Prancin' Around Trying to Figure Out Who Should Be the Head Dork
Mon. sep. 16
I put 2 more ucla classes on my master charge. Five hundred and sixty dollars worth! One is Mondays on campus. The other is Thursdays at Universal City Walk. They are 3 units each. Upon their completion I should have enough units to move up a step on the Los Angeles Unified School District's pay scale. woo-woo. I'm not sure what that will do for me. Will I be able to afford a house? How about a washer and a dryer? Maybe pay off a credit card.
Hum. The Steelers are playing the Bills on Monday Night Football, and the Dodgers are trying to preserve their half game lead in the pennant race, against the Rockies in the madhouse that is Coors Field in Denver. I must see a game there one year.
What'll I do when I've completed these three pages? Type until eight o clock. It's weird. I mainly enjoy writing, but I only enjoy writing crap. If I think about the discipline needed to write well enough to be published, I freeze up. I don't enjoy it anymore. I wonder if I should take two different approaches to my two different classes: one in which I assert my potential, personality, ability, etc., and the other where I ask for help and seek guidance.
I bought this CDROM package (I'm a fuckin' junky for this worthless crap). It has these six games from LucasArts. One is this cool Star Wars where you wander around in first person and blast stormtroopers and stuff. Great point of view graphics, cool mazes and sets, challenging puzzles, good stuff, but when you complete three missions and locate the arms dealer you're looking for, it gives you the phone number to call to get the rest of the game. What a rip.
There was a program of dancing for Mexican Independence Day at school today. I ate some macaroni and pizza and orange chicken when I got home today. I watched a pornographic video with poor tracking that I took from the GIP's room, and I beat. Where is the magic in life? It's random and unpredictable and rare enough to be wonderful, it's got to be. I smoked one puff from this marble pipe the dirtweed Shirelle got from some gangsta a few blocks away. I have a sore spot on my gum near my left bicuspid. I want to drink some Gatorade. Chirs Spielman plays for Buffalo now. I took Adventures in the Skin Trade off the shelf. I finished and enjoyed Strange Pilgrims last night, G. G. Marquez. I've still got to finish Richard III. I think it sucks. These fucking nobles prancin' around trying to figure out who should be the Head Dork.
What else? I need to straighten out the right side of my desk. You're mom wears a goatee. I just met a woman in Pittsburgh before the Pirates game at a little sports bar. I told her I was trying to meet the most beautiful woman in Pennsylvania. She inferred that I was only after sex. I said, "Well now that would be a little too much to hope for, wouldn't it?" And I tried to make my eye twinkle.
I put 2 more ucla classes on my master charge. Five hundred and sixty dollars worth! One is Mondays on campus. The other is Thursdays at Universal City Walk. They are 3 units each. Upon their completion I should have enough units to move up a step on the Los Angeles Unified School District's pay scale. woo-woo. I'm not sure what that will do for me. Will I be able to afford a house? How about a washer and a dryer? Maybe pay off a credit card.
Hum. The Steelers are playing the Bills on Monday Night Football, and the Dodgers are trying to preserve their half game lead in the pennant race, against the Rockies in the madhouse that is Coors Field in Denver. I must see a game there one year.
What'll I do when I've completed these three pages? Type until eight o clock. It's weird. I mainly enjoy writing, but I only enjoy writing crap. If I think about the discipline needed to write well enough to be published, I freeze up. I don't enjoy it anymore. I wonder if I should take two different approaches to my two different classes: one in which I assert my potential, personality, ability, etc., and the other where I ask for help and seek guidance.
I bought this CDROM package (I'm a fuckin' junky for this worthless crap). It has these six games from LucasArts. One is this cool Star Wars where you wander around in first person and blast stormtroopers and stuff. Great point of view graphics, cool mazes and sets, challenging puzzles, good stuff, but when you complete three missions and locate the arms dealer you're looking for, it gives you the phone number to call to get the rest of the game. What a rip.
There was a program of dancing for Mexican Independence Day at school today. I ate some macaroni and pizza and orange chicken when I got home today. I watched a pornographic video with poor tracking that I took from the GIP's room, and I beat. Where is the magic in life? It's random and unpredictable and rare enough to be wonderful, it's got to be. I smoked one puff from this marble pipe the dirtweed Shirelle got from some gangsta a few blocks away. I have a sore spot on my gum near my left bicuspid. I want to drink some Gatorade. Chirs Spielman plays for Buffalo now. I took Adventures in the Skin Trade off the shelf. I finished and enjoyed Strange Pilgrims last night, G. G. Marquez. I've still got to finish Richard III. I think it sucks. These fucking nobles prancin' around trying to figure out who should be the Head Dork.
What else? I need to straighten out the right side of my desk. You're mom wears a goatee. I just met a woman in Pittsburgh before the Pirates game at a little sports bar. I told her I was trying to meet the most beautiful woman in Pennsylvania. She inferred that I was only after sex. I said, "Well now that would be a little too much to hope for, wouldn't it?" And I tried to make my eye twinkle.
posted by johnz at 8:24 PM
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