Mjarc
Not so thrilled about the sick thing anymore. Wish it would just go away. I've pretty much slept the day away, as have most of my other roommates. The new living room seems to be nap-indusive. Who would've thunk it?
I remember waking up from a wicked dream that involved myself, a Pizza Hut, a polaroid camera, and a meat lovers pizza to Matt watching a Pizza Hut commercial on tv and talking about how the pizza looked real good. Sweet.
Spent the awake parts of the day catching glimpses of that Bin Laden tape, which was (a) disturbing, & (b) not nearly as interesting as I expected it to be. I don't know if I was expecting clowns on unicycles and revellers in the background, or what. Either way, it was still pretty messed up, though the rhetoric about it being a "smoking gun" kind of bothers me. If this is the best evidence we have, and obviously we've only recently obtained it, then why have we been bombing Afghanistan for over two months now? In other words, it seems like the government is saying that this is the credible evidence that they needed, though I thought I remember them saying that months ago they already had other evidence. Were we just going to bomb terrorist countries on hearsay indefinitely, or what? I'm not sure I get it, or I'm being all that clear.
Bin Laden's a douche. That's for sure. But so is George W., so we're back at square one, I guess. Damn cold pills, always making me babble incoherently.
Tomorrow, I start work on my pre-Grammy nominated album, tentatively entitled, "Stories from Concourse C". I had this great idea sometime last year to write all kinds of songs while I was spending ridiculous amounts of time in all those airports across the country. Only problem was that I kept falling asleep when I should've been thinking up lyrics. As a result, I have one song entitled "LAX", which none of my friends really seem to like that much, and nothing else but a bunch of whack-ass journal entries where I describe in detail what the people around me look like, and what I think they're thinking about. Fun to read if you're me, but no so fun to read if you're not me. One of those "you had to be there"-type-things. I'll be hitting a few more airports within the next few weeks, maybe I'll have time to pen some billboard hits. Whatev. 500,000 copies sold, and I'm out.
Not so thrilled about the sick thing anymore. Wish it would just go away. I've pretty much slept the day away, as have most of my other roommates. The new living room seems to be nap-indusive. Who would've thunk it?
I remember waking up from a wicked dream that involved myself, a Pizza Hut, a polaroid camera, and a meat lovers pizza to Matt watching a Pizza Hut commercial on tv and talking about how the pizza looked real good. Sweet.
Spent the awake parts of the day catching glimpses of that Bin Laden tape, which was (a) disturbing, & (b) not nearly as interesting as I expected it to be. I don't know if I was expecting clowns on unicycles and revellers in the background, or what. Either way, it was still pretty messed up, though the rhetoric about it being a "smoking gun" kind of bothers me. If this is the best evidence we have, and obviously we've only recently obtained it, then why have we been bombing Afghanistan for over two months now? In other words, it seems like the government is saying that this is the credible evidence that they needed, though I thought I remember them saying that months ago they already had other evidence. Were we just going to bomb terrorist countries on hearsay indefinitely, or what? I'm not sure I get it, or I'm being all that clear.
Bin Laden's a douche. That's for sure. But so is George W., so we're back at square one, I guess. Damn cold pills, always making me babble incoherently.
Tomorrow, I start work on my pre-Grammy nominated album, tentatively entitled, "Stories from Concourse C". I had this great idea sometime last year to write all kinds of songs while I was spending ridiculous amounts of time in all those airports across the country. Only problem was that I kept falling asleep when I should've been thinking up lyrics. As a result, I have one song entitled "LAX", which none of my friends really seem to like that much, and nothing else but a bunch of whack-ass journal entries where I describe in detail what the people around me look like, and what I think they're thinking about. Fun to read if you're me, but no so fun to read if you're not me. One of those "you had to be there"-type-things. I'll be hitting a few more airports within the next few weeks, maybe I'll have time to pen some billboard hits. Whatev. 500,000 copies sold, and I'm out.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home