Saturday, September 18, 2004

I brake for footballs

On the drive home just now, taking the roundabout that directs traffic at the Lincoln Memorial, the football of some weekend gridiron jocks skidded out into the road ahead of me. Did I drive over it? No. Did I swerve? No. I STOPPED. Full brake, let the guy get the ball and went on about my business. I am a true fan.


It's Wheel of Toby weekend on up and win prizes whenever you hear one of your boyfriend's songs.

God dont' love crazy

My "you will sit down and talk to me" neighbor has made a friend. I'm listening to him and a young guy who lives in his building hick-it-up (windows are open and they're sitting on the stoop) talking about knife fights, puncture wounds, and telling stories involving women and the word "bitch".

A typical exchange:

Neck 1: "I can tell...if she turns the light on, she disrespects me.
Neck 2: "Mmmm hmmm. Bitch made a CHOICE to wake you up."
Neck 1: "That ain't cool...that ain't cool."
Neck 2: "I don't want to be woken up...'less she wakin' me up for a reason." (dirty guffaw)

Suffice it to say, I no longer feel any problem with my reaction from last weekend.


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