HOW TO HAVE A DATE


A date is only a Date if “money exchanges a waiter’s hands.” Just a movie? No. Quick Saturday afternoon fuck? No. With a Latte? No. Someone better be announcing their name at your table and it better not be you or your Date.

Wear your favorite shirt. Not the one that’s supposed to make you look sexy, the one that makes you feel sexy. That one.

Fret over your hair. Then bend over and shake your head hard like you’re shaking bees out of a nest. Look in the mrrror. This is what a human being involved in the Universe looks like, a throbbing bee’s nest.

Skip cologne. Skip New Shoes. Pick Interesting over Whore. Trim all your hair, everywhere. Hair surprises = crazy person.

Smile. All the time. Like Bozo on Exstacy. A Smile is like the lotto for everyone involved, win/win. Tattoo this on your the back of your left hand and check the time... alot. This tip may be the Key to Life.

Your e-mail can wait. Your laundry will be there. Everyone dies a horrid death on Joe Millionaire. You should be listening to your date like they are scooping out Manna and sprinkling it over your Lovespot. This is your chance to learn something, even that you have zero tolerance for Roided GymBunnies. Do not blow it.

Be ready to pay. Even if they snatch the check from your Savvy Urbane hand, be ready. There is nothing worse than a spoiled date. Offer it freely.

Don’t waffle. Waffling at the end = you make me sick. Kiss, shake hands, or sternly admit that you have been abducted several times by aliens. Leaving it “iffy” will suck your attention for the next few days like a ravenous, needy loser and Let’s Not.

Trust your instinct. The message is clearer than you think. You Know, he/she/it knows you know and you are not nominated for an Oscar. Honestly.

Ask yourself, “What do I bring to the party?” and make the answer “Everything.” There is no such thing as a Boring Date. There’s you spinnning gold out of nothing and there are a million better-looking, buff, stacked Rocket Scientists standing behind you. What’s it gonna be, Popeye? What have you got to lose?



11:35:29 PM    sro home /

AT THE STATION


Just sign the form, ma’am.

Oh that's sweet. Who do I make it to?

It’s a release ma’am. Just sign the form.

Thaform. What a pretty name. Are you married?

Pardon?

You know, married. To a woman. So many of my fans are faggots. Thaform. What a pretty name for you, baby.

I’m married ma’am.

Of course you are, honey. “Hush, don’t explain...” I been there, done that. I was a Super Model in Paris and let the man of my dreams get away. Billy Dee was a fine motha-fucka back then.

Yes ma’am. Now we need your fingerprints.

I realized I just wanted to go HOME. “Reach out and touch...” SING WITH ME HERE.

Uh, Miss Ross, we’re almost done.

DON’T BE SHY! C’mon baby, gimme your hand. “Reach out and touch...”

Miss Ross, you’re getting ink on my uniform.

“Somebody’s hand...” C’mon. SING MOTHA-FUCK!

Uh... “reach out and touch...”

There you go baby. Preach to Mamma.

“somebody’s hand...”

You sing fine for a white boy. IT’S ALL GOOD BABY! “Reach out and touch...”

We’’re done Miss Ross.

I LOVE YOU! I LOVE YOU BABY! THANK YOU OFFICERS!

6:15:50 PM    sro home /

I love your weblog.

Your entry about death the other day is so fucking beautiful.

I'm starting one to be like you. Seriously.

- tlack

Well that took all the fun out of it. Kidding.

I was deeply moved and humble and took it as an InstantMessage from the Big Cheese about Standing Room Only.

STNDNGRMONLY: THX. U 2. WHAT R U WEARNG?

I thought about the people I communicate with here, through comments or e-mails or both. Oddly enough, this path led me to Learning. Learning about them, teaching them about Me. Learning to write, learning about Myself.

I envisioned Hugh U. I would be Dean, Faculty, Maintenance and Building. I would present a series of posts about All Things Hugh. We would have a school song, "River Deep, Mountain High" is the current dark horse. I would continue to provide Quality Education vis á vis Hughdom.

Your job as a Student would be to attend. Read what I present. Or not. Take from it anything that makes you laugh, think or write. Leave behind anything that grosses you out, you take personally or consider Too Gay. Whatever that means.

You will be expected to participate fully at all functions including the Talent Show at Homecoming. This means writing comments, sending thoughtful e-mails, linking constantly and donations. Or not. You don't have to do anything other then read. Easy A. Honor Roll. Letter sweater. Team Captain. Love of your life. Entry level position. Marriage. Kids. Grandkids. Old Age. Death.

It's an interesting idea.
3:48:08 PM    sro home /

THE MISSING AUDIO


HELLO OFFICER! HELLO!

Ma’am, could you please step out of the car?

HOW ARE YOU? I LOVE YOU!

Just step out of the car, ma’am.

Do you want me to slap you? Cause you know I will.

Just come out please.

It’s fucking bright!

Do you need a hand ma’am?

No, I got it Baby. “I’m coming out.!!!” Give me some room, Mr. Off-i-cer.

Do you need some help?

FUCK no. HELLO OFFICERS! HELLO! I LOVE YOU!

Uh, thank you ma’am. May I see your license?

You wanna see my license? Are you shittin' me? I am Miss Diana Ross, motha-fucka.

Yes ma’am. Your license?

Well just hold on Baby. Momma’s gonna get it. Lessee, it’s here somewhere. “Do you know, where you’re going to...” Here it is

Miss Ross, this is a voodoo doll of Tina Turner.

MOTHA-FUCKING RIGHT! That damn bitch. I am MISS ROSS. I was making music when she was dressed like a Circus Monkey. What the fuck was that?

Miss Ross...

WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT? Cirque de No-WAY. BITCH.

Miss Ross, we’re going to have to ask you to take a test. Could you count to ten please?

“Them that’s got shall have...” One. “Them that’s not shall lose...” Two. “So the bible says...” Three.

Miss Ross, this could be fast and easy.

Lemme ask you sumpin' baby. Have you ever held an Oscar? Just held it like a hairbrush. Just like that, just like a big ol'’ hairbrush?

No ma’am.

Motha-fucking right you haven’t.

Could you stand on one foot please?

“AIN’T NO MOUNTAIN HIGH ENOUGH!!!”

Miss Ross, have you been drinking?

Who, me? Naw baby. I’ve been, you know, at the Rehearsal Studio. Re-hears-in’. For my next big tour. MISS ROSS!

I’m sure ma’am. You’re going to have to come with us.

We having a reunion baby? You gonna show Mama how to sing now? WHAT the FUCK was that shit? I WAS The Supremes.

Watch your head, ma’am.

Oh that’s not my head, that’s my hair baby. I’m ready, le’ss go give a show.

11:34:35 AM    sro home /