Twitter dee that. Lately, I've been using the shit of of my Twitter. Maybe it's because of the berry, or maybe I'm actually starting to embrace technology. Jota, please ignore that second part. I'm still a firm believer that electronics fall under the "Man Jobs" category along with trash and pest removal.
Either way, I've been updating a fool, and even recruited my dear sweet Byn. Along with the updates comes seemingly random additions to my blog roll. Sometimes, when I get bored at work, I just click on random pictures, see if that person has a blog, and if I like their blog, then I follow them. Is that kind of internet stalker-esque?
I've found that I typically follow girls, and the range is far and wide. Some are newlyweds, some engaged, some single, some older, some younger, and some just plain fun. I see a piece of my personality in each one. And while I have no idea who these people are, I feel connected to them and their daily lives.
Goodness, I'm a cheese ball today.
Showing posts with label twitter. Show all posts
Showing posts with label twitter. Show all posts
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Monday, April 28, 2008
Summer Lovin'
I feel I've proclaimed summer is upon us about five times already this year, but here I am again. The first proclamation happened when a car full of high school stoners got arrested on my stoop for hot boxing their car on Venice Blvd. Smart. The second when Robyn came into town, bringing warm breezes and the return of Sunday Funday. The third, our first trip of '08 to Big Dean's and the return of live music on the pier. I was wrong on all occasions. This past weekend was the official start of summer in Venice.
Why now?
One, I went swimming this weekend. In the ocean. At night. With the dog. Obviously alcohol was involved.
Two, Da planned our first Venice to Santa Monica Bar Cycle of the summer. Started at the Whaler, hit Baja, Bar Jota (potty and beer break), James Beach, then Bitburger, Big Dean's, and King's Head. Please see my twitter for random, drunken updates.
Three, Sunday Funday has returned in full force. Le Deb calls on her way to the beach, "Uh, are you home? (pause) OK, good. Can I stop by to use your bathroom? Yeah, I'm like right outside."
After watching the Wizards lose to the Cavs, Jota and I made our way to the beach (south of the big guard tower). It seemed that every 15 minutes or so, someone new showed up. By the end of the day we had about 10 chairs, and 10 blankets sprawled across the sand along with beach toys and gossip mags.
Four, it was fucking hot out. Like 90 hot. It's April people. Venice only gets two or three super hot days a summer, and that's usually in July or August. Jota came home from band practice last night to me, sprawled on the couch in boy shorts and a tank with the fan on high. Even Duff was too hot to snuggle; he was passed out under the coffee table.
Five, I ate the most disgusting shit all weekend. Quesadilla for lunch on Sat, burger and fries for dinner. At least ten beers, one mojito. Smoothie (yeah!) and a Choco Taco for breakfast Sunday. Another burger and fries for dinner with two beers. At least I did Cindy and pilates this weekend. Officially on a detox this week.
Why now?
One, I went swimming this weekend. In the ocean. At night. With the dog. Obviously alcohol was involved.
Two, Da planned our first Venice to Santa Monica Bar Cycle of the summer. Started at the Whaler, hit Baja, Bar Jota (potty and beer break), James Beach, then Bitburger, Big Dean's, and King's Head. Please see my twitter for random, drunken updates.
Three, Sunday Funday has returned in full force. Le Deb calls on her way to the beach, "Uh, are you home? (pause) OK, good. Can I stop by to use your bathroom? Yeah, I'm like right outside."
After watching the Wizards lose to the Cavs, Jota and I made our way to the beach (south of the big guard tower). It seemed that every 15 minutes or so, someone new showed up. By the end of the day we had about 10 chairs, and 10 blankets sprawled across the sand along with beach toys and gossip mags.
Four, it was fucking hot out. Like 90 hot. It's April people. Venice only gets two or three super hot days a summer, and that's usually in July or August. Jota came home from band practice last night to me, sprawled on the couch in boy shorts and a tank with the fan on high. Even Duff was too hot to snuggle; he was passed out under the coffee table.
Five, I ate the most disgusting shit all weekend. Quesadilla for lunch on Sat, burger and fries for dinner. At least ten beers, one mojito. Smoothie (yeah!) and a Choco Taco for breakfast Sunday. Another burger and fries for dinner with two beers. At least I did Cindy and pilates this weekend. Officially on a detox this week.
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