Tempe, Tigers, and Texas Tea

[OK, I'm curious. I want to know who from Tempe, Ariz. (pronounced tem-PEE, as my Goletan ex-boyfriend with the waterbed taught me so many years ago) keeps visiting this space. That Feedjit thing is a mindbender. Email me, O Tempean; I have an idea who you might be, but I can't be sure.]

[Last night I discovered with Allen and his new flame Abbondanzo that sake bombers are quite possibly the perfect shot. So perfect that we felt the need to repeat the experiment six or seven times. This was at that one Japanese joint on Castro, you know the one where all the employees are Chinese or Mongolian. It's true! Our server was just off the boat from Ulan Bator, and spoke excellent, charmingly accented English. As sloshed as we were, I do remember that she said the word for "yes" in Mongolian is "teem."]

[I then came home and there was more foolishness with Chris, and I ended up pretending to molest his cute stuffed tiger Tatiana. Tati (as I call her) and I are very happy and will be jetting off to Massachusetts to get married according to the Scalia Doctrine that once same-sex marriage is allowed, bestiality is next. That guy really put the dick back in dicta.]

[Today I will go see There Will Be Blood, more out of a sense of duty and the free ticket than out of any real desire to sit for two hours and forty-five minutes watching Daniel Day-Lewis be crazy and greedy in a part of California history/geography that I don't find particularly appealing. Better for me the Days of the Dons or the glamor of early Hollywood than the grubbing for oil in our version of Oklahoma. As a native of this here state, I want only beautiful things around me always, and not to know the details of what goes on backstage to finance the golden gorgeousness.]

[Later I will grocery shop while dodging the raindrops that now seem like they've always been a part of our lives, and tomorrow I'll refresh the homepage. That's my weekend. The End.]

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