Sunday, January 02, 2005


I had this revelation about how great my friend Lina is, and here is the email where I tell her. Below is an email I sent to her, detailing said revelation, followed by an email she sent me, that I'm ostensibly replying to in my manic freak-out way.

This is her site:

Lina Fucking Rules

So Lina, I was just sitting around, unbathed, being a total turd, laid off and unlaid and unloved and depressed, and I had this revelation that you fucking rule and you're going to be my best friend from now on. Which is kind of creepy and weird and stalky sounding, but you can understand weird shit, I think. (I am so fucking eloquent sometimes, I make myself cry.)

No, it's not as bad as all that...I'm just sitting in my dirty ass room with my sleeping cat in my dirty ass house, listening to Les Savy Fav ("We've been sleeping with our shoes on for much too long"), waiting to get motivated, and I realized I needed to write you back. And then I checked out your site, and that Valentine with the blow-up doll with the candy heart that says "not that hole" is just so fucking visionary...I'm feeling kind of manic now. I remember when I was a creative guy and didn't spend all my time moping in circles until I wore out the linoleum.

So yeah, I just have to blow smoke up your ass for being incredibly cool and inspiring. You know, you went from being that cool homeless chick to being that cool but unfortunate homeless junkie chick, to ruling the goddamned cafeteria at Google, for chrissakes. Like, I bet guys are buying you lime jello with Cool Whip every fucking day.

And a smore maker. That's what I fucking mean, Lina. You're the type of girl who asks someone to come over and hang out, and you're like, "Yeah, hey, why don't we make smores. I've got a smore maker." I mean, what the fuck? That's really off the charts, you know?

So, I don't know where you are on this dramatic break-up thing, but I say that guy is a retard and fuck him anyway. I mean, I could probably come up with some intelligent, less Tiger Beat, smacking gum in the girls room sounding advice, but that's really the base of it, you know? It's like, sometimes you have these sleeper friends that you don't really realize are so fucking rad and then you do, and you feel lucky.

It's Sunday and almost 4 PM, but if you want to hang out any time, call me up--I don't think I have your number anymore. 350-****.

Keep ruling,


p.s. I'm going to cut and paste this into my stupid blog that no one reads, because I'm feeling sort of "go tell it on the mountain" about Lina's radness. People who randomly toss of Ben Franklin quotes are too rock and roll for words.

p.p.s. what's with all the random search engine "donkey porn" and "free poker" comments on your journal? Is that what happens when people start posting comments?

Hi Scott,
I'm not on Myspace, and I rarely sign on to
Friendster except lately where I signed on about
25 times in the last week. The game is REALLY at because they give you fucked up
personality tests and then tell you how compatible
you are with your friends and potential sex

I linked to your webpage on MY webpage which is
at Having a webpage is fun
because weird guys post every two days offering
their "unrequited love."

I got a job at Google and commute to Mountain
View every day which kind of sucks but they have
a kick-ass cafeteria with better food than you can
imagine. So it's all good. I basically copy edit ads
and tell people to follow rules. It's kind of fun.

How was Xmas? I'd imagine that having a child
makes it worthwhile. I got a smore maker which is
kind of like a fondue kit but it's for making smores.
I love smores, and using sterno is pretty great too.

Which needle exchange are you working at? I
used to work at the one on Haight Street.

Honestly I don't have anything interesting to say.
I'm in the middle of a drawn out dramatic break up
and it is sucking the life out of me and making me
want to jump off of a cliff. Since I have decided that
you are the smartest man that I know, do you have
any sage advice for me?

Rock on with your bad self,

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