:: Out of Spite, Out of Mind ::

:: Thursday, November 14, 2002 ::

Ladies and Gentlemen, for my next trick I shall channel the spirit of Blick, a comatose adolescent not yet born, so in the meantime he sits around in an alternate universe and sniffs glue.

Dear Dairy,

I mean Diary. Dammenit it, I wish I spelleded beater. I mean, I mean, uh, I know hold on. I mean fuck. Maybe it was a Froidian Slit, or Floydian Slick... you know, when whatever its called, when you mean something and say another- like what I meaned to say was, sometimes... like that Bon Jovi lyric

"Sometimes when you're alone, all you do is think"
yeah. I mean, that shit is hella real dog.

Today I went to Santana row at Valley Fair- it was hella jacked up and it was even hella wack.
I mean, shit. I saw some hot chicks, I could tell by the way they ignoreded me that...yeah. They wanted me. I can just smell that shit. They don't call me "spunkmeister squirrel boy" for nothin. I think that's a compliment. If not, i'm gonna kick some fucin assis.

Heh heh... ok channeling is over- I did go to Santana Row today- I found a kick ass Japanese stationary store there. I bought some pens and a notepad of music paper that says:

"Producing music, in a sense, is like producing children"

Those wacky Japanese! For my future wife, I can show her this pad and wink at her and say "hey baby, wanna make some racket?"

Blick: ok, that was hella cheesy you as-hole! I mean, how gross! Like, what if you were my dad or something?

Me: I AM your dad. Shut the hell up, go back to your...uh...

Blick: Where are you gonna send me, huh? That's Heeeeellla lame. I'm not even born yet- what are you gonna do, send me back to your imaginary ballsack?

Me: Ok, that's it smartass- you're grounded! I can't send you anywhere, but I can take away your voice cuz I am the "typer" of this blog. (deletes all comments from Blick)

Blick: Bastard!!! I mean, you're not a bastard because you're my dad and I know you have a daad...but....(delete, delete, delete...etc...)

Ok. Looks like I created a monster. So back to my eventful day: The highlight of the day was eating at the Cheesecake factory w/sis and sis' bf. Mahi Mahi Tacos, good stuff. There was a woman that kept looking at me, like in a come hither, but stay away kind of way. I could feel her eyes on me...

She made me feel like a library book because she was blatantly "checking me out". (shut up Blick, I know it's cheesy)

Then I realized she was pregnant. Very pregnant. I felt strange, she was somewhat attractive... I wondered if, perhaps, in some parallel universe, she was my wife.

Maybe in some parallel universe it was Blick in her womb. Thank God it is not.

Goodnight, Blick. (I'd never name a kid Blick by the way)

Blick: You just did, when you named me in your blog!
Me: Whoops. Sorry. Ask your mom.

G'night.

:: Ol Man Factory 11/14/2002 01:13:00 AM [+] ::
...

Captain's blog stardate 34.68.01

The enterprise and crew are held captive by a strange alien vessel.
What...(10 second pause)...is....this?

:: Ol Man Factory 11/12/2002 12:42:00 PM [+] ::
...

Cryptic letter from the editor:

I'm So over it:

1) AT&T/Cell phone- out of the 50 or so #'s I only call like 3 of them
2) My job - it is bleeding me dry.
3) Driving/traffic/parking
4) Condescending, smarmy people
5) Dance Clubs
6) My haircut
7) Winona Ryder
8) Christmas
9) My job. Money, or lack of. No matter how hard I work, it doesn't matter, I'm still not gonna make shit.
10) The torturous repititious nature of my "job". I use the term "job" loosely- I feel like poor Sysyphus.

Time to spin a cocoon and molt... or riot and revolt in the street.

:: Ol Man Factory 11/10/2002 04:01:00 PM [+] ::
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