Reminiscing, Got Me Feeling Kinda Low, I Broke Out The Everclear and Then I Drunk Some 'Mo

1:56 in the morning of July 4. This is the 4th time I've been drunk in the last 24 hours. There is some fool out on O'Farrell playing a recorder, which is the most incorrectly-named musical instrument of all time. It doesn't record fuckall, it just makes irritating noises that you want to get away from. If I was prone to beating up people on the street, that guy would be all hurty by now.

Last nite I was talking to some guy named "Dean," which I thought was amusing because I was drunk and when was the last time you talked to a guy named "Dean," especially when you're drunk? Anyhow, during our discussion about the neighborhood, I realized that the random street noise in the 'Loin really does aggravate me. It's not people coming home drunk from a bar at 1:00 in the morning that annoy me. It's the people who make loud, unnecessary noise at all hours of the day. Like some guy playing a recorder, f'r instance.

Goddamned depressed. July 3 of last year was my last day of work. July 4 was an awesome BBQ with a ton of friends, followed by karaoke at Encore. July 5, we were on the road to our new life in San Diego. I still miss her so much.

I've also never had a massage.



Also: last nite I suggested that a friend name her new kittehs Mr. and Mrs. Snugglepants.

I was laughed at. Just like Sarah Palin is laughed at every day, by everyone, because she is a clown. God, I always thought she was just a narcissistic egomaniacal weirdo, but her resignation speech is kind of a strange mess, n'est ce pas?

Anyway, Happy Birthday, America. Keep on dancing:

Of What I Think I Thought I Heard You Loved Me

I've been sporting a beard the last few weeks. I didn't make a decision to grow one, it's just that my laziness and dislike for shaving grew and grew and one day I had a beard and people I ran into lied and said they liked it. Which is nice -- I need some fucking compliments, people. Us needy, terrible insecure people thrive on them.

Of course, fat, slovenly and bearded make me look like Zach Galifianakis. And that's OK, because right now I wistfully imagine that people are better able to tolerate ugly people, at least this summer, anyway.

I'm gonna pick up a beard trimmer tonight from Walgreen's. That'll give me something to do besides drink.

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The Mark Sanford adultery confession thing was amazing. I was listening to the Slate Political Gabfest on Friday, and realized I had a very similar reaction to John Dickerson and David Plotz (I can't remember what Emily Bazelon said. But that's not being sexist, because she's pretty, and it always helps to pay attention to what pretty people!). Both Dickerson and Plotz seemed to go into it with some level of enjoyment and enthusiasm -- here's another idiot elected official admitting to sexytime with someone not-his-wife, and he's a southern Christian GOP-type to boot! Awesome!

But as they watched it (as I did), I became increasingly uncomfortable with it. I was embarrassed for myself for taking any sort of joy out of it. Sanford was a fucking trainwreck. He was really emotionally unstable out there, and was confessing to being an unfaithful husband to the entire planet. He hadn't moved beyond it, because he was still caught up in the moment, which is never the best time to go on TV and apologize for anything. We were watching a human catastrophe, and I'm not that into schadenfreude. (Also: it's not like Mark Sanford ever really did anything to me. I live far, far away from his shitty hillbilly state.)

Cheating on your spouse or partner or whatever is bad. I think it's really bad -- among the worst things a person can do in this country without breaking the law. And a lot of it is old person morality -- don't fucking cheat on your wife/husband/boyfriend/girlfriend! You only end up hurting the people you love, or at least the ones who love you. Especially if you have kids. Why would you do that? For some secretive, guilt-ridden sexytime? No thanks. I am a horny-ass bastard, but folks who are taken are completely off my radar. (Yes, even the really hot ones.)

And then I also get made because... look, I'm a single, straight guy. (All of the following apply to others regardless of gender or sexual orientation. Unless you're into bestiality, in which case you need to be shot in the head.) There are plenty of single, straight guys out there who need fucking. Probably a lot of single ladies, too. And so if a guy goes around cheating, he has not only taken one lady off the market (his wife/partner-person), but he's also removed another lady from the pool of available ladies for single, straight guys like me. You're double-dipping, and double-dipping is not allowed with either salsa or fucking ladies.

The fact that congressman, senators, governors and presidents have all been caught in the last decade or so fucking people who are not their wife also points to the stupidity and egomania these assholes possess. It's one thing when Joe Schmoe has an affair -- that's stupid and bad enough. But elected officials like these guys are famous, Important People, which means they have things like an army of staffers, PR people, security details, and reporter-types around them all the time, focused on you, the Important Person. How do you expect to fuck around and not have these people notice? Because then you're entrapping your staff-type people in your affair, because if they notice something is going on and don't say anything, then their complicit in the adultery. (Not saying they should say anything, necessarily, but whatevs.) And if the Important Person lies to them, then great, now they are not only being lied to by their boss (and quite possibly someone they admire -- their are a lot of idealistic idiots out there), but then disseminate that lie to other people.

Reporters don't have that kind of loyalty to an Important Person, of course, so if they catch wind of it then you're fucked. And they probably will catch wind of it, because they're paid to, and EVERYONE loves a good adultery story, even if they're too embarrassed by it to read the horny e-mails you wrote to your mistress in Argentina -- like me.

Of course, I'm also the forgiving, normally not-judgmental sort.

Politicians Hide Themselves Away, They Started This War, Why Should They Go Out And Fight?

Bit of a mind-boggling admission from Orange County Republican Congressman Dana Rohrabacher in today's Washington Post:

As Rohrabacher points out, drug legalization isn't politically palatable to a majority of House members who face reelection every two years. "If it was a vote - a blind vote where nobody knew who was voting - you would have overwhelming support for legalizing marijuana out there, but they will never vote for it because they are afraid of taking on a controversial issue."

Now, politicians are, generally, lying dirtbags. But I can't see why Rohrabacher would lie in this instance (I don't think he needs to win over Huntington Beach stoners to stay in office). Rohrabacher is a bit of a crazy libertarian type, like Ron Paul, so I'm guessing he's accidentally just telling the truth here (aka a Kinsey Gaffe).

But man, how depressing is that? The fucking politicians say they'd happily vote for marijuana legalization if only their constituents didn't find out! And then their constituents might get all pissy and be all, "We don't want you smoking your marijuana in your office and then giving it to my kids!" And they're afraid that some other self-important asshat who probably doesn't give a fuckall about weed but who sees the issue as chance at winning a seat in Congress and rocketing them to D.C. stardom decides to use that phrase as a campaign slogan to oust them.

Buncha fucking invertebrates. Hey, vote on an issue you think is best for the country, but risk your job in the process. (Yes, "risks!" You know, those things you are taught to avoid in politics!) You won't be "fired" from your job right away -- you'll be able to keep it until at least January 2010 -- and in the meanwhile maybe you could, you know, explain to your constituents why you thought this was worthwhile. You know, debate and argue and educate with them. (Sounds kinda... democratic, doesn't it?)

I mean, if I had the option of voting to legalize weed, and it meant that, 21 months from now I MIGHT lose my job as a result of it, well, I would balls up and vote hella yeah. Then again, my job, like most jobs, isn't anything like "serving" in Congress.

A couple of years ago I read a book review by Brad Carson, who'd been an Oklahoma Congressman before leaving the House to run a good but ultimately doomed campaign for Tom Coburn's Senate seat. I remembered one thing he wrote that succinctly summarized his view of life in Congress, and how much better that job is than almost any other:

Today, the unspoken truth is that, for a member in a safe district, being in Congress is one of the easiest jobs imaginable: free meals, discounted or free tickets to events, a two-day work week that never starts before noon, and more than $160,000 per year.