Airbag / How Am I Driving?

Random thoughts on a Sunday afternoon:

1. My memory is showing its age. The first woman I dated when I moved back to L.A. was not a professor of anthropology, but of archaeology. Apparently, my friend's memories are showing their ages too. Their first comment when I mentioned anthropology chick: "Hey, wasn't that first woman you dated when you moved back here an anthropology chick too?"

2. OK, in the last 2 days since anthropology chick wrote me, I've gotten 35 new hits on my match.com profile.

3. I wrote back anthropology chick on Friday. Haven't heard back yet. If I don't hear back on Tuesday, as David Grohl would say, "DONE, DONE, ON TO THE NEXT ONE!"

4. Waking up around noon is not good for coherent thoughts. It is really good for making you sound like a fifteen-year-old geek pining after Kiki on the Cheerleading Squad. Pppphhhhhht.

5. A shout out to Alex in Cornell. Yo brutha, looks like the tribe of Cute Borders Chicks all ovah the United States have heard the drumbeats telling them to move on. Unfortunately, as a yellow brutha, I don't have the option of Whiteboy Rap. I'm all for bustin' stereotypes yo, but the yellow bruthas can't rap. We be all sounding like Elmer Fudd channeling Jackie Chan when we rap. Yellow brutha rap all be like "My Jade Princess got Beeg Spoilah, don’t mean on her Honda. I got beeg rims for her pleasure, my chassis so low to da ground.”