a bird pooped on his arm.

heh.

yeah. so we ate at fuddruckers tonight. ol fuddys.

first time i've eaten there. possibly the last.

i gave my order, lady asked my name, i said my last name just out of reflex. she said what, said it again, she repeated, i said yeah.

watched her type down what my name was.

bulec.

not my name. not at all. but i do like it.

so i sat down with them, waiting for my food. while i waited i noticed this throng of people around the place you pick your food up.

thought not much of it, other than "why the hell dont they sit down?"

carlos got his food. jerry got his food. mike got his food. janice got her food.

crayon is foodless.

crayon is foodless for thirty minutes.

carlos gets up and talks to them because he's, you know, all dominant and everything.

they send him back crying.

heh, no, not really. they just sort of blew him off.

and somewhere between then and then this guy threw up.

but yeah.

so i got up, went around to the front of the line, where i placed my order, told them yeah, i had to leave. i wanted either my money back or it to go. quick.

except all nice like. all "yeah, so i've been waiting for about thirty minutes now. i really need to be leaving soon, so if you dont mind, could i have my food to go? or maybe my money back."

like ef huton they listened to me.

i waited there, as they cooked my food, and realized why i hadnt gotten mine earlier: the throng of people.

instead of waiting until the guy called out a name, whenever something came up, like chicken tenders, they would yell out "hey thats mine!"

and they would give it without checking names.

yeah.

so i got my food to go, ate maybe half of it, left, went and parked and went into the arena.

why the arena you ask?

because i was seeing a concert.

which concert you ask?

why, barenaked ladies.

they kicked my pleasantly plump ass.

but im getting ahead (or, nay, behind... heh, get it? pleasantly plump ass? behind? (forgive me, i am tired, i know not what i do)) of myself.

as we walked in we realized we had no idea who the opening act was. found our seats, had time to spare, so mike, janice, and i went to the booths to buy t-shirts.

once there i saw that the opening act was guster.

now guster has recently become a big favorite of the girl's.

oh, yeah, sidenote ramble: i told the girl what concert i was going to much earlier today. she got all jealous and i couldnt help laughing and smiling. i like that. i like when she calls me an ass cause its just like old times.

but yeah, guster was the opening act. so i got a tshirt with the idea of sending it off to the girl. this tshirt becomes important later on.

the girl and i have a shared love of bnl. she wants to have "like 10,000 of their babies." they kick my ass.

but, yeah, guster opened. then said they were giving away free cookies.

so i went with carlos and janice and mike to the cookies. guster came out.

i still had my shirt.

so, hence, i got the shirt autographed for the girl.

now im debating whether or not to tell her i did this or to just mail it to her.

i think ill just mail it to her.

if i dont burst between now and then and spill the beans and other sayings and tell her.

dun de de dun

bnl... good god. my throat hurts from the screaming/singing/everything else i was doing.

i need to find something to mail the shirt off in. ah well.

oh, and i need to find my keys. i cant remember after they fell where i put them... on the foot of my bed or on my desk. eh.

by the by: margaret atwood. great stuff. alias grace. i've got to mail that, too, to the girl.

and the perks of being a wallflower, whenever i get that back.

yeah, im tired and worn down. i cant keep this on one track.

question of the day: what is my inner animal?

feel free to email me with your beliefs on my inner animal.

and your inner animal, as well.

as for now i think im going to go, finish up this and that, and think about finding my keys.

oh, no, hey, i've got a flashlight.

i can shine my flashlight and find it.

i shall do it right now and share the details with you... can you tell i really dont want to get to bed?....ahh, yes, on my desk.