Microwave!

I'm so excited. I bought a microwave. My own microwave! An object that cost money that has actual use and neccessity in my life! Something that could possible stay with me FOR THE REST OF MY LIFE! How cool is that? I'm sorry, I was all excited all day. It's like... cool, and stuff, having my own microwave. It's like... buying a... something, I don't know. It's a minor step toward having my own place some day. Some day, ... Some day.

I also bought Shattered Glass on DVD since I couldn't stand thinking about buying it anymore. My head hurts. I'm tired. I was late for work today. Oh no! But it's OK because they were so (sarcastically) happy to see me finally arrived, Ivan exclaimed, "Look! Brad! It's Brad! Brad's here!" in his own sort of way. I could slap him if I wasn't worried about it being considered a hate crime since he's a big fairy an' all. Also I'd get fired, which would be bad. But it would be funny! But, still... bad. Mostly bad. Kinda funny.

I'm reading Catcher in the Rye. Also in my stack is The Collected Stories of Philip K. Dick, Somewhere in Time by Richard Mattheson (sp), and No Way To Treat a First Lady by Christopher Buckley.

Wahh, Angel!

I keep missing Angel since I haven't got a TV. Well, there's a TV here but no way to get anything to come in and it's not really worth the time. But, if anyone who reads this collects the HDTV-LoL-Xvid (or Divx, not sure) television rips of Angel episodes, I'd be willing to send a little bit of money via Paypal if you could burn Origin and Time Bomb and the other last three or four episodes there will be as they air, and snail mail them to me. That would rock! Email Me if you think you could do this. It would be greatly appreciated.

That's All She Wrote:

I'm not sure if it's a sign of insanity or not, but I've begun speaking sort of like everyone already knows what I'm talking about. Well, I've always done that any way in person, but usually about topics like... quantum physics. Or, the proper way to store eggs. But, now... Well... I don't know. Tonight, this dialog occured when I arrived at work at midnight, formatted in AIM convo type for ease of understanding.

Laurel: Why'd he call you in now and not back when we needed you?
Brad: Fuck if I know, so I'd do the walks so he wouldn't have to?
Laurel: Probably, lol
Brad: Yeah it sucked I thought he wasn't gonna call me in, and then Piggy's head got bashed in by some rocks and his brains spilled out and the phone rang and I was like "Fuck!" you know?
Laurel: *confused questioning look*
Brad: Er, uh, Lord of the Flies, I'm reading Lord of the Files.

I'm freaking tired, going to go finish Lord of the Flies and go to sleep. I love all this time to read. It's great. I've never finished a whole book in a day, and Lord of the Flies is by no means a whopper but still, I'm proud of myself. Also, I keep seeing pig heads infested by flies talking to me in menacing tones. Not sure if that's a side effect.

Kill!

If I wasn't such a masochist, I wouldn't be going back to work... like, ever. But since I am, I don't mind so much.

I'm reading an awesome, simply awesome, book. Thank You For Smoking by Christopher Buckley. I had read a different book of his a few years ago called Little Green Men and for all intents and purposes this one is twenty times bettter, at least compared to memory. Simply hilarious shit, if Chris Buckley was any funnier I would probably shit my pants in fear of one with such godly power. Check it out if you can, I've laughed out loud reading it at least three times now, and I never usually do that at all. I'm glad I checked out nearly all the books of his that were at the library.

God as Flawed:

I met the first person today who took active disgust in the concept of our Creator being a flawed, dysfunctional, disillusioned diety. We got into thinking and then thus into religion and she said she'd researched God and shit and I said, "So, know much about the Gnostics?" and it went from there. Unfortunately even though she said, "A little," she knew nothing at all.

She seemed honestly disgusted that I thought the best part of the Gnostic system was the Cosmogony that explains that we're all fucked up because our creator was all fucked up because he was created to account for a big fuck up. Her exact words were, "Does that actually make you feel good, does that give you hope?" What? That I know we're a fucked up creation? Yes, I guess so.

Some people need hope that tomorrow they might wake up and God will rain his holy shower of goodness down to the people. Or hope that in some way all this pain will eventually make sense. Me, personally, I just need to know that the world is as it is for a reason, which is why the Gnostic cosmogony makes so much sense to me. I don't need to think that we're flawed because we're fucked up for no reason, and I don't need to have some false hope that some invisible diety is going to save us all... I just need an explaination... but even then, we don't even deserve that.

Douglas Adams was the only person to ever nail this right on the head. In one of the books in the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy series, he describes God's Final Message to his creation as being on this distant planet inscribed in massive flaming letters on the side of a mountain range (or something like that, it's been a while). What's the message? "We apologize for the inconvenience."

Movie Reviews:

Kill Bill Vol. 2 was better than the first part, but that's not saying much. I'm not sure if I reviewed the first part on here, but although I kind of sort of liked it at first, the more I thought about it the less I liked it. I wasn't even going to see the second part because I cared so little for the first, but I ended up seeing part two on a whim.

It's more talk and less gratiutious uninteresting action this time acround and that, I would say, is actually a good thing. At two hours and fourteen minutes, Volume 2 doesn't feel like it drags at all, which is good, because if it did start to drag I probably would have got up and left.

My main problem with Kill Bill over all is that it's totally pointless. Sure, it's great eye candy, sorta, not really, and the fighting is.. well... it's fighting? Nothing I haven't seen in The Matrix trilogy or any other fighting movies (The Transporter even had more "wow" in it's fights). So, the fighting is pointless, and it's not shot particularly beautifully... and the dialog is pointless since the story is pointless and... well... I guess over all, Kill Bill could have never been made and it wouldn't really matter. Just a big pointless four hour or so blow fest.

(Also, I have to say, had they not added the "epilogue" to Vol 1 that revealed that, well, you know what I'm talking about, then Vol 2 would have had one big redeeming surprise moment... but since they had to go and fucking ruin it for you in the first part, the shock of her finding her... well, nevermind, was completely robbed from you. Fucking retarded).

Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines: I finally saw this and I can't stop raving about it. I wasn't a huge fan of Terminator 2 and sometimes I couldn't understand why people put it on such a pedestal. I mean, yeah, it's a great fucking scifi action flick but it always left a bad taste in my mouth. Not to knock it. But I didn't expect much from Terminator 3... and I didn't get much.

I got half way through it and at that point just about nothing had happen. Sure, a few awesome action sequences but if I reach the half way point of a movie and I'm thinking, "God, I hope something important happens, but I bet it wont," then it's usually not a good sign. But, where you think the movie is just about to take a typical point A to point B save the world plot turn... it totally jams a fist right up your ass. In a good way, though.

I found myself a bit emotionally moved at the end of the movie, due solely to the last five minutes of film. That's saying a lot.

Hellboy: I'm not sure if I reviewed Hellboy on here or not, I assume I did, but just in case I'll give my lasting impressions: If you like Ron Perlman, go see Hellboy, but if you aren't a Ron fanboy, then don't bother since there is nothing here that you haven't seen before in countless other movies. I'm sure if you like the Hellboy comics, too, you'll enjoy it... but personally I feel like I wasted $9.50 of coffee money on two hours of pointless cinema.

So, Uh, Blargh?

Somehow I managed to go from "Hm, I think I might be getting sick," to "Oh god I feel like ass why is this happening?" in ten hours. I felt fine this morning, then I ate some Taco Bell and spent a few hours goofing off in Rollercoaster Tycoon 2, which was mind numbing, and somewhere in between there and then my throat started to hurt and my nose started to run. Now it's the same thing by 10 times as bad. I hope this is the peak because I feel like ass and I have work tomorrow.

I'm still struggling with the idea of getting cable internet access here. Part of me wants it, and then part of me thinks it'd be useless. I kind of like the fact that I am very nearly internet free, and usually I manage to keep myself busy enough to avoid sitting on this dilapidated Mac for too long, but the massively bored part of me keeps saying, "Order it now!" Fortunately, the Cox site does not work very well on this Mac and I can't order it on a whim.

If anything this new found grunge has done for me, it's certainly made me feel older. And I mean older in the, "So, this is life huh? Well gee I guess I better stop fucking around with pointless arguments in my head and start trying to live." So, what do I do? I check out a shit load of books that I probably wont read and sit in bed all day trying to read them. Seven books, one on Lucid Dreaming will be useful, but I can't see myself reading too much of The Nag Hammadi Library although I wish I had the sheer masochistic stamina to force my way through it. I didn't get a single novel which was my downfall. There need to be a library down here that has an online interface akin to... well... Amazon, maybe. Like, "These other people checked out this book AND these books you might also like..." or you could have use submitted reviews or something for all the books in library... and then you could network with similar toothless lifeless library card holders so you could meet new people and... ok maybe not such a good idea. I meant to get Horace Afoot or whatever the fuck that novel was... poop, maybe tomorrow I'll go before work.

I'm fucking out of money too. I gave Bill the rest of the rent and so now I have something like $26 that will need to last me until friday. I could cry. I have two days off in between then and now, wtf am I supposed to do? I need to buy a frickin' microwave and then cut myself off of fast food. Even if I lived off of expensive tv dinners it'd still be cheaper than frickin' Rubio's or Quiznos or Subway or... Sigh.

The length of each blogger post is directly proportional to the level of loneliness being experienced by the writer at the time the post was written. My throat fucking hurts and my nose wont stop running. Maybe I'll jump in the shower for fun. Or die.

Support Your Local Library, You Asshat.

Put down that fucking book your picked up at Borders, yes, that mammoth collection of erotica that you payed way too much for. Yes, you. Put it down and put your ass in your car and find yourself your city library. Get a library card and use one of their nifty computers to find hundreds of books that you might be interested in and check some out. You paid for that library, you should use it. Instead of pouring up to $100 a month into a pile of dead trees that you'll read once and set on a shelf to collect dust, check that same book out from the library you're already barely paying for (you know, the 0.04 cents of tax from your paycheck that actually goes toward public libraries and schools) and, fuck, buy yourself some crystal meth or something with the money you saved, you deserve a reward for not being completely retarded. Just mostly.

I got off work today and decided that the fact that I've lived in southern california my whole life and never really gone to the beach by myself on my own time was wholy pathetic. I drove down Del Mar Heights and made a left, or something, and ended up parking somewhere and walking down into the sand. The plan was to sit in the sand and finish Henry of Atlantic City (which is a good book about a gnostic 6 year old, read it) but the ocean kept calling to me. It said, "Brad, remove your shirt, shoes, and socks. Roll up your pants, and freeze your ass off deep inside me. You know you want it." I can't resist it when any woman, including mother nature, invites me deep inside them. I just had to strip down. It felt refreshing, my scrawny nearly naked white frame parading into the ocean and then retreating in fear only fifteen minutes later. I laid in the sand for a while to sun, debating on whether I should leave or not. I looked up and a beautiful woman's silouette was standing at my feet. I thought, "How picturesque," and then she walked away. I tracked all the sand caked to my body into my car to further make it all my own to slowly destroy as I am destroyed. I drove home shirtless, deviant, my nipples staring hairily at the people who dared to gaze from their window to mine. I showered myself with hot water when I got home, not wanting to ever leave. If it was an emotional moment for me, I'm sure I would have cried. But it wasn't, so I didn't. I did, how ever, think, "Wow this shower is nice, I don't think I ever want to leave." But I did. Then I cried.

As I walked into the convienence store, I said, "Today, I will quit smoking." I picked up some chips and shit to last me through the day and I walked up to the counter and found myself repeating the familiar words against my will, "Uhm.. yeah and can I get a pack of (insert whatever the shit here)?" In my head I said, "Well, fuck." I gave him my money and he asked how old I was. I said, "eighteen... no wait I'm nineteen, jesus." He said, "Oh I thought you were older" and I said "HAHA SUCKER I'M 12 AND YOU'RE GOING DOWN FOR SELL.." OK, so maybe I didn't. Whatever.

I'm not sure if the people at work are starting to wonder if I'm really crazy or if it's just an act. I'm kind of in the same boat myself, I'm not quite sure either. Sometimes I surprised myself with the sheer level in inanity that comes out of my mouth, but then again the brilliance and genius is on par with it as well. I'm waiting for the day where I just say, "Well I'm just going to shit in my mouth until cheesecake comes out of my eyes!" in reply to a normal question like, "How are you doing?" and then we'll all know the truth... but until that day.

I'm Alive.

Although just barely. I haven't anything new for you. Maybe later. Leave some comments, I'm a lonely-sad person.

"Cry, cry, cry," say Brad's tears as they flow freely down his face.

This week is going to kill me.

Yeah.

Fiction:

She gripped his sides uncomfortably with too much force behind her nails. He thought, "Sweet Jesus, it begins," but dare not say it for his intentions would then be all too clear. Instead he said what he knew he should: "It'll be alright," without knowing whether it would be or not. She continued sobbing; her face nestled into the groove between his neck and his shoulder, her tears bridging the separation of her face and his skin. They had just had sex for the first time, which was an objective of his after the conversations they had the third time they met.

The first time they met, he found her on his lunch break, lounging in a chair and staring directly into the sun. He, knowing this was not something people ordinarily do to relax, asked her what was wrong. She just stared at him in a way that seemed as if she was trying to see through his eyes, directly into his soul, and wasn't sure if she couldn't see it or if it didn't exist at all.

The second time, she had walked up to him and asked if he would walk her to her car. He agreed, and they chatted briefly without saying anything. She lit his cigarette, which struck him as significant. She climbed into the driver seat through the passenger side door and stuck her head out.

She said, "You can smoke in the car."

He nodded and got in, and she drove him back to their work midst one of the most awkward silences ever imagined. He couldn't think of anything to say.

The third time, she was visibly depressed. He offered to help her sort out the things in her head. He said he could figure her out and give her all the answers. He was wrong. She told him her hopes, dreams, and failures. She told him how she hated her job. It was uninspiring. She never learned anything new. She wanted something and decided she didn't want it any more. She needed a man in her life. She picks up assholes all the time. He became increasingly confused until he gave her the wrong answer and she walked away. He paced back and forth yelling at his cigarette. He regretted what he began and he wished he could take it all back.

He realized that in these three short meetings, he had fallen in love with her. He needed to have her. The knight in shining armor syndrome had taken over and there was no going back, no matter how hard he tried to fight it. She had problems and he needed desperately to fix them. She was broken and he was egotistical enough to think he was the repair manual.

The fourth time, he said, "I probably shouldn't be asking this, but I can't help it. Would you like to do something after we get off? Dinner? A movie, maybe?"

She stared at him with the same face from their first meeting. This time, though, something had changed. It was a look of mischievous that passed across the flesh of her face for a brief second and he suddenly wished he could take back that entire series of words and leave himself with the painful ache of fantasy unfulfilled.

She said, "Yeah, sure."

This is how they ended back up at her place, post-coital, sobbing, regretting all over again. He had no answers, and she had no questions. This was where it began.

Very Clever:

Some how someone managed to log on to my Amazon account and order me $300 worth of crap from my wishlist. Luckily, my credit card information, which was correct, error'd with them and they sent me an email. This is very strange. EB hasn't been updated because the FTP was down so the two entries below are old but new. Enjoy.

Hmm...

Forgot that the entry below never got published. Been busy with work, days bleeding together, forgetting unimportant events.

So nice to see you:

I just don't know. I happened across this blog titled "She..." and it intrigues me. It's obvious that it's just another site with some poor guy lusting for some girl who will probably never come around, but it's not the usual banter. Sure, it's only one entry and it if ventures past that I will be surprised, but it's intriguing. It's odd how it's kind of cute and funny when a guy writes about some girl, but it's just downright sad when a girl writes about some guy she'll never have. I've known a few girls who did that and each time it was more about hanging your head and shaking it in saddened disbelief than it was about laughing at the level of pathetic hanging over the whole ordeal. I've been there. Denial is a strong beast, once it's teeth are firmly implanted in your muscle it's difficult to pry off.

I've been making good progress in Morrowind. Well, except last night in which I apparently just wandered across the land aimlessly for no fucking reason. I never thought I would look back on a session of gaming and feel like I accomplished absolutely nothing with the same level of disappointment in myself that I would have if I did the same thing in real life. I've taken to telling Bill, whether he cares or not, of my experiences and travels in Morrowind as if I am experiencing them in real life first hand. He might be actually worried about it since he said he had no problem with it as long as I can distinguish the game from reality. I said I was happy I had an enchanted axe now since I can kill ghosts.

I think I am out of things to say, now.

Downtime (With: Craptastic Fables of Disaster! Or Something).

I don't know why EB was down for a while. I was surprised it came back up. Oh well! My two days off were fairly unexciting, much like today. I spent most of today beating/finishing up Deus Ex: Invisible War on my computer which was a... well... uhm... a fairly enjoyable experiencing? Very disappointing actually, since the getting to the end was more satisfying than the ending itself. I guess I'm just spoiled by good movies where the getting to the end and the end itself are both satisfying. I even took the time to see two different endings and both were very... meh. Kind of disappointing. Fun game, bad endings. Please, people, don't take Knight of the Old Republic for granted. There was a game with a good "getting there" and a good "ending" regardless of which side you chose.

I realized, after beating DE2 and not having much else to do, there was a mall that I had yet to explore just down the street begging me to spend money at. Sadly the mall was kind of pathetic and I couldn't find anything to spend money on, until I found myself inside Electronics Boutique with an old EBEdge card with some money from many moons ago still on it. I bought the Morrowind: Game of the Year Edition because I played it a lot on Xbox and never beat it, and wanted to play the expansions. So far in comparison to Deus Ex 2 Morrowind is severely lacking in two very important categories: Beauty, and Fun. I'm not sure how I sat in front of my Xbox playing Morrowind for hours on end (maybe I had no brains back then?) but good god I feel like my head is going to melt. I'm just probably in shock from the drastic change from a smooth fast-paced first person shooter to a slow moving clumbsy absolutely-physicsless first person RPG, but this is going to take a lot of getting used to. Also if I could set the onscreen font to something like "Tahoma" instead of "blurry and nearly impossible to read in high resolutions stylish script" I would be eternally grateful. I'm defragging my hard drive too right now while I type this just so I can see if it can cut down on the dramatic loading pauses while moving across the land. Also, mark me down for one hard crash.

I borrowed the Terminator 3 DVD from Greg yesterday so I could hopefully watch it on my computer. I didn't realize that I hadn't ever installed PowerDVD or any sort of DVD software at all on my computer. Brad is a sad panda.

Mental Notes: Take library books back to Escondido tomorrow. Find Chula Vista Public Library. Don't blow brains out. Play Morrowind repeatedly in hopelessly masochistic cycle of pain. I smell like poop. Quit smoking. I hear eating alone damages your kidneys. And that's bad!

Today == Hell.

Today was a hellish day at work. Within ten minutes of walking in the door I was bit by dog for my first time. This little bastard who was totally cool yesterday decided to, out of nowhere, lunge at my fingers while I was putting a leash on him, catching my index and middle finger right at the knuckle and carving two crevices, one in each, all the way down to the nail. The rush of adrenaline most people get that causes them to pass out didn't happen to me, I just said, "Well fuck," since I knew they'd probably send me the hospital. I immediately walked over to Rich, the supervisor who is cool as all hell, and showed him my bleeding fingers and told him I got bit. He had me scrub them down with betadine and asked me if I was going to passout and if I think I needed to go the hospital. Although I would be paid to go to the hospital I didn't really want to leave so I just wrapped them up and went to the task of building some new chairs for Dr. Basher and the Ultrasound room.

They don't hurt any more, but the rest of the day only went uphill from there which is to say it went further downhill faster than any other day I've worked. I didn't get my lunch until half an hour before I was off because we were so slammed. I got ridiculed by Dr. Ritcher which really upsets me for whatever reason. Laurel is beginning to hate the job so I fear that she wont stick it out, and if she quits I'm gonna be so sad because she's the only tech who acts like an assistant, which means that she's really nice and actually does work/treatments. Also the pain from not eating all day stuck with me even after I warfed down two tacos. (God bless Ivan for Taco Tuesdays).

Bitch, Bitch, Bitch. I still love my job though and I can't figure out why. This week went by so fast I can't distinguish what happened on which day, so in memory nothing was particularly painful. I'm going to go wash my hands and change my finger bandages to ones that don't smell like dog crap, dog hair, and taco bell mild sauce.

Movie Recommendations:

Maren asked for three rental recommendations in the commets. I have to open this by saying that if you can actually go and watch a movie, go and see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and you probably wont be disappointed. (Maybe even Dawn of the Dead) As far as rentals, I'm not sure of what you can rent or not, but if you can find it for rent or in theaters, check out Mystic River since the Oscars it won for best actor and best supporting were the most deserved oscars in a long time. Other specific rental recommendations can be, and in some sort of order: Donnie Darko, (Everyone needs to see this movie); Punch-Drunk Love/Magnolia/Boogie Nights (If you wanna make it a P.T. Anderson weekend); The Boondock Saints (for some stylish comedy action); 21 Grams (if you want to torture yourself with sorrow); Lost In Translation, (Just so you can be cool and say you saw it); Rushmore, (If you saw Lost In Translation and want to watch a Oscar worthy Bill Murray performance); The Big Lebowski, (If you haven't seen it before for some reason, it really is a masterpiece); North by Northwest, (For some excellent Hitchcockian suspense, if you've never seen this it's a must to rent); The Rules of Attraction, (If you're into laughing at morbidly fucked up situations); Confessions of a Dangerous Mind, (Awesome awesome movie); and, uhm... Phonebooth, (If you avoided it when it was in theaters. It's total popcorn but it's good to watch.. try to watch it for free if you can since it IS low in substance but it makes for a satisfying low-cal viewing).

If you're looking for obscure masterful works of film, or at just feeling adventurous and seen everything above, try out Limbo (1999 with Mary Elizabeth-Mastrentonio and David Straitharin), Dead Man (Johnny Depp!) or even Return of the Seacaucus 7.

21 Grams:

I finally watched this movie last night after having it on my computer for a good two months or so. I want to say it was excellent, but the more I think about it the less I like it. This movie suffers from something I've never felt before... an inability to sympathize with any of the characters.

You have Sean Penn, dying of heart failure, but once he gets a transplant he turns into a total asshole and leaves his girlfriend who loves him very much to go chase after the widow of the man who gave him his heart. Then you have Naomi Watts who looks nearly grotesque the entire movie, drugged out and fucked up in the head after losing her husband and her two children, after missing the chance to put away the man who took them all away from her, she decides that she must kill him in one of her coked out states. And then there's Benico Del Torro who appears completely likable until the Jesus-Freak outweighs the nice-guy-trying-to-make-it and turns into a disgusting schizophrenic sleeze ball.

It's a good movie, yes, but there isn't anyone worth watching in it. There's no heroes, there's not even any moderately likeable losers. It's just a movie about three retarded dumbasses all fumbling toward each other. Best part of the movie is just waiting to find out what happened... and that's still just waiting.

Da Da Da...

I feel that I should write something but I don't know what. Like writing something is declaring to the world that I'm not dead yet, nope you have not yet killed me. I refuse to perish at this point just to be stubborn, perhaps even telling those who can be proclaimed as higher powers, "Bring it on, I got lots left for ya," which is comical and trite from any outside perspective.

I realized that starting with this job, I stopped telling people that I've lived a "hard life" or that "my life blows ass" or anything of the life. When telling people my miniscule life story, I prefix it with "I've lived an interesting/exciting life so far..." I think it's the realization that there really isn't anything that could happen to me at this point that could be that bad. Every time I think, "Wow, this is going to totally kill me," I've been fine, to a point where it's almost expected of me from people I don't even know. "Oh, that Brad, he can do anything." Also it helps to have a good grasp of that fact of what bad really is. Not that I think it's really possible of have a grasp of bad, or even a good idea, it's just knowing that no matter how bad off you think you are, there are at least a billion people on the planet who have it, or will have it, much worse than you ever could even imagine living through. There are still countries on this wonderful planet we call Earth that have average life expectancies below 50 years old, maybe even below that, due to lack of food or medicine. Now, that blows, depending on how much you value your time on your planet. Let's not even get into how pissed on the homeless here in America are.

My life hasn't been hard at all... but it certainly has been interesting.

I finally found someone else today who actually recited the same words I try to tell everyone I meet who complains about their life. "It will get better, but only after it gets worse." Debbie, a fifty or so year old receptionist at work, and I were sitting and talking it eventually came out and I explained, "I try to tell everyone that," and she said, "Oh you should, and they should believe you, because it's true. It's just one of those life's rules, it will always get worse before it gets better, even when you get to my age." Not exactly the words of encouragement I might have been looking for if I had been looking for it, yes, but truer words have never been spoken.

Wheee...

The feeling of wanting to get the hell out of work even though you don't have any exciting to do elsewhere is very perculiar. Sure, even before now I hadn't much reason outside of running to my computer and downloading music and talking to people I barely know, but now there's even less. It's like, "Woohoo! I get to go home and... uh... well... try to not think for four hours until I go to sleep. Fuck, this sucks." Browsing the internet is so slow as to make it pointless to try to read the news. Argh. All I need is a cable modem and I can attain pure happiness. Why doesn't the End button on MacOS9 automaticly zap you to the end of a sentence? That's lame.

Roughing It:

Ok, so I'm not quite roughing it or anything. I'm staying at a house Bill Murray from work rents in Chula Vista, which, for Whitterites, is like where Whittier will be in 20 years when the majority of old white people have died off and East LA has migrated further south. It's not too bad. The house only partially resembles the Paper Street house from Fight Club. No real internet access outside his Mac and modem. It takes a few seconds for the words I type to appear on the screen. It's not too bad. Dan, if you still want to move back down here with me, leave a comment and I'll give you my cell number so you can call me whenever.

Exciting Day:

I'm in Mira Mesa currently staying with a friend from work. Not much to say about how I got here, but I will say I'll never understand the escalation to physical violence. Physical violence is like an exclaimation point on a sentence that doesn't need one. Oh well. I dunno how soon it'll be before I get regular internet access but I'll update at my usual pace regardless, I'm sure.