My head is bursting with fruit flavor and/or thumpety pain. I was fine earlier tonight, well enough to go out and eat with my nearest cousin, Bonnie. It was apparently a spur of the moment thing - one minute I'm in my living room reading in an ergonomics-defying position, the next I'm trying to find a clean shirt so I can eat at the Wild Ginger with relatives. Well, a relative and her friend from L.A., Rosa. Afterwards, they asked if I wanted to go to a nearby dance club called the "Aristocrat". I hadn't heard of it, and decided that this meant it wasn't downtown.

It was, in fact, in "Chinatown", more pcorrectly referred to as the "International District". We saw a big line of short people out front, but once we had parked and walked up to the front side of the club, we found ourselves in what appeared to be high school. More specifically, any high school in Hawaii, before an assembly. Spiked asian hair as far as the eye could see! Ridiculously modified cheap Hondas! (including, but not limited to: giant vinyl kanji stickers, clear-look turn signals, badly color-mismatched aftermarket front spoilers, and what appear to be biplane wings bolted to the trunk.) Unhappy looking girls with clubwear resembling tropical bathing suits! While waiting in line, a fedora-d japanese man carrying a clipboard called out to ask if any single women were waiting in line that didn't want to wait to get in - and Bonnie jumped at the chance. Rosa didn't want me to stand around by myself, so she stayed outside with me. Half an hour later, when we actually made it to the door, both Rosa and I decided we didn't actually want to be in this club, solidly packed with smoked teenage asians. We waited outside for Bonnie to find the people she was meeting. And waited and waited. I watched the bouncers at work, bouncing people. I decided that I like bouncers - they deal with the worst in people all night, by being huge and impenetrable. They must have character - to be able to not lose it and paste every stupid kid who has something to prove (several instances of which I witnessed in ten minutes). They can't get upset or worked up when people get in their faces, because it happens constantly, all night. They would be exhausted.

Bounce, dog. -- the bouncer at Aristocrats, to an attitude laden punk.

We stood around outside talking about the wacky people surrounding us, the various pros/cons of living in L.A., and other unrelated topics (I guess we were on "shuffle"). Finally, Bonnie and (rats, his name isn't Clyde or anything remotely like that) the guy emerged, and merrily we rolled along. Now I'm home, and I have a big fat headache.

Last night, I went out to have a beer and pizza with the stranger, Helen. She's quite smart, but understated. She lives in this neighborhood, which puts her in the vanishingly small category of "people I could go grab a beer with in under ten minutes". Propinquity is a good quality in friends (and strangers).

My headache is fading. My strategy of painkill was successful.

Synj is funneeee

Unbeatable I made up this riff on the shore of la'ie beach in Hawaii. I still can't play it. (1.54M mp3)