i know why my diaphram's sore

on july 28th, 2006, i received my first paycheck from the elephant room since may of 2001. in these past 5 years i have been working off my outstanding bar tab.

by january 2004 i had worked down from $1400 to $1200. since then i have not put any drinks on my tab and all of my hourly wages ($2.13 as a cocktail waitress, $4 something as a bartender) have been applied to my tab.

the last paycheck i had received prior to this one was in the amount of $.25. i still have it.

at the beginning of a 10am meeting on friday i somehow felt that i needed to say aloud "i know why my diaphram's sore."

hoff's comments, submitted by beth

"I'm trying to get on a sitcom or maybe even my own show, Travels with the Hoff," he said, prompting many, many unanswered questions.

The actor also threw in some info about his memoirs, which he said he is in the process of writing.

"It's about growing up since I was 7 and realizing a dream," Hasselhoff said. "But when I was out trying to save the world, I forgot to save myself."

That's from some article about his divorce.

Hasselhof was Sick, Not Drunk

the original story has been changed. this is how the beginning reads now:

Publicist: Hasselhof Was Sick, Not Drunk

Jul 27, 1:45 PM (ET)




(AP) Actor/singer David Hasselhoff arrives at the 4th Laureus Sports Awards ceremony, in this May 20,...
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LONDON (AP) - A spokesperson for David Hasselhoff denied a report Thursday that the former "Baywatch" and "Knight Rider" star had been turned away from a British Airways flight because he was drunk.

Judy Katz, the actor's publicist, called the story by the tabloid Sun "totally untrue."

Katz said Hasselhoff had not been drinking, but felt unwell after taking some medication for a recent arm injury and wasn't able to get on a flight Wednesday from Heathrow Airport to Los Angeles.

Hasselhof Too Drunk To Fly

Jul 27, 10:38 AM (ET)



LONDON (AP) - David Hasselhoff was turned away from a British Airways flight because he was drunk, a British newspaper reported Thursday.

The tabloid Sun said the former "Baywatch" and "Knight Rider" star was told he could not board the flight Wednesday from Heathrow Airport to Los Angeles. Witnesses told the newspaper Hasselhoff appeared to have trouble standing and told staff he was upset about his divorce from Pamela Bach.

He was allowed to get on a later flight, the newspaper said.

The airline said only that a male passenger had been refused boarding after he was deemed unfit to travel.

The actor's publicist could not immediately be reached for comment.

Hasselhoff's divorce from Bach was finalized in a Los Angeles court Wednesday.

Hasselhoff, 54, filed for divorce Jan. 12 after 16 years of marriage, citing irreconcilable differences. Bach, 42, filed her own divorce papers, also citing irreconcilable differences.

The actor has had several brushes with the tabloid press during a recent stay in Britain.

Last month, he sliced four tendons and an artery in a shaving accident at his London hotel.

Earlier this month, there were press reports that an intoxicated Hasselhoff had to be removed from the All England Club, which presents the Wimbledon tennis championships. He denied the claim.

texas showdown

she took a key out of her pocket and handed it to her girl friend sitting next to her.
"here, take this. if you're ever too drunk or too tired to make it home you can stay at my place."

girlfriend held the key and looked at it for a few seconds before saying "well, i'd feel weird about just coming over without calling or anything...i mean, what if you're with someone...what if you're not there."

"don't worry. i never let anyone stay over. and i never stay anywhere else."

"how do you ever get laid?"

"i only date guys that drive vans."

i've been healed

when i was a junior in high school i desperately wanted to go to the prom with this guy named ben baumes on a bicycle built for two.

this never happened.

now, 12 years later, i have lived out my dream. last night i went to iron gate studio's prom 2006 with ben lynch on a tandem bicycle. it was the best prom ever.

what the...

as they walked out of the theatre he put his arm around her.
"you're cold." he said.
"yes. yes it's cold in here."
"this would be a great time to do it. it would be just like fucking a corpse."

whaaaaaaat? did i really hear that?

yes, i really heard that.

bloody ivy the infected

Your Pirate Name Is...

Bloody Ivy the Infected

What's Your Pirate Name?

and what's up with me and davids?

that whole hasslehof thing reminded me of this dream i had a couple of years ago involving david bowie. and david and i were in love and we were at my elementary school where there was this big conference/convention going on and we were in the hallway talking to different people and then i turn around and the break is over and he's gone and all i can think is "he wouldn't leave me...we're in love"

so i run into the school auditorium. it's dark except for on stage and there is a sea of red afros in the seated area. it was a ronald mc donald seminar. i looked frantically over the sea of hair thinking i would never find him. then one ronald stands up and starts walking up the aisle towards me. he's wearing a trench coat over his ronald gear and as he gets closer i can see his eyes and i know it's david and he says to me "i'll come find you when this is over" then he grabs me and kisses me passionately and goes back to his seat.

i leave the auditorium and go into the girls room (we're still in an elementary school) and i look in the mirror and there is white and red clown make-up smeared all over my face.

oh and i just remembered part of another dream

that involved me and david hasslehof and me being totally in love with him...it was kind of a "big trouble in little china" set up. i can't get into it much more than that. but what made me remember it was me sitting at my desk just now typing and thinking "gosh my wrist hurts" then i remembered that while we were at donna's yesterday watching "so you think you can dance" she would flip the channels during the commercial breaks, and we stopped on that show "american talent" with david hasselhof and he had on a wrist brace.

it's snowing

i had this dream last night where i was at this party and i ran into this couple and they were going to buy a mountain of cocaine and asked if i wanted to go in on that with them and i said yes, but then walked away and ran into a group of chicks that i knew and we were all really fucked up and everytime i turned around this one chick would shove her key all the way up my nose and it would have so much sniff sniff on it that i thought i was going to have a heart-attack and i finally walked away from that area and forgot that i told these other people that i would give them money for drugs and so i forked out a bunch of cash and they gave me this huge golfball of coke and then they left and i was trying to hide it under my breasts because i didn't have any pockets but my breasts are pretty small, so it was kind of dramatic and noticeable, so i put it in my mouth and i was on my way to the bathroom when the cops showed up.

but the chick that kept shoving her key in my face...she was seriously out of control.

heartworn.

Joyas Volardores

by Brian Doyle

Consider the hummingbird for a long moment. A hummingbird's heart beats ten times a second. A hummingbird's heart is the size of a pencil eraser. A hummingbird's heart is a lot of the hummingbird. Joyas volardores, flying jewels, the first white explorers in the Americas called them, and the white men had never seen such creatures, for hummingbirds came into the world only in the Americas, nowhere else in the universe, more than three hundred species of them whirring and zooming and nectaring in hummer time zones nine times removed from ours, their hearts hammering faster than we could clearly hear if we pressed our elephantine ears to their infinitesimal chests.

Each one visits a thousand flowers a day. They can dive at sixty miles an hour. They can fly backwards. They can fly more than five hundred miles without pausing to rest. But when they rest they come close to death: on frigid nights, or when they are starving, they retreat into torpor, their metabolic rate slowing to a fifteenth of their normal sleep rate, their hearts sludging nearly to a halt, barely beating, and if they are not soon warmed, if they do not soon find that which is sweet, their hearts grow cold, and they cease to be. Consider for a moment those hummingbirds who did not open their eyes again today, this very day, in the Americas: bearded helmet-crests and booted racket-tails, violet-tailed sylphs and violet-capped wood-nymphs, crimson topazes and purple-crowned fairies, red-tailed comets and amethyst woodstars, rainbow-bearded thornbills and glittering-bellied emeralds, velvet-purple coronets and golden-bellied star-frontlets, fiery-tailed awlbills and Andean hillstars, spatuletails and pufflegs, each the most amazing thing you have never seen, each thunderous wild heart the size of an infant's fingernail, each mad heart silent, a brilliant music stilled.

Hummingbirds, like all flying birds but more so, have incredible enormous immense ferocious metabolisms. To drive those metabolisms they have race-car hearts that eat oxygen at an eye-popping rate. Their hearts are built of thinner, leaner fibers than ours. Their arteries are stiffer and more taut. They have more mitochondria in their heart muscles--anything to gulp more oxygen. Their hearts are stripped to the skin for the war against gravity and inertia, the mad search for food, the insane idea of flight. The price of their ambition is a life closer to death; they suffer heart attacks and aneurysms and ruptures more than any other living creature. It's expensive to fly. You burn out. You fry the machine. You melt the engine. Every creature on earth has approximately two billion heartbeats to spend in a lifetime. You can spend them slowly, like a tortoise, and live to be two hundred years old, or you can spend them fast, like a hummingbird, and live to be two years old.

The biggest heart in the world is inside the blue whale. It weighs more than seven tons. It's as big as a room. It is a room, with four chambers. A child could walk around in it, head high, bending only to step through the valves. The valves are as big as the swinging doors in a saloon. This house of a heart drives a creature a hundred feet long. When this creature is born it is twenty feet long and weighs four tons. It is waaaaay bigger than your car. It drinks a hundred gallons of milk from its mama every day and gains two hundred pounds a day and when it is seven or eight years old it endures an unimaginable puberty and then it essentially disappears from human ken, for next to nothing is known of the mating habits, travel patterns, diet, social life, language, social structure, diseases, spirituality, wars, stories, despairs, and arts of the blue whale. There are perhaps ten thousand blue whales in the world, living in every ocean on earth, and of the largest mammal who ever lived we know nearly nothing. But we know this: the animals with the largest hearts in the world generally travel in pairs, and their penetrating moaning cries, their piercing yearning tongue, can be heard underwater for miles and miles.

Mammals and birds have hearts with four chambers. Reptiles and turtles have hearts with three chambers. Fish have hearts with two chambers. Insects and mollusks have hearts with one chamber. Worms have hearts with one chamber, although they may have as many as eleven single-chambered hearts. Unicellular bacteria have no hearts at all; but even they have fluid eternally in motion, washing from one side of the cell to the other, swirling and whirling. No living being is without interior liquid motion. We all churn inside.

So much held in a heart in a lifetime. So much held in a heart in a day, an hour, a moment. We are utterly open with no one, in the end--not mother and father, not wife or husband, not lover, not child, not friend. We open windows to each but we live alone in the house of the heart. Perhaps we must. Perhaps we could not bear to be so naked, for fear of a constantly harrowed heart. When young we think there will come one person who will savor and sustain us always; when we are older we know this is the dream of a child, that all hearts finally are bruised and scarred, scored and torn, repaired by time and will, patched by force of character, yet fragile and rickety forevermore, no matter how ferocious the defense and how many bricks you bring to the wall. You can brick up your heart as stout and tight and hard and cold and impregnable as you possibly can and down it comes in an instant, felled by a woman's second glance, a child's apple breath, the shatter of glass in the road, the words I have something to tell you, a cat with a broken spine dragging itself into the forest to die, the brush of your mother's papery ancient hand in the thicket of your hair, the memory of your father's voice early in the morning echoing from the kitchen where he is making pancakes for his children.

hi daddy.

lb: "...sorry dad if that's too much information."
d: "i'm used to it from you."
lb: "that's cool."

the morning report. but different.

while walking back from lunch with mr. hunter harris we passed this guy at the bus stop on the corner of 7th and colorado. as we were walking by him he started playing a didgeridoo. at the bus stop. it was the most retarded thing.

he must have been on his way to barton springs.

with his jingle-jangle-walking-stick.

an interrogation. for hallmark.

"what's your name?"
"lisa b."
"where are you from?"
"upstate new york."
"what brought you to austin?"
"seasonal depression."
"what do you want to do?"
"i wanna spring full grown from the head of zeus."
"what do you do?"
"i'm a cocktail waitress."

i totally got a call-back.

"luckily the account representative knew CPR."

"in time, alert, composed, svelte, lithe, well-kept, independent, now a lone wolf--though an efficient wolf--in life's gray forest......"

i really liked that sentence. from "luckily the account representative knew cpr." a short story. by david foster wallace.

home for the holidays

i told him on friday that i didn't want to spend every day of a long awaited break completely hungover.

he laughed in my face.

last night he said to her "she goes for the sinewy kind of guys. lanky. no substance. couldn't bench press her if they tried"

today he says "what's up with the choices you make? most of them couldn't take a blow to the chest."

couldn't bench press her if they tried.