Bob was terribly excited about his new condo. That bitch ex wife of his had never wanted to live in the center of town, even when they were dating, and Bob had had quite enough of the suburbs. When the divorce was final, he signed the papers on a condo in the entertainment district the very next week.

He had spent many a happy night of drinking and skirt chasing here in this area, with all its bars packed close together. The girls still walked in packs back and forth between the places, though it seemed that there had been more people around when he was in his college days. The lights had seemed brighter, as well, but that didn’t bother him much. Surely it was just the soft focus of his memory.

His new condo was in a brand new building which had over 300 units. He figured he was sure to meet tons of single women living here, and had chosen a unit in the very center of the towering west wall of the building. Above, below, and all around him were brand new condos waiting to be filled with his new friends. He couldn’t wait!

The first night in the new place he came home from work and put his big screen TV and his stereo together for his customary daily news and sport program scanning. He kept checking his watch. He knew he couldn’t go downstairs to the bars too early lest he seem like the lonely, desperate, middle-aged, recent divorcee that he was.

At about ten PM he decided to walk out on his balcony and check out the foot traffic on the street below. He had a good view of several bars, one just across the street. Walking out on the balcony and looking down the five or six floors, he realized that his balcony was the only one lit on the whole wall.

Some frat boys leaving the bar below caught sight of his one window and balcony all lit up in the wall of condos, and his silhouette looking down. Bob waved hello.

One of the frat boys cupped his hands over his mouth and screamed up “YOU ARE ALL ALONE.”

Bob’s waving hand stopped, and went down to his side. The frat boys all laughed loudly and went around the corner, shoving and shouting at one another. Bob looked around at all the dim balconies. After a minute he went back inside and sat with his neatly labeled boxes and glowing TV.

He picked up the remote and flipped the channel.

I’m sure all of us have heard those radio commercials from time to time where the lawyer is asking if you have had this or that catastrophe befall you lately. If so, he will say, you should call the law offices of Balls, Legs, and Face for a free consultation.

I heard one tonight about some drug or other and the big list of side effects that the poor people who took it suffered from. Nausea, Vomiting, you know, the whole list. What caught my ear was when “Death” was mentioned.

Now, maybe I am barking up the wrong giraffe here, but it seems to me that if something kills you, then death is the MAIN effect. It skips right to the head of the list.

Bob’s dead. He ate some pills and now he’s got his arms all curled up around his tits. Was that a side effect?

Well, I think it was the main fucking effect thank you very much. He’s DEAD.

Man, I’m glad I don’t eat pills.

One of the roommates and I ordered pizza tonight. She ate a few pieces and left for work. I ate a few pieces while playing GTA: San Andreas, and another roommate also had a few. THere were about four left in the box when I put it in the fridge for safe keeping.

Just a few minutes ago I went to go get those four pieces, because I knew they would make a nice little snackypoo for the kid, and I am the kid.

I pulled the box out of the fridge, humming a little song to myself, opened the microwave, and tossed the four pieces in. They landed in the microwave with a SPLOOSH!

I stopped.

Sploosh? What the fuck, please?

Whoever used the microwave earlier left a big puddle of water inside the big plate turntable thing inside the microwave, and my four small squares of pizza snack were now submerged in it, being, such as they were, thin crust.

Damn you, careless roommates! From the heart of my garage apartment lair, I STAB AT THEE!

I remember eating lunch with my dad one day, and we were talking about sexual education because I was entering the 7th grade and I thought it seemed a little young to be learning such things. Truthfully, I was just embarassed, but I was a 7th grade goofball, so what do you want?

Anyway, Dad was saying that you can’t teach it any later than that because the kids are already having sex by then, and if you do it any younger, they won’t get any of it.

Looking back on it now, I wonder if anyone has considered that sexual education classes make those who haven’t had it yet want to even more. I recall thinking that I wished I were grown up enough to have problems like the chlamydia girl in the video. She seemed so cool and mature!

Man, it’s not easy being a kid.

I am the happiest lady in the WORLD!

I was sitting at a table with my friends Greg and Sam. They were eating but I just went to hang out because I’d just eaten a bagel. I ordered coffee from our waiter, who had glitter sprinkled liberally on his face. This is a custom in mexican restaurants with which I am unfamiliar. I’m talking about 1pm on a Wednesday and the man’s wearing glitter in a mexican restaurant that’s attached to a Ramada.

Thank god for the quirky details that spice up my life.

I was Greg and Sam a story which required wild gestures and loud noises, as all of my stories seem to, when in the middle of a sweeping arm movement I elbowed a full cup of coffee out of the sparkly waiter’s hands. Oops!

Greg saw me about to do it and he said “Oop!” and sort of reached out, but it was too late.

The cup smashed on the floor, creating a huge mess, as well as dousing our waiter in decaf Folger’s. He was a nice guy about it. I apologized profusely and made some jokes. A crack duo of lovely women appeared with mops and rags and whatnot and began cleaning it up. They both looked like they were of the age and style of dress to be atteding a cocktail party, but they still flowed around and cleaned it all up. One of them brought me a new cup of coffee, and I thanked her by peeking down her shirt. The lady pictured mopped and smiled and told me it was no big deal.

We all had a good laugh about everything and left that waiter a good tip for his troubles. The only thing I can’t figure out is why he was wearing that glitter.