Things heard ont he way home: 5:45am

Dude: He likes going to Family! With other guys! I know what they do there, they meet and then go home and then fuck the shit out of each other! In the arse! You'd tell me if he's a fag, wont you?

Chick: And so? So what if your brother's gay? I'm not saying he is, but whats your problem?

Dude: It's a problem if he likes it in the arse! This is my brother we're talking about!

Chick (vicious, serious, deadpan): Some people like it in the arse and dont particularly care for people who dont.

Dude: You're not... oh shit. I'm so sorry. I'm such a dickhead. I'm sorry babe. Of course, I love my brother and whatever he's into is great. Let's just go home and I'll make it up to you.

(no subject)

Today's been one of those annoying days when I just couldnt stop crying. I think it started with this morning's dream (in which I arrived in SF to discover that Robbie and Fish had utterly disappeared), which set me off on entirely the wrong side of the bed.

So I blubbed my way through rebuilding my cylinder head and cleaning the bar (some charming person had taken a dump in the bathroom wastebasket), and then wisely chose to take Paul's MR2 out to Barry and Michael's rather than hitch a lift with the others. I figured I had about an hour of happy in me and would be coming home early, but in the end I couldn't find their house and there was no phone coverage, and the frustration used up what little pleasantness I had left. I kept driving to Little Huia and sat on the beach for a few hours instead. I thought about going further to Whatipu, but its a gravel road and I didnt think Paul and Alan would appreciate it in their car.

-I figured I should go see how Scotty was doing at the bar, and it was all good. The boys all arrived soon after I did- they'd been out all that time! I'm very glad I didnt hitch a lift!

I'm not sure how I'm feeling now. Nothing, I think, just tired.

Oh, and here's a lovely picture of Jesus.