Wednesday, February 19, 2003

One of the great ironies of the entire initial hook-up is that you, that being me, can't help thinking that it's because I have something awfully irresistable to offer that woman. When, in fact, there's 50% of the population walking around with that irresistable. Maybe 10% as cute as I am. Maybe, actually, less than .00001% (Although I may have done the math wrong, obviating that point.) as smart as me. Probably .03x10 to the 9th as self-assured as I am. But that first figure is hard to beat. Statistically speaking. It all comes down to getting over yourself, that yourself being me. 11:50:25 PM

I've realized over the last few days of gray snowy weather that the monkey tower man does not seem happy.   Michael's car is winking its right headlight. I rang his doorbell, but he never answers. I like mechanical better than electronic. So much easier to repair.   8:24:18 PM

I should clarify that I was speaking of Lyndon, not Andrew, Johnson in the previous post. I met a friend at a bar on my way home who commented on how good I smelled. Whch I realized, as stinky and sweaty as I was from work, despite her saying I smelled like Ben, had more to do with the fact that I entered a really, really smoky bar, coming from the fresh air. Some unshowered half-man half-Irishsetter homeless creature could walk into CBGB's and smell like ambrosia. 12:15:54 AM