I couldn’t resist this title for a post, despite the fact it will mean nothing to almost everyone. Before dinner last night, I taught Jessica how to do the “Fuck, yeah!” sign that Ryan taught me, but she one-upped it as we ate, pointing to something she was eating with both hands as if she were flashing gang signs, doubling me over in hysterics and then she started and then our dinner companions were laughing, unsure why, as we cackled through the rest of the meal.
But then I truly made myself sick on the phone with Lesley at midnight as she tried to pick songs for her myspace page and was debating a Yaz song. To which I said she should change her profile so every part of it referred back to Yaz; examples:
About me: I heart Yaz.
Hobbies: All Yaz all the time.
Favorite Books: Anything written on the Web about Yaz.
Heroes: Vince Clarke and Alison Moyet.
Favorite Movies: A Brief History of Yaz and Yazoo.
But then she just pretended to be greeting all of the page viewers with saying “Hey there, Yaz fans…” and between the wine I’d had and my delirious state, I wheezed like an old man on the steps to my apartment.
God, I’m easy.
Obelus Projects 
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