2005-03-25 - 10:39 p.m.
Friday. Today. This one should really be cake. Really shitty cake, the kind kids only eat the icing off of and adults beg off from by claiming to be full or on a diet, or both. Or maybe diabetic. You lying son of a bitch, I saw you eating a candy bar yesterday.
Riding to work with mom, she turns on the radio and they're finishing up a news story on the grunion run. They don't actually mention grunion in the part I heard, but since that station plays the same damned news stories about every half hour or so, and since it takes at least an hour to get to work I got the chance to be sure.
"You suppose they're talking about a grunion run?"
"I don't know, I wasn't listening."
What the fuck? I gotta listen to kogo news starting not five minutes into the morning commute, old fuckers and closet homosexuals (I'm talking about you, dude who owns the cats Vim and Vigor, get a divorce and give her the house cause you're living a lie) all espousing their annoyingly skewed versions of news stories, and she's not even bothering to listen?
Petty, though, considering she pays to feed me and house me, and got me a fairly easy job, none of which are any longer a legal obligation.
Get to work, early, fix the printer I'd set up the night before so it actually works and then proceed to do virtually nothing with it the rest of the day.
I'm remembering why I hated writing entries daily. I dislike the disinterested, convoluted and periodically bitter voice that inevitably creeps in when I talk about my life for any length of time.
