June 3, 2004


1. Briefly, we were in the streets, Cody was yelling, running out the door and down past the library, “move it, move it, move It.” like we were storming the beaches of Normandy. Eric laughs and runs at him and jumps into the air, sideways and catches him in the chest. I was laughing, bent over giggling, looking down to see my silhouette. It was a full moon, and the tides were heavy. Earlier that day there was a warning issued by the Washington state ferries stating that vehicles with extended bumpers and low clearance should avoid inter island travel. Cody and Eric began rolling around in the ditch, grass, leaves and sticker bushes all over them. Every one was laughing.

2. My new house. My new place. White. Clean. Open. Light coming in. washer and dryer included. Refrigerator, also white. Large counters. DSL. Phone. Cell phone. Music. Whole wheat bread, mayonnaise, Tillamook sharp cheddar. When referring to money say, “cheddar” or better yet, “scrilla” I need the “cream” if you know what I mean the system was whack so I had to scream. The bathroom is nice and large. Plenty of storage for towels. You could hide a dead body in there. Large mirrors with seven white lights up above. Good for popping zits. Cable TV. Been watching this one chef on the food channel who explains the science behind everything he cooks. I scratch my balls and scream “scrilla” Cody wakes up and says from the other room, “fuck James, I am late for work” I look around, Justin is on the couch, Eric and I are on the floor, there are pillows everywhere but none of us are using them. I look at the large white stretch of wall over my kitchen and think about possible art work that I will hang

3. Gavin calls my up and tells me that his grandmother has past away. My ex-wife and he are flying into sea-tac tomorrow. They give me the flight times. She is crying on the phone, I try to console her. She is pretty upset. Gavin however is fine, he just wanted to call and let me know that he is coming home early. He is talking about two guys on television that light fire crackers off of their balls and dress up like zebras and run around next to lions in Africa. I realize he is talking about “the wildboyz.” I tell them that I will meet them at the airport, maybe take them down to Kelso. I then call my mother, Chris, and my sister Laura and let them know what is going on. I need some “scrilla” to get this show on the road.

4. Decide to check and see if I have DSL yet. Reach over the bed with the phone cord in my hand and plug it in turn around and see that I have three solid green lights on my modem, “cheddar!” Click on WinMx and begin dl-ing the entire “streets” album even though I already ordered on from amazon.com and it’s out sitting in my mailbox.

5. Wes is online he types into messenger: [The monkeys were unaffected by the surgery, Nicolelis said. But now they had tufts of wires protruding from their heads, which could be hooked up to other wires that ran through a computer and on to a large mechanical arm.] He is refereeing to an article in the Washington Post: Monkeys Control Robotic Arm With Brain Implants... I tell them about this guy in Berkley that hooked his own brain up to a computer and could change the colors on the monitor with his mind. Make that shit wireless and you could drive cars with your mind. I remember this show recently on cable about these new cars that are being designed, their frames are only 12 inches thick and housing all the steering, cooling and engine systems, everything. It looks like a giant skateboard, or one of those dirt board things. The theory behind it apparently is that you could mass produce these, ship more (less size-less space) of them all around the world. Consumers could choose which shell they would like on top. You could buy different shells, a Jaguar or a mini-van. I saw Alan Alder from MASH driving around in one. He held a wireless steering wheel that looked sort of like an X-box controller.

6. I get up and make some coffee. Write a story. Take a shower. It is 12-noon... June 3, 2004