Things You Can Tell Just By Looking at Me

It's Funner When You're High

Saw George Clinton and P-Funk last night at Vault 350. The crowd was a beautiful rainbow of chocolate, from tall men who were the lightest shade of Obama au lait to tall men who were panther-black. Also, some white dudes, who ranged from courteous frat bros to courteous shlumps.
I could smell the weed but everywhere, but couldn't find it. Eventually I decided to just let it find me.

Guess what? It did!

It got a lot dancier after that (also: smilier with strangers). The music was still the same for many, many minutes at a time, and that was fine. Then the guitarry guy from System of a Down came up to jam, and I was mortified because they are stupid and screechy and they suck (especially that embarrassing singer). But he acquitted himself well. I couldn't tell how his actual musical output was, because I couldn't figure out what was coming from him and what was coming from one of the other 47 people onstage, but he was so happy to be there! And he was dancing and jamming and shredding (maybe) and he was representing very well for the Armenians and other assorted whitenesses.

George Clinton looks like he's 80, by the way, but the diaper guy is still holding strong.

I Hate People Part Eleventy Twenty-Seven

Long Tall Gina happened to be out smoking when the three guys who were leaving the Canyon Inn started to peel the Gore 2008 bumper sticker off my car.

"Hey, what are you doing to my car?" she demanded (see, she was pretending it was hers, in case you think I don't know the difference between various possessives).

"WHAT?!" they demanded right back, like "What's your problem, bitch?" Because having been caught in the act, they couldn't just go, "Oh, sorry man, tee hee, we're dicks" and shuffle sheepishly off. Instead, they had to go on the offensive, turning it into her fault for having caught them. "Gore? What the fuck!"
And then, the ultimate in klass:

"Why don't you get LAID?"

I hate people.