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The Portrait [Apr. 22nd, 2004|07:44 pm]
Today was a somewhat interesting day, I got up later than I should have, went to the cafe in town to try out the Wi-Fi hotspot. After a few minutes of clicking, I finally got some OK access. Then again, I've got cable internet and a wireless router at home, so I'm spoiled.
On the way I ran into Donna, a very nice artist who I often see at work. She's always doing watercolours, making movies, etc. So today she asks about the Dali book I promised to lend her, so in complete altruism I head home and give her the book, she lives right nearby. She invites me in, I feel more than a little awkward, and she asks if I'd like to sit for a portrait. She lives in a sort of a communal house, it's got a very open feeling and is near the big intersection. She's got talent, although I didn't find my portrait very flattering. I assume the artist usually keeps the portrait, unless you pay, so she asked me what colour I like, bluish-grey will look great. The portrait was done with charcoal on French paper, and my nose looked a little big, actually it was sort of Woody Allenish, but I liked it nonetheless.
That's about all that really happened, my family is mostly fine, Ross' hair is still blue, I haven't really cut down on the smoking, Mom's wearing a huge cast for her heel, and Dad's overworked. I think i'll go to Parkfest this May, Guster and Default will be there.
Monty Burns: Amazing Smithers. This anonymous clan of slack-jawed troglodytes has cost me the election, yet if I were to have them killed, I would be the one to go to jail. That's democracy for you.

S: You are noble and poetic in defeat, sir.

MB: Simpson, I shall make it the focus of my remaining years that your dreams will go unfulfilled.

H: My dreams will go unfulfilled? Oh no! I don't like the sound of that one bit. That means I have nothing to hope for. Marge, make it better please, can't you make it better, huh?

M: Homer, when a man's biggest dreams include seconds on dessert, occassional snuggling and sleeping til noon on weekends, no one man can destroy them.

H: Hey! You did it!
"In this house we obey they laws of thermodynamics"

"I'll have no more of your Vasser bashing young lady."

"I guess I'll just have to go hide in the crawl space"
"I hate it when he does that."

"There's just something so unwholesome about flying a kite at night."
This reminds me of my part-time friend Alex. Last thing I heard, he was in college in Hawaii, smokin' a LOT of grass. Wonder what he's up to.