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.


Date: Mon, 5 Feb 1996 15:52:50 -0800 (PST)
Subject: Monday, Feb. 5

I was late for class, so I didn't sit next to CG, I sat next to a punk rock girl. CG sat next to me in lab and asked if I had an extra helmet so I could ride her home. I didn't, but no biggee. She complained about this weeekend's Rave being like totally lame, and I told her the cockfight was a washout. Oddly enough, she wasn't too interested in the cockfight, but I won't get into that here, 'cause this ain't the Cockfight Report, it's the Cute Girl Report. I asked her if the Rave sucked on account of bad smart drinks going around, but that wasn't worthy of a reply from her. I told her I was gonna do a class project on Raves so I could follow her around and write down everything she did. She wasn't too amused. Then she started whining about the rock lab, 'cause we were expected to figure out what rocks were what based on a piss-poor identification chart. Yeah, it was impossible, but no reason to get your panties in an uproar. I told her I liked seeing her pissed off because it amused me. She continued crying about the rocks and whined about it as we left. Maybe next Monday I'll bring an extra helmet so I can ride her home and see what the CG Palace looks like.

Date: Wed, 7 Feb 1996 20:03:25 -0800 (PST)
Subject: CG Report: Wed., 2/7/96 (crazy ass long)

I walk into class, and CG's wearing glasses reading a book. Of course I call her 4-eyes and taunt her with "You've got defective eyes! You've got defective eyes!" in a sing-song playground way. She squawks about her sore arm, and I ask if she has scars from the surgery. She's got three and she started to show me, or maybe she just wanted to show me her bra strap, but I started laughing that she needed surgery from not having power steering, and that ended her strip-tease. I ask if she prefers amino acid based Smart Drinks and she said she's never had a Smart Drink. I was shocked, but she's not that kind of Raver. At last weekend's Rave some girl touched her and her friends (her best friend's named Rene just like the 9-year-old at the cockfight), and she rubbed my arm to show me. I think CG was just hot and bothered by my suave dialogue and couldn't keep her mits off me--What dame can resist a line like "Ha ha, you've got defective eyes!"? If there's one, I never heard of her. Next topic of conversation was if she's ever seen a knife fight at a rave. I forgot I had asked her that Monday, but Monday she said Nope. And when I asked about gun fights, same thing. She said punks were aggro, not Ravers, but all that was on Monday, not today. I told her I was gonna follow her around and take notes on everything she did for a Rave paper. Maybe I should give her a copy of 2 semesters worth of CG reports after the final this year. She was getting pretty annoyed and when class got out I asked, "If a ninja went to a Rave could he kick everyone's ass?" She walked away. Sensing blood, me say "Oh, you're not even going to dignify that with a response I see. I'll just re-ask like you didn't hear me. If a ninja fought a Rave, who would win?" She mumbled something about me being goofy or somethingand instead of walking down the hall with me like usual, hung a left into the bathroom saying "See you next week." Monday's the day I bring my extra helmet to school and ride her home. I'll call her 4-eyes a lot, so she's gets lust crazed and strips nekkid before we get to her place. Then I can leave her alone and frustrated.

Tess wants me to ask her what Lint, oh I mean Tim Armstrong's sperm tastes like. Maybe Monday'll be the day. But maybe not, 'cause if I asked that she'd probably quit sitting next to me, and then I'd have to find something productive to do with my time.

Lisa asked if I'd try to describe CG physically again 'cause she's having problems picturing her. Let's see, she's even shorter than me--about 5'4" maybe shorter. Short dark brown hair that's sometimes dark red. Not fat or even chunky, but she looks pretty solid--built for comfort, not for speed. She's the type that wears micro-backpacks, clogs, and those stupid pants that look almost like a skirt. She hasn't worn one of those shirts with the heart centered to attract attention to her hooters. I should ask her why she doesn't wear those. Hmmm....I guess I should start taking notes on how she's dressed too. Okay, Monday will include the CG Fashion Report. Oh yeah, she wears pants with the cuffs cut off and frayed. Yeah, you've all seen the type. She's got a mug that makes you think, "Geez, that girl looks irritating." Kinda like Anne-with-an-E, only without Anne's good points (sorry to all the people who don't know Anne-with-an-E, you'll just have to use your imagination).

Date: Mon, 12 Feb 1996 17:59:25 -0800 (PST)
Subject: CG Report: Mon., Feb. 12

The phone rings and Dawna the Crazy Slut From Nevada City answers. "Hey Dave, there's some chick on the phone for you. She sounds pretty cute." Little did she know it was THE Cute Girl! CG called to remind me to bringa "helmet" to use on her when I rode her. Gotta keep that head covered. I'm in class first and CG walks in. She's got those giant heeled clog looking things, and her cuffs are cut off her pants. She'swearing a black low-cut shirt thingee and a yellow and black coat. I don't think she has freckles, but I forgot to check (sorry Andy). I ask if she went to any Raves this weekend. She counters with "None. How many punk rock shows did you go to? I bet you went to Gilman." Okay, she got me there. I went to the Makers Friday, Chumpslap at Gilman Saturday, and then to Davis for the YahMos, then to Sacto for the Bananas all on Saturday (but I was kinda pretty much tore up and spent my time at the Bananas wishing that the Whiskey Devils would quit dancing around in my head. I didn't puke though, and not even at Dave Ninjas later). I shrugged off the Gilman comment like Clint Eastwood shrugging off Sandra Locke, and spat on the ground at the thought of Lyne Halsey Taylor (Sandra Locke's role in the right-turn-Clyde monkey movies). Okay, I didn't really spit. I launched a counter-attack that was too deadly, "How many furry Rave coats do you own?" That degenerated to her complaining about the people she saw wearing vinyl pants and asked if I ever wore any vinyl pants. Sadly, I have not. She asked if I ever had leopard print hair,but I haven't. Her natural hair color is brown. Purple hair at age 14. Blue flattop at 15. Then black from 15 through 18 ending with red hair at18. I wrote down her hair information in my class notes and thought about telling her I was really gonna write about her. I don't. She rubs (noteven bumps) her leg on the desk, complains (duh) and bends over to look ather injured leg. I didn't grab the opportunity to check out her cleavage plane (innuendo courtesy of Mr. Ninja), because I started laughing and didn't want her to think I was laughing at her hooters. Oh yeah, when I told her about the booze consumed, she asked when my birthday was. I said March 14, what are you gonna get me? She looked at me and said pisces and nodded like I was telling her stuff she already knew. I asked "what are you gonna get me?" about 5 more times, but she wouldn't answer. It must be a surprise. Her birthday is August 22. After lab she decided I didn't need to take her home at all. Maybe I shouldn't have demanded a tour ofthe House o' Rave. At the elevator she complained that her stomach hurt, but wouldn't answer me any of the times I asked what was wrong with her belly.

As part of the Cute Girl zine, I want youse to send me a picture, drawing whatever of what you think CG looks like. It should be in black ink and suitable for copying. My address: po box 2414/sacto, CA/95812-2414. Send it like yesterday, daddy-o. I only get free copies for another week.

>From Dave Ninja:
haha you got ditched by the cute girl
i should have senta picture with the tape but i forgot until now
i'll draw it in ascii /\/\/\/\ \/ \/ | o o | | ^^ | \ --> / \___/
there hows that?
haha kill me please batman

Date: Wed, 28 Feb 1996 15:53:06 -0800 (PST)
Subject: Wed., 2/28

I walk into class late, plant my bologna munching ass down next to CG, and demand a Rave Story. At Saturday's Rave, the all danced in the rain wearing ski hats--even CG! I don't get the joke, but she thought it was pretty damn funny. In class the prof mentioned Mt. Diablo and CG saidt hat's where she's from. I asked if she lived on top of the mountain, she said below. "Cave," I asked. She said, "Yeah, with my neanderthal family." I told her I figured she lived in the cave 'cause she used to be a goth death rocker who only listened to Joy Division. When she said she did listen to Joy Division I accused her of coming out here from England to join the aryan resistance and that it was only a matter of time before she shot herself leaving a suicide note addressed to her gun (all while the professor lectured). About half a second into my rambling crazy man pitch based on the best news story since Kenneth, what is the frequency, she covered the side of her face nearest me with her hand, looked about as p.o.'ed as she gets and actively ignored me all class. After class she high-tailed it out the door right quick saying, "have a nice weekend" leaving me a broken bitter (but highly amused with myself) man. Why she sits next to me and puts up with this I'll never know. I figure the semester will end with CG getting a restraining order against me.

Fashion Report: I forget besides some dumb sweater and a purple umbrella.