KWBR

ZERO:
"Outta Control (remix)" (11)
"Wake Me Up When September Ends" (15)

15) My Chemcial Romance ¤ Ghost Of You (debut)
14) Common ¤ Testify (8)
13) Weezer ¤ Perfect Situation (debut)
12) Fall Out Boy ¤ Dance, Dance (12)*
11) Coldplay ¤ Fix You (9)

10) Franz Ferdinand ¤ Do You Want To (10)
09) Ying Yang Twins feat. Pitbull ¤ Shake (13)
08) 50 Cent ¤ Hustler's Ambition (4)
07) Chris Brown feat. Juelz Santana ¤ Run It (remix) (14)*
06) the All-American Rejects ¤ Dirty Little Secret (7)*

05) Black Eyed Peas ¤ My Humps (5)
04) the White Stripes ¤ My Doorbell (6)

03) Kanye West feat. Jamie Foxx ¤ Gold Digger (1)

02) Pharrell feat. Gwen Stefani ¤ Can I Have It Like That (3)*

01) Juelz Santana ¤ There It Go (The Whistle Song) (2) [2w]

This post is brought to you BAH: "I Wish" by Stevie Wonder

AvB: Friday Barometer

BUSH: Guess who's got a one-day weekend? Everybody else in the house is good and off, of course. Hate on my job. Hate hate hate hate hate hate hate hate.

BUSH: I'm missing Danny's party tomorrow, and the rematch between my alma mater and our inbred moronic pigfucking rivals in the playoffs tonight.

BUSH: Still have to see Walk The Line, and Harry Potter and His Magic Wand or whatever it is. Oh, and Shopgirl, if it's as good as the book. Lousy movie theatres--why can't I wait until next summer and buy the DVDs!?

ALBA: Payday...ish. Time to start chipping away at the Christmas list.

ALBA: That goes for y'all, too.

ALBA: Thanksgiving. Stuffing and pasta and rolls and apple pie a la mode and collard greens and mashed potatoes, oh my!

BUSH: No three-cheese Au Gratin potatoes! Terrorists haven't won, my ass.

ALBA: This Texas/A&M game is real good. I'm sort of rooting for something to fuck up the BCS, of course. I think on my list of things I hate, the BCS is somewhere between Dick Cheney and chicken salad.

BUSH: The stupid drunk nigga who got arrested at Denny's, railing about his order and how his hat got disrespected at 3 in the morning on Thanksgiving. Grandmaster Flash 3:16--don't push me, 'cause I'm close to the edge... and this is why I have to bust my ass at 150%.

ALBA: Partying with my 3 best friends Wednesday night.

BUSH: I thought it would've been a little crazier, to be honest. It was about a 6, 7 tops. I'll make it up to you next time, Amanda, I swears it.

ALBA: My top 25 songs of the year are done--except which one is number one. I may have to split the vote like I did in '03.

ALBA: Tuesday a DJ played "Cool It Now" by New Edition, followed by "Motownphilly" by BIIM. OLD SCHOOL~!

ALBA: The Boondocks has been approved by yours truly, and for my non-colored brothers, you can laugh at the nigger jokes. Not that loud, though. *shakes fist*

BUSH: That reminds me, how the hell is the busiest financial day of the busiest financial time of the year named Black Friday?

ALBA: As Jen & KRS-One have seen and Rob's said, I did meet a girl online this weekend. It's part of the agony and joy of being home Saturday nights when you're sick. Anyway, she's 21, majoring in marine biology, blonde, into hip-hop, loves vodka and Fight Club, and has what has been described as a killer rack. Got the Orangio Seal of Approval and everythang. Anyway, I sent her a message Saturday night, she replied back in a couple hours, and we are what the Biz would call started talkin', getttin' familiar/Spendin' a lot of time so we can build up /A relationship or some understanding. Clearly, she is not a stranger to brothers spitting at her, but they are Poser Mobile and I'm motherfucking Verizon. And as much as I'd like to skip the pretense and propose I know she's gotten burned in the recent past (I paused for 5 seconds to shake my head. Boys are stupid.) so I'm just going to slowly build things up between us. But yeah, on the 1 to 10 she's a certified 20.

I've said it before and I'll say it again, how did we ever get along without the Internet?

ALBA: You'd better look out, because I'm gonna say fuck.

This post is brought to you BAH: "Rockin' The Suburbs" by Ben Folds

See, Now It's Just Getting Ridiculous

You're
already
number
one!

Yeah, she's had a decent year.

This post is brought to you BAH: "Welcome Back" by Mase

Mamacitas: November '05

1. Jessica Alba
2. Trish Stratus (2)
3. Angelina Jolie (3)
4. Shakira (6)*
5. Eva Longoria (4)
6. Jennifer Love Hewitt (9)*
7. Stacy Keibler (8)*
8. Salma Hayek (7)
9. Jessica Biel (15)*
10. Rachel Bilson (20)
11. Brooke Burke (5)
12. Josie Maran (12)
13. Summer Altice (11)
14. Halle Berry (10)
15. Assa Guerass [™ Orangio Productions] (17)
16. Sofia Vergara (13)
17. Katherine Heigl (27)*
18. Shannon Elizabeth (25)
19. Charisma Carpenter (34)*
20. Jennifer Walcott (21)
21. Kim Smith (14)
22. Beyonce (18)
23. Carmen Electra (16)
24. Nikki Cox (30)
25. Sarah Shahi (22)
26. Jessica Simpson-Brungardt (28)*
27. Gabrielle Union (38)*
28. Alyssa Milano (40)
29. Lacey Chabert (35)
30. Elizabeth Hurley (24)
31. Adriana Lima (32)
32. Gail Kim (re-entry)
33. Monica Bellucci (23)
34. K.D. Aubert (26)
35. Jenny McCarthy (36)
36. Ali Landry (37)
37. Kristanna Loken (19)
38. Esther Baxter (33)
39. Kelly Hu (re-entry)
40. Mya (39)

ALSO RECEIVING VOTES:
Grace Park, Kristen Bell, Eliza Dushku, Mariah Carey, Cindy Crawford, Michelle Trachtenberg
DROPPED FROM RANKINGS:
Pam Anderson (29), Rebecca Romijn (31)

This post is brought to you BAH: "Girl" by Beck

The Lost Weekend

• So.
• Thursday the Net was just being uppity, Friday it continued to be this way. Thus, my Barometer post went up around dinner time instead of lunch. But by that time, I was already out of the house.
  I'd been looking forward to seeing Jesus Is Magic ever since I'd seen the trailer during the leadup to the Aristocrats. Part of it is because Sarah Silverman's hot, and part of it is because she seems to be one of the few-standups left who works blue to make a point instead of working blue because Richard broke the door down. So I went to see it, and it was probably the funniest movie I'd seen all year. It's a limited release, so if you can, hurry up and go. I think the birth control line's worth $7 on it's own, and in the hour and a half you should find some other joke or 37 to make up the difference from there. Plus, the hot mirror scene at the end, which went from ha-ha funny to ha-ha-uh-oh real fast.
• Get home. Modem doesn't work at all, apparently. Replacement tomorrow. All right, fine.
• Pay some of my big-ass cell bill with my pissant check. Go to work. Natalie, as I write this, is still a road apple. If I'd known that would've been the result I wouldn't've paid. What good is text if you can't get any? Come home and find out they couldn't change it out, so someone's coming (today). Had I been on on Saturday, you would've seen this at some point:

THANKS, THAT WAS FUN:
"Play" (11)
"Brand New" (13)
"Unbreakable" (15)

15) Green Day ¤ Wake Me Up When September Ends (9)
14) Chris Brown feat. Juelz Santana ¤ Run It (debut)
13) Ying Yang Twins feat. Pitbull ¤ Shake (12)
12) Fall Out Boy ¤ Dance, Dance (debut)
11) 50 Cent feat. Mobb Deep ¤ Outta Control (4)

10) Franz Ferdinand ¤ Do You Want To (7)
09) Coldplay ¤ Fix You (10)
08) Common ¤ Testify (8)*
07) All-American Rejects ¤ Dirty Little Secret (14)*
06) the White Stripes ¤ My Doorbell (2)

05) Black Eyed Peas ¤ My Humps (5)
04) 50 Cent ¤ Hustler's Ambition (debut)

03) Pharrell feat. Gwen Stefani ¤ Can I Have It Like That (6)*

02) Juelz Santana ¤ There It Go [The Whistle Song] (3)*

01) Kanye West feat. Jamie Foxx ¤ Gold Digger (1) [3m]

• What's making things more frustrating is between my cold and everybody off for the 3-day weekend, I can't get into a zone where I can write something, anything for the novel. I can't come up with some necessary bridge to get me into February, even though I do have some options. I literally sat here Saturday night for 45 minutes. Thought of stuff, subplot ideas. Chucked the lot.
• Yesterday I walked around, and that actually helped a bit to get ideas. Was able to finish out the month, at any rate. I think one thing I think I like the Internet over TV--especially on weekends--is everything replays forever on TV. I was flipping the dials, looking for something to watch. (It was the hope something seen on TV would spark me to get something else down, but instead it just reaffirmed Eva Longoria is hot and Veronica Mars is a good show. Nice, TV. Nice.) I saw Eddy Guerrero, and thought maybe Telemundo had rerun SmackDown. Since I'd missed it going to see JiM, I was psyched.
  

Then I saw it was the news station.

The last wrestler I saw on the news was Owen Hart.

I've been watching that cursor blink for 3 minutes trying to get my head right. It's why I'm not watching RAW right now--the last time I cried before the terrorists was RAW is OWEN and I'd much rather not have history repeat itself. I keep thinking maybe I can unlearn what I know, that maybe if I don't watch, Eddy will be all right. I know it's wrong. I still hope I'm right.

What it is, is that Eddy Guerrero was a perfect wrestler.

I love watching Samoa Joe hit the shit out of people. I hope I never hear him talk. It'd sort of ruin things for me.

I love watching Monty Brown cut a promo. Oh, sure, it's bingo: Alpha Male Serengeti POOOUUUUUUUNNNNNNCEEEEEEE....period. I don't want to see him wrestle a match longer than 2 minutes.

Eddy...

Eddy was a whole different story. Eddy would make you care about the match. Then he'd go out and put out a good one. If you were lucky, it'd be a great one.

It didn't matter which side of the coin Eddy was on, either. In fact, towards...what's the end. Shit. Jesus. Towards the end he was working with Batista. The plan was originally for Eddy to play babyface and turn even more dickish heel. There was only one problem: nobody wanted to boo Eddy Guerrero. So they remained an Odd Couple tag team. In fact, Eddie might've been set to win the injured Batista's title last night due to the big man's injury.

Who knows. Who can say.

Eddy was so popular he had to pick on the smallest wrestler on the roster and go after his family to get jeered. And that was only by most--people still cheered, anyway. It was Eddy, for god's sakes. What sort of self-respecting fan who thinks independently is going to boo a wrestling god like Eddy Guerrero?

It started with one simple, shirt-friendly motto.

Lie, Cheat, and Steal: It's A Family Tradition.

So he and his cousin Chavo--before he became that thing that he is now--did. They did all 3 of these things. A funny thing happened on the way to heel heaven: the fans began cheering. Both of them deserved credit, but it was usually Eddy leading the charge. Whacking the opponent with the chair, then ditching it and pretending he got hit, too. Throwing them the foreign object and holding his head so they'd get DQed. Fake clap tags. Tight-pulling. Fake injuries, fake illness. It was hilarious. It was brilliant. This is how they evened the odds. And after a while, nobody cared about them being "bad". It was all about what were they going to get away with next. And how? Had we seen it? Was there going to be some new trick out of the bag to knock us all on our ass? It was great.

Jump a couple months. For the first time, Eddy got pushed as a #1 contender. We all thought the same thing. "It'd be cool. But it'd never happen in a million years."

I was busy with my first date that night when I got home and found out.

15 minutes past a million years.

Little Eddie Guerrero was the WWE Champion.

WCW had screwed him over, and the WWE hadn't done much better by him despite the beloved Latino Heat character. But Eddie Guerrero was the WWE Champion?

Anything and everything seemed possible now. A world where I dated and Eddy was allowed to run with the ball--what an age we lived in. It was rumored he'd cracked due to the strees and his daily fight against alcohol and drugs he'd been in since '01, but it didn't stop us from loving Eddy any less, didn't stop us from watching his matches--

--and this is what kills me. I saw Los Guerreros once, against the World's Greatest Tag Team. December '03, if I'm remembering right. They were slowly turning Chavo heel, but as of tonight Eddy was still riding shotgun in the lowrider with him. Chavo started the match.

And everybody--everybody--was chanting for Eddy. Of course we were. We were just a wrestling crowd; that was Eddie Fucking Guerrero standing on that apron, in the heart of the real new Mexico. And Eddy, as he always did, made the crowd work for him. He looked out at us.

He began to chant for Chavo.

What else could we do? Us, wrestling crowd. He, Eddie. We chanted for Chavo. And then, some group came up with an entirely different tactic. I remember it for the innovation. I remember it for the uniqueness, because I never heard another crowd chant it. I remember how perfect it was on both the level of the match and in the long-term storyline.

We chanted...for Guerrero.

In my mind's eye, I see a lot of Eddie right now. I should be crying. It just makes me smile, honestly. I remember the smirk, the evil look he had on his way to the epic Halloween Havoc match against Rey where he was getting nuclear heat--because that's what the news showed last night--, the Scarface-style shirt I got after that date didn't lead to a happy ending (THANK YOU, BEN MORROW), the Guerreros coming down to the ring in the Sports Arena, the slingshot senton bomb...

...and the last thing.

...during Vengeance a few years back ('03?), Rhyno had run down to the ring. Instead of spearing Eddy, he speared his then-partner and longtime friend of Eddy Chris Benoit. Eddy covered up as much as he could, suddenly realized he hadn't been hit. Rhyno roared. Eddy shirked back in fear two steps. Rhyno left. Eddy looked at Rhyno departing, looked down at Benoit (still down), then looked at the center camera and gave a perfect "Fuck it, I'll take it" look complete with shrug. All those little things made Eddy awesome. But even more than that I remember now, is him flying through the air with the frog splash.

Once upon a time, Eddy had partnered with a man named Art Barr. They were the biggest heels in Mexico, quite possibly in lucha history. Eddy turned heel and renounced his heritage. This wasn't America, where our idea of getting back at you is a sign and the word "BOO!"--this is fucking Mexico, where lucha is treated like a sport, and little old ladies swing purses at you when you fall in the front row and their grandsons, if they're feeling particularly vengeful, come at you with a knife.

One day before a show, they called Art Barr's hotel room.

He didn't answer either.

They found him dead, too.

32.

That's obscene.

Enlarged heart, too.

After his death, Eddy changed finishers.

Rob got higher. D'Lo got more air.

But nobody ever, ever, did the frog splash better than Eddy Guerrero.

What happened to his partner happened to him, you could think. But Eddy at least got to taste the fruit of his labor. He got to shine. And we all loved him for it.

All I know, is that if heaven exists, Eddy and Owen are making the most devious tag team in wrestling history in the ring and laughing with the angels outside of it.

I guess what I'm saying is I should pick up Cheating Death, Stealing Life.

Because the obvious is sort of hard. Eddy was one more for playing on subtleties.





So, that's where I was.

Orale.

AvB: Friday Barometer

BUSH: The man himself, for using Veteran's Day to blast anti-war critics. If only the Daily Show was on Fridays.

BUSH: This fucking cold. There's no NyQuil in this house, and I can't sit down and get any major work done going snerk snerk snerk ptooie every 12 seconds. I'm so far behind now, and at the end of last week I was well ahead of pace. I had all this week off to do work, and of course I get sick on Monday. Unbegoddamnlievable.

BUSH: The NFL schedule sucks Sunday.

ALBA: Hopefully by the time I get in from work tomorrow there'll be some cold medicine and instead of vegetating in front of the tube Sunday I can try and make up all this ground I lost. I do have some ideas for the next few diary entries, if my head didn't hurt so much.

BUSH: Poker Room's kicked my ass this week--I'm down to like $50k from $70k in the past week.

ALBA: The Beasties have a best of CD out, for everybody who didn't get the Sounds of Science.

BUSH: My off-again on-again Internet access the past 36 hours.

ALBA: Sarah Silverman's Jesus Is Magic, if I can muster up enough to see it tonight. Godless Sudafed.

BUSH: *snerk* *snnnnnnerk* *ptooie*

BUSH: And, of course, down goes the Internet!

BUSH: No Team Steve game because of the holiday--I hope they don't obsess over last week.

BUSH: Found out the hard way Natalie's off today, and got a voicemail about it. They know I tend to pay every other Friday, and that today's a Friday, and a national holiday--why even bother? And didn't I have you fudge packers stop sending me notices?!

BUSH: *snerk* *snnnnnnerk* *ptooie*

BUSH: I'm so bored and incapable of doing anything good I'm thinking of scuttling together a Festivus wish list. Some good stuff coming out--that new Office Space, season 2 of Scrubs...

BUSH: All my fantasy teams suck this year. I think I broke up the Patriots. Next year I'll just save myself the trouble of a season like this and just call myself the Saints.

BUSH: A check that wouldn't cover my bank and cell bill.

ALBA: 30 hours next week. That should stem the bleeding. Plus, Christmas buying presents time.

BUSH: I dread the second job I'm going to have to take for December. Is there any opening in the Playboy Mansion I could fill in on?

BUSH: Why, of course this is going to take 3½ hours to post!

This post brought to you BAH: "Dream On" by Aerosmith

Post-Teenage Fan Club

1. Post a list of your 10 favorite fandoms.
2. Have your friends guess your favorite character from the fandoms in the comments.
3. When guessed, bold the pick, give said friend a point, and post about why you like that character.

1. Scrubs (Rob: Dr. Cox): Less a man than a god. And I say this knowing I look like, and generally act like Faison.
   
2. Jay & Silent Bob Strike Back/Dogma/Chasing Amy/Mallrats/Clerks (Max: Jay): The man quotes N.W.A., smokes weed, hangs out with guys bigger than him, and never shuts up ever. Plus, he got to kiss Shannon Elizabeth. Nooch.
   
3. Fight Club (Dustin: Tyler Durden): No fear. No distractions. The ability to let that which does not matter truly side. And in the midst of a near-crippling depression, a new dating philosophy is born that saves my ass.
   
4. Seinfeld (Rob: George): George is my favorite, obviously, because he suffers the most and still lives with his parents, thus leading him to usually have the best rants and quips on the show as he tries to find a painless suicide. This is where I got "I believe in God for the bad things" from.
   
5. Garden State (Dustin: Andrew): But only because I couldn't bring myself to say I wanted to be Natalie Portman instead of I wanted to do Natalie Portman.
   
6. Office Space (Rob: Michael Bolton): The man introduced the phrase "no-talent assclown" to the lexicon! And "federal-pound-me-in-the-ass prison"! This is the least of what I could do for him.
   
7. Kill Bill v.1 & 2 (Rob: the Bride): She kicked everybody's ass. The End.
   
8. Family Guy (Rob: Stewie): I don't exactly think I'm alone in this. Let's just say I don't have a Meg Can Grow Her Fingernails jacket that everybody loves--I have a Victory Is Mine jacket. God help you guys if I ever memorize that you-are-the-weakest-link-goodbye riff from his drama class.
   
9. Veronica Mars
10. Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Jen: Xander): Jesus, you guys--the one guy with a sarcastic quip for everything who hates living at home who doesn't get any for 3 years while surrounded by hot babes--did you all just meet me or something?
    

Rob 5, Dustin 2, Jen 1, Max 1.

This post is brought to you BAH: "Digging In The Dirt" by Peter Gabriel

Opposites Attractive

Honestly, kids, I don't know what the fuck to tell you. Best I can do, far as I figure, is let you know what happened and let you draw your own conclusions.

To begin with: the game. We're short a couple people, so we have somebody come in. Her name is Jennifer, and she used to play for USD's softball team. But since girls can't pitch, we put her in right. I keed, I keed. I'm borderline in love with her anyway, since she's blonde, ridiculously tall (Aaron said 5'10", I thought closer to 6"), and athletic, with a sense of humor. ANYhow, a couple guys come in right under the wire as is our custom, and we're playing the best team in the league. Before the game I was debating my "they got us beat on paper, but last I checked they don't measure heart on paper" speech I'd heard somewhere, but stowed it.

Some math even I know:

Constant fielding errors
+ best team in the league
__________________
19 -4 curbstomp

For Aaron, the speech I would've given if the team hadn't broken up faster than you can say Destiny's Child: we wanted to know where we are, now we know. We're #2 in the league. They beat us as much as we did. When playoff time comes around and we got a full roster, we'll see how it shakes out then.

When a man is depressed, there's only a handful of things to do.

After suffering through the wiggeriest wigger at Trophy's, Aaron and I go to Hooters. And things get out of control. First off, one of the waitresses looks like one of my bosses. Same hair style, same coloration, same fucking initial for her first name. So lucky she didn't work our table--

"Hi, can I help you guys?"

"Yes, you WAUGHHHHHHHHH!"

She's close to the area, though, and every time she goes by I feel a little weird.

Second of all, our waitress recognizes Aaron. She said she's seen him in before, which she has--back in July, the last time he was in any area Hooters. And he's wearing a hat. And he was sitting with me then, too! What am I, glass?

Thirdly, most importantly, most vexingly--wow, this post has a metric shitload of commas. Anyway, the whole point of a place like Hooters is to let the libido go without consequence or afterthought. You go for breasts and hope you don't find anything in the food. They know, you know, and as a result you can all have a laugh about it and dodge the fact you didn't have enough scratch to go to a strip club and really see something.

You're not supposed to go "Aww!" at Hooters.

Of course, it's what Aaron & I end up doing all night. They had a cute brunette with some blonde streaks in there, and she's tiny. So tiny I just italicized. So tiny, me--ME--looked at her and went "WOW, she is tiny." It's very Lacey Chabert, and we end up ignoring our waitress when she's not taking our orders or bringing our food to look at this waitresses because it's cuter than a 3-legged puppy fresh from the pound. She lifts a stool, it looks like one of those guys on ESPN8 throwing a refrigerator. She takes two orders at once and we're afraid she's going to tip over and fall. I mean, it's hard to muster up the proper lust for somebody when all you want to do is make them some cocoa and give them a playful punch on the chin.

So, anyway, due to his height, Aaron gets a picture with her. Sorry it's blurry.

He leaves, and I ask him an obvious question. He didn't get her name. Dumas. But then I ask him, the fucking monolith, how tall she is.

4'8", he says. Maybe even 4'6".

Good. LORD.

I am suddenly, viciously, violently, in love with her all over again. 4'8", maybe? 4'6"? Is that even legal? It's like I say about Shakira--you gotta love it when a girl's 4'11" and 3'7" of it's ass, you really gotta love it when a girl is 4'7" and 4' of it is rack. And then, because it's how I'm wired I spend the rest of the night in Lewis Blackville. Probably my dreams and tomorrow, too.

And I flip back, and she's playing softball and her hair's down, and then I flip back, and she's so small all you can see is her head and the sneakers, and I flip back and she's throwing a rope to 3rd, and I flip back--she's next to our waitress and she barely comes up to the chestline, and I flip back and it's tall blonde and I flip back and it's short brunette and finally I just threw my hands up and went WHICH ONE DO I WANT TO PLOW FIRST?!

And right before I passed out, I thought 'If it weren't for my horse...'

This post is brought to you BAH: "Blown Wide Open" by Big Wreck

AvB: Friday Barometer

ALBA: Elastica. I miss Elastica.

ALBA: So far, the novel is going good. With the minimum to get to 50k in a month 1,700 I decided to really push for getting down 2k a day, and so far have been able to do it. It hasn't come without struggle, or extreme exhaustion when I'm done most nights, but I'm on my pace which is fairly ahead of the minimum pace. Plus, I am apparently doing well and not just shoveling shit from a standing position. I'm frightened given the fact I have a 3:1 major female character to major male character in the story about writing women (the Nicholson Caveat don't work) but that seems to be going fine so far as well.

BUSH: No idea what I'm going to get down tonight. I'm about halfway through January and the next major thing coming up in my mind is early February.

BUSH: I hate having to stay up to 1 a.m. and trying to write so my mom doesn't interrupt my writing mode. I'd much rather write scene(s) in a single session, because I may write something that'll blossom into something else. And I can't do that with her running in here.

BUSH: My brother's sick, and Mom was sick earlier this week. Hand to Jessica, if these fuckers get me sick during NaNo, I'm going to make Carrie White look like a misunderstood waif. Especially given the fact it looks like I have a winning formula this year.

ALBA: Team Steve plays tonight, in their biggest challenge of the Rosser Era. We're missing some people--a couple suspiciously--but I have intristic faith my coaching abilities will lead us to the prize. I actually have a pregame speech ready, too.

BUSH: $3.something over in my checking account--$33 overage charge. Insert McEnroe soundbite here.

ALBA: The block party went well. People loved the costume.

BUSH: Running into Sophia.

ALBA: She apologized.

ALBA: Deleting her number anyway; crazy don't come out in the wash.

BUSH: Because my mom got sick on Halloween, I had to take care of her and my Grandmother, so I missed hanging out with Aaron and Merilynn. GHM. What other explanation is there? Seriously!

BUSH: Must get Christmas job. Otherwise nobody's going to get Christmas, at least from me.

ALBA: It's really sad I've been putting it off a couple days, but the novel's going real well.

BUSH: All my condolences to Danny on Steph's passing. I'd be there tomorrow if I couldn't work. But you know you have all my support, all my time, and anything else from me you need if I can give it.

R.I.P. Stephanie Lynn Womack
4.9.82 - 11.1.05