September 20, 2003
SO NOW I'M BACK/FROM OUTER SPACE
Yes, I have returned... back from the land of Metamucil smoothies and pube-happy Eurothongs... back from a place where the baseball stadium resembles a Betty Crocker Jello mold gone wrong... back from a place where cheap, Mexican beer flows like mini-bar wine...
The short story: I had a great time at the AASFE convention at The Don (as we locals call it). I feel invigorated and full of good ideas that will now be reduced to a mindless, mishmash of deflated optimism and projects that will never see the light of day, thus forcing me to change my name to Alan Smithee and operate surreptitiously in journalism not unlike the way a plastic surgeon in Tijuana performs brow lifts using a finely-honed KFC spork as his scalpel.
I have no idea what any of what I just wrote means.
Clearly, I've been stuck just below the summit of journalism's K2 without bottles of oxygen to stave off pulmonary edema from all the rarified academic air.
Must... get... back... to the real world.
Anyway, I'll be posting updates and photos Sunday from the weekend. I'm just too damn tired to do it right now.
I'll have an Asses of Fire update by proxy. I'll have a story of a chance meeting too bizarre to be believed - and yet still true! And I'll tell you a story about trampling through the vintage of the world of suncoast shell art.
Here's a taste of the weirdness to come:
It's a little something I like to call, "The Scallop Mikado":
'Nuff said.