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Whoa how's this for livin la vida loca? I'm writing this on Ball And Chain's computer. She is sleeping two feet away from me. And snoring like a motherfucker. What I really feel like doing is taking this pillow from Pier 1 Imports that she doesn't use and smothering her face.
I'm also wrapped up in a thick blanket. I can see my breathe whenever I exhale. The cold is good for her circuits.
Anyway, to do this, I must be either completely insane or thoroughly bored. Probably the latter. I'm not insane. Just weird.
Kinda like the other day on the freeway; I was driving and I noticed a guy standing by the railing along the Kapiolani Blvd. off ramp. At first I thought the guy was taking a leak off the freeway. Then I thought he was gonna commit suicide. Then then, I realized that the pulled-over truck along the median, with the hood up and the hazard lights going, was his. He was probably just waiting for the tow truck or something. And I thought, damn that's pretty farking cool. I mean, think about it: the view from a freeway must be pretty nice and especially from over there, you could see a pretty original perspective of Kaimuki and Manoa. The trick is, getting yourself there to be able to see the view in the first place.
Mumbles' wedding wasn't that bad. I mean, don't get me wrong, I was alternately bored shitless, nervous as heck, and sacrilegious (sp? give a shit?). It was in a Catholic Church. Me and Dental Chick in a Catholic Church. That's just begging for it.
"When I first came for the rehearsal," Dental Chick said, "I was wondering who all the people on these stained glass were."
"Well," I said, pointing to the one in middle. "That guy on the cross? I'm gonna take a wild shot in the dark and guess: Jesus?!"
"Shut up," she said. "We promised we'd behave."
"You should start by taking your feet off that thing."
"Why? They're foot rests."
"Those are for kneeling."
"Oh."
"Hey, check that out. That's the confessional."
"Cool."
"It looks locked... Wanna break in?"
I was kinda nervous at the reception so Dental Chick asked if I needed something else to focus on. She proceeded to tell me about how Mumbles is convinced that me and Dental Chick are messing around behind Bald Flippie's back. We were seated kinda in front of the receiving line and Dental Chick said that whenever Mumbles hugged somebody, he's stare at us over his shoulder. And she was right. Then I proceeded to put my arm around her. And she'd rub my arm and put her hand on my leg. I'd lean in close and look like I'm whispering sweet nothings but in reality, I was telling her how I graduated from buying trousers from Gap Kids two whole years ago. All the while we were trying not to laugh. We're willing to bet that in the coming week, Mumbles is gonna have one of his famous "serious" talks with Bald Flippie and try and warn him that he thinks there's definitely something going on with me and Dental Chick.
Ah, mortals. They can be such fun.
Then there was the matter of the video. Aside from my conscientious objection for weddings in general, there's two things about weddings that my generation created and I can't fucking stand it. The first is that shove the money in the crotch and make the bride pick it out with her mouth while they're dancing. That's just unsanitary. It's a wedding not a strip joint.
But the one that really gets my poodle is the whole video montage thing. That shit is just cheesy and annoying. Bride hides behind tree and clueless groom looks for her. They suddenly find each other and kiss. And that I-Wanna-Swim-With-You-In-The-Ocean-Or-However-It-Goes Song by Savage Garden is playing in the background. Oh fuck I WANNA FUCKING PUKE!!!
But I got this brilliant plan, you see. I'm gonna go into business and script wedding videos for couples. I feel that culturally, as an island collective, we have outgrown the cheeseball, baby pictures, bad synthesiser, pop song montage. We now need dialogue driven wedding videos. Kinda The Blair Witch Project meets Jerry McGuire, or Singles. Some first person monologues directly into the camera, with Unsolved Mysteries inspired re-creations of incidents with semi-accomplished actors. I really think I could do well for myself. Especially with couples like Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles, who are utterly lacking in comic timing.
Speaking of comic timing, my business, Aaron's Wedding Emporium, would also take care of lines for the emcees. For love of the game, this is how bad it got: "Heh heh, hey Mumbles, I just want to welcome you to the Husband's Club. You know what that is right? Heh, heh. There's rules that you need to know now that you've become *dramatic pause* a husband. Heh heh. Always remember to put the toilet seat down. Heh heh."
Uh gee, could we have thought of an older fucking joke? I leaned over to Dental Chick and pleaded with her to stone me to death with the concrete Hale Koa poppy seed dinner rolls.
Speaking of Hale Koa, they really improved the hotel. It's really a nice place to take walks with cigarettes in order to escape cheesy weddings.
Mental note: kill Dental Chick. She gave Mr. and Mrs. Mumbles a monetary gift. IN MY NAME! Bitch. I wasn't being cheap. I was financially boycotting them since he didn't invite Yobo and The Good Mother. And plus I don't like him. And plus, I was just a fucking guests damnit! (Dental Chick also claims that she was just joking with my mother about my finances. I really don't know who to believe now. She looked genuinely thrown off when I brought it up and I can totally recognize it when she back-pedals.)
Speaking of smoking, there's nothing that brings people together like the Bellagio Hotel And Casino. I was wearing my Bellagio polo shirt and the waiter at Sam Choy's noticed it and he started going off about how much he loves the hotel and then we started to talk about craps. Nothing can bring a community closer together than cigarettes and Las Vegas. This almost gives me faith in a society that condones wedding videos.
I finally heard the title song for The World Is Not Enough by Garbage. Granted, I heard it over the Internet so maybe it was fucked up, but to be charitable, it's simply okay and after repeated listenings, it grows on you. But I'm really disappointed. With Garbage, there was the potential for something with an edgier feel but... I mean, some of the lyrics are appropriately, Bond-ishly decadent and dangerous but... sigh... I guess the worst thing about the song is that it's really slow. Orchestral. KUMU. They didn't even need to hire Garbage. It could have been just Shirley Manson by herself. In fact, it could have been any female vocalist. Even Britney Spears. Okay, maybe not.
That's really disappointing. This one had so much hope. It's sad really. The last good Bond song was a-ha's "The Living Daylights." The last truly great Bond song was Duran Duran's "A View To A Kill." And then someone got the bright ideas of Gladys Knight, Tina Turner, and Sheryl Crow. They are seriously shooting themselves in the foot in that department.
I really hope the movie turns out to be good cause I don't even like the poster. The font on the other hand... I like the European one better. The American version is too, white.
Wednesday, October 5, 1999, 12:07 pm
Of course, I spoke too soon. I should have smothered her with the pillow. Ball And Chain woke up around two in the morning and proceeded to start a fight about how distant I am. Well shit, you're sleeping. Whattya expect me to fucking do? Repeat "you're wonderful" two hundred times while you snore in my face?! Regardless, her hysteria ended with "I never want to see you again," and I was finally allowed to leave.
Granted, I'm not exactly sure if we broke up, but then again, this has basically been going on at least once a month for about four years.
I take back everything I said about the Bond song. I kinda understand it a little better now. If I was smart, I'd take this opportunity and fucking run. But I'm not.
I forgot what it was like to be single.
Argh. She cries wolf way too often.
And of course, I always fall for it and wonder whether I'm single or not until she calls.
I really shouldn't look a gift horse in the ass.
