Ticket Stub: �thursday night confessional / admitt one�
2003-02-23 - 6:12 p.m.
today's junk mail was printed on recycled paper. something i've been thinking about for a couple minutes now...when people think about spam, junk mail, they usually think about the consequences to themselves...extra padding in their mailbox. but what about the ecological impact? what if a company, such as Microsoft (TM), made it very easy for companies to access data about customers, say, if you bought a certain cd in the past year or so. oh, how the whales, and not the pigs, will pay dearly, for our over spammed mailboxes.
�first, God made Adam. a creature of his own image, powerful, versatile, and capable of great things�and sharing with God certain undesirable qualities of loneliness and self-pity. for if Adam was ever lonely, he was only the artwork of a greater being, who wanted nothing more than to communicate to someone else his own merciless loneliness. man was a canvas for God�s emotion, a representation of how he was feeling that day, nothing more. and for the most part, that emotion was the same, no matter what day of the week it was. there is none other like God, none other with loneliness so incurable, no matter how wretched a human may make themself out to be. but in making man, he eventually realized that he had built an exception to the system�this underling canvas, because he was under God, had one ability that God did not�the ability to plea of his creator something more. and God complied to this request, for who was God to prevent this creation from obtaining the only thing that was out of his own reach? first, he created the many animals...and for a few days, Adam was pleased...but sadness still curled up under his eyes at night, because he could not totally sympathize with the animals. so God created Eve, and in their meeting completed the creaion of both...for he was a God of mercy and compassion, and it gave him a little hint of a smile to feel the irony. He, the only being powerful enough to create happiness was unable to experience it for himself. and on the eighth day, God rested, a long, deep rest, from which there would be no more waking to another self-created day. for any being with the power will certainly use it, any being with the ability to put himself out of such a unique misery would do so.
i�m faced yet again with the idea of failing out of college�four days�time to start counting down forwards instead of backwards. i�ll prubly end up cheating to pass, but it�s not the morals that are holding me back�it�s the effort. very much am i lacking in the �e� department. the next few days will either bend or break me, and my dilemma is in trying to find out which one of these alternatives will most satiate me.
ye olde note: �been talking to myself again as of late, selling myself a car, arguing the direction of �up�, picking up things and flying them around the room [with little spaceship noises]. this is what i used to be like, several summers full of neurotic boredom and psychological wastelands. *tiltrollheadstickouttongue* anything to avoid thinking about the endless time i�ve been wasti- �oops.�
when i was growing up, we didn't have none of this fancy paint-mixing technology. when i was little, i mean really little, you had to go to the store and pick out a certain tone of whatever colour your house was, and suffer with it for the whole house (or at least the visible portions of it). people don't seem to have that kind of energy anymore, that kind of dedication to paint their whole house. nowadays, you walk into the store with a hand-sized chunk of your house, and they take a picture of it, and replicate it, right down to the texture. no more do you need to worry about painting the whole house, because they can re-create the wear-and-tear associated with the rest of the house. dog-shit-spackled-white? yeah, we got that. psychedelic-who-knows-what? available in every outlet. from the ever-popular used-to-be-white-but-now-covered-with-rings-of-yellowish-cigarette-smoke-debris to the rusted-iron-sheet-metal colours in no less than 2000 variations (specifically for those hard-to match garages)...people all over america are finding it much more efficient to paint just a spot here and there, than actually go through all the effort to do something right�and besides, preliminary studies show that painting one's house in shoot-the-fuckers-ma!-shotgun-black does not support terrorist activity.
irish cornrows. that�s where i was goin� with the hair. walkin� down boston streets, the only muthafucka with a strictly african dew as a prewarned don�t. gotta have balls to pull off shyte like that, wear a durag to a black people�s society meeting, and argue that you can�t be kicked out due to being white because that would be discriminatory. but really, i look at the mess growin� on my skull and don�t think i could be much worse off.
most people set their alarm clocks ahead, thinking that it�s gonna encourage them to wake up earlier, by giving them that five minutes they wanted to sleep in, by taking off five minutes of actual sleep. instead, they end up all the lazier because they just account for that five minutes, and need to set their alarm clock ahead another five minutes. instead, i�ve set my clock behind�and don�t tha� wake you up like an ice cube on your tit. most of the time, that�s what you end up with, because you�re in such a rush to get out the door, you ain�t gots time to wait for the shower to warm up before you�re dressed and out the door.
Sidenote: in the future, it will be advised not to write so often in the dark.
Amendum the first:
�two hogies, a whole pizza, and order-out chinese....what you think....should I get a pregnancy test?� -G
�YES.� -L
�hehehe, oh, and a minor craving for chocolate� -G
�...but I cleaned my room and rearranged it, yay!� -G
�definately need a pregnancy test� -G
�losin your head, maybe?� -L
Amendum the second:
new idea for a film�inspired by that R-rated flick, �Waiting to Exhale�. but instead, it would be called �Forgetting to Exhale� and would be more of a cross between �Half Baked� and �Trainspotting� than anything else, but with a considerable number of cast members from the Saturday Night Live cast (plus music from Stephen Lynch), and featuring a complete set of lookalikes for all of the different presidents of the continental US (that one Eskimo president doesn�t really count), just sitting in the background of the scenes, doing various drugs in various ways.
