Google Or Die

9:58am- Inability of other people to Google for themselves instead of emailing me to ask “what’s the address/phone number/PH balance of so-and-so” causes brain hemorrhage.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Watch Where You Sit

10:07am- First documented case of strep throat of the vulva from sitting on uncovered toilet seat after watching Myth Busters episode where they tested germs on various surfaces in the house and found toilet seats to actually be cleanest by far. Guess you can’t believe everything you see on TV.

1:02pm- Walking back to work, stomach seizes with gas cramps (which has been happening daily since starting this new assignment due to the fact that the bathroom is never, ever, EVER empty). Stop in at local Starbucks and create my own ass frappacino. Infected with non-spinach-based e. coli.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Shitty Way To Die

8:32am- Usually when I wait for the bus in the morning several pass me by that I don’t want. I used to take a step back to indicate I wasn’t interested in their services. Today I want to test theory to see just how little effort I have to put in to keep them from stopping. I try looking aloof and buses pass by without even slowing down. It is unsettling. Seriously. Like Bruce Willis in “Sixth Sense.”

8:55am- Walking down Howard, see massive crane on construction site lifting three port-a-potties at once high above my head. Before I can register the possibilities, potties drop, crushing me and spilling poop all over my innocent form.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Much Shorter And Deadlier In Person

3:32pm- Hear that Ben and Jerry Stiller (not to be confused with Ben & Jerry ice cream) movie is being filmed nearby. Stand by tree which I believe to be in "safe zone." After yelling 'rolling,' a best boy annoyidly waves me out of frame. Embarrassed, but determined to see Ben, I push in front of the two women standing near me saying, “excuse me, I’m trying to watch the shot.” They look at each other and then back at me. One woman says, “um, yeah, we’re in the film,” at which point Ben comes raging down the street and gives it to me Dodgeball style.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Why I Hate Folsom Street

12:12pm- Walk through streets during Folsom Street festival. Gay men clad in leather buttless chaps or nothing at all. Sweaty, stinky, hairy men. I can’t begrudge them since it's entirely their scene and I paid money to be here. One nipple-clamped man accidentally knocks into me full on with furry matted chest hair to my cheek. I faint, swoon and fall headfirst into shallow pool of beer, rainwater and urine. Drown.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Love Fest ‘Til Death Do Us Part

5:09pm- Attend Love Fest with its scant costumes, slick dance moves, and pumping bass. The DJ float I choose to dance in front of has the sickest, baddest, bassiest speaker systems. I become victim of the brown note.

11:21pm- Way past tolerance, decide to partake of friend’s special Love Fest brownies. Unbeknownst to me, they are laced not only with pot but with Ecstasy. Last time I took Ecstasy it caused a minor coronary. This time it is major. Kids, don’t do drugs.

11;44pm- Scarf North Beach pizza with vengeance, careful to separate cheese from crust in order to stick to half-assed attempts at Adkin’s diet. While trying to cram oversized bolus of sun-dried tomato, garlic, pepperoni and basil-speckled cheese down throat, choke. Unable to expel.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Chew On This

5:03pm- On way home from work walk passed woman wearing the checked pants and white coat typical of a chef in training. Woman is so obese, am accidentally engulfed into the folds of her pannus, where I promptly suffocate. My dying words of wisdom to her were this: Judging solely from your girth, perhaps a career in the culinary arts is one to be avoided.

5:24pm- I hate the bus. And I hate all who ride the bus. Due to new job, I now get one midway through route, so there are no seats and people are pushy and usually smell unclean. Today as I stand before an older woman shielding her eyes from the sun, I realize I have the power to block the rays for her with my shadow. Imperialistic feelings of power surge through me. I benevolently block the sun until she feels confident enough to take her hand away from her eyes and then I quickly lean to the right exposing her vulnerable corneas to the incandescent light. My reign is short-lived. Soon the townspeople of Busville revolt and I am decapitated, my head displayed on a spiked pole for all to see and pelt.

7:33pm- Boyfriend kindly picks up Thai food for dinner. As I dine on flavorful chicken satay, come across chewy, uncooked and highly offensive piece of poultry. Salmonella sets in quickly.

8:06pm- After all my obsession and pining for Crocodile Hunter, laugh at joke Norm MacDonald makes about his death on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart. The spirit of Steve Irwin abducts me. Am banished to pit of hellfire.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Take THAT, Other Ad Bands!

8:44am- Am menaced by trucks as I drive in to work. They flank me on the highway and then all at once merge in towards me. I pop like a freshly burst zit.

10:03am- Sit across from guy in meeting who looks like an old friend of mine whom I miss. As I think back wistfully to all the good times we had, the doppelganger turns his head towards me like Large Marge in Pee Wee’s Big Adventure. Terrified beyond measure.

12:33pm- Gag on Tandoori chicken grizzle. Seriously, I hate that! It’s like Russian roulette even eating that shit.

3:41pm- Am mandatorily invited to attend two-hour long brand/advertising guidelines discussion for major financial investment firm. Halfway through, stop breathing. Sweet release.

4:12pm- Pass poster in hallway featuring Cindy Crawford. She is asking me to help her in the fight against blood cancer. BLOOD cancer? Holy shit, people can get that? Oops, guess so.

9:43pm- Stepping out to play a show, wear new Isaac Mizrahi boots from Target. So excited to find boots to fit fat calves, bought two pair: one black, one brown. Already, by the beginning of our set, feel as though I am standing with feet between dual vice-grips—a maniacal sadist working the cranks. The cranks turn and turn until my bones are crushed sending calcium-fortified shrapnel through bloodstream.

11:57pm- What is up with these mother fucking trucks? On way home from winning Point Roll’s highly esteemed 1st Annual Battle of the Advertising Bands competition (staged at Great American Music Hall no less—where I have seen great bands such as The Ravonettes, The White Stripes and Max Weinberg and the Weinberg 7, the last one being a lie), am again flanked by trucks. Trying to merge onto 101-S, get caught between four of the 18 wheels of an 18-wheeler.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Clown In The Potty

8:12am- After deciding to resume some semblance of exercise routine, step out into the world eager for walk to the bus stop. Searing pain shoots through toe and up leg. Apparently after last night’s brisk 3-mile walk, I severed a tendon or something. I drop to ground writhing in pain and am hit by car speeding down Campbell Street. So much for a healthy lifestyle.

10:49am- Walk into work bathroom and am startled to find myself standing face to face with a bona fide clown. Not sure if this is some sort of corporate motivational experiment, I honk her big, red plastic nose. She then gives me the world’s longest swirlie until I stop the struggle.

12:34pm- Sitting in atrium of the Rincon Center finishing off the delicious shewerma platter that I pretty much get every day now from Arabi. An explosive sound erupts above the food court chatter. The ground shakes violently. Turns out that while an employee was trying to push it back to wherever it lives, a leg from the noon-time piano fell off and said piano has smashed to the ground. Too late for me, however. Convinced of a terrorist attack, I am blown to bits. My image and likeness is then used by GOP to sweep November elections.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Crane Drops Falling On My Head

8:44am- Walking to work, giant crane swings swiftly above head. Construction worker operating controls chooses this time to end his life in order to provide family with money from insurance policy. I have the misfortune of being caught beneath his heft after plummet.

5:02pm- Walk beneath a window washing apparatus empty and only two stories above my head. Pulley system fails. Crushed, but remain alive until workers come to extract me. Then I bleed out.

5:31pm- Rampant bus germs on my hand. That’s all I’ve gotta say.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Filth Frenzy

8:57am- On walk to work am confronted by fresh bum poop clinging halfway up links of a now-befouled fence. Airborne contaminants seek refuge in my nostrils before defeating my immune system.

12:33pm- Am directed to lunch spot named Julie’s Kitchen for a more upscale buffet option. Load up on meats. Choke on deadly combination of dry sliced turkey breast and pea shoots. Thos shoots get me every time.

3:33pm- Shoot self in head due to monotony of day job.

5:32pm- Riding 9BX home from work. Spot child with soil of some brown sort covering nose and mouth. Convinced, in addition to being disgusting to look at, it must be infectious. It is.

5:35pm- Still on bus. Woman next to me is holding her requisite pink plastic grocery bag, compliments of some Chinatown vendor. The bag twitches and rattles. I hear chirps and tweets and then a rustling of feathers. Bird flu, anyone?

Other than that, pretty good day.

Put A Cap In It

9:46pm- Play show at 23 Club in Brisbane. Halfway through 2nd song, cops bust through saloon doors. I hit the deck, afraid they’ll start shooting up the place. Confused by my reaction, they start shooting up the place.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Out Of Breath

11:13am- Committed to exercising more often. Take hike up Coit Tower with boyfriend. Near top, chest explodes.

1:55pm- Invited to big island of Hawai’i by old college friend currently living there. Having just read “Krakatoa” and being really into plate tectonics, I jump at the chance. Before I can even check into flight costs, freak volcanic eruption occurs right here in San Francisco where North American plate and Pacific plate are converging, even though the subduction zone is more volatile and prone to eruptions up in Northwest near Mt. Saint Helen, Mt. Hood, Mt. Rainier, Mt. Baker, Mt. Adams and Lassen Peak. Go figure.

11:58pm- As I drift off to bed reading guidebook for April trip to Egypt, I glance down at all the strange blue veins just beneath my skin. I flick one with my finger and like a sprung coil, they all unravel and burst from my body.

Other than that, pretty good day.

A Killer Personality

9:09am- Read how doctors have discovered a Type D personality. Type Ds are more prone to cardiac events. Peruse list of Type D traits and mentally tick off every one before having my own event.

5:14pm- Take crowded 9AX bus home. Woman next to me stands with her moist nostrils dangerously close to my hand. She huffs and snorts like a horse, forcibly embedding bacteria into my skin. I fail to get home quick enough to wash it away.

7:08pm- Pressure in back of throat signals advanced stage throat cancer. I eschew indignity of stoma for quick death.

Other than that, pretty good day.

Peek-A-Boom

6:06pm- Get off bus after work and walk past a man I can see with a glance is filled with evil. He attempts to talk to me. My reply, “We have no business to speak of,” is met with a hearty laugh. I look down and he is holding my still-beating heart in his gore-splattered mitt.

9:22pm- Pull out of driveway at practice studio. Parked SUV blocks view and car behind me has brights on just to be a jackass. Inch out to see if coast is clear. It decidedly is not. Am rammed into by a honking, but not slowing semi. Disintegrate upon impact.

Other than that, pretty good day.

R.I.P. Steve Irwin

10:11am- Hear about death of Steve Irwin. Shocked to death.

1:02pm- Obsessed with the death of Steve Irwin. Imagine myself being lanced by stingray. Have fatal psychosomatic reaction.

4:56pm- Still can’t stop thinking about Steve Irwin. Mind swims in continuous loop. I think about the moment of death. I think about his daughter being told. I can’t stop obsessing. Not even to eat or drink.

11:34pm- Startle myself awake and remember about Steve Irwin. Look to my right and see stingray floating up from underneath bed. Zap!

Other than that, pretty good day.

Labor To The Death

3:49pm- Invite lovely friends over for celebratory Labor Day picnic. Good times and salmonella are rampant.

9:06pm- Watch the movie “Dead Man” and suddenly there is an opportunity for Jim Jarmusch to do a sequel.

Other than that, pretty good day.