wanna go HOME now...
SATAN DRIVES TO WORK

 
  Creamy Filling

16 February 1999


OK, so I lied about the creamy part.


11:13 PM: Days go by and still remarkably little to say. Been reading the first two Antares books by Michael McCollum - very Honoresque, in all the ways that's good and bad. Good for being absorbing light pulpy naval fiction. Bad for the "girls", as I might loosely describe the nominally female characters.

I am praying that the VCR worked. Shall see soon. I joined a friend's Buffy mailing list and forgot to turn off the mail announcer utility that runs here, which quotes the first five lines of any incoming message - including, of course, the first-sentence response to the big plot shurprise in tonight's show. I'm trying to convince myself I didn't really see that much. TV is hard. Expensive, too, since I'm close to attacking mine with a big heavy thing - like the ground - the next time it shorts out.

I'm really glad this weekend is over. This was not enjoyable idleness. This was compulsive waiting-around-for-nothing idleness. NG.




Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.

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