For anyone who saw the football game last night, that was fucking crazy. There. No more heterosexual shit in this post.
It is awful cold in the mornings now. So much so I can feel it in my joints. It takes longer to crack out all the kinks before I have full mobility. I think I might be getting on in years.
But Halloween is coming up!!! I still haven’t decided what I was going to be. What are you going to be?
This weekend while watching the news coverage on the lockout of the longshoremen, I kept thinking that several containers for my company are right there. So now it’s Monday and the lockout continues. Our shit is still there. I wonder if we’ll have to be responsible for the storage charges. I’ll fight that shit to the bitter end.
It feels funny being the only person here at work who supports the ILWU (the longshoremen’s union).
I decided last night to put all of my books on the bookshelf. Of course, I’m really anal about things like this; everything must be in alphabetical order, and the books should extend out the same length. This is why I don’t do this very often. When I was done, I realized that I need another bookshelf. Now this ain’t some eenie weenie dealybop. No. This is a pretty decent sized bookshelf which takes up half of the wall space. *sighs*
On an up note, my room is more sanitary!
I’m lost in a maze of information kiosks
Fully digitized and magnetized
To its perplexing Galvanic function.
Don’t kill me for still remembering
Maxwell’s Equations
Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle
Stoke’s Theorem.
I’ve given those up like an aging model’s vices.
Unconsciousness rears its ugly head
While I burn effigies of Freud
Smug in their bearded oracle stance.
I don’t believe in Republicans
Nor do I believe in Amerika
Strking in their respective myths
Their perspectives shifting wildly.
Maybe I’ll be the bearded terrorist
Mounting my bomb in a strange love
Actually learning to love
While destroying
All precious bodily fluids.
Who now to rise up
Against injustices?
Firsrt there were the anarchists
Then the commies
The hippies
The punks
Finally the terrorists
And those politicians
They’ll drive us into the neon cocoons
Previously assigned by corrupt executives
Oblivious accountants
And multi-national coffee-electonics conglomerates.
Will the afterlife be polluted with
The chattering of cellphones
Buzzing of inane weather conversations
Humming of SUVs?
In a yuppie’s wet dream perhaps.
And do androids dream of electric sheep
Or heterosexual men of testosterone tits?
And when will I get the chance
To scream my polluting ideas
Blow cigarette smoke into the faces
Of every evil mainstream trend
And sit on every pretty boy’s face
Defecating my disgust into their
Seeming pure mouths.
I can smell them now in their Tommy Sport cologne,
A&F cumrag shirts
Calvin Klein piss/shit encrusted boxer/briefs
Pathogenic GAP Khakis (complete with swing dancers).
No.
All of these horrors
I refuse
To believe in.
Now I will sit down at the coffeehouse
Write these stupid words
Listen to the inane chatter
And read my book
My only refuge from the Wasteland.
Was out with N___ last night bitching about the stagnation of my life. And in the spirit of mix tapes, I decided to make one. I’m half-way done with it, but it’s pretty good so far. I’ll post the tracklisting when I’m finished.
BTW, I talked with E___ the other night. My fears were realized: he wanted a relationship.
Me: But it’s only been a little more than a week!
E: I know, but I guess I really wanted more.
The worst part about this is that he was a good lay. There’s nothing worse than losing a good fuck. *sighs*
