Friday, November 02, 2001
|3:01 PM|
Blood flakes from a wound on my head are in my hand. when did I last hit my head violently enough to draw blood? Shouldn't it have bled much more than just this little bump? Maybe I washed the rest of the blood away last night in the shower. It unnerves me when I find wounds that I cannot remember getting. This one on my head is by no means big enough to make me think it is the reason I don't recall injuring myself. Bah. 2 hours remain in my work week. 4 pages left on my book. I have many tasks to accomplish and I don't want to be here as daylight burns away. There will never be another November second, 2001.

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|1:17 PM|
1,912,307is what the prime number bear is up to on the slave computer at my house. No monitor or keyboard or mouse on that thing, so no easy way to crash it. I'm shooting for the top of the list on the page. Shoot! I don't have the link...

Ah, thank goodness for JP. Here is that odd link to a bear that craps out prime numbers.

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|12:00 PM|
I chewed through 200 pages of Lolita in the few hours I had available to me at work. I think that I will be able to finish it today. Few books make me linger, and fewer still make me put them down in order to let the previous pages sink in. I am astounded by this book. Hopefully I will have more free hours today then I did yesterday.

For most of the last half of this past workday I dealt with people who just didn't understand why their problems could not be magically fixed. I was the magic printer genie, wasn't I? They had found my phone number or my ticket queue and so they didn't even need to rub my office door. "Sorry, you have to walk your own lazy ass to the mail room to get toner. My lazy ass stays by this phone". This job is still much less soul killing then my previous one.

JP is out of town. I accompanied him in Vorpal's car along with Zusty as he was driven to Fort Worth to be abandoned on his parents door step. For such a melancholy chore we had a fairly enjoyable trip. Speaking of cars, gas money was not as much an issue as I had feared. I fished all the change out of the bottom of my tiny washing machine, as well as all change left in old cups around the house.

I have to make a phone call to schedule a tech job for Saturday. This is actually the same household that was my first real free-lance tech job. I wired up their house, I paid for incredible tools, I sweat and bled, sometimes directly onto their computers. All I wanted for Christmas that year was a solid "PC" light on their cable modem. I got a failed business instead.

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Thursday, November 01, 2001
|5:30 PM|
Charon Doesn't Make Change

Pale skinny fingers dropped soda-gooey quarters into the sausage and ham hands of the gas station woman. $1.70, with the two dimes pulled from a seat cushion was the total. This tiny sum purchased enough gasoline for the fuel light to turn off for a mere mile. I now do not know how I will get to work. I really should not have been able to get home on this gas tank. And the paycheck was again missing from my mailbox. I can kite a check, but a car doesn't take crap from anybody, certainly not someone who had to scrape old food wrappers off the change that got him to work.

I thought this lamprey like life of no paycheck would end today. I guess they fouled up my check again. Another day, another couple tiny loans, a few dollars here and there, to get me through. I don't have enough gas to go get my drugs, nor enough gas to get to work tommorow safely. I'll still roll those dice at 8am tommorow.

The happier side of today was on the ride home, I was stuck at an intersection. Nearby was a cluster of tall grassy weeds, and among them was a flock of birds. They were finches, I think, and they were looking for a place to land. They would settle their feet onto a plant, and these plants were not strong enough to hold up even the tiny weight of their bird bodies. However, the time it took the plant to bend was not so short that the bird would fly off and find something else to land on until it hit the ground. So the flock of birds was continually in motion, flit over to a plant, rest, descend slowly, hit the ground and take off only to land on a similar plant. This process lasted the entire time I was at the light and I found myself laughing uproariously. The idea had gotten stuck in my head that these birds were enjoying the most primitive of carnival rides. These plants were grass ferris wheels for birds, sadly lacking the "up".

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|1:59 PM|
At work. Thankfully I have some books to read, so that I won't go utterly bonkers.

"Rad", "wicked" and other slang terms need to make a come back. Maybe if I convince some people to tattoo these words to their arms or buttocks it could happen. But I doubt this in the extreme.

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|1:25 AM|
Went to a halloween party. I got to show off my costume of "Famine" of the four horseman. I'll post pictures when I'm less fantastically lazy.

Yep. That's it.

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Wednesday, October 31, 2001
|12:54 PM|
In a mere 4 hours and 17 minutes I turn back into a pumpkin or a mouse or something. The contract with Dell ends and I do not know if I will be paid. They tell us (they being the salespeople negotiating the damn thing) that we're the selected provider, that Dell will not give a "verbal" confirmation that we are being renewed "until more data is selected". So we have a verbal indication that a more concrete verbal indication of a contract is upcoming. This is stupid. It is also quite rude. I want to jump onto a desk in front of the salespeople, grab my groin and scream "Have you no BALLS?". But that wouldn't accomplish anything.

I'm not as tired as I was. My head still has unexplained bumps. I haven't dreamed more than once in a very long time. At least I can sleep. I keep having to cut out on Vorpal, Zusty, and JP before their night is over due to my job. Blasted responsible sleep schedule. Someone tell it I hate it.

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|1:52 AM|
I dove across a carpet floor to pick up a phone call that might have been either a female or a pharmacy telling me my drugs were ready. Either way, I moved an incredible distance at a high rate of speed only to find out that the phone call was a request for tech support.

Drat.

My doctor is being the coolest docdude I've run into since my father. He's got me setup for a sample of Adderall that should tide me over until my paycheck materialized "But don't get this sample voucher filled at your normal pharmacy". It's a bit sketchy. Oh, and he also filled my inventory with a huge bag of EffeX04 that said it was expired. But that was, according to Mister Doctor Man "Bullshit" and the drugs were good. Ah, wonderful Wiffle chemical life.

Found my physical copy of Lolita. It was under some cable and electric bills. Figures. It's currently re-reaming my ass, though I had to emit perfect confidence while reading it in public places such as the pharmacy in order to convince people that I was not reading pornography.

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Tuesday, October 30, 2001
|3:22 PM|
Once again a lizard has been saved from certain death by none other than me. I was at Vorpal's apartment and a lizard showed up, in true lizard fashion near the cat's water bowl. Thinking back to my previous lizard related escapades, I quickly aquired a plastic cup and a plate. Unfortunately, the cat Vorpal keeps around to destroy important documents had noticed the little slimy devil and had pounced. The lizard's head vanished between the cat's jaws and I was certain that this had gone from a rescue mission to a funeral. spooking the cat caused it to drop the little guy, and he showed himself to be very much alive by skittering away in a scurry-type fashion. I fell upon him with non lethal capture equipment, and Zusty ferried him off to safe bushes outside. Sadly, I have no pictures of this lizard, but I could provide a link to the original ones, as they looked almost identical.

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|10:23 AM|
You have to be careful how long you let a story idea sit in your head. If you are not careful then it all fades and you forget what you intended. I have a pile of orphaned stories. Interesting premises, strange opening lines, odd plot developments, none of them are immune to creative leprosy. I will see about finishing the story I'm working on right now, as I don't think he's a terminal case.

These pants are uncomfortable. I think Dell might mind if I started walking around in my boxers, though. I'd blame the lack of milk in the cafeteria and then burst into song. Hopefully my incredibly poor singing voice would drive them away from me, perhaps to build underground lairs.

I haven't heard from Shafto since mid September. I wonder what he's doing.

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Monday, October 29, 2001
|7:18 PM|
Sometimes I wish life would break into a nice little dance number. Hip swaying head bobbing toe tapping, the whole shebang. I want swing dance mixed with kicklines and tap shoe wearing waltz-ers. Large random fountains and torches would all be needed, in the resteraunt at which I was just eating.

I updated comedy GangBang


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|2:52 PM|
I want to propel myself along the ground by means of a cart and a pair of sharp spikes. I would bury a spike in the ground and pull myself forward, and then remove that spike from the earth as I buried the second spike further up. I bet I could build up some major arm strength that way.

It's getting slower around here. Time is grinding to a halt. Even when we try to say Mississippi out loud we drag along the syllables. You can watch the second hand on a clock, and it seems to fill with the same lethargy that we're feeling. We want an answer on the contract. We want to get on with our jobs.

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|2:27 PM|
Work. Work. Work. Work. I suppose if I get much more bored with this paticular task I could tear off my clothes and jump out a window. I think that'd be intimidating. I'd have to land standing on my feet to really intimidate the smokers.

My coworker is really beginning to lose it. He's babbling something about why mississippi is the word we use to time a suppossed second. Why does it have to be a state? Why not a city? I think I may have to subdue him.

I'm getting a raise if I don't get laid off. I hate this contract crap. It makes me sound like a liar. They've been pushing this contract back for over a year now, and so the whole time I've been here it's been a major issue. I'm tired of this uncertainty. What really blows is that other than burning down the building, or sleeping with the VP's, there is nothing I can do to affect the decision of whether or not we'll be renewed.

I did get a call from an old computer support customer, so there is some more money in my future.

Things are looking alright.

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Sunday, October 28, 2001
|6:33 PM|
I've killed the sniveling and growling cur that I used to be. I've found some way around the anger and fear that use to take the place of common sense. Confidence and Will ebb and flow, tidal movement that never quite robs the beach entirely of their prescence. Sometimes it seems like I have no place to move towards, mentally. Most people don't understand how a clock works. They just know what the most straightforward parts do, and some people know how to adjust the pendulum in the spring so the humitity doesn't make them late for dinner. I have even less of a clue about myself then I do about clocks. I don't know why I'm writing this or posting it other than I was thinking about it and I don't have a spraypaint can to write it on a car.

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|5:47 PM|
Feels like...

I've got a mind that has become a thousand pieces of glass stuck in a man shaped spider's web. Anything I think about is a fly, struggling and bleeding. I don't understand.

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|5:30 PM|
Apparently I've been asleep since my last update. I suck. Time to go wake up using drugs and coca-cola

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|4:58 AM|
My right tit is good luck

The odd title comes from a man's mouth, though we were on our way to a strip club at the time. I will now imitate this bachelor party I attended.

Tits, Tits, Ass
BEEER.
Tits, Tits, Ass

I didn't drink, and something was a bit off in my head by the end of the evening so I was not particularly into the all nude strip bar that finished out the party. We had started festivities off with a hotel room and a couple hired strippers, who also brought a long a full leather-clad cat woman friend. I mention this because she brought a whip, which comes into play in just a few short sentences. After the bachelor had been thoroughly tortured, a couple males were given personal attention by the hired women. I ended up in the center of the room after some friends of mine paid for special treatment. My boxers were promptly torn to hell with laser accuracy by the elder stripper. I was then strangled by my own belt while being bucked around. In a mere 3 minutes I had gone from a perfectly normal state to on the floor being whipped repeatedly. From the chatter I heard from the women they were impressed at my flexibility. I spent most of the rest of my evening hanging around with a very nice homosexual fellow. He was probably the only male among us less interested in the strip club than I. Not to say I was totally disinterested, but something was missing, or so it seemed to me.

Well, I did like those boxers. I'll take a webcam shot when I wake back up. It's been a long hard night. Oh! I should update those who care on Zusty, who Vorpal and I callously ditched to go to this festival of debauchery. Zusty and I had planned to go to goodwill to shop for costumes 2 days ago, but this was cancelled when I showed up at where she is staying and promptly collapsed in a half slumbering state. I was conciouss enough only to foul up her conversation with someone on the phone, so I'm a jerk. Eventually I woke up and we watched "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid" which is excellent.Dinner was eaten at a nice mexican resteraunt which neglected to charge Vorpal for his food out of convience.
The next day we went shopping for costumes. Zusty found a very unusual dress/robe thing that is going to be her costume. It can play many roles depending on what she chooses to go as. I am going as Famine, and I carry my costume around with me, the ability to suck in my gut to starvation proportions. I'd post a picture but as several people can testify, it's too hideous even for the internet.

Zusty seems to be enjoying herself despite Vorpal's and my best efforts to bore her to death. If you are reading this Zusty, I'm sorry. We'll be cooler soon. I promise.

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