I thought it kind of my friend to leave those chocolate eggs in my fridge. She had needed a place to crash for a while. Since I was out of town, I offered up my place, provided she didn't go around snooping through my porn stash or crack needles. (I kid, I kid!)
"It's so hot out here," muttered Poppy the pigeon. The fountain in the park invited him for a spell. He soared down, perched on the edge, and jabbed his tiny pigeon head into the stream. "Ahhh, refreshing." It was. The fountain's water was really refreshing.
Nearby, something squealed. Poppy popped up. Two boys were skateboarding down the park. They were weaving in and out of terrified pedestrians. And both weren't wearing helmets.
So here's how it went down:
I'm on a Delta Song flight from JFK to SFO. The plane is mostly packed. I'm towards the rear. Although it's around dinner time, the lights are dimmed, and most of the passengers are asleep.
Barney cautiously leans over the "pad thai" and sniffs. Sniff sniff.
Suddenly, a tendril of pad thai leaps up and grips his nose. He yelps! The tendril snakes into his left nostril and out the right one.
"Guess who I saw in the bathroom today?"
"Who?" we asked.
His eyes blazed and he jumped in his seat. We could tell he had something juicy to tell us.
"I just don't get chicks."
With a coffee in hand, I leaned back and regarded my friend. "C'mon man, who really ever gets chicks?"
"Did I tell you about that date I had last weekend? It was with this girl I really liked, but throughout the date, she didn't seem that interested in me?"
There are Pale Ales on the table. The lighting is dim. A chilly draft brings in much-needed fresh air. The other patrons provide gentle murmurs for ambiance.
"What really gets me," Ken says as he grips his beer tightly, "is that she can say one thing, and then do something else."
I don't win many awards. Hardly any, in fact. So it was a big surprise when I won the Program Guide Cover Contest for DECA's NY Conference in high school for a second year in a row.
The main speaker was pretty surprised too, apparently. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
Date: June 2 To: Mike Lee From: Friend in IT Subject: [fwd] [re] [fwd] [re] [fwd] [re] I can still smell you...
hey mike, here's the full thread. I reordered it so it's in chronological order. it's funny as hell. it's like a friggin soap opera. don't these people know that my job is to monitor work emails? they shouldn't be sending crap like this at work. but what the hell. makes my job more fun. heh. enjoy!
It's not that Kris is unintelligent. Far from it. Her Ivy League graduate degree is plenty proof of that. In fact, she's one of the most intelligent people I know.
It's just that… well… let me tell you the story and you can see for yourself. (She's going to hate me for this.)
Weekly random rambles, musings & writings of Mike Lee in San Francisco, CA