11 November 2006

Saturday Night's alright.

Okay, I'm sticking with Blogger. False alarm.

But I may have to get off of MySpace. I think my entire high school is coming after me, like slow-moving zombies in a horror movie. (It may not look like they'll catch up to you, but THEY WILL.) Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of people I'd like to have updates on, but there are a lot of people I never, ever thought I'd encounter again. Like the guy who, the last time I saw him, had just taken a bunch of acid and was running laps around the library commons, being chased by the principal.

Can you see me right now? Because this is what it looks like to be making no progress on your freelance project. I just sat with A. for an hour and watched television. I don't hate television, I just hate aimless consumption of television programs-- when I engage in aimless watching, even by accident, like tonight, I tend to snap out of some kind of trance an hour later and realize I'm grinding my teeth and feeling a little nauseous. And seriously, it is all murder. Every channel. Real murder recreated. Fake murder. RED-freaking-RUM, folks. And football. There's also football.

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