I just watched the Wedding Singer on the Fox Monday Night Movie.
That movie fucking rules.
Now I’m listening to the Cure.
It’s been a while.
It feels good.
Like coming home.
Bret informed me today that Otis Redding died when he was 26.
Incredible.
To put out work with that kind of depth when you’re 26, that is.
I really like this new Hotmail interface.
Usually I whine and bitch about interfaces and stuff.
But this one is really hot.
The commercials for this new tv show with Paris Hilton and her shitty friend really pisses me off.
Socio-economic tourism is infuriating.
They should have called that show “Rich People Are Different Than Poor People”
It all makes me wonder if that sex tape getting released was a coincidence, a publicity stunt for the show, or just somebody trying to make a buck.
After I wrote that last line I checked my other email account.
There was spam about how I could watch the Paris Hilton sex video. Except it used all those foreign characters so it looked like: “Pâris HHii1tòn iin shòcking vídeô”
Sometimes spam is entertaining.
All this Cure is really hitting the spot.
I’m so done with New York.
I’m trying to force myself to work a normal work week of 40 hours like everybody else so that I can afford to get myself an mp3 player before my big trip.
Working is for the birds.
I have plenty to do on my own without somebody else giving me a bunch of busywork.
I always used to get really mad in grade school when I realized teachers were just giving us busywork.
I would fly into fits of rage, turning desks over, throwing dittos into the air with reckless abandon, screaming “Liberation! Liberation! Dieu le volt!”
And then the principal would come in with a taser and electrocute me until I shitted and puked on myself and passed out.
That’s kind of how I feel about having to have a job, but a bit less melodramatic.
It is fun having an office to go to though.
I’ll admit that.
Especially when you get to play loud music at that office.