Pretty sick right now. Sore throat, coughing blood. As a result, I haven't gotten anything significant done in days. Our insurance kicks in next weekend, so... holding on...
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As of this past Thursday, I'm married to one of those women with a nose-piercing. Yeah, three nights ago, Carey went out with some friends to a tattoo and piercing parlor in Huntington Beach and got the deed done. A little diamond stud, or something like that. No, no, not a bull-ring or barbell, just your run-of-the-mill nose piercing (which was apalling and edgy 10 years ago... but, these days, nothing all that remarkable). She's been discussing a tattoo, but I dunno. I just don't go in for tattoos. Probably because, as a lifestyle, I resist the idea of permanence. The idea of being locked into a career or a home or (sh-shudder...!) kids scares the livin' heck outta me... I certainly don't want words or pieces of artwork on my body that aren't coming off.

That's not to say piercings are out of the question, I guess. I don't know, I just tend to think I'd look stupid with an earring or a nosering or an eyebrow ring. Some people wear them well, but... ah, who am I kidding, I don't even wear pants well, what makes me think I could get away with hoops in my ears or a tongue-stud?
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By the way, Carey and I have been informed that there will definitely be rioting in LA tonight. Whether the Raiders win or lose, count on it. It's just a matter of deciding between a celebratory riot or a pissed-off riot. But, Oakland's in the Super Bowl, so the city is gearing up either way.

How friggin' retarded is that?