Weffalumps and Hoozles

They say Ambien isn't addictive in the habit forming way, so that aside.. after having taken my little bed buddy an hour earlier, I was still feeling a tad frisky in the early hours of the morning. My thoughts probably went something like, "Dude, this isn't working, let's go play some poker and then golf." I guess the stuff effects everyone a tad different, but for me, taking ambien is a lot like downing a handle of cheap vodka in one swig, then getting socked in the face with a mack truck composed entirely of down pillows. But without the physical effects of a hangover, I'm still unable to remember anything the next day.

I first started taking it during first semester finals last year. It took me a few tries to figure out you're supposed to take the stuff in bed, and not wander around aimlessly in the satanic grips of an ambien high. For example, ala Patty Mac the day after the Theology exam. "Are you alright?" "Huh wuh?" "You were wandering around the dorm last night and fell down the stairs. Came back up ten minutes later grinning and said, 'mission accomplished!' and went to your room." We may never know what happened that night, but I have a few guesses. I plead moral inculpability to two of the possibilites. This is all a fancy way of saying, don't walk around after taking ambien.

To continue, I was somehow coherent enough to aid my new goal of poker and golf to realize I didn't have any clean clothes. I then managed to gather my laundry from the basement and tackle the poorly lit staircase strewn with school boxes in various states of unpacking, and do the deed. I woke up the next day lying on the floor in the upstairs study, my laptop on a chair beside me. I noticed I was still logged into Empire poker, and was sitting away with twice my buy-in, when I heard Mother Dearest yelling my name. She walked into the study holding the battered and soaking remains of my only friend, cell phone.

Thus, I managed to destroy a $250 cell phone and win that exact same amount within the brief window of time alloted me by the ambien devil. My clothes were clean, the sun was up, and feeling well rested, I finished my fated task. Another brief glimpse into the Summer of Josh. If only the people around here played Frisbee Golf.


One of my few solaces has abused me like a red-headed stepchild. The new Willy Wonka movie priced me the dual penalty of $6 and the most eye-gougingly boring two hours of my life. I love Johnny Depp, and were I to bat for the other team, I'd be aiming for him or Christian. But gag me with a shitzu, he blew in this. The writing was atrocious, and all of the characters were horribly cast and played. I also love Tim Burton, but this time his infamous brand of cinematography was grafted onto the warty ass of an encephalitic midget. THE HORRIBLE FUCKING OOPMA LOOMPAS!!! I tried to leave after their first pop/rave ode to the gluttonous demise of Augustus Gloop, but my brother had the car keys.

He later brought home a rental copy of Constantine. I hadn't heard of it, but it had Keanu "I know Kung-fu?" Reeves, so why not. I was then treated to two hours of mindless blasphemy. The New York Times can quote this review, "Keanu Reeves plays the jaded demon-slayer Constantine, intent on foiling the plot of the Arch-angel Gabriel to bring Mutu, the bastard son of Satan, into the physical plane of humanity to test the worthiness of mankind before God!" That about says it all.

I suppose I should learn to stay away from anything my brother wants to see. His favorite movie of all time happens to be Joe Dirt.


Hmmm. I've got a room-mate now. I'll be rooming with Darren in Ojai until he leaves for Europe next year. I'll probably leave in a week or two. Which would make this the twilight of the Summer of Josh. Toodles. Oh yeah, if anyone needs to reach me, email me at tacjosh at hotmail, since the phone is down.