”where do you live?”

“a couple of blocks away”

“ah, so you are those Loop guy”

“nope, I am a Gold Coaster”

“It's all the same”

“Nah, we have the beach, they got the train”

I'm saying goodbye to my friends for this August because the demand for my time just skyrockets. See yah, I got a couple of whales to fish.

Things to complete in August:

- Master .Net framework 2.0 and C#
- Master Ruby
- Master Php 5.0
- Polish POSEX.
- Complete design concept for a new product.
- Write plans for 2 more start up countries.


- Run 20 miles on a Saturday.

Goodbye cruel world.

John Kerry couldn't deliver the speech of his lifetime. What a bore. I like one his line though

It's mid summer and time is ripe for doing something rockin' that *will* make a difference.

A friend was taken to a swanky club in Chicago where people spend hundreds if not thousands of dollars on liquors and stuff like that. He came back impressed.

I told him “dude, if you can't get a girl with a six pack, a 600 dollars champagne will not help”.

That's the theme of Edward's speech. He's good, that's why he got the bick bucks.

“Hope is on the way”

“tomorrow will be better than today”

"She thinks she's alone," says Edwards. "But tonight in this hall and in your homes, you know what? She's got a lot of friends."

The key in everybody's mind is whether Kerry can measure up in delivering his speech tomorrow.

From the book “waiting for an angel” (well recommended;african tales)

'Ode'

A peer of goddesses she seems to me
The lay who sits over against me
Face to face,
Listening to the sweet tones of my voice,
And the loveliness of my laughing.
It is this that sets my heart fluterring
In my chest,
For if I gaze on you but for a little while,
I am no longer master of my own voice,
And my tounge lies usless
And a delicate flame runs over my skin
No more do I see with my eyes;
The sweat pours down on me
I am all seized with trembling
And I grow paler than the grass
My strength fails me
And I seem little short of dying

”The Return of the King” (Slate)

The burger was OK and it cost an arm and leg. No wine nor soda, just water. And the waiter was lousy. On a Monday night.

In return, I got a deep and moving conversation with a friend who I've known for almost 2 years but not really ever talk to.

Tonight we talk.

About her life, about her loss of a father when she was 14 and being raised by a single mother. About a roommate that always want to compete with her. About her motivation. What drives her. Why she cried before her birthday (and last year's that she hated;and the birthday flowers I sent to her work this year). Her architecture work. Her sense of design. About her dream of moving overseas. 

About people, dating and being cool. About intellectual put downs by friends who think they know it all. About being quiet at office. About her cool mix and match apparels;and shiny work shoes. About sell out working in a big corporation. About urban design. About outlook of life. About growing up with two brothers.

About the craving for the stupid burger. About her philosophy. The book she reads. About her friends. About her observation.

About my stupid jokes.

I'm relieved to finally gaining an understanding of an enigma that has puzzled me since I've known her.

”And those were the days of roses,
poetry and prose and Martha
all I had was you and all you had was me.
There was no tomorrows,
we'd packed away our sorrows
And we saved them for a rainy day.
”

(Tom Waits)

Mouna, Pam, Gaigi

the definitive guide to 'friends with benifits' 'amigos con derechos' whatever you call it... belle's finally written it up.  read.  don't weep. (Sarah)

Watching DNC Convention Day 1 on http://www.c-span.org/watch/cspan_rm.asp?Cat=TV&Code=CS. Waiting for Bill Clinton to come up.

He's on.

Post: Man, he's good. Best Line “strength and wisdom are not opposing values”

Continued..

So Gaigi and I met again, in a coffee shop, after almost 2 years from that defining day in the fall of 2002 in Calgary, Canada; the epoch of Salaam program; the founding day.

He'll be working full time for Salaam next year, 6 months in the US and 6 months in the Middle East;jetsetting between three different continents.

And he throw a couple of names that I barely remember, of many people that currently being involved in the program; full time or part time.

A friend who was also with us told me “look what kind of monster you created”. I just grinned stupidly. Yes, this thing is a kind of monster, the nice one.

I'm glad to see so many people are positively benefited from this program (directly or indirectly), long after the starting point. Good for them. For me, I have the quiet satisfaction of holding that rare distinction being the “founder of Salaam“, sharing it with Gaigi and Digidy. That should be enough.

But that's my past. Next after being founder of SilverKey last year, I think there's a new “version 1.0” thing coming this year.

“There are many areas in which African countries, eager to move into this space, can carve out a niche for themselves. The lucrative call center sector is one such area. Creating an environment that makes offshore outsourcing in Africa attractive can have many positive spin-offs for the continent as a whole, not just in terms of increased employment, additional revenue and new skills, but also in terms of changing the perception the developed world has about Africa.” (CRM Buyer)

The only perception the internet has about Africa in terms of IT is the Nigerian scam. The potential for Africa lies in the North (French/Arabic Speaking), West and South with nothing in the Middle or East (maybe Kenya, but that's doubtful)

Oh yeah, silverkey will have a presence in the continent of Africa. Hint: Do you speak French?

Hola world,

Gaigi, the French Speaking Arab Muslim bastard from Tunisia is in town . We're out drinking tonight.

postmortem: Met Gaigi and Pam at PickmeUp cafe with Mouna, Andrea and Mark. Had  a blast.

I was on a conversation the other day and she asked me “what was the turning point in your life?”. I told her “13, when I left home in the pursuit of knowledge”.

I found myself surprised with this answer because I had never described my leaving home (a house, a neighbourhood, an island and 8 years of childhood memories) for one very fine high school 13 years ago as a pursuit of knowledge. But it is essentially is.

13 was the point of no return, where I had my first step into the unknown without looking back, learning the ropes of life pretty much on my own. I was nomad in training.

That time was still vivid in my memories because the impressions of navigation life by my own compass for the first time was pretty much burned into my consciousness, that instict to sought knowledge and insatiable thrist for understanding. 

The funny thing is that I'm not very keen on gaining knowledge from universities or any formal training ground. Yes, my university in Australia was one of the best for the profession I choose to be in, but for me those are just a price of entry.

The messy real world is so much more interesting  to me where I will have to deal with complexities and side effect of unintended consequences in observing a certain theory or knowledge. I hate “assume this doesn't exist....”, the idea of that it is possible to think in a vacuum.

And this outlook started in 13. I have enough grounding from my family about the rights and wrongs, but I was forced to make decisions on the greys chasm between this two concept myself. The book I read at that time didn't help and no one can help me because they didn't know where I came from (I was quite a serious kid :P) School didn't help to find the answers I seek so I started my own school in my head and came the bold statement of “i'll have my own university when I'm 26”. All my highschool friend knew about this grandious and lofty goal, 13 years ago.

Well I'm 26 now and I think I'm still gonna do it. The form has evolved but the concept is still the same and we will not replicate the traditional form of teaching, but using experience and thoughts as a foundation of learning.

I just watch Bourne Supermacy in my 4 bucks a movie neighbourhood theater. Oh boy, this movie is even better than the first one. Well recommended. Go see it.

Streets line up neatly down here in Chicago downtown, a series of quite perfect grid that give birth to numerous intersections and its buddy, traffic light and its bastard cousin, a stactcato driving experience in rush hours. But there is little concern of the traffic on the street on this windy night. It is the off traffic, pedestrian, that you must worry about. Make sure you turn your GPS gadgeton because it takes quite a skill to navigate this human traffic as it seems that there's always somebody zig to your zag in your effort to get closer to your destination.

Our destination tonight is the newly christened Millenium Park, a series of Urban Design development neatly placed next to the prime Michigan Avenue. Basically it's a park with cool new concert theatre by Frank Gehry [and some other minor albeit cool details]; You cannot miss the park because of Frank's signature sclupture can be seen from away. Once you reach the park, do not enter though as our real destination is actually  a show called "This American Life" and the park is just conveniently located next to the place where the show plays.

"This American Life" is a popular NPR (National Public Radio) show hosted by this guy named Ira Glass. He's popular enough to generate several thousands passionate groupies usually reserved for drugged abused aging rock n roll star (i'm exxgerating here, a bit). The show tells the story, real story, of Americans, ordinary ones they say, a short snippets of their lives.

I've never heard his show before and tonight I'm here on the floor of an open theather (actually is a rooftop of a building, what a novel idea)  on the ground, my eye level at the bottom of a clusters of seating-lucky-bastard people, trying to enjoy his show for the first time. Not enough seats for everbody;it's a free show; so complain is not tolerated with pain of guantanamo imprisonment.

Boy, this rooftop is packed; I was praying for a riot, but it seems to be that mots of NPR listeners are well behaved intellectuals, no luck here.

I admit I had no idea what kind of show this one turns out to be. We are facing a blank concrete wall and on my right there is a small stage with a band set up (guitars, a black sleek grand piano, and other instruments) and some microphone. We were mainly lighted by the bright lights of hte surrounding sky scrapers. Quite a sight actually. You can see the clouds, illimuniated with brownish light, racing through the dark sky. If you must know, yes, there's a big butt in dirty blue jeans elevated on a steel chair just about 4 yards off my face, but I try not to pay any attention to it. The ground has a rough feel to it, some sort of coarse floor you see in a place where they don't want old people to fall when itss weet.

It's a quite a cold night, but with the sardines in a can arrangement of tonight's show, it helps bring a relieve, powered by human radiator.

Two class of people, the seater and the grounder. I'm the grounder.

Me and my own people create a cluster on the ground next sandwiched between two round clusters of  seaters. If you are hovering above us like a lost angel, our cluster shapes like a sand glass clock.

A voice comes out of thin air,quickly dominating the quite chattering noise and everybody quiets down. It's a warm, young voice, a voice belongs to, if I try, a mid thirties man, specifically design to sound real real good on microfone and project warmth and funny feeling just by spoken words. The crowds went wild and bras thrown out to the stage [sorry,twas different show].

He continued speaking, narrating a story about a boy name Tim, a chicago primary school boy who's obssessed with this one building in the city. This was back in 1960's. The narration follows a series of cartoonish slides depicting the event in ths story. It works better than  you can imagine [think Toy Story, but before Walt Disney invented animated movies]. The narrative follows smoothly combined with the jerky switching of one slide to another. Somehow they just fit together, smoot and jerky, Ying and Yang.

Story continue, the building that TIm loved, The Building, is about to be torn down, to be replaced by a new building to take in its stride. For the next 7 minutes we hear, filling in our imagination, on how this young little kid try to save his beloved building, going meeting the corporation CEO office and getting this gem told to him "you know kids, I'm glad you like the old building, I hope you will find the same qualities in the new building that you will like". This building is not the only building torn down in the city, but as Tim Said "Not all building are the same. Some building has characters and talks you".

This sad story continues as Tim pass by the building everyday its various stage of destruction, it's marvelous details torn down by cold big machineries designed to destruct oh so efficiently.

Tim has a friend call Richard. They have been sneaking to the scafooolded buuilding at night and try to experience. Tonight was their rendveous again but Tim could make it. And that was the last missed appointment Tim has ever made with Richard. Richard was missing for a couple of days and Time with as earc h time try desperately to find his frine din the amonghst the debris in of the torn building. A month later the body of Richard is found under the rubble.

Tim is now grown up and work in the city. The new building has been erected on top of his Building but he's still sad.

Story ends.

I must warn you my recollection ofhte story was sketchy. I forget to bring my note.

The whole story took about 30 minutes. It's a story telling. A good one. One I've heard before, but not in America. Now I understand the appeal. Just hearing stories thorugh the radio waves and let words paint your imagination. We were kids again.

This guy is good.

All my babes kick ass.

”Hey, are you lonely?
Has summer gone so slowly?
We found the ground
And that damage was done
It's cold as you fade into the sun
Where'd you go? To me?
”
(Fair) by Remy Zero

Took this picture three weeks ago.

If my estimation is right, I would have worked 60 hours by the end of Wednesday night.

goddamn.

This is my younger sister

and her dog

Right now she's living in GhuangZou, China.

Well, I got to be on my own again, saying goodbye to two weeks past with a ting of sadness mixed with a torrential gratefulness for having beautiful memories imprinted in the book of my life.

My immune system is struggling to contain the onslaught of Flu virus.

”Even in a city with a worldwide reputation for innovative urban design, the opening this month of a spectacular new park and performance center near Lake Michigan promises to be a huge event.” (NYTimes)

Avoiding the crowds in an empty street
I walked without discreet
No game today
She's taking an exam on Monday
So I dropped by with her favourite food in a brown paper bag
Along with bright yellow flowers to lighten the drag
Then she thanked me with her quiet eyes
Still waiting for a yes.

Life is weird.

I ended in the gutter for falling an unrequited love with a lady I'm willing to dedicate my whole life to.

And suddenly a fling of Summer just represent herself, looking all beautiful with a scent of Jasmine, come on my door, knocking loudly, wanting to come in. No love nor commitment nor heartache, just unattached affection and the pleasure of wonderful company. This is the stuff young men have wet dream of. All the good things of a relationship with none of the sacrifice.

Venus must be thinking I've taken enough beating and gave me candy instead, as if saying “Dody, do nothing, sit back and enjoy the ride“.

I'm not complaining. It's just funny that trying to do the 'right thing' smack me on the face and going back to my old 'don't give a damn' self rewards me handsomely.

Out of control.

“Indonesia's former armed forces chief and a top Muslim cleric threatened legal action on Friday to stop a public count of the vote which shows them losing the race to be the country's first democratically elected president.

Lawyers for retired army general Wiranto and Islamic scholar Amien Rais issued a statement threatening legal action if the General Election Commission (KPU) did not stop publishing interim tallys they said could be misleading. “ (TheJakartaPost)

3 am in the morning, stunning silence, waken up, “I'm cold”, “come here”, she slid in and she fit. 

and trying to get out of it.

Life is funny. I just have one of the most stimulating conversation I have had since I arrived here in Chicago and this is with a person just landed five days ago in the country.

The bottom reached, and I'll stop digging now.
I've been addicted to a dream.
Where nothing like it seems.
Lost in a haze.
Of a sunny summer days.
Me standing here on a stack of crates.
Resigned myself to  fate.

Sitting here, sun rise, a fresh brewed coffee, waiting sign for life

”Kerry announced the choice at a rally in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, telling the cheering crowd that Edwards is "a man who understands and defends the values of America." “

(cnn.com)

I approve.

Hi friends,

Sunshine to you.

I'm sitting in a corner table in an empty Monday morning coffee shop (it's a de-facto holiday today), under the glow of yellowish fluorescent light, serenaded by maddenning loop of recycled songs, writing to you.
 
The memory of yesterday's day long celebration of Uncle Sam's is still fresh in my mind, ready to be replayed with my inner remote control, a series of vivid scenes, occasionally interrupted with blurry static silence sequences.

Here's the bad news. I can't deliver to you my cool distanced obvservation of moments one day old because I'm still in the midst of patching some freshly torn fabrics within me. It's a task I grossly underestimated in its difficulty for I am in a new teritory this time. I'm now on the last step of "339 ways to walk away". Step 338 "drink alone in a desolate park under the umbrella of fireworks" didn't work; at least that police lady didn't fine me;and she listened for a while. Maybe next year's edition will be better; reminder to self, get a refund.

I should've known J.Lo's gonna get married again.

But let's move on.

4th of July was a big party for Chicago (just like the rest of America) and it arrived with whatever you expect from such event. Unlimited drinking, countless food and loose women. That if you a college frat boy. For the rest of us, it's a time to hang out with good friends, for families to tighten the knots of their blood lines and for lovers to warm their flames.

The city is doing its best to cater for all of these type of people by throwing all sort of festive activities; fireworks, free concerts, parades, and countless other fun and exciting things to do.

I chose the free concert, one in a lush green summer park next located next to the lake and main artery of Chicago. Three bands were going to play, in sequence with short interludes, Old 97's, They Might Be Giants, and Counting Crows. I strolled through one mile shopping corridor (Michigan Avenue) to get to the park, in the company of others fellow consumer of happiness and jolly of the day, reaching my destination 10 minutes shy of 2 o'clock. All I brought was  a yellow fleece for me to sit on and a sense of anticipation.

A friend (single, good looking and own his own place in the city;girls, start your line) had been expecting me, sitting in a spot near a yellow smiley flag;between two Rainbow umbrella, in a semi circles of his good friends and a birthday girl; two Lizs, a Mike and other with anonymous names. Happy Birthday. Food: An intoxicatingly sweet chocolate brownies, brown and green grapes, a limited amount but highly in demand Margaritas, water, wheat cookies (just in case you are allergic to chocolate), and some  other consumable pleasures hidden in ice-cooled picnic bags, inviting the same curiousity that begat Pandora's tragic downfall. Beach chairs, blankets, and barely-dry grass form our inner sanctum  amidst this vast open space, amongst thousand if not tens of thousands concert goers. A flock of grey clouds menacingly circling on a sky keeping us on our toes. Rain or no rain, that was the question.

I sat down, absorbing the atmosphere blanketed with the warmth of summer, ready to weave another vignette of my life; sharing my stories with people around me;and listening to their own tales. Hmm, the sweet smell of summer entered my lung as I greedily inhales them;I need more moments like this.

People, people everywhere, in every shapes and sizes, happy being outside, in the sun, chatting excitedly, generating spark of electricity in the air.

And we waited, as more people coming to join our semi circles (gradually transforming to  a full circle now), some new faces and some souls I know well. In the meantime, a fascinating common ritual is being performed all around me, bottles of sun screen being passed around and white substances smeared to the skins to protect them from the angry sun. I politely refused. Indulge me this vice of getting Skin Cancer.

And here we come, the first order of the event, people standing up with hands on their chest, singing and listening to two angelic voices (mixed with other off key voices from good samaritans who joins the chorus) signing "star spangled banner", the national
anthem of the United States of America. A Slow methodical song, thousands of bodies, with a green grass carpeted ground and (now) blue sky made quite an experience, taking your breath away. As the singer climb the octaves in the musical notes, I noticed a single engine airplane slowly crawling the sky, dragging a banner, easily read from 1000 feet, "Baked with Harold and Kumar, July 30th",  promoting a new Hollywood comedy, hearing myself thinking "this national anthem is brought to you by this stupid movie".
Welcome to America.

And the songs from Old 97s reveberated through the air, broadcasting lyrics and melodies to air. Sorry buddy, wrong frequency. I don't know the band and I could barely care about their song right now and I'm not alone in this as pretty much people around me chatting their time away, as if the band playing on stage right now was mute and invisible, not heard, unseen.

We couldn't see the stage from where we were.

...

A beautiful woman in green jacket is sitting across my coffee table right now, shuffling her reading. She has a wedding ring on her right hand.

Now back to our regular programming...

I nodded and smiled thorought their song list although I pretty spent much of the time staring at the foot traffic in front of us, people watching. Our place is a jump away from the main foot path that snaked through the park, with pieces of conversations piqueing my attention from now and then. I stared straight, forming my own invisible stage, having people coming in and out of my vision;left to right;right to left; parading their selves.

Welcome to American People Show.

Overheard: "I'm going golfing tomorrow"

Two blonde girls, in hot pinks top and short pants and tanning-machine tan; guy with exposed 6 months pregnant beer belly; A long haired Jesus guy bearing a short plastic like cross in a white;a bearded guy holding a sign "Message from the ExtraTerrestial"; awkward girl with dark trim glasses and pimples; sun charred beef cake guy carrying a blonde kid on his shoulder, a father;  And a pair of gargantuan boobbies moved from left to right, swimming in between an old grandpa on a walking stick and a teenager chatting on her cell phone. A brunette in a white skirt with pretty flower print; a granolla girl in a sun dress; a fat girl helping a wheel chaired child. Baloons;

American girls, they make you glad that you are alive.

Colors;color;colors; Mosaic of colors, shaming the rainbow.

I'm being complained for playing slow, depressed songs on my guitar.

"I'm returning a bag of groceries.
Accidently taken of the shelf.
Before the expiration date".

This is "dead", a song not played, by They Might Be Giants. They are on now.

"An image of angel burned into my conciousnes  and I am desperately trying to extract her out from my mind, but the root is too deep and not even Venus knew how to help me."

I don't know why I wrote those jumbled sentences but I found them scrawlled on my flaming red notebook.

I'm going nuts.

"Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch
Who watches over you
Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Not to put too fine a point on it
Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet
Make a little birdhouse in your soul"

Aww, they played my most favourite song in the whole wide world.

Sweet sound of flamenco strokes and familiar words woke everybody from their summer lull, They Might Be Giants wondered why

"
Every gal in Constantinople
Lives in Istanbul, not Constantinople
So if you've a date in Constantinople
She'll be waiting in Istanbul

Even old New York was once New Amsterdam
Why they changed it I can't say
People just liked it better that way
"

A girl with a bandage on her right hand. What did she do?

It's getting better.

Interlude. They played again. One song.

"It's from Apollo 18".

Another interlude. This must be the Encore.

Nope. 5 Minutes passed by. End yet?

One more. One sweet song.

It ends.

Radio Free Europe played in the background. More foot traffic.

"Do you have a headache? You look quiet.
Just a bit;I'm just thinking"

Rain King.

"
If there's anyone at home at your place, darling
Why don't you invite me in?
Don't try to bleed me
I've been there before
And I deserve a little more
"

Finally Counting Crows played. 6.30 am, the sun prepared to go to bed.

"They can play the whole show just from their hits".

""I was down at the New Amsterdam staring at this
yellow-haired girl" (Mr. Jones)

Hand up in the air, bodies move, la..la..la..la..la..la..yeah, oh..oh..Mr Jones and Me....

I stood up and start dancing, soaking the beat and rhythm and the weird joy brought by the song.

"This is a brand new song; so let's sing to it"

"
So she said what's the problem baby
What's the problem I don't know
Well maybe I'm in love (love)
Think about it every time
I think about it
Can't stop thinking 'bout it

How much longer will it take to cure this
Just to cure it cause I can't ignore it if it's love (love)
Makes me wanna turn around and face me but I don't know nothing 'bout love
"

Jotted down on my notebook "learn to play this".

Ah, the jolly and catchy tunes from Shrek 2. Some of us started dancing again, freeing outselves from the inhibition of
public show of happiness, singing loudly.

"I'm In Love, I'm in Love,
I'm in Love, I'm in Love,
I'm in Love, I'm in Love,
Accidentally (X 2)
"

Speaking from recent new experience, if you happen to be accidently in love, you will badly want it not unrequited. It's a sweet sensation like no other, exhilirating and scary at the same time due to its out of the blue nature, knocking you out of your balance, with every breath you take smells like roses in full bloom. It's a beautiful curse, punishes you anyway it can.

If your plan A went astray, hopefully it happens with a stranger, so you can walk away, picking up broken pieces of yourself on the way out. If that doesn't happen, follow these steps to recover;.....;err, 'll get back to you on those.

Accidental love sticks my friend, and it doesn't let go.

And they kept playing.

"I may take a holiday in Spain
Leave my wings behind me
Drink my worries down the drain
And fly away to somewhere new
"(Holiday in Spain)

Two new lovers making paper airplane out of one dollar bills.

"Well I am an idiot walking a tightrope of fortune and fame
I am an acrobat swinging trapezes through circles of flame
If you've never stared off into the distance then your life is a shame
And though I'll never forget your face sometimes I can't remember my name
"(Mrs Potter's lullaby)

I cleaned out the picnic bag and started passing around barely cold sodas around. For myself, a mini bottle of red wine, California,
Cabernet Sauvignon, drunk straight out of the bottle.

"And it's just the same hard candy
You're remembering again
Go ask her to come around
And see me late after dark
Don't ask me to come around
Then wait to if there's a spark
"(Hard Candy)

Slow, melanconic song, stirring your soul. Lovers in the corner of my eyes hugged and slow danced to the rhythm of the night.

Found out that I won my bet with Bea.

"I guess the winter makes you laugh a little slower,
Makes you talk a little lower about the things you could not show her
And it's been a long December and there's reason to believe
Maybe this year will be better than the last
I can't remember all the times I tried to tell my myself
To hold on to these moments as they pass
And it's one more day up in the canyon
And it's one more night in Hollywood
It's been so long since I've seen the ocean...I guess I should
" (Long December)

Same sex love, hand on hand, obvilious to their surroundings, strolled pass as in their own little perfect world.

"
It seems like I should say "as long as this is love..."
But it's not all that easy so maybe I should just
snap her up in a butterfly net-
Pin her down on a photograph album
I am not worried
I've done this sort of thing before
But then I start to think about the consequences
Because I don't get no sleep in a quiet room and...

"(Anna Begins)

And it ends. Just like that, leaving me wanting for more, but hey you get what you paid for (free concert).

It was 7.42 am, after sitting almost six hours, letting the sun etched on my skin, I slowly picked up my yellow fleece, and started my lone walk
home, joining the crowds, off course after saying my goodbyes . Show's over but friends are forever.

And my friends, that was the summer concert on 4th of July 2004.

My coffee runs dry now and it's time to pack things up and leave. May you have a wonderful summer. I might see you sooner than later as my tea leaf reads voyage soon.

Bea,

I forget to tell you I rarely wrong. Ask Digidy. Greece kicked Portugal's ass, 1-0, just like I told you.

This is my address:

850 North State Street, #16G
Chicago, IL 60610

You can send me the t-shirt now.

Oh yeah, you must wear that t-shirt, hold “I lost a bet to Dody and all I don't have is this lousy t-shirt” sign and post the picture on your weblog.

Remember, Victor dictates the winning term.

Happy Birthday USA

Happy Birthday The Great Satan (in Farsi)

Happy Birthday The Global Imperial Power (in French)

Happy Birthday The Great Bully (in Portuguese)

Now that we are on the third quarter of the year, some adjustment are necessary in my life. Some are because I can, some because I want to and there rest because I need to.

There are some promises to fullfil, torns to repair, and intentions to realize.

It's Saturday night, July 3rd and the biggest parties are happening in town. Invitations refused, spending time with my own company, thinking things through.

” I also read the economist and thought of the many economists we would get to the office because of sarah.”(emir)

:o)

”The Purge is continuing at the CP. Bender has also been banned. And the Liberal trolls have turned their attention to baiting JeffB, Hungry-Valley, Rob..NC, Skip, and Cap'n Doc.

I find that my heels are not actually cooling much. If I was to go back on the CP, I would go straight for "Get Reals" throat. Not exactly what Michele has in mind though.” (Redneck Texan)

What the fuck is going on ?!!! #$@%@#%@#$%^ #^$%^