Friday, January 30, 2004

Superbowl Weekend. Houston, Texas

Tonight my g.f.'s colleagues are going on a bar-hopping celebrity hunt beginning immediately after quitting time. (Which I'm sure will come a little early today.) I should tell them to give me a ring if Paris Hilton pops up anywhere. Not that I'm into toothpick blondes. But that is one toothpick blonde I would not kick out of bed. If you know what I mean...
Actually, they would have to reach me by cell phone (someone else's cell phone, as I am not the cell phone wielding type). We and another couple plan on a night at the movies and possibly a bite to eat. It's KILLING ME that I don't have some piece of Houston Oiler paraphernalia to wear around town. With all the Superbowl hype I feel the distinct need to root for our previous ran-away-to-play-in-another-state-with-a-better-stadium team. Oh wait! Yes, I do. I have an Earl Cambell pin! Packed way, way, away somewhere. Fuck, I've got to find it! I could spend all day looking for it. And I can't; I have to straighten the apartment in case we all arrive back over here to play Grand Theft Auto-Vice City. Maybe it will just come to me. If I were a shiny Earl Cambell pin, where would I be? Hmmm...

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