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Hmm. If you look down two entries, you will see that Pitas takes the date and time from the system clock of whatever computer you happen to be using at the time.

Which is probably bad.

Okay, why does she even have that lever?

I saw Sara Stone today!

I had a pretty decent Holloween. There may be pictures later.

Content, once I get away from my parent's house.

the suspense. . .

Well, my boss thought it would be fun to give me a heart attack by forgetting to give me the day after Halloween off. He's like that. But he fixed it today. So that's all good.

But then there's this girl I work with who is a photo journalism major at MU. She's supposed to take pictures of these kids at a prescribed place and time Holloween night - and she forgot to ask off. So she's a little upset about this. Normally this wouldn't be an issue sience she's closing and I don't know how to close. However, she wants me to come in after she's done the vast majority of the work. I would get out at nine.

So I said yes. Der. I have a damn hard time saying no to these kind of things. I'm just so freaking servile. It's really kind of sad. I don't know if I'm really a selfless guy or just a dingbat. I suppose nine ain't so bad. And she said she had a bunch of other people to call. But damn, I wanted to start drinking early.

Another thing is that the dry cleaning place that I was going to take my stuff to thinks a week is fast. This means I'm pretty screwed in the clothes department. I think. I suppose I'll have about 24 hours to figure something out after I get off work on Tuesday night - but dry claning my own suit probably ain't one of them.

Will Seth have an overwhelming apocolypse of fun Holloween. . . ?
Will John tell Martha about his love child. . . ?
How will Batman and Robin free themsleves from THIS devious plot. . . ?

Find out next time. . .(or so). . .

Sick sorrority bitches piss me off.
I better get out of this library before they infect my ass.

From Neil's blog:

"Universalists think God is too good to damn them and Unitarians think they are too good to be damned."

--Thomas Starr King

Heh heh heh!

So I bought my Devil Horns.

I expected to go get a plastic thingy that you wore on your head with plastic red horns coming out. You know. For kids.

But I ended up buying these crazy ass "Foam Latex" painted horns that you glue onto your forehead. (The quotation marks are right on the box!) The woman I bought them from was wearing a similar pair. She also suggested I buy "spirit gum" which I cheefuly did. She gave me some quick instructions. However, the package mentions "spirit gum remover". I don't have any "spirit gum remover". She didn't mention any "spirit gum remover".

Plus, isn't "spirit gum" like the shit from the New York sewers in Gostbusters II??

So anyway, I am now with trepedition attempting to decide where on my head/face flesh to stick these thingys (Aristotle be damned). It's more challenging than you would think! I could put them on my forehead. Or on my temples, sticking out. Or similarly around my mouth like the dog-thingys in Ghostbusters. When dealing with the human face and there are all sorts of subtleties. Plus, I'm a profoundly vain man.

Here's something:

About four days ago I was hanging out at my parent's house. It was about 6:30 PM. A massive storm had formed itself just south and west of town - and proceeded to skim us.

The light outside grew strange. Red would be the best way to describe it. We live in a pretty wooded neighborhood - the backyard full of trees yellow and red now. They looked like they were glowing - the color uniquely theirs in the falltime becoming perhaps not different but more important in the visiual pool of relaity.

The house sits on a hillside - although I don't really think I realized just what that meant untill just now. The street curves up in a steep hill - from our front door we can sort of see into a valley that goes for a fair amount of scenic space - but ends quickly due to the hilly nature of central Missouri. This means I could see the storm coming - although it never really hit us full force.

There were these huge bulbous cloulds racing overhead - but what was kind of scary was the slate grey sky that existed infinetly beyond them - impossible to distinguish any clouds there it was obvious that was where the real storm was occuring. It extended from the horizon to about midsky over our house - on the horizon cloud to cloud lightning flashed and filled nation large peices of the sky - peices it had no right to at any rate - with flickering fury. There was no telling when the future of that horizon would become our present.

The boulbous cloulds continued to race overhead from the southwest, droping no rain but exemplifying the threat of that strange grey expanse by not doing the buisness of storming themsleves, as is thier usual accepted job. There was also a contingent of whispy clods off in one direction - it was like all the various stormy weather possible in the world had been cramed into our sky.

Then there was the backyard. I suppose our backyard faces the north and east, where the storm was not. It is also the place where a little spot of woodland tapers off in one direction - revealing pasture on the other side. So it is possible to see the sky of that horrizon - although it is sort of squeezed between the tree line and hill line and obscured by the fence that keeps cows from the Lincoln University farm from wandering through our neighborhood at will. This horrizon looked like a perfect summer day. Like if you just walked far enough in that direction it would be not only a different weather but a whole nother time of day over there.

So we were there suspended somewhere between storm and calm and night and day. It was while I was staring off into the sunny side that a lone deer wandered accross the field - close enough to be vaugely aware of my presence - making the whole surrel half-scene look even more pastoral by comparison.

So it was pretty interesting! Within the half hour the whole sky was simply nightime with a storm threating. A normal, accepted form of sky.

I think I'm outta juice.

This was a little nightmare I had about three nights ago. I hope it hasn't become stale in my mind.

Really, there's not much to it. Not enough to write it as a narrative or anything. However, it was rather intense, for me.

I remember images of the streets of downtown Annapolis, flowing into other locations, locations uniquely merged from other places in my mind - I don't know about you but my mind does not often invent locations out of whole cloth, and may not even be able to. Things were grey and almost rainy, but on the sunny side of rainy. Events became large and dramatic, but somewhere out of the line of sight. Narrated. The invisible plot started having the feel of a science fiction epic - something intense and intricate but not breathtakingly insightful - my first thought would be of an Orson Scott Card or Frank Herbert book. Apprently a male protagonist existed somewhere outside my line of vision, someone I identified with as myself, although the dreamer looked on from elsewhere. The narration turned female, we were somewhere between generations - the first pages of the unexpected sequel or the conclusions of the first. My personage had become an old man, somehow relying upon a machine for life support - somewhere in the Jefferson City Library where I had one of my first jobs.

Though the person who was me's life was being artifically enhanced, it was clear that he was on his death bed. Upon his death, his mind would be copied into the computer that helped keep him alive - but this was far from comforting for him or me. Suddenly the woman's voice - who would be the protagonist of the next generation should it find existance - rang in my head as clear as is possible in dream state -

"Electric existance is one thing,
pulminary, another."

My heart began to race thubthubthubthub and I made the transition form sleep to waking.

I was weak upon waking, and felt the way I've felt for the last few years - my left side weak. I checked the location of my cell phone in case my condition worsened, but waited out the feeling - got up an paced around untill I expelled the gas from my chest and felt relatively normal.

So I guess that's all.

If writing is going to be a major part of one's life, you have to write even when you don't feel like it.

Like right now

Either I got too much sleep or not enough.

I have horns!

roll over!
food now