Network admin is listening to the Scissors Sisters' cover of "Comfortably Numb". Yesterday it was old-school metal and the day before it was Nazi rock. Tomorrow he'll probably been spinning some hot Chopin that's burning up the charts. I find this to be a nice indicator of my life.
I sat in Starbucks (sorry!) this morning thinking about the fact that I am starting (or I claim I am starting) my novel next month. This is one big fat scary thing. It means I wont be able to stop at Starbucks (sorry!) every morning on the way to work. Instead I will sit at home and clack away at my keyboard until something approaching a coherent sentence comes out. But then again, since I do not plan on trying to publish this novel, maybe "coherence" isn't the level for which I should be shooting.
Just overheard the network admin say something which sounded like "just label the cd-rom 'Pop-tart Installed'". I know he didn't really say that and I think the universe is a more desolate place because of this. I'm going to ask him if he will install pop-tarts on my laptop. Please support me in this. Start a petition or something.
We the undersigned (and under aged, under the desk, under the weather, underwear, under done) strongly insist that Richard's laptop be fully outfitted with all essentials, including pop-tarts. Failure to do so will surely result in the appearance of werewolf armies who seek to destroy all that is good and American in this world. If you do not agree, you hate freedom. How can you sleep at night? It's like the terrorists have already won.Please leave a comment showing your support. If I get enough support I will present the petition to Mr. Network Admin and let you know of the hilarious results. Actually, I probably wont show him but I'll make up some seemingly likely story about it. But only if you, the audience, demand it.
(PS. This is in fact an example of me being a blatant comment whore. Return to your ordinarily scheduled lives. And remember, no matter where you are, there you were - or something like that.)
Now, where was I? Oh, yes. I'm terribly frightened of all the writing I've agreed to do. I want to crawl into a corner and weep. On the other hand, what am I doing at Starbucks (sorry!) every morning that is so important I can't miss it for a couple of months? I'm far too in love with the things of this world, anyway. And Starbucks (sorry!) is a place where the in-love-with-things-ness of the world comes out most clearly. Sure, it's a nice place to read and they play good music and the coffee is ok, but look at all the shallowness you need to put up with. Sure, the baristas are hot and all... I mean... yeah... What was I talking about?
I've been reading The Monkey King lately and it reminds me of how much I miss punk. When I was a wee lad (tip of the hat to St. Pat) I used to listen to punk all the time. The Dead Kennedy's (my parents almost banned Give me Convenience or Give me Death from our house), Bad Religion ("come out and play, and we'll pretend it's Christmas day in my Atomic!"), The Sex Pistols ('natch), Angry Samoans (you gotta love songs about poking your eyes out with a fork and Hitler's reproductive organs wandering around the earth), Husker Du (or are they post-punk?), etc... So long ago... I wish I had a working record player as I have a lot (or used to, I might have lost them while moving) of cool records. I might buy some punk CDs, but I might be too old. As John Waters put it - anger is a young man's game. There are still a couple of punk-esque bands I listen to (nothing after the 80s is punk - sorry kids!) like Craig's Brother, but it's been a long time since I really listened to all that stuff. Last night there were a lot of kids with mohawks (that is not dead which can eternal lie and with strange aeons even punk wont die) (tip of the hat to old HPL) wandering around the Landsdowne St/Fenway area - must have been some all ages show at Avalon or something. That made me pine for the good old days...
Anyway, once more into the breech, etc...
Reading
Wishing
Plotting
