rice in cup

April 26, 2005

i smell like tuna.

nah, not really.

i saw michelle pfeiffer the other day.

and i was really hungover.


i swear i wasn’t high

April 19, 2005

i just had the craziest dream this morning. i hope i remember it all.

i was at my house in riverside. i was with donna. but she was talking about how she was supposed to be at work but that she didn’t care. her boss was supposed to be leaving that day and she was like “oh! shoot! oh well, i didn’t really like him anyway.”

all of a sudden, two cops come in through the door and say “donna, we have a warrant for you and are putting you under protective custody.”

they don’t cuff me (yet). the cops aren’t too happy about this and one of them says “i know, i know, it’s a waste of my-your time.” (i swear, he actually said ‘my-your time'”. i ask donna if she called her parents or if her mom called her and she said “i didn’t think they’d do this.” for some reason, I ask them if they want anything to drink, to be nice and all. but there are only half open bottles. i look a can that has the same logo and font as coke but it’s all in french (i think). it has “fruitez” as its name. i say to the cop “this is probably the cheap knock off stuff.” so he asks for a miller lite.

at this point, it gets kind of hazy. they leave, i’m saddened and all of a sudden i have cuffs on me. i go outside and the park in front of my house has a big magnetic pole in the middle and the earth has been tilled (there’s grass there in real life). i start moving towards it because of the cuffs. i use all my strength over and over and finally pull away.

my parents come back home. they’re like “what’s going on?” i tell them and they’re like “what?” then my dad says they moved all the stuff out there to 23rd and third and that since they uncovered a layer of topsoil that he’s interested in ever since they ripped up the ground.

then i’m thinking “what? my girlfriend was just taken away by the cops and that’s all you can say?”

then i woke up (but not really) and i’m looking at a dominatrix magazine or some weird fetish magazine. there’s a section for people who pretend to be animals.

then i actually wake up.

someone just walked into my office and asked me if i had found a round usb drive and a mousepad with vulvas on it.

“did you just say vulvas?”
“yes. a mousepad with vulvas on it.”

one hell of a morning.

and all the kings men…

April 14, 2005

all the best writers were on something.

drugs. alcohol. whatever.

maybe morphine.

and so the wild horses ran into the shore not knowing what to do but all they could thik about whas how everything was so beautifuyl.
that is all.

yay for everththing.

on the road ahead

April 11, 2005

next stop: hefeweizen.


April 9, 2005

twice in one day. crazy.

i feel sub par right now. as a boyfriend. as a son. as a person.

not really excelling anywhere. fucking up here and there. doesn’t feel right.

the only thing i’m remotely good at is my job and that doesn’t even matter since doing really well pays the same as doing just the same.

i hate it when i think things that i shouldn’t be thinking but i still think them anyway because i’m just…human.

i don’t get this society based on an unnecessary amount of guilt. it’s unhealthy.

NIN – The Hand that Feeds

mr. saturday

April 9, 2005

this blog has been in the doldrums.

when your saturday to do list contains items like “buy milk, 60w light bulb, and deposit tax refund,” how can i expect to put up anything interesting on this space?

beats me.

i really should hang out with more crackwhores, pimps, and dwarves. at least i’d have cool pictures.

i started a new batch of beer. it should be like anchor steam liberty. nothing special, it’s just to get me back into the groove.

here’s a picture of the wort cooling down

it should be ready by the time doug, reina, and harold come up. yipee.

i had more to write but i forgot.