This, too
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Dad's Armyathon! Fantastic. [Wastes the day]
[From] a debate on economics, in which I exercise that right to disagree (for which I'm supposed to be so thankful)...
"You're free to go move to North Korea."
"1) No, I'm not, I don't think Pyongyang's desperate for western infiltrators.
2) What in the Holy Flying Out-House of Jesus Shitting Christ does that have to do with anything?"
It's four A.M. and I have said that I am going to bed, but in truth I am not tired. I mean, I am not tired-out. I ought to be funned-out or intoxicated or something. This youth is not going right. Where are all the good people and the fucked people and the ideas people and anyone that isn't these people? I don't know.
Family's off in Turkey, again. Been gone for a week. Near where the bomb was, recently. I have not gone, because I don't care to get heatstroke just for the sake of being a family-centric tourist. I bet there is a word that I ought to have used in stead of family-centric, but it is four A.M. and so that isn't going to happen.
It is four A.M. and I am going to show you one of those awful Southparkesque (I don't know that there's a better word for that) caricatures of my self. In retrospect, the backdrop is a bit more woe-is-me than I had originally considered when selecting it. I do not put enough thought into composition and context. I am a bad artist. I think that I am wondering how I got all the way out into a field without my pint losing its head. 
You know what, since it is hardly fit to be called an exaggerated likeness, I don't think that caricature was the proper term. Tonight is about bad language.
Lately, I have been thinking about things that I would own on a typical day in a home that would be next... which is really sad and I think the term is, "lame". But there you go. And about what is to be done, or has been done, or ought to be done. I thought that there would be some Weetabix in a... or on a..., some cheap ale in the..., probably rather a lot of scrawl on the wall, and probably I would still need a toothbrush, but I wouldn't be too fussy about whether or not it had Superted on it. I think that there ought to be more things I am lucky to live to regret, rather than there being the boring kind of regrets about nothing. This is obvious. I think it leads into uncomfortably self-aware clichés about self destruction for fun as probably should be finishing by now rather than feeling inclined to start. But then I look about fifteen, maybe I could get away with it. This is all very fuzzy and pointless now that I'm sober.
I have another update that I ought to have finished and posted, by now, but I have not, because I have a short attention span. I have been tagged, you see, and quite some time ago at that. I blame someone for goading me into playing this pissing Runescape thing. Fucking imps, if I have to kill one more I may go insane... drop a fucking black bead, you little bastards!
Uhm. I got distracted looking-up old Godzilla films.
"Your heart is frozen and dry. Who'd love a cyborg?"
I still love you, Katsura! Come back!
4:00 a.m. - 2005-07-31
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