local6.com - News - Six-Legged Lamb Born In Belgium

I wish I had six legs. I mean four legs. Whatever.

local6.com - News - Six-Legged Lamb Born In Belgium

developments

1) 101 fever, flu-like symptoms, meningitis-like symptoms (stiff neck? sore...head?), middle ear infectiong, amoxicillin, cough suppressants, ibuprofen, acetomeniphen, expectorants, hankerchiefs; the first bona fide sickness in five years or more?;

2) #1 coming in light of New Orleans volunteer work, garbage, tracts of unusable housing stock, trash cans literally full of shit (or *whatever* that was), Katrina floodwater still in the bowls in the kitchen, getting sprayed in the face by shitty floodwater retained in the paper towels, Tyvek suits and fear of rusty nails;

3) #2 happening in the day, FEMA tent city in Camp Algiers happening at night - 1,300 undergrads and church groups (think hackey sacks, bongos, "ultimate," mess hall spare ribs, shower trailers, probably lots of making out, Bibles everywhere) - + some not-so-sloppy drunkenness/flu-like symptoms on Bourbon Street + shrimp po' boys;

4) #3 happening after following a vanload of nice but racist Kansas City Baptists to Billy Graham/Franklin Graham's New Orleans revival ("A Celebration of Hope") = terrible musical acts (soft rock, crappy country fingerpicking, pornographic Jesus's-blood-n-gore songs) + 30 minutes of unspectacular bland platitudinous sermonizing by Franklin and then 20 minutes of watching other people going down onto the "field" to be personally touched by Franklin Graham('s pamphlet-distributing minions);

5) Flying home early to convalesce;

6) Moving to the 'Wick;

7) Needing furniture;

8) Playing in a band, Extra Super Hold, on bass guitar and vocals. Galapagos in Williamsburg on Thursday at 7p, be there/square;

9) Stressin' out, not doing ICWA, blogging instead.

Inflammable

Why does "inflammable" = "flammable"?

I'm flammergasted.

mouth punching

This weekend I went to New Haven and, while supine in the dark on a futon, was punched in the teeth by a belligerently drunk hapa woman. Happily, my apparently resilient gums retained their grip on that tooth which my dentist brother Richard identifies as 1.1 (first quadrant, first tooth), so I did not have to sue for battery/infliction of emotional damage brought on by the sudden ugliness of gap-toothedness.

Otherwise life lurches forward. My coldest comfort this week has been the pleasure of applying what I am learning about statutory interpretation in my Administrative and Regulatory State class (in United States v. Marshall) to my current state of disarray; namely, the court's definition of a "mixture." If LSD sprayed onto a piece of blotter paper is considered a mixture, then the twined lives of 2092 8th Avenue was certainly a mixture, too. Through plying the clothes in the closet and the books on the homemade shelves, I have learned that in the course of four years of a life together everything that could be commingled or shared was commingled and shared. Let's have done with the actuarial division of property - I'm doing it all by myself!

In less suicidally depressing news, I found a place out in that real estate fabrication called "East Williamsburg," which if you'll listen carefully, is actually pronounced "Bushwick." There is a dog door and a cement "garden" out back and an albino shepherd named Georgia Brown, so my groom Boo will be well accommodated. Moving begins this Saturday followed by a week of my favorite sport, surfing, to be played out atop the cresting plush waves of my favorite people's hide-a-beds and futons. Then it's off to New Orleans for the 2006 IFOCE gumbo-eating contest. I'm hoping to beat Kobayashi this year.