10 March 1999
7:27 PM: I dreamt that I came home and there was a folded note on purple construction paper taped to the front door of the house, saying "Apt. #3! No discort in this building! Call this number for spiritual help. I am experienced!" Then I noticed that there were all these stickers on the door around the note, specifying details about what was troubling my mind. Apparently written by the same witch lady. This was all more or less junk mail. The stickers were extremely specific, about how my heart had never gotten over Mary, and said that in fact she too still thought about me and if I were to call her, we could be reunited at last.
I woke up sort of slowly, and as I did I was thinking, "Wow! That was amazing! How did the witch lady know so much about me?"
Um. Duh. I figured it out after only 20 minutes or so. Whose dream was it again, then? Double duh with jimmies.
Snack!: Fig Newtons! There's a foot-pound of pleasure in every bite!
10:07: This would be a really good time to be logged in to some kind of chat board. Emphasis on "board" if you know what I mean.
It's not like I'm not finding anything to do. But it's mostly compile, test, fail, curse, change parameter, repeat. Not seat edge stuff. Frustrating, too. Why does it fail? I don't know. Do I really understand what I'm doing? Obviously not. "He was just an ordinary monkey - a monkey with a typewriter."
Well, I'm sure if I sat here and tried for a few minutes I could think of some things to complain about, but you know, I bet you could too. So let's just all sit quiet and think bad thoughts for a bit, shall we?
Willfully blind self-indulgent nebbish or amusingly quirky old coot? And how bout that local sports team? Discuss among yourselves.
All names are fake, most places are real, the author is definitely unreliable but it's all in good fun. Yep.
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The motto at the top of the page is a graffito I saw on Brunswick Street in Melbourne.