that my super disgusting recently pulled wisdom tooth has no bidders with only a few hours left in the auction. it’s a gross proposition.
the only thing grosser than someone who wants to buy my tooth, would have to be someone who would want to swap wisdom teeth, i would imagine. brothers David and John proposed just that, which i respectfully turned down.
John flowed the Snoop Fund a buck, as did Hiram, my old pal from the dot com days. i have very few rules about donating to the Snoop fund, but one of them is, if youre my friend, as in ive been to your house, we’ve broken bread, you’ve been to my house, you’ve set me up with your sister, you’ve bailed me out of jail, i’ve removed a bullet from your tailbone, we’ve stolen hubcaps together, etc. you can’t donate to my car fund. it’s too weird.
otherwise, give till it hurts.
i did get a haircut on friday. for some reason i didnt think that it would be well accepted in the black community, but this morning a jay-walking security gaurd said, “g’mornin’, brotha.” so thats a good start.
it’s short. its barely an afro. it’s a mini ‘fro. a m’fo?
since we’re getting personal, ive been saving my nickles and dimes and i found a nice housekeeper who’s going to tidy my bachelor pad once a week. the hilarity is set to ensue.
in closing, may i say that although i havent published an opinoin about the Dick Riordan-led new LA Times newspaper that may or may not be run by Ken and Matt, i will say these two things: if you want to kick serious ass in journalism and you want to start something that others will call a newspaper, there are no two more qualified musical youth than the dynamic duo who pulled it off with one hand tied behind their backs in Prauge back in the day.
and secondly, the era of people asking to be called Dick seems to have ended, sadly.