(no subject)
playing wow on the trolley tracks.
i could totally see it.
and look at that guy checking me out,
i oughta punch him in the jugular.
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pat holding his cat, marley. (though i refuse to call her that college-cliche of a name)
he is kinda this goofy looking but not really.
and he holds his cat like... dr. evil.
i should punch him in the jugular, if he weren't so cute.
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speaking of tourists.
pat works at the wharf on weekends, so i go visit him for lunch.
tourist-central.
pat and i are walking, and he says "lots of trannies here today."
look around, "how.. can you tell, honey?"
to which he replies, "the bad america shirts and cameras and the slow walking."
"wtf are you talking about?"
pat looks at me puzzled and says "trannies, you know... tourists."
"sweetheart, this is sf. tourists are not called trannies. then we might confuse them with transgenders... and i think the transgender community would be insulted by that."