wanna go HOME now...
SATAN DRIVES TO WORK

 
  This Worm's Terrible

16 March 2001


6:38 AM: Just to prove that I'm not making this up. Surely you don't think that I would fake the timestamp? My gosh, what have we come to. Hey, did that purple pen just move? Hmm. Well, I hit it and it seems dead now. Better keep an eye on it just in case.

Do you have any idea how hard it is to take medication three times a day when "times" and "day" have become fluid postmodern abstractions? Or something like that. You know, vague and meaningless. Like TV news. This song by Mascott, "Costume Ball", is so cute. Girls in bands, my my. Well, let's not go there right now. Let's go to -- New Zealand! That's far. Much farther than Fremont, if you can believe it.


10:29 AM: Sometimes I think I could run a fuel cell powerful enough to run my whole apartment off the oil from my forehead.

Enjoy your lunch!


10:46 PM: Oh.My.God. Dept.: So my brain was finally too whacked to keep working around 3 PM Today. I wasn't sleepy yet, in that perverse way of it, so I was noodling around on the Web instead. And I go looking around on the boards on MBTV, and, and...

Willow Rosenberg! Look at that! I'm just ... taken aback is what I am. Very far back. I'm where the bad kids hang out. And so is she! This is from the new issue of FHM, this terrible Maxim-ish magazine that I have to rush out and buy right now.





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

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All names are fake, most places are real, the author is definitely unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep.
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The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne.