14 June 2001
4:57 PM: Really nice day outside Today. Trains were slow because of day game at ball park. So, tedious and jealous.
Saw Amores Perros last night. Fantastic film. Hard to believe that it's their first film (director Alejandro González Iñárritu, screenplay Guillermo Arriaga). Some of the characters are kind of stupid, and you wince a little knowing what they're about to do and how much it's going to knock their head in. But then, there's dog fighting (simulated) in the movie too, and that tends to make you not feel so bad about people who could, after all, make different choices. I also appreciated the lack of snakes.
6:47 PM: I really do have a filthy mouth, I swear. I'm having something of a frustrating day not to mention THIS FUCKING MOUSE oh sorry, well there you go, see? Plus I can't type. Anyways, I just kind of suddenly realized that I had been yelling "GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!!!!" really loud, on account of something I did yesterday was making all of my scripts break and I didn't have any backup copies. I am in the office, after all. This could possibly cause some alarm among the remaining people in the building. No wonder nobody says anything to me about working after everyone else leaves...
This would not be a good day to cold call me. Or talk to me at all, probably. The most fucked thing is that I know that if I go to the bar tonight, that same guy who's been there every goddamn night will be there again, droning on and on about shit that nobody cares about, trying to be so cool and sophisticated or whatever the fuck it is he thinks he's doing, and saying "Well I might be a little drunk, but I really think ..." bla bla bla. The one besides me, dummy.
Sometimes, you know, I just don't get it. I don't know why what happens happens, not even remotely. I don't know who anybody is, what they're thinking, why they do what they do, why they say what they say - or don't say what they don't say - what they expect me to do or think or be. What strange beings these humans are. It discomfits me. Just a bit.
Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.
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.