It Was Always You.

Last night I think I fell in love with a Hawaiian boy. Which is odd in that I don't even know how to spell Hawaiian boy. I fell asleep just fine, but then I woke up with this strange feeling that I had been dreaming about Hawaiian boy all night long. Oh christ his name is Chris and he dated a suicide girl for years until he realized they were dirty dirty girls. Now he is purported to screw anything that moves, and I'm thinking I've got arms.

Last night we all had a Velvet Pony which is nothing more than a shot of Royal Crown followed by a shot of pickle juice. EWWWWWWWW! I knew it was trouble, but Hawaiian boy/Chris convinced me it was my responsibility. The things I do in the name of love.

It is also my sad duty to announce that John Woo's House of the Jade Pagoda will be closing it's doors after 63 years. August 31st is what the notice says. All the games of gin, and shots of whiskey (this was before Texas Hold'em was the new spelling-bee). All the times Dolly blared from the jukebox. The conflux of memory and emotion is a little overwhelming. All I can say is that we are going one last time tomorrow night and I am bringing my camera. There will be a digital record of the House of the Jade Pagoda, and I am going to do some unspeakable things to Hawaiian boy/Chris. Oh you mark my words.

The Yankees game was rained out last night. i'm not sure if this means double header or what. Moose is still on the DL, and the remainder of the Yankees pitching staff has left me feeling a little cold lately. But i'm sure they try their best.

Holla out to Pony who has finally found what she was looking for. It's amazing when you think, no compromises, and you actually get what you want.

Some impetuous thing asked if woolfphase could include more captions with the photos. In the case of House of the Jade Pagoda it may be inevitable, however, everything you know is exactly what you were meant to know. Otherwise you would know it already.