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f. gary gray, peter sarsgaard, alcohol, manchicken, commentary, actresses, motherbitch, michael weston, blog novel, harrumph, robert smith, amsterdam, cannibal, pi(film), gabriel jeffrey, webcams, wizardsof haute couture, octavio gómez, party, connie chung, gardolins,
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They suck. Committing me to be somewhere at a specific time on a specific date, knowing that when that date actually arises, my good fortune will lavish upon me some inconsolable conflict... No thanks. Of course I have my fair share of when and wheres, but...I avoid them when at all possible. For example, for the last four years, I have insisted that my monthly pesticide directors service be an 8am deal. See, I will still forget directors the date of the appointment, but it won't directors matter, because at 8am I am usually only on my second cup of coffee, watching Fox News (even though I'm sick of it), and procrastinating the chore of bodily maintenance. Ergo...home to facilitate bug man entry. Gomer Pile was my bug man for a long while. So long, in fact, that I actually began to remember that I had an 8am appt with him on every third Thursday. Of course that wasn't his name, but the boy was such an intriguing blend of Gomer and Forest, that during his reign, the sociologist in me actually forgot to be inconvenienced by the extra 30 minutes I had to wait before hopping in the shower.
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