The Insidious Mask of Dr. Randandom

My recalcitrant body still refuses to cooperate and come back to optimal working order. Last night I alternately lay awake and read until five this morning; today I have lovely cough reminiscent of Doc Holliday's plus occasional hot and cold flashes.

What this means for me is: a nap immediately after work so I have my head screwed on somewhat strait in time to watch the Red Sox take on the Yankees.

What this means for you is: a post of random observations, factoids and blurts strung together in an unhinged fashion, like cheap beads on one of those cruddy necklaces you made at summer camp. Because despite my illness, you know I got the love for you. Aaaaw yeah.

So... Austin. Austin involved a lot of eating. Brunch at Threadgill's. Dinner at The County Line, involving big Fred Flintstone size ribs. Dinner at a really good Tex-Mex restaraunt whose name escapes me at the moment. Two breakfasts at Kerbey Lanes. You get the idea.

There was also, of course, a trip to a used bookstore, where I bought nice cheap copies of this and this - not that I actually need more books. I just need them.

George Clinton was on my Southwest Airlines flight home. Checked in at the gate (boarding group C) all by himself, no entourage. He's a big man in real life.

I am so buying this. Yes, I'm a big geek.

I eavesdrop. Not in the creeping-about, ear-to-the-door manner - more like sitting in a bar or at a bus stop listening to people ramble on. It's diverting and entertaining, and very easy to do in this age of the cell phone and people who INSIST ON SCREAMING INTO THEM IN PUBLIC. And to the young woman wondering 'why are there no good men left?' Why that's easy - we're listening to you rationalize why you stay with the latest in an undoubted long line of assholes that you've dated.