Yesterday I couldn’t find my favorite pair of socks; Actually, they’d been missing for weeks. Then there were a couple of shirts. And a pair of pants. Things were disappearing left and right. Then this morning i stumbled onto my suitcase and opened it up. Everything was right there. I hadn’t even unpacked since the Australian trip, April 22. And this whole time I was washing clothes every other day to make up for it.

Even on friday, when I got some ketchard (ketchup/mustard blend) on my hiling shorts that spiled from my hotdog, Daddyo made the wise crack about how they were my only shorts. Well, not anymore since I found my suitcase. And when you travel alot, you begin to realise that you not only take a long time to unpack, but in my case, sometimes I NEVER unpack…you know, just keep a bagged packed just in case…

Sometimes life gets a bit monotonous doing the same routine as most people will say if you ask them. When we tour, it can be the same way. But, just like anywhere else, what makes the time go by smoother is when you have those moments that make you laugh, even if it’s the same joke over and over. Our Trombonist, Bjorn, is always asking Rusty to say, “140.” Now, to us this is very funny. Why? because, in England, they show you these bingo channels on the hotel tv and the VERY british female announcer annunciates the numbers in such a serious and pronounced way, it’s beyond hilarious, really. She says it something like this: wondhondred ahnd eye-tea!!!!! sevahn-tea feyeve!!! sex-tea-hate!!!!!! i mean, to me, it’s got to be easier just to say 140, 75 and 68. But not in England, not in this life.

I sent an e-mail to Ed (Freedom Man) and copied my friend, Eva, cause I wanted a witness; back in early March I e-mailed the Whitehouse (I also called, if you may recall) with a polite letter asking George W. Bush if he wouldn’t mind resigning as soon as possible. Mind you, I never got an answer. Well, that changed today. I got an e-mail from ol Dubya. I sent it to Ed and Eva so none of ya’ll would think I was trying to be funny (who, me?). Dude sent me an e-mail. Guess what he wanted? M-O-N-E-Y!!!!

Now, I’ve had the Republican National Committee’s e-mails blocked from my account yet they still get thru no matter how many times i complain to the server. But ol Dubya wanted something like $2,000 for his campaign in 2004 (startin early, eh pal?). I want to give him $2,000 to get re-elected like I want to get castrated with a plastic butter knife.

Now, I went to the new Trader Joe’s in West Hollywood today and, you folks that don’t have Trader Joe’s in your neighborhood, you’re bummin’ right now cause TJ has lots of great food and all kinds of good organic stuff and beer and wine and imported cheese…and it’s really affordable and everything. You can get those free range chickens, instead of those streesed-out ones that chain smoke and are on prozac. Well, it’s bed time…I am tired…this Diary is in the fridge, the eggs are coolin’ the butter’s gettin’ har and the Jel-looooooooooooooo’s-a-jigglin’……rest in peace Chick, rest in peace…..

Mike Randle