Tuesday, January 11, 2005


Why Do We Have To Sleep?

I've got an offsite meeting dog-early tomorrow morning. By all standards, I should be asleep right now.

Tuesday night, my buddy Angus has roped me into his plot to repopularize the board game Risk. I think he's insane, but that could be the lemur living in my shoes talking.

My friend Mike has failed me repeatedly over the past week. Because of his disgraceful lack of attention to me, his best friend, I have yet to see either Hotel Rwanda or Million Dollar Baby at the theater. I may have to abandon him, and see the films by myself.

I can curl my tongue completely over itself, so the bottom is facing upwards.

Work is picking up, soon to the point when I don't think I'll be able to post at the office. I've got all-day meetings on Thursday and Friday. I hope they don't make me wear pants.

My tax forms are in. More of the White Man's Lies.

Were I to be reincarnated, can I look George Clooney? Or will I get stuck looking like Bobcat Goldthwait suffering from eczema? If it's to be the latter, who did I piss off in this life, and can I still shiv them in the neck?

If I have to write one more redundant essay on torture, I swear I'll chop off my fingers before they reach the keyboard.

Even now, the apes. . . are waiting. . . watching.

If I had a point to this post, I would have made it by now, don't you think?

I'm so fucking jealous of you right now.

How do you do it?
You're not insinuating that my life of luxury is wonderful and exciting, are you?

Because, if you want to know how I do it, I have two words for you: Tom Vu.

And now, you can have them watching you ALL THE TIME..

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