-Some plant or plant dwelling hell-creature stung my hand and turned it into a rubber glove full of pink goo.
-As my status with the lovely Aspen girl, who refuses to make out, progresses, I found myself jumping up and down on home plate and missing the base-rounding.
-I survived the Temptation Island weekend of two hot ex-girlfriends and some gorgeous latina sitting at the bar by herself, being set up with me by two drunken old ladies from indiana, who got relinquished to an ass-hole bartender.
-One of said drunken old ladies informed me that most guys either have girlfriends or are assholes. My lack of hitting on gorgoues latina reveals that I am either in category A, or still lacking the mack skills highly regarded in my days of adolescence.
-A Kona-doggy chasing an agile chupmunk around a living room is a good way to wreck a living room and a bad time to teach a Kona-doggy the virtue of patience.
-marijuana and waitering to not mix.
-I seek not refuge.
-Orange Juice has been upgraded to delicious.
-I'm going to the Jazz Festival today, which instead of jazz features gimicky musicians listed here followed by gimmick. Polyphonic Spree (robes), Keller Williams (too many instruments/lack of other band members), and Matisyahu (Judaism). Then Backpacking 3 days, then J5/Sountribe at RedRocks, then a few days of work where I will be lectured about taking too many days off, then more days off for Dalai Lama, Tribe Called Quest, and a Telluride Blues and Brews Festival, which will be my first attempt at Gonzo Journalism.
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