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It Always Rains In Aiea.
I forgot, on Monday I was guilted into having dinner with the East Coast section of my father's family. Since one of the members of said family hadn't eaten there before, we all met at ZIPPY'S. Okaaaay.
Anyway, I met some cousins for the first time and all I can say is, WHAT A BUNCHA FUCKING DORKS! Everytime the waitress came by, I was embarassed to even be sitting at the table with them. (All my "cousins" married haole. Ugly haoles. Ewwww...)
No one seemed to notice that as the meal progressed, I was slowly mocking and imitating their Boston accents.
I'm so evil. But it was the only thing keeping me going. As if they weren't mocking me: "So Aaron, what are you doing now?"
"Umm, well... Not much really."
"Ohh..."
My aunty was the worse one. As my mother later informed me, "She's the artsy fartsy one. She also never had to work a day in her goddamn life." Apparently my father told them ALL that I write, and so I'm seated next to her and she's asking me all these fucked up artsy fartsy questions. "How concerned are you about taking stands on Hawaiian culture in your writing?" and my personal favorite, "What's the deal with those Harry Potter books?" HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?! Thing was, she was so obliviously sincere, that I didn't have the heart to tell her that nothing makes me more happy than creating two living, breathing characters and having them shoot guns at each other for the next two hundred pages. I vaguely remember meeting her years ago and I remember not liking her very much back then either. She didn't like Sneakers. How can anyone NOT LIKE Sneakers?
Thank God my father doesn't know about the newest publication. I really should just start writing under another name already. What a minute, I'm already... Nevermind.
Saturday, December 4, 1999, 2:46 am
I swear to God, if one more decrepit walks up to me and asks me for just three dollars cause his car got stolen, he ran out of gas and had no money... I mean, don't get me wrong or anything but fuck, I'm the absolute last fucking person to solicit money from cause I'm fucking UNEM-FUCKING-PLOYED!!! I was so fucking pissed off when this totally fucking stoned and shit-looking guy actually walked into the restaurant and up to my table and gave his song and dance about how his car got stolen and his wallet was in there and blah blah blah. And the fucker had the gaul to put his grimey paw on my shoulder. "C'mon brah, just three dollars..."
They seriously need to create a whole new storyline already. I should've offered to call the police for him. I'm sure they would take him home. I mean, at that time of night, how is he gonna manage to get home with only three dollars? Cab rates aren't cheap.
Tuesday, December 7, 1999, 11:57 am
I'm sick again. I figure I average once every two months already. For Christmas, I want a new immune system. I think it's about time for me and Panther to finally quit fucking smoking already. The prospect of a millenium without smoking isn't quite as scary when your chest is congested.
My fever is killing me. I can't concentrate on any projects, nor can I sleep. I'm watching a lot of TV. I just saw one of my favorite story-arcs of The Equalizer. It's the one where Edward Woodward had a heart attack in real-life so they created this huge plot that had Robert Mitchum as the Southern Control and they all go hunting for McCall. It was one of the coolest entrances ever. Mickey and McCall's son spend an entire hour looking for the Southern Control, and finally, they end up in the backseat of a Rolls Royce and the panel slides down and you see Robert Mitchum in the front seat, holding an uzi and going, "You have five seconds to tell me why you're looking for me or I kill you."
I think I need another shot of Robitussin.
I just saw a really weird for commercial for a perfume called Dolce & Garbonzo (I think.). Man on a beach notices a woman changing into her bathing suit. He's holding a squid and he's watching her and her squeezes the squid. (Is this some sort of euphemism I haven't heard of?) Then he notices she dropped her black panties on a cactus plant. Next you see him sitting in an Italian village outside her window while she sleeps in her bed. He's holding the panties and he bites it. I guess that's not so strange after all. I used to do that all the time in high school.
I like this "that's holidays" Gap commercial. They use "Cool It Now" instead of "Ice Ice Baby." It makes me wanna go out and buy an orange fleece sweater.
I'm watching Talk Soup now. There's black people fighting on Jerry Springer. I think I'm gonna punctuate all my statements with "yo!"
Ooh, The Real World: Ruthie's drinking period. Ooh, she broke a glass. Well, she DID lose a zoom Elph. I wanted that camera. I wonder what camera Mom got me for X Mas. Matt: "I sense the torture in Ruthie's soul." HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I still think they're just not used to local chicks drinking. Kinda reminds me of that time... Ho shit, that was a while back. My ex... I was partying at my friend's house that night and my ex's best friend calls and tells me that my ex was REALLY drunk. (Granted, it was a few months after her father died and she was having some trouble coping. Shit, the brother ran away from home back then and I remember driving all over the island at 2 in the morning looking for him.) So I borrow my friend's prized possession, his muscle car, and I drive on over, and she's going nuts, and then she cracks the bottle of Bacardi 151 outside the apartment and we're yelling and screaming at each other at midnight in McCully and then she gets into her car like she's going somewhere, except I parked my friend's muscle car right behind her and... Finally, I'm like, "I don't give a shit what yo do. Go and kill yourself, just don't back into THAT car or there's gonna be a fucking world of trouble!" Man, that was a night. When I finally got back to my friend's house (I give him credit. He was totally worried about me using his car, and when I drove into the garage, he was waiting for me. But he didn't say anything. That must have took a lot of self-control. I decided not to tell him how close the car came to getting rear-ended.), that was the only night I was shooting straight vodka. And the andrenaline was eating it all up too. Then I remember that Lestat's friend was convinced that the government was hiding the cure to cancer, and this was way before The X Files.
That was a helluva long time ago. I'm growing ooold.
End Of Days was really fun but it totally didn't fucking make sense. Not like you go to a Schwarzenegger movie for it to make sense but still... Rod Steiger says images appear upside down and backwards, therefore 666 is actually 999 and double-therefore, Satan comes in 1999. But umm, what about the "1?" Turn that upside down and Satan is coming in 6661. I wonder what kinda millenium bug probs they'll have...
Gabriel Byrne was cool and all, but Al Pacino was a better Satan.
Here's one thing I didn't really get about the movie either. Satan must impregnate that girl between 11pm and midnight on New Year's Eve. Only during that time period. Why didn't someone else just get the girl pregnant before Satan got to her? That would have solved everything wouldn't it? She was kinda cute and all so it's not like it would have been a chore to bang her or something...
