Just a gigolo, and everywhere he goes...

Wow. Days flyin' by. Busy, busy, bees.

Poor bees. Have you heard? Billions dying around the world. One theory is cell phones. Yup. Radio waves screw up their little heads, they leave the hive, and never come back. Poor bees.

My scientist-sister-in-law blew holes through this theory though: if it was cell phone usage, then the massive bee deaths would have started in England (which has the highest rate of cell phone usage in the world for the longest time), instead of starting in one part of the U.S. (as reported) and slowly spreading outwards.
In any case: cell phones = evil!

And I might be getting one for my job. Ick.

I'm a no-car person. Walk, bus, and ride bike (and bum rides).
Weird people on the bus. Other day good looking dude gets on, dressed sharply (black leather jacket, nice shirt, black pants, white stylish shoes, bald, well groomed, you get the picture). Heavy accent. Starts talking to me, I keep up the conversation cuz I'm in a good mood so no problems there, plus the fact I'll be getting off in five minutes. He starts telling me he's seeing three girls tonight, one after the other.
Wow, I say, busy night.
Ya, he says.
He goes on to explain how he came from Israel two years ago. A barber by trade.
I take quick glance to his bald head. Hmm, I say.
Do you want to know how I've been sustaining myself for the last six months, he asks.
I nod.
I'm a gigolo, he says.
Really, I say.
Ya. Palomino Club. Great place to meet women, he says. They're like 42, 43, but that's cool.
Ah, I say.
Ya, he says. They give me money. I don't ask for it. They buy me gifts. Clothes. (He points to the shoes) Versache, he says.
I nod. Nice. My stop, gotta go.
Come with me, he says. We'll have fun.
I laugh.
Probably, I say. I know you will.

I spent the evening playing Destroy all Humans on my PS2. Quite a different evening, I would say.