Saturday, 14 September 2002



And dirty old men everywhere CHEERED. What I wonder is: Can you grow it anywhere? Like, say, your armpit or your chin?

Poor rabbits. They catch hell in the name of science.
-- posted by Kevin at 9/14/2002 10:52:13 PM----comments(3)
While cleaning out my desk today I found an old play I'd been working on. I'd lost interest and forgotten all about it, but reading it through today...I usually don't get off on my own work (to say the least), but it's pretty wicked and funny. I think I might finish it, and see if one of the local theater companies around here would be interested in producing it.

It's called Meet The Bastards. It involves an obnoxious group of male friends, the stiffened body of a dead cat, a militant lesbian activist group, a retirement home nurse with Tourette's syndrome, a powdered drug which causes severe erectile dysfunction, and a person's conscience brought to hallucinatory life in the form of a giant...well, I'll keep that one to myself for now. The audience will (hopefully) laugh, but they will be ashamed of themselves for doing so.

I've also been batting around a couple other script ideas lately. I've never really been comfortable with the format (I usually stick with straight prose), although my old High School won an award at a state competition performing a play I'd written. Maybe it's just me, then.

I'll finish it and see what happens.
-- posted by Kevin at 9/14/2002 08:50:33 PM----comments(3)
It rained all day long here in Wilmington. Yesterday while I was at work the weather was beautiful. Figures.

The temperature is dropping, though, so for me that means PAINTBALL SEASON is right around the corner. Why Yes, I am one of those stupidheads, thanks for asking. Missed last season due to a lack of funds combined with too much work, but I'm really feeling the itch this year. We were all pretty hardcore about it for a while - building forts and sniper towers in the woods, buying specialized gun barrels, modifying all our equipment, dressing like morons, affecting retarded Code Names (mine is 'Joker' - one guy wanted us to actually call him 'LionHeart', but no one could say it through all the snorting laughter), inventing new and meaningless 'rules', getting into screaming matches when one of us felt like we were 'overshot', laughing at someone who got particularly torn up, etc. I got shot in the throat once, and my fellow player kept right on shooting me because I didn't call 'out'. I couldn't. I'd been shot in the throat.

It's fun!

I'm taking a camera along this year, and will provide pictures of our Bleeding Stupidity for you as they develop.
-- posted by Kevin at 9/14/2002 08:12:06 PM----comments(3)
My friend Jeff brought his Welsh friend Gareth along to the bar last night. Our pool game pretty much consisted of me standing around saying things like "Do you think you could miss one on purpose so I could take a shot?"

I also kept asking him to say different words or phrases because of his accent.

I am now officially an Obnoxious American.

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