(no subject)
It's sooo fucking late.
I'm debating with myself whether to tough it out til tomorrow night, but I know I'll just fall asleep on myself.
Saturday and Sunday should be work times. While Yankee Homecoming continues, I'll still be packing. How the fuck did all this shit get in my house? The movers estimate that our total amount of shit is 11,000+ pounds, and we're only taking like a quarter of our furniture. The excess weight comes from literally our books. Why the fuck did I have to come out so smart?
I read more of "Microserfs" through the night after talking with Lahnna for a bit. That book is amazing for philosophy, barring the unintelligible computer lingo that finds itself in the dialogue every so often. But, but but but. Everyone should read it. That's right I said it. The depth, I shan't get into now, but assume that I'll be quoting it for a while, as if I said it myself.
Tuesday is Mallory day still. Lahnna day is right after. I dunno who's is gonna be more elaborate, but both days I'm plannin' to be wicked sweet.
I've run out of music tips and things to look into. People should drop suggestions.
I guess for today/tomorrow, I'll try and sleep, but maybe do a second try with these colonial clothes since nothin's givin'. I didn't get to do anything yesterday becaused Tracie was shick. Damn.
OH! Weird thing: While talking with Jess on the phone, weird fucked up voices started groaning on the line, and she couldn't hear them... it freaked us both out because I thought she was running a very dumb prank on me, but it was just too weird. I thought for a moment it was crossed signals, but whatever I heard wasn't really anything in words... just moaning. I'm a bit shaken, and I think it relates to one of my dad's ghost shots... (today he scanned a few copies, and he's noticing that the ghost is actually shifting in every copy... it's weird, but almost obvious cookie cutter Twilight Zone/Night Gallery kind of drama.) Whatever the case may be, ghosts should skull fuck themselves with a letter opener.
I feel tired for once... to sleep I go.
Leave me some love.
I'm debating with myself whether to tough it out til tomorrow night, but I know I'll just fall asleep on myself.
Saturday and Sunday should be work times. While Yankee Homecoming continues, I'll still be packing. How the fuck did all this shit get in my house? The movers estimate that our total amount of shit is 11,000+ pounds, and we're only taking like a quarter of our furniture. The excess weight comes from literally our books. Why the fuck did I have to come out so smart?
I read more of "Microserfs" through the night after talking with Lahnna for a bit. That book is amazing for philosophy, barring the unintelligible computer lingo that finds itself in the dialogue every so often. But, but but but. Everyone should read it. That's right I said it. The depth, I shan't get into now, but assume that I'll be quoting it for a while, as if I said it myself.
Tuesday is Mallory day still. Lahnna day is right after. I dunno who's is gonna be more elaborate, but both days I'm plannin' to be wicked sweet.
I've run out of music tips and things to look into. People should drop suggestions.
I guess for today/tomorrow, I'll try and sleep, but maybe do a second try with these colonial clothes since nothin's givin'. I didn't get to do anything yesterday becaused Tracie was shick. Damn.
OH! Weird thing: While talking with Jess on the phone, weird fucked up voices started groaning on the line, and she couldn't hear them... it freaked us both out because I thought she was running a very dumb prank on me, but it was just too weird. I thought for a moment it was crossed signals, but whatever I heard wasn't really anything in words... just moaning. I'm a bit shaken, and I think it relates to one of my dad's ghost shots... (today he scanned a few copies, and he's noticing that the ghost is actually shifting in every copy... it's weird, but almost obvious cookie cutter Twilight Zone/Night Gallery kind of drama.) Whatever the case may be, ghosts should skull fuck themselves with a letter opener.
I feel tired for once... to sleep I go.
Leave me some love.