so i have 33 pages. counting four pages of bibliography. i deserve a break. but i don’t want a kit kat bar, i want ten trillion smiggarettes and a diet coke NOW! RIGHT THE FUCK NOW!
i have to go to the maroon office at dentist time. I have work at the coffee shop tomorrow. then i have GYM CLASS on tuesday morning. then work again. then gym. then nothing on the friday. and i guess i have one class left to take too. on tuesday. ONE CLASS. of writing arts reviews.
in tribute to kevin spacey, things i have also gotten over in the past ten years/minutes
::: VIDEO GAME SOCCER
It is not fun to watch someone play video game soccer. It is more fun to play video game soccer. But I have been exposed to far, far too much video game soccer in the past week. I shall be released? I am watching video game soccer rightnow, at least hearing it and seeing it and trying not to watch it. I don’t feel released.
::: THE INTERNET
I don’t know, it’s been around for awhile.
::: MATH
My dad was an upright member of society, and continues in his uprightness, without ever learning anymath past algebra. i am not a scientist nor do i plan to be a scientist. the cold war is over. we’re not going to fall behind the soviets. let them take the nerds out of their cribs and put them into special schools. they will learn the math. i will learn the math no more forever.
::: BEER
i might actually still like beer.
::: WHITE PEOPLE
i don’t like where this list is going, but yeah, i’m tired of the white people. in 50 years we’ll all look like VIN DIESEL and I WILL BE LOVING IT/ALREADY DEAD AND BURIED.
::: REPUBLICANS
somebody more glib than i once said that anyone who is a republican in their twenties doesn’t have a heart, and anyone who’s a democrat in their fifties doesn’t have a brain. i hate math.
::: THE DUTCH
Your language is retarded.
as sort of a postscript to last night’s post:
there was a very cute cat sitting on me while i wrote and rubbing her head on my glasses.
also, my theory about not actually wanting to write anything has been borne out by the fact that i am sitting in the writing command center but no writing is happening. maybe if i stopped doing stupid shit like this.
i think i talked more today than i have in the entire last week. and i don’t think i talked all that much today. i just didn’t talk much in the past week. i did write a lot today, or least wrote down a lot. i don’t think the stuff i got down today was terribly important. it was really another 5-7 pages of what’s turning into a glorified book report. i realized that i really like my BA and i’d be happy doing lots more research on it. that might just be a fruity way of saying i don’t feel like writing it just yet. yes, yes, the refs are conferring aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand it’s over, he doesn’t want to write it. a real shocker here in albany.
well, i’m a softie today. i think it was because i got to talk about my romantic status at a smoky bar, which made me think that i and my friends are awesome, although i probably didn’t have anything substantial or illuminative to say. but i felt like a grown-up, so that was nice.
wiry cat appears to be ok but i’m not taking down the elevated alert sign until i have documented 100% cessation of weird alien growling noises, which have continued at a low level.
musical interlude [ahem]
For you were my first love
And now it looks like you’ve gone
And I have waited too long
ah, i am a cornball. that’s just one of my seventeen dirty secrets, including but not limited to:
1. i’m a jerk
2. i’m a devout jehovah’s witness
3. i like porn A LOT
4. i knit in my spare time
5. i piss in the sink
6. obsessed with half-black girls
7. actually the nicest person in the world
8. occassionally make up lists of fake characteristics
9. love small children
10. can’t keep me off the telephone
you get all these and more when you buy the ptb internet treasure chest A TWO MONTHS SUPPLY ONLY $19.99
is this normal?
when you put something on the internet, it never goes away. never. your body makes a promise.
This is what happens when people let me think about politics for too long. I get self-righteous. Of course, none of you realize what I’m getting self-righteous about since I’m just thinking that part to myself. Never mind. Serves me right. This is getting cryptic. Everybody just skip to the next part about os gatos.
Mama/Wiry Cat, for those of you who have met os gatos da montanha magica, is currently mired in what veterinary scientists call the estrus cycle, which is typified by rolling around on the floor, two- to five-minute outbursts of creepy dog-bark-volume yowling, attempts to rub her junk on animate and inanimate residents of the montanha, weird low-volume alien growl noises that must be filthy come-ons, and also following me around in an attempt to seduce/beg/persuade/surreptitiously rub junk on my feet. She has been like this for an entire week if she’s still at it at the end of today. And she looks miserable. She’ll be spayed on April 1, if I do not sell her to the Salonica before then. And Baby Cat/LeBron/Theo Epstein/Ludacris/Quekwafolus/Tennessee, as the smaller of the two cats is known, has taken the temporary dementia of her mother as an opportunity to undertake great deeds of mischief at all hours of the day, including finding a dirty Q-tip, (in the bathroom trash presumably) and bringing it INTO MY BED as a gift, so that when i woke up this morning, there was an adorable kitten licking a cotton swab covered in ancient ear wax and dirt next to my face. That’s terrible. Just terrible. This is intolerable. Wiry Cat was sitting in a moment of relative tranquility on the couch across the room and I just looked at her for a second and said “Hi Wires” and she immediately ran over her, rubbed her head on my diet coke and is now sitting on me as i type. Let’s have her say something.
Wiry Cat: kl12 [non-translatable space growling]r
That’s it. She typed four or five hard returns but I took those out for readability.
THINGS I THOUGHT ABOUT WHILE FINDING THE TRANSLATION OF “MOUNTAIN” INTO P-GUESE
Has anyone at Altavista been notified that the option to search U.S.-Only Webpages is vaguely creepy? Is that something that came before the recent, apparently never-ending batch of wars on dirty brown people the world over? I mean, I always thought that the worldwide web was, you know, worldwide. Then again, I’m not terribly upset that the name Internet won out over WWW, which is rivaled in gayness only by the Information Superhighway. The whole adding “Super-” to something is really dumb. I feel vaguely violated by the fact that “market” is hardly used anymore. When someone says market, I think donkeys and a guy hawking weird local fruits. Supermarket indeed. Pshaw. Anyway, Altavista, your button is creepy. Maybe if your buttons weren’t so creepy people would look at your webpage for something other than dumb translations. I like Google more than you. Everybody does. Malignant this.
I didn’t go downtown today on my BA. But I definitely came out of the exurbs, where I had been in hiding in a one-story ranch home with the mailbox out by the road, where i had been emerging only for porn and snacks. I came out of those exurbs in a bulldozer full of big ideas and drove that dozer throught the outerring suburbs to the airport post office, where i got some those ideas down on paper. right now i am getting back in the bulldozer and getting on I-71 north, headed straight for motherfucking downtown cleveland. i’ve always lived near the airport post office, i think, but three weeks of inactivity had pushed me back to the exurbs. anyway, the moral of this story is that driving bulldozers on the freeway may not be easy but it is fun, and i look forward to this. however, i may backtrack a bit and head to the perkins right of the middleburgh hts exit to get some lunch.
a fucking bulldozer, i’m telling you. today could be big. or it could be another false start. i’m thinking about this too much. i;m hitting the showers before i get back in the saddle.
title of junk e-mail received this morning:
Iraqi peasant crashed an Apache with a rifle when he saw US Navi soldiers fking his mule
i’m not into donkey-fucking. i don’t presume to judge those who are. but i will say this: if i was into donkey-fucking (or mule fucking, rather) i’d probably do it in the privacy of my home or barn, not in the middle of the burgeoning war in iraq.
more points:
– does the “US Navi” have soldiers, and are they put into a position to fuck mules regularly?
– does the e-mail mean Apache helicopter or Apache Indian? one’s a lot funnier than the other.
– i’m unclear on the cause/effect relationship of the shooting and the mule-fucking. was he confused by the fucking? did he not want the mule fucked? or did he just want to fuck the mule himself? why was the Navi in iraq fucking this guy’s mule?
– THERE ARE SO MANY QUESTIONS.
speaking of war–
a couple things.
1. it’s not gotten any less fucked up since last week.
2. if you are anti-bush and thus anti-war, you should be spending your time volunteering/canvassing/doing something towards the election of non-GOP policymakers at the national level. that’s all you can do. no president has ever resigned because college kids didn’t like him. however, many presidents have left office after being voted out.
3. if you are anti-war and thus anti-bush, continue your marches.
4. if you are pro-war and thus pro-bush, consider planning a rally to demonstrate your support of the war, without being reactionary or being anti-anti-war, as moacir says. and steer clear of all rhetoric that claims that those who oppose the war/the presidency “hate this country.”
5. if you are pro-bush and thus pro-war, i don’t know, chewbacca. have a cocktail party to celebrate how great america is or something.
that’s all the bile i have in me. i think.
from the roundtable TV newsroom:
i am watching the oscars. i’m not all that excited about this anymore, except for adrien brody, who is from queens. woo woo woo, this is dumb. and nicole kidman is doing less with more than anybody since nicole kidman.
pootie too good
q: do you know what forever means?
a: it’s nine a.m. on the first day of spring break. for today, we’ll finish cleaning the back half of the apartment, get started on the front half, watch hoops, go to the grocery store, and read some newspapers from north dakota per the requests of my handlers. yesterday’s games were good. my throat always hurts when i wake up these days. obviously i should quit smoking. doot doot, denenenenenene. call 667-XXXX if you recognize today’s magik mountain throwback hit from that snippet.
so i’m writing my ba this week.
final verdict on the baked cooler ranch doritos is an acquittal of some sort, although i’m not sure who the defendant was, me or the chips.
the grocery store has the following things that i need:
name brand diet soda
some chips
variety of soups
bread
materiel du burrito
the internet
uh reality is folding in on itself
scratch that call to arms on the fleece/subaru keys. i pulled a jake raden and won the day, by which i mean i found a credit card receipt in the pocket, PHed the name, and e-mailed them. GOD DAMN I AM CLEVER. except jake did that first and he actually tracked someone down who owed him like the GDP of madagascar, whereas i am just returning something to its owner. except that i haven’t succeeded in my mission yet and it is like half a week since the original loss so they probably got new keys or something. woo woo woo.
NC State! DONE! SHIT! this does not bode well.
