October 20th, 2003



Last night, I had the word "gyoza" all ready to deploy, including a double word score, and then imasage took my spot.

I opted to not destroy her, because I love her so. She is lucky... for now.


Wet ride home on a wet scooter. Wet tires on wet roads mean wet sliding about. Wet tires on wet metal grating on the Ballard Bridge mean wet terror. Wet glasses inside my wet helmet mean I can't see as much of the wetness. Wet shoes can only withstand so much, so now I have wet socks and wet feet. My wet motorcycle jacket leaked through to my wet Dickies hoody, which in turn leaked through to my wet sweater. My eyeballs are wet. Wet gloves from this morning didn't completey dry during the day, so they continued to be wet as I donned them for the wet ride home, during which they became even more wet. My wet rain pants have a tiny hole from a snowboarding incident, which allowed for wet pants. My brain is wet.

I eventually got home to a dog that had wet a good portion of the floor of his kennel (not really his fault). I took him out for a few minutes and now I have a wet dog. Oh... and the basement apparently leaks in two places, so it's wet now too.

The garage also leaks like a mofo, and it's obscenely wet.

Everything's wet, but it's still better than it being really hot out.