> Covenant - Rising Son
> Orgy - Dissention
> Elastica - Smile
> Queens of the Stone Age - If Only
> Velvet Acid Christ - Slut
Today sucks. Those lame people at the medical center didn’t send my test off until a day later, so now I don’t get paid for today, and I miss out on a day of training. Penis face. On the bright side though, Mike Ovick installed a burner on the computer in the Drift Office. I’m going to go in there early tomorrow and start burning all the old issues onto CD-ROMs. Oh, and on the even brighter side, it looks like the Lethargy Club is going camping this weekend! Yay! I think my dad is leaving this weekend, so that will negatively impact the number of sleeping bags I’ll be able to produce. I wish I wouldn’t have returned the tent, but I needed cash that day. Hm. And I can’t buy it again with my first paycheck, becuase I have to pay that damn DMV fee along with my insurance. Lame. Hella-lame. But I remember Sammie saying something about having a big tent. Hmm. Joe might be coming–I’m very ambivalent about that. On the one hand he could do a Taggart and not be able to tolerate not being the center of attention, or he could be witty and fun. I guess I’d just have to wait and see, I don’t know him well enough.
Let’s see–what did I do today. I actually had fun with Amy, which was weird. Oh, she said the funniest thing a few days ago. This requires some explanation: she was fired from the Triplicate for no-call no-shows. She said the reason she stopped returning Mike Shmeltzer (the editor)’s calls was that he kept saying that she should leave Crescent City if she wanted to be in the field of journalism. REALLY. That is abysmally loony. I guess I’ll treat this as an admonitory lesson. I’m going to summon all the alacrity I can muster. Hm. Not much else happened today, talked to my mom for a while. She said that Grandma showed some asperity when she went down to feed the dog and found a dead rat in the dog food bag. Nobody knows how it got there. My mother hopes to ameliorate the conditions in the basement via some mouse traps. She didn’t want to kill them before, but I suppose her conviction not to kill them has abraded the more they have invaded. Hm, that kind of rhymed.
I wonder if today was an augury for the job. I hope not. Oh, Sukiaki (one of my cats) who I had been trying to stop from swatting at me when I was petting him did it today. And he gave me two love bites. He’s so psychotic. But I guess that’s what I love about him. Lucky (my other cat) gave me a love bite a few days ago, it kind of angered me, I tried to stop him from doing that too. They lick my hand and then they’re biting it. Eh, they’re weird. They’re cats. I hope to buy an august coat to display my monetary achievements. I’m thinking of asking the people at Kambriel if they’d not add the big poofy things at the ends of the sleeves on the coat–it would be sure to undergo apotheosis if it didn’t have those weird big sleeve-things. I mean, for the prices they charge, I think that they must make everything by hand.
Oh yeah, the thing I started this post to write about: I’ve been reading porn stories on this one website, and I’ve been reading ones by this one author. This one he wrote has two threads, one is anecdotes of encounters he’s had and the other is him growing up. The strange thing is that he’s not gay (supposedly), he’s married but is obsessed with male phallic secretions. The easy answer would be to say that he’s gay but just doesn’t want to admit it–when you say you are obsessed with a homosexual act, that would seem one’s orientation. However, he avers he is not homosexual, he simply is obsessed with that act. It’s very strange. And it’s also kind of scary to think that married Mr. Normal could be going to adult bookstores after work and having anonymous sex. Weird. And the thing is it’s not sex, it’s just that one act. And all the anecdotes–either he is the biggest HIV carrying slut in the world or he has an amazingly perverse and amazingly detailed imagination. I read fantasies all the time on the site, but these don’t seem like fantasies, they seem incredibly real. The possibility that he’s not gay fascinates me.
Ah, I reminded myself to blog about this in an earlier post. Well, the thing I wanted to blog was that I wrote my senior essay and never proofread it, I just handed it in. I ended up reading it later and in one place there was a sentence that read “Like, yeah.” That amused the crap out of me. And the funny thing is I say that all the time. I should get a shirt that says that. Oh, I came up with the greatest idea for a shirt: one that says in big white letters like my nihilst shirt, FAGGOT. That would be the coolest thing ever. I put a new “It’s not cool to love Jesus” sticker on my car, some loser scratched the one I had on there off. This time I put it by the license plate frame thing so it would attract less attention from passerby (as in not get peeled off again). I have an arrant hatred for whoever took my sticker off. Molly had something interesting to say about it (as always). She said she used to have a pro-breastfeeding bumper sticker and some lady yelled at her for it. She said that when you have different beliefs than someone it’s like an insult to confront them with it.
Well, it’s 9:32, I’m going to write little pictoral cues on my vocab cards and go to sleep. I know almost half of them now.