Hello ev’ry body! It’s the New Year `O4?!
and I weigh 200 pounds!

Lil Wee Diary — Final entree (sic)

If you need somebody, call my name
If you want someone, you can do the same
If you want to keep something precious
You got to lock it up and throw away the key
You want to hold onto your possession
Don’t even think about me

If you love somebody
If you love someone
Set them free.

It’s Lil Wee’s last night at Hotel Rudi-Lenni. So we’re gonna go out to a rabbit bar and get hammered.
No, No…
It wouldn’t hurt to get a bit more of preparation done fore the morning and my first classes of the year. So we’ll spend the evening reading through textbooks and dictionaries and grammars and chewing on carrots and lettuce and newspaper.

My buddy Sarah should be back tomorrah and then I must surrender Wee. People ask me how I feel about that and I tell them to check back tomorrow. To wax rhetorical, though I must say it’s not so much that I’m losing a rabbit, but rather I’m regaining a friend.

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Little Wee Diary
That is just adorable. Wee is all stretched out on her side on the carpet like a cat. She’s dozing off… awakens with a start! Doooozing… awakens with a start! Watching her fall asleep makes me sleepy.

77777777777777777777777777777777777777777777777 oops just nodded off with my finger on the seven.

Now she’s cleaning out her left ear with her back foot. Now she’s licking her foot. That’s kind of gross.

But what really gross is
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Last night’s jam session had its moments. The drummer, an older fellow, must have organized it. He brought in his kit and a sequencer. The sequencer was too loud but the crowd was glad that it drowned out my guitar.

I played Man of Constant and Three is a Magic number, like always. Everybody left, but then came back when I stopped playing.

One of the managers from a NY jazz club in the 50s recalled booking Bird this one time, and Bird in turn booked a really bad country group to go on in between sets. People got up and left in droaves. The manager told them to stop playing and get off the stage. Parker said if they go he goes too. He was a-schemin’, you see, to get more turnaround by vacating seats for each set. Pretty sneaky, Sis.

The house party was a real riot. It was still hopping when we got back around 4. The entire house looked like a warzone the next day. Someone lost the key to my loo, but it was found the next day. Martin’s bike was stolen.
Wee was a big hit; she gave an utmost eloquent and lengthy toast to the coming of a new year. She reminded us to cherish the boundless possibilities that lie ahead of us rather than waste one single drop more of precious energy brooding over the unrevertable errors of the past. Well, she said it much better than I could; she is truly wise beyond her months.

Interesting fact of the day.

“Caligula” means “little boots”. My buddy Sarah’s cat is named Lil Boots. He’s not completely unlike Caligula; Boots once nominated Wee consul of Rome. But after that the parallels diminish with assuredly unastonishing rapidity.
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And speaking of drinking beer…

Floridian Witzbold Dave Barry looks back on 2003.

LWD
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Today on Fresh Air they reaired interviews with Bob Dorough and Fred Rogers. I had heard both before but were worth hearing again. I am definitely a Bob Dorough freak. Three is indeed a magic number.

But what knocked me off my ass was a story Mr Rogers told. When asked if the crew ever played pranks on him, he recalled in his inimitable manner how the crew once put an inflatable date in the closet.

Poor Richard set us up the bomb
AP - The FBI is warning police nationwide to be alert for people carrying almanacs, cautioning that the popular reference books covering everything from abbreviations to weather trends could be used for terrorist planning. . . The FBI noted that use of almanacs or maps may be innocent, "the product of legitimate recreational or commercial activities."

LWD the magic bunny.
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