7.29.2008

The New Seattle Lexicon.

Hey guys. Just thought I'd tell some stories about Seattle using this oh-so-clever-device. Try and work some of these into your vernacular/habits.

1. Dead Baby Downhill Firedrill

Might as well start with this one.
If you haven't heard about this, you are retarded. Approximately 97.4%-98% of the world is going to this event in which a bunch of drunks ride down a hill. Some in costumes. You would think putting a bunch of kids on bikes and shoving them down a hill would be pretty simple, but it is not my friend. There's marketing and sponsorships and T-shirts to be made for chrissakes. It's funny because the hill is actually created by the earths axis changing due to the amount of people who come to this venerable ride. Currently, the course is flat, but when close to six billion people arrive in less than a week, the weight of all the downhillers will turn it into a 35% grade. True story. Anyway, there's a lot to do to get ready, you know? There's no time for BBQ's and talking on the phone and such--I mean, there's barely enough time to chase Juggalos aroung Georgetown (don't even ask).
Sometimes of course, one will forget how close it is and how little we have accomplished so far. I mean, we could just be sitting in the backyard eating a hotdog or mowing the air or something when someone remembers, often shouting: "Oh my god you guys, I just remembered...the downhill is in less than a week!"
Then, of course, we all start freaking out over unstickerred water bottles and undistributed flyers and run around in circles kicking and juming over small obstacles while waving our hands manically screaming things like "Oh my god!!! Where's my fixed gear!!" and "We gotta make t-shirts!! Holy Shit!!" and "I cant find my vest!! Where's my freaking vest!!" and of course the classic: "THE DOWNHILL'S IN LESS THAN A WEEK!"

2. God bless The Child

On Amanda's birthday we were all at the bar and Amanda had stolen someone's bike on accident and went and hung out at the Eagle's lounge or something. In the meantime, I spied a little 22 y/o across the way, and turns out he was new in town. Wait--let me say that one more time--he was new in town. Sweet. He also lived two doors down from me. Well, I mean, I s'pose he still lives there, I'm just home now.
Oh, a little background on that--Geaorgetown, much like Lower Haight, is small, incestuous, and people have the tendancy to use your doorbell rather than the telephone. So, a beer leads to a walk and a walk leads to after-hours and after-hours leads to nakedness.
Yeah well, the next day when Lauren, Colleen and Sarah walked over to drink beers with me in my backyard, it turned out he was a little more connected than I had previously understood and worked at a popular little restaraunt down the street. Oops.
Anyway, I kept forgetting his name so we just started calling him The Child. It caught on. To the point where Monday morning found me, DBBP and Amanda drinking on the back porch as The Child had dipped through our backyards to grab more beer. Even DBBP commented "Dude, where'd The Child go?"

3. WHO TOOK MY MIXER!
Saturday Afternoon found us girls drinking homemade Muscle Milk cocktails AKA vanilla soymilk and vanilla vodka (Amanda), Hard Rootbeer Floats AKA vanilla vodka and rootbeer (Crystal) and Maker's on the Rocks with Oly chasers AKA exactly what that sounds like (me). Anyway, Crystal went to make another one and looked in the fridge to find her other bottle of rootbeer gone as I had given it to Alexis (Corrine, not Lopez) and her best friend Kim a couple days ago. So then Crystal starts faux freaking out, stomping around like a troll screaming "WHO TOOK MY MIXER!" like some kind of drunken orc. Amanda and I were quickly rolling around on the ground laughing with tears in our eyes.

4. Yeah! I'll give you a snug!

First, watch this.

See more funny videos at Funny or Die


Now, watch me watch you not be able to tell me that that isn't the funniest thing you've ever seen in your entire life.
Well, we thought so too and began using the word "snug" with an abandon unforseen this side of the Mississippi. It became noun, adjective, verb, and the much touted present progressive "snugging".
First, it was just Crystal, Amanda and I. But in our surreptitious drunkenness it caught on, and snug soon swept the masses. It even caught on with my sister and brother and law in less than a couple of hours of meeting them. Next thing you know, Amanda's conveniently in the batroom and my brother in law is talking to DBBP in the nook of the Nine Pound talking about "Dude. Dude. You gotta snug it out with her. She's way too hot not to snug with." YES. And oh how they snugged. There was also a full-on song, composed by Jim, called "Snug It Off".

You can also ask me about Southern Love, Joan Jett, Worth My While, Marina-ahhr the me-ahhr, Santa Suits, Jeremiah's foot tattoo, Flash Dancing, "What the fuck is that bitch doing at the downhill in a car?", Seven Dresses, Vagtinis, Bison, Watch Me Watch You, Boring Whores, Fence Fuckers, Foxy, Snarl Face, Matchy-Matchy Adidas tracksuits, that time at the Nine Pound when we almost got kicked out for our DB firedrill, and finally Crystal waking us up after a night of snugging with "Hey you guys. Get up. The Downhill's in a week."
Also, ask me to re-enact Drew's Hunter S. Thompson-esque entrance into Amanda's birthday party when his bike carreened across the lawn and he was left standing there, arms splayed, wearing all plaid with a parasol and a suitcase strapped to him with an innertube screaming: "SEAN! CUT ME OUT!". Priceless.

This trip was the stuff of legends.

Oh, and a shout out to AZ Dave: hope this lives up to your expectations, haha. E-mail me anytime--m@mmoure.com. Oh, and good luck on the downhill.

You might need it.
--M


p.s.--Seriously though, it's in less than a week. Oh FUCK!! Where's my Fixy! And by fixy, I mean doggy.

"The really funny thing is that I wont even be here for the downhill."

Itinerary #2

Walk 0.5 mile S from 6410 FLORA AVE S to
Depart East Marginal Way S & Carleton Ave S At 07:16 AM On Route MT 174 Federal Way S 320th P&R
Arrive SeaTac Airport AcRd & Terminal - BAY 1 At 07:43 AM
Walk 0.1 mile W to SEATTLE TACOMA INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

[Stories pending. Thanks to everyone, but special thanks to Crystal and Amanda, Roxanne and Rashei, both of the Alexises, Lauren, Colleen and Sarah, RCU, Sean and Ivy, and of course the boys of the Buck and Duck. I really, really love you guys. Especially big thanks to Alexis for letting me cry all over his sheets last night and toss and turn while he was trying to sleep and told me not to be sorry. Thanks. I probably didn't deserve it. Then again, I'm not supposed to be sorry, no?]

--M

7.26.2008

Georgetown et al.

FUCK.

Long story--but I will tell you for now that things are very complicated and also--THERE IS A BOY. Said boy, who is in the [Seattle] hood, is also my neighbor. Here, anyway. Here meaning Seattle.

Damn, he's totally fine.

To me.

Also, he's hung like a fireman's pole.

There are two people in Seattle who will be pissed by this concession. Oops.

--M

7.23.2008

For Angelica

It's very late, and it is, as it usually is, a very long story.

There are some things that, in my absence, I need taken care of back home: i.e. you getting your boyfriend to get my key to my friend Aaron.

Like I said, long story.

Call me.

--M

p.s. to angelica et al: I have stories about both alexises. yes, i mean alexis squared/the two a-lex-eye. haha. more tomorrow, promise squared. oh, call me on my 305.632.2135.

that's all for now. --M

7.22.2008

"Hey, how you doin'?"

"How am I doin'? I am pee-yissed right now."

"Oh, okay. Cool. Hey. Hey guys. Hey. You guys look like whores."

--M

7.21.2008

"Hey guys, watch me spread this blanket apathetically."

"Our picture's falling off so I rocked a dove on that shit."
--M

"Omigod, you should name your vagina The Black Diamond."
--C

Yeah, well, then he ate me out."
--A



[snugtastic]
--M

7.20.2008

SFO-SEA Text Messaging

"Hey, you up? Wanna Cuddle? And by cuddle I mean doggy."

"Sorry Nick, I'm in Seattle 'cuddling' w/ my ex. Mark your calendar for the 28th."


--M

7.19.2008

Things that make you go "Hahahaha!"

I am in Seattle. Yes, I finally made it here mostly intact, and if you would really like to know, then yes: I did spend last night at Wood's.

Anyway, two nights ago I was hangin with the neighbors at Summer Place and we spoke of this video.

Needless to say, I have now seen it. Hilarity did indeed ensue.

Nick And Jared Hold A Liquor Tasting from Nick Douglas on Vimeo.

If you ever wanted to know who Other Nick the Writer is, well, now you do.

--M

p.s.--story is coming. i super promise.

7.18.2008

ASSY: For the K in KLM, for bringing me a doorknob. Tits.

K--
I am grateful in a way I cannot explain--meaning you had no reason to offer me what you did, unlike some people who owed me what they did not deliver. This means that I have no words. The L in KLM was right when she said you were a super hero.

For you, I offer just a snippet of the funniest thing I've ever seen while holed up in my apartment for three days.



Castlevania II was the first NES game I ever beat. I could insert some metaphore here about "beating my own obstacles" and the like, but mostly, I've just come to terms with the fact that I love the phrase "ass related", as in: "The last week has been ass related".

Love you big. See you when I get home.
For everyone else, I'm taking Lakricia with me, so expect the whole story soon.
--M

p.s. to K--seriously, you are more awsome than I even knew. you were slick and immediate and unassuming in your response to me. i have a lot to learn, and welcome learning it from you. xo--M

7.12.2008

I stole this from Angelica who stole it from her roomie.

Was the first person you talked to today male or female?
Today...like the 12th, or like this morning? If you mean this morning, then it was Mike from 302 who was sitting on the front stoop when I left the building.

Do you believe that everything happens for a reason?
Mmm...wow. Well, I believe that everything can be dealt with artfully in some way.

Have you ever liked someone that treated you like crap?
Yes. Maybe everyone has? I think this may be true.

Have you ever seen a zebra?
Hmm...I feel like I must have at some point, like at the Zoo. I think I would love to see one now.

Has anyone disappointed you recently?
Yes. Someone has. And I am more dissapointed everyday at how little he knows me. Actually, I think I am dissapointed in myself for wanting to believe that he did--meaning: maybe the answer to that question is no.

How late did you stay up last night?
I'm surprised it wasn't later--Mary, who got here to SF last night, has a penchant for keeping me up into the wee hours. Jesus Christ, I'm so glad she's here.

Where is your father right now?
Dead.

Are you a morning person or a night?
Night, definitely. Hence the wee hours.

Are you there for your friends?
Oh, me? Never. Ha.

Are you a forgiving person?
No. Kind of. Let me explain: I am a patient person, but only to the extent that I will give you the benefit of the doubt; I will wait for you to turn it around. There is a frustration boiling point however--that point where i have turned the other cheek and bent to your will so many times that I will then suddenly and likely permenantly kick you to the curb. Five or six big ones is usually my limit. I have to many of my own problems to put up with too many of yours.

Are you a jealous person?
Yes and no. I get very jealous when people know secrets I do not. I do not get very jealous when you fuck somebody else that is not me. Dig?

What's something you really want right now?
Actually, things are finally falling right into place.

Anything exciting tomorrow?
Yes, hopefully. Hopefully Lisa will want to hang out tomorrow as I will be absent tonight.

What is in your purse/backpack right now?
Dude, no. I take the fifth. Not that there's anything incriminating in there, I'm just really trying not to do the Ally Sheedy thing right now.

Wallpaper on your cell phone?
It's Mary and I in front of Hung Far Low in Portland, OR.

Where does most of your family live?
Hmm. Let's say Seattle. Sure. That sounds almost right.

Could you live with roommates?
Yes! I love roomates. I have one right now in fact, NIco, who just moved here from Dallas. He's staying here for a month.

Do you like clowns?
No, but I love Carnies.

How has the week been?
Better, getting better. I might have wanted to leave out making out with the hot, drunk girl at Thieves last night, but oh well. You gotta keep it interesting, right?

What's your favorite dessert?
CAKE.

--M

7.04.2008

RE: Are you back?

to: "Miranda Moure" [M@MMoure.com]
03.07.08 10:14:28
from: "Alan Stevenson" [AStevenson@sbcglobal.net]

RE: Are you back?

Miranda,
I'm beginning to feel a little left out. I'm waiting for your call for another half hour or so, and then I'm calling it a night.
That being said, I hope you're okay.

Best,
Alan

to: "Alan Stevenson" [AStevenson@sbcglobal.net]
04.07.08 02:35:57
from: "Miranda Moure" [M@MMoure.com]

A--
I'm so sorry, I swear, it couldn't be helped. That being said, this is going to sound made up.

My best friend got hit by a truck tonight. I was at work when I found out, her building manager had called me because he saw the whole thing, right out on Sutter. I got off work, ran up the hill to my little shithole apartment, changed into some jeans and came over to her apartment down the street, to which I luckily have a key. Then I stole $20 off of her nightstand because I'm broke, grabbed a maccaroni salad out of the fridge because I was starving, and hailed a cab to General because I have no one else here but her.

I feel terrible. I feel terrible because I can't even feel terrible because "husband being detained by INS and I got hit by a truck" trumps "boy I love doesn't want me and missing a days pay". I'm on the verge of tears and I'm not allowed to cry, not that I want to feel anything, anyway.

I don't have time for tears--I have T-shirts to make and stories to write and fuck fuck fuck--I'm so fucking glad she's okay.

On Tuesday night, I finally found parking on First Hill in Seattle, and stumbled down the street barely remembering where I was going as I had only been to Ben's once before. I called him when I was out front, and when he came out to find me, his little poodle in tow, I was a puffy-faced, red-eyed, balling heap on his front stoop, and he carried me inside without little more than a word, set me on his couch, and placed a beer in my hand. He kissed me on the nose and told me I was special, and I remember thinking that I couldn't remember the last time something akin to that had happened.

There's something wrong with me right now, and I can't see what it is or my way out of it. I just know that I have made some mistakes that I am not proud of and I have done things that were correct that I am not happy with and I can't seem to figure out which way to go because every way seems too foreign, and I can't get the vision out of my head of Wood on his front stoop in his boxers before I left, sad and defiant and confused and yet still so unwilling to just fucking tell me what the fuck is going on.

Monday. I promise.

Call me early.
--M

7.03.2008

Get on plane, check. Write some e-mails, check.

to: "Miranda Moure" [M@MMoure.com]
02.07.08 11:49:52
from: "Alan Stevenson" [AStevenson@sbcglobal.net]

Are you back?

Are you still coming? I'm at Summer Place. The bartendress has just made me some ridiculous concoction that tastes of pineapple and vaguely of vodka though I'm sure there is a lot of vodka actually in it. Pray for me, and get here soon. Your phone is going straight to voicemail. --Alan

Sent from my iPhone

to: "Alan Stevenson" [AStevenson@sbcglobal.net]
03.07.08 12:43:17
from: "Miranda Moure" [M@MMoure.com]

RE: Are you back?

A--
I walked in the door, saw your e-mail, then ran across the street to see if you were still there. I'm sure you already know that you were not.
I missed my flight. I missed it because I was up until 5 or 6 last night and then finally retired to something that was not quite sleep, but rather some kind of eyes-closed laying about in a humid, still apartment waking every half hour or so everytime one of us moved. I missed it because when I finally got home to Crystal and Amanda's at 9 this morning, I had probably only had a cumulative hour or so of sleep so far and so I dozed most of the day away in Crystal's bed watching nature shows. I missed it because I spent my early evening cleaning my best girlfriends' kitchen because they threw a BBQ for me on Monday and I wanted it to look nice when they got home from work and I was gone, and I wanted to do the dishes and chainsmoke with Lauren and try and come to grips with what happened last night before I got on the fucking plane.

The truth? I knew I was going to miss it. I just didn't care.

Tomorrow, after I get off work @ 10, we can chat. I'm sure that tomorrow, much like last night, I will want to do just about anything not to feel. Alan, I don't want to feel this. At all. And I'm not quite sure what to do save drink and work and fuck it all off my shoulders.

'Til then.
--M