* * * Last night Fred and I were watching TV. We’d just finished watching our taped episodes of The Shield and That 70s Show, and were waiting to see who’d been voted off American Idol, and we hate all the filler they do (I can’t even believe they have the utter gall to stretch the results show to an hour), so Fred was flipping channels in search of something to fill the time until the result was announced. We ended up on poker, and you can imagine how thrilled I was. I got bored inside of 10 seconds, so I started reading a magazine. At some point I realized that a clicking noise was drilling through my eardrums and into my brain, and I looked up to see that one of the players was making the clicking noise with his chips. “I wish he’d stop doing that,” I said. “I think he’s nervous,” Fred said. “Some of the guys get really fidgety. And then there are the other guys, like the one with the cowboy hat on. Hoyt. He’s from Alabama.” “Oh yeah?” “Yeah. He sits there with his hat on and dark glasses so you can’t see his eyes, and he doesn’t even move. He’s like a little Bubba. Uh. Buddha.” We laughed, and a few minutes later, Fred went on to say, “I had it right the first time, he’s like a Buddha! Uh. Bubba.” First day with the new brain, you know.
My father sent this picture from Hawaii (I have no idea who those people are). I was a little excited about going to Hawaii in July before, but now I can’t wait!
“I am struck with the urge to raise my ass in the air, but I don’t know why…”
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