Cute Girl Report

A little back ground: These were weekly reports written when I was getting my college boy degree. I'm currently pursuing a career as governer which explains and excuses the drunken spelling. Dave Ninja saved my email reports and compiled 'em into one big mound of crap.

Due to unpopular demand, I've broken this down into month size chunks. Lucky you.


Okay, here's the set-up. I met this girl the first day of school, and then lo and behold she turns out to be in one of my classes. I came home, and started writing the Cute Girl Report up on my roommate's wall. Some days it kinda sucks, and some days it ain't so bad. But it is long and it is text based, and after all, you are just killing time at work or between classes.


Mon., Oct. 2: Nothing to report. Minor dialogue. No big deal.

Wed., Oct. 4: Some conversation. When professor mentions midterms, she asks if I want to "study" with her!

Fri., Oct. 6: C.G. walks in and I start to tell her about the really cool car wreck I saw last night where a bitchin' Camaro almost flipped a BMW over. She says, "Oh that's terrible" and is totally unimpressed. I don't even get to the part about the BMW slamming into a building and sliding down the sidewalk. She's weaking boots with a side zipper an 3" heels. She asks what I'm doing this weekend, and I say going to Gilman. She laughs and says, "Wow, I should have guessed. I hung out there when I was 15 (gee, that again?), and now here you are hanging out there." I told her I don't really hang out there as much as it seems and the Mr. T is playing there tonight. She laughs and says she saw them there, like 7 years ago. Now she doesn't even remember what they sound like. I ask what music she likes, and she says techno house dance stuff. Oh yeah, and she's 21.

Mon., Oct. 9: Class canceled--no cute girl.

Wed., Oct. 11: C.G. condenscendingly, "So how was Gilman? Did you mosh with the 15-year-olds?" Oh boy, did I laugh. She complains of a stiff neck and talks about aceing the physical anthro test Lisa-the-roommate flunked. She tells me she's going dancing tonight 'cause she ain't been danciing in a while. She said nothing about "studying" together.

Mon., Oct. 16: Nuthin' much to say--just a general have-a-nice-weekend-are-you-going-to-Gilman-type thing.

Wed., Oct. 18: She complains about how hard the midterm's going to be, and how she has 4 midterms next week. She gets my phone number for a study group and talks about how she's moving because she hates her roommate. I tell her there's 7 of us in my place. She says, "They're all punk rockers, right?" I tell her close, but there's a hippy who smokes pot all the time.

Date: Wed, 18 Oct 1995 19:46:25 -0700 (PDT): I'm in first. C.G. comes in and sits next to me. I say, "I'm bored. Tell me a story." She stares ahead like she's thinking and says, "I don't know any." I ask, "Have you ever been arrested?" When she was 16 she was driving her boyfriend "a total asshole, a total jerk, a total loser" around. He ran into a music store, grabbed a guitar, came running out and hopped into the car. She drove off. The cops nailed 'em, cuffed 'em, and took 'em to the hoosegow. She had a shaved head except a patch in the back, and Johnny Law asked if she was a satanist. I told her about my misdemeanor conviction for discharging a firearm in a prohibited area, and how the cop said he could kill us and no one would ever know. She said, "What a fucking asshole. I can't believe he said. What an asshole." I didn't bother telling her I thought it was funny. Then I went on the attack, "So, did you go raving this weekend?" She said, "Why yes I did. First time in a couple of months." Geez, and I was being sarcastic. At least I thought I was. I asked if she ate any exctasy, she nodded yes and drew a heart around the letter E. I guess it's code. I asked if she hugged all her friends and told them that she loved them. She said she does that anyway, and asked if I've tried X. I said, "Nope, I ain't gonna pay $25 for drugs." She made a big point like I was completely naive, that it ONLY costs $20. I told her I just drink, and she said, "Eww, how aggro." When class ended I said, "Happy Raving!"

Sun. Oct. 22 : Oops, I forgot something on Wednesday's report when she said she was going to rave. I asked if she wore a Cat-In-The-Hat-Hat. C.G. said, "No, I'm not _that_ kind of raver." Me, "Aren't they required by law?" C.G. getting a little testy, "No." Yeah, it probably would've been better if I remembered to toss that part in at the right time. Oh well. Now for Friday's report.

C.G. yells, "Dave! Hey Dave!" as I'm walking to class. And I was wondering if she'd even talk to me. Nothing much in class to say. She was wearing pants _with_ cuffs(!) and drinking bottled H2O. After class she said, "What little punk thing are you doing THIS weekend? Gilman?" Me, "I'm going to Idaho to get some piranha." C.G., "Idaho? What else are you going to do there?" Me, "What do you mean `what else'?! It's Idaho. There ain't no reason to go to Idaho." C.G., "You are so punk rock. Have fun."

Anyways, speaking of Idaho. We left Friday night after seeing the YahMos at Gilman. Idaho banned the importation of piranha this summer when they found out the rivers and lakes didn't get cold enough to kill them. So yeah, we uh, drove to Idaho for nothing. Ate a lot of jerky, though. Bill spent $15 on jerky at one gas station, including a 3 foot beef stick.

Mon. Oct. 23: The C.G. walked into class and asked how was Idaho. I told her Idaho quit selling piranha this summer, so it was kind of a wasted trip (except it was still fun). I told her how we just ate jerky and free casino drinks, and she told me how the martini was invented in Frisco. I started to tell her more, but she didn't seem interested. So she'll live her whole life without hearing the dead deer story. She said I was weird for going to Idaho, and we set up a date to "study" with Jen who sits in front of us. It'll be a 3-way study session, heh heh. She's moving to a place without a stove, sparking a class discussion on microwaves vs. hot plates. That is all. End of transmission.

Date: Mon, 23 Oct 1995 17:32:51 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: About Idaho....

Hey, this gets kinda gorey towards the end. I dunno if all you want to read a vile story where I run over a dead deer in the truck. If'n you don't wanna know about roadkill mutilation, stop after the jerky. Gee Dave, why wouldn't someone want to hear about running over a dead deer?

Yeah, so we left for Idaho after seeing the YahMos at Gilman. Dave Ninja, Bill, Steve Mar, and myself all in Steve's truck. Two in the front, and two in the back in little fold out seats that faced each other. We stopped by Dave Ninja's and loaded up on cola and jerky, then went on to Reno for free drinks, and so I could lose $20 in quarters. We reached Idaho the next day, and lo and behold, Idaho outlawed piranha this summer. We hit a thrift store and turned back.

During the trip we ate jerky and beef sticks to the near exclusion of all else. We had buffalo jerky and beef jerky. Plain jerky and plain beef sticks. Terriyaki jerky and terriyaki beef sticks. Hot & Spicey jerky. Hot & Spicy terriyaki jerky. And jerky ground up and packaged to look like chewing tobacco. Bill also bought a 3 foot long beef stick. All washed back with RC Cola, and President's Choice Brand Cola and Root Beer.

On the way back, I decided to run over a dead deer that we saw on the way up. At first it was just a joke, but then it became a mission. I really needed to pee, so it became a chance to pee on a dead deer, then run it over. We debated peeing first and then running it over vs. running it over then peeing. We decided pee first, then run it over. We drove and drove looking for the dead deer. They're easy enough to spot in the daytime--you just need to look for the birds circling the carcass and plucking out the eyes. But at night, it's something else. Finally, my back teeth were swimming and I couldn't hold out any longer. I pulled over, and we all got out to empty bladders in the cold Oregon desert. We started driving again, and about a quarter mile down, there was our dead deer. I stopped and we looked at it. We laughed so hard at the utter stupidity of driving over a dead deer that the windows fogged up and Dave Ninja had to turn on the defroster.

I thought about not doing it, but Bill and Steve pointed out that I'd probably regret it later. It was one thing to joke about it, but looking at it was something different. I thought about just driving over it's legs, but maiming a dead deer seemed worse than just running over it. Luckily, Steve's truck was 4-wheel drive so there were no worries about getting stuck on an ex-deeer in the middle of the desert. I decided, to hell with it, I was going forward. Dave Ninja pushed the magic button that activated 4-wheel drive and I went for it. When the front tire hit, the truck kinda slowed and pushed the deer forward. Then the deer snagged on something and up and over we went. The back tire went over fine. Probably because the back of the truck is so light. I backed up to see what happens when one goes 4-wheelin' over venison.

It split the deer open, so deer gore was spilling out. Not as bad as I would've thought. I'm sure the coyotes and vultures had an easy breakfast the next day. Not as cool as the time Ed nearly got to see a moose dynamited in Vermont, but we didn't have any dynamite. Well, on the way back I won $30 in Reno, but didn't get any free drinks. We dropped off Dave Ninja, and were back in Frisco at 7 am. Today, I broke my braces eating jerky for dinner.

Date: Wed, 25 Oct 1995 13:29:19 -0700 (PDT): Sadly enough, the Cute Girl died yesterday. No, just kidding. Class was canceled, so there won't be a cute girl report until after our "study" session tonight. Like how I put "study" in quotes, like I'm expecting to get my pipe cleaned? Ooh-ha, I slay me.

Date: Thu, 26 Oct 1995 00:45:38 -0700 (PDT)
Subject: C.G. Holiday Report

It's the special holiday edition, sort of like Charlie Brown's Christmas. I went over to Jen's house to "study" with her and the Cute Girl. C.G. started talking about how much pot she smokes, and how much she hates her roommate, "She's a sorority girl and a cheerleader, you know."Then she complains about some teachers, some classes and some other stuff I don't remember. Then, C.G. and Jen started teasing me about driving to Idaho and not getting any piranha. Jen said she would've went, and I told her we left after seeing a punk rock show at Gilman. When I said Gilman I looked at C.G. This triggered probably one of the greatest C.G. lines she'll ever utter, "Do you know Lint? Oh, I mean Tim Armstrong? I used to date him. I can't believe his face is on Spin and Rolling Stone now. He was so dumb. He used to tell me girls went out with him because he's so smart." I'm going to try to get her to name-drop someone cool like Sewer Trout or something. That'd be the best--I used to date Hal the drummer. But I think the lowly Sewer Trout had done broke up by the time C.G. was reigning Queen of Gilman. She didn't end up getting the place without the stove because there's no smoking, and she smokes so much pot she couldn't live there. I told her there was a room opening up here, but she acted like she didn't hear me. She wouldn't live here anyway, we live like pigs. Besides her mom's paying her rent, so she's gonna live somewheres nice--she's looking in the $650-700 range. Fuck, I could retire on that.

Fri., Oct. 27: Mid-term. Nothing to report

Mon., Oct. 30: CG doesn't show up for class.