TAURUS (April 20-May 20): The annual Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest invites good writers to compete in creating awful prose. This year Rephah Berg won with this passage: “Angela perceived that her relationship with Tom had always been rocky, not quite a roller-coaster ride but more like when the toilet-paper roll gets squashed so it hangs crooked and every time you pull some off you can hear the rest going bumpity-bumpity in its holder until you go nuts and push it back into shape, a degree of annoyance that Angela had now almost attained.” I hold this up as an example, Taurus, of how you might go about performing a goofy desecration of the thing you do best or love most. And what’s the value in that? If you approach it with a tender intention to take yourself less seriously, you’ll awaken dormant power in the thing you do best or love most.

I need to fill out a FAFSA and email Dr. Wolfe again. *SIGH*
I need to talk to CoreComm HR about my old 401K stuff.
I need to let the desire for companionship and physical closeness pass around me like a breeze, not slam into me like a Mack truck.

“Well, look at these morose motherfuckers right here. Baaaahhhhng!”

Please welcome to LiveJournal.

People around me are insane. Retarded. Hitting each other with pillows. And I’m upset at Sprint. Thirty-five dollar deductible for the equipment replacement plan. My signal cut out on me when I was enrolling. Now I’m going to have to call Sprint tomorrow to make sure it shows up on my bill.

I don’t remember much of my dream last night, but the Doctoral Student was in them. Feh.

I have new dress shoes. And socks.

Tales of the Afternow is put on the indefinite back burner by RantRadio. So I’m going to submit my own version. Anybody know a good sound recording utility for the Mac?

I need to find a goal that promotes security.

I have money for roof over my head and for food in my stomach.

I need a goal.
I need a goal which will provide security.
I need a plan of action to attain this goal.

I need to marinate the hamburger.

My PC’s hard drive is making those “click of death” noises. I swear to bob, I need to just abandon PC’s altogether and replace my piece ‘o shit with a Mac when I get some money. *SIGH* The only problem is that I’d once again be stuck going to the labs for Grapevine.

Someone did suggest coding a Mac version of it. I wonder if I have the skillz.

My dad should be here in about fifteen minutes. I usually expect him a half an hour early. Wonder what happened.

I’d like a six-piece of Chicken McJesus (Jesus Nuggets for short), and an order of Rotisserie Style (spear thru the side, baby).

Extra Crispy, breaded twice!

We Do Jesus Right!

Edgy and tension-filled, soon I’m going to snap. It’s come full-circle again, and the image of the female form won’t leave my mind. This time, it started with that dream. That dream, where the woman I loved didn’t exist. That goddamn dream.

Letting go of the past would help, as there’s always bits of the past that jump ahead into the future. I try to squash the little bastards wherever I find them, but they’re sneaky little fucks. Thinking about last year, or the year before that, or… well, it doesn’t help at all.

Things that people need to know:
: Sleep, damn you! ;) And tell George, “Damn! Now THAT’s an ass!”

: Please stop contacting me. If you can’t find , he’s probably avoiding you. He does that a lot. Just do what you need to do and don’t depend on him. Your life would be much easier that way.

: There is something that doesn’t want to tell you, but you deserve to know.

: You. Me. AfterNow. Dig it.

: We should plan to hang out sometime soon.

I’m listening to Sean Kennedy, The Fucking Man, on Rant Radio. Dig it.

There’s this man who wants to be more than he is. He knows that he already is what he wants to become, and that the path to becoming will lead to no change at the fundamental level. He knows this, and trods his path anyway. The path is what’s important to him, you see.

He guards his territory fiercely, sometimes even from those that he lets in. Sometimes, he needs to just be alone. Luckily, those around him recognize this. Sometimes it only happens after he starts to freak out, but it always happens. He worries, mostly needlessly, about offending others when he needs to be alone.

Sometimes I want to pull out my hair about the obviousness of things.