girlfriend
		Garret Banks:
			Mickey's roommate and friend from college

Mother reading a story book germaine to the main theme to her child (pretty obvious vehicle, but touching nonetheless)

There was a point to everything before, wasn't there?

Gnome Depot: A place to find all the things that randomly disappear in the night (unmatched socks, lost car keys, tupperware lids, etc)

"Wine and wafer bomb"

Tax-season diatribe/dialogs

"Quitting while you're ahead" just feels like quitting.

Random recurring theme: Everyone surprised by some character's age that's never explicitly revealed (bouncers, store clerks checking ID; "Huh. You really don't look that old")

Today in History, No for an Answer, Made to be Broken, Concussion, Dead Batteries

Colorsafe bleach, Heart Containers

"How do I hook up a job like yours, man?"
"Sell your soul to the devil. Then die."

Chinese lantern balloons (a la "Red Cliff")

I was down in Waikiki today watching the tourists burn. There was something calming about 
that and the gentle lap of the waves I could rely on to quiet the screams of panic rending my 
soul.

"Back from the doc's, huh? You gonna live?"
"Not forever."

2012.05.29 (Tuesday):
I was in the park today, sitting on the grass and figuring my way through a disappointingly simple puzzle, when an attractive girl separated from
her boyfriend on the pavement and walked over, hailing me twice since I tend to ignore the odd "Hello" these days assuming it's someone on the phone.
When she got close enough and I realized she actually -was- talking to me, I shielded my eyes from the radiant sun behind her and responded with a
friendly if confused show of teeth that looks, I'm sure, from the outside to be a cross between a snarl and a wince of constipation.
"Hi. What's up?"
"Do you need some food to eat?", she asked. I didn't really know how to parse that.
"Uh. Do I -- would -- huh? I'm --"
"You look very skinny is all. I'm wondering if you need food."
"Oh, well, no. I mean, I'm sorry for looking skinny." Lame. "I just had lunch."
"I wanted to ask."
"Oh, of course. I'm -- well, thanks for your concern. I'm fine, though."
Probably a bit of a lie since my un-sweatshirted physique (gorgeous day today) is apparently drawing this kind of unsolicited reaction now. As she walked,
away, anyway, I didn't know how to feel -- grateful, ashamed, in need of a shave -- I still don't.
Incidentally, this past Memorial Day weekend, my buddy Robert Yho confessed during one of our nights of drinking to going through a bullemic period while
we were living together in La Mesa. Go figure; this shit's really getting weird.