01.21.2002 - Raw Fish Death Wish

I woke up at the crack of ten this morning to the sound of my ringing cell phone, and most surprisingly, I didn't threaten to castrate the person on the other end for disturbing my beautiful slumber. The Rodzilla took it upon himself to give me a wake up call to make sure I'd be meeting him for all-you-can-eat sushi. As I love sushi, Rod and making my fat ass even fatter, I jumped out of bed and jumped for joy like I was in one of those old Shasta commercials.

Because he wanted me to accompany him to Costco after the Obesity Olympics at the sushi bar, Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld picked me up to go eat. I'm glad Rod got to the restaurant early, because even at eleven o'clock, there were about fifty people in line for the lunch buffet. Our band buddy Shannon was with him and his friend Debbie (who I met at the retreat this weekend) joined us shortly thereafter. After keeping us out in the cold for what seemed like the length of a Ken Burns documentary, the restaurant finally opened its doors and we rushed the bar like they were giving away brand new automobiles. Apparently Rod and Debbie have a little competition to see who can eat more plates of sushi in a sitting. While she beat Rod, neither of them were any sort of match for Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld and I, as we beat their asses like they ate our last chicken pot pie. L-town straight represented on they asses. That's how we do it up in the L.

After we finally finished eating, I fended off a sushi coma to direct Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld first to the Grocery Outlet, then to Costco. This was his first trip to the almighty Outlet, and unfortunately, I don't think he was too impressed. I think this might be because he's never had to turn five dollars into food for a month. Then again, Jackson didn't like it at first either, and now he goes more often than I do.

After buying a few items, we moved on to the Costco where I purchased some chemical logs to keep us from freezing to death. I think we've pretty much bottomed out temperature wise and things should start getting warmer soon. Hopefully anyway.

Now, it was only about an hour after we had just put away enough sushi to feed an orphanage for a year when Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld distracted me from my purging session to tell me that he was hungry and he was going to get a hot dog before we left. In doing so, he succeeded in shocking me for the first time in years. I don't know where he puts it.

After Mr. Bestfriendinthewholewideworld dropped me off, I attempted to start this week's column, but I couldn't think of a suitable topic. I strolled out to the living room to see if I might be able to pull some ideas from the television, but I was distracted by the mess. When we got back from the retreat, Roommate Chris left a note for us saying, "I know the place is messy, I'll clean it up tomorrow." Well, it's tomorrow and it isn't clean. I'm getting pretty fed up with perpetually having to clean up after three people. This combined with the fact that we've been having an insect problem in the kitchen prompted me to write a decree on the white board stating that one's dishes must be done and one's mess must be cleared from the common areas before going to bed or I will do what I see fit with the items. I'm a bitch, I know, but I'd rather be a bitch that lives in a clean house than a nice guy who lives in an unhealthy level of filth.

Not surprisingly, this didn't help me decide on a topic. Regardless, I had to get started. I have deadlines to meet, so I just picked something random. It is a terrible idea. I wish I had someone to either a) give me un-shitty topics or b) force me to start thinking about my column more than twelve hours before it's due.

While I tried to write, I had to fight off advances from a girl who e-mailed me about my column and deal with a sore throat that was slowly gaining momentum in the pain and annoyance department. Finally at about two in the morning, I decided to give up and go to bed. If you can't finish your columns at work, what's the point of having a job?

Oh yes. I need something to help finance my sushi binges. That's right.

-- Jeffy