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There's some really interesting flashes of lightning coming from Diamond Head side. Interesting how lightning is actually one huge flash in the sky, not those jagged bolts you see in the movies.
Yeah.
And that's the highpoint of my day.
I'm bored futless.
I should be trying to get some sleep but I woke up at 6:30 pm. Then again, I have an excuse: I'm still fucking sick. I swear, no one gets sick more often than I do. I'm gonna really work at quitting smoking.
God, I'm so bored I really want to go to the gym. But that wouldn't be wise considering I tend to hack every five minutes.
From what I've heard, especially from Dental Chick, once you quit smoking, you never get sick again for the rest of your life. Yup.
If this is truly the case, even non-smokers should quit.
Monday, November 1, 1999, 9:03 pm
Boy oh boy, all things considered, it's only been two weeks. What the hell have I been doing?!
Umm, well... I finally kicked the cold. I swear, for a common, no-biggie cold, this one lasted a helluva long ass time.
Hmm... Then I... Then it's all a big blank.
Then after that, I ballooned my VISA bill badly.
Then I got a kick-ass watch for my Anniversary.
Then I had a shitty ass Halloween, but then I kinda psyched myself up to have a shitty ass Halloween cause Crabby Boba was coming with us. You know how some people aren't fat but they just have round faces so their cheeks are chubby? And especially if they're Crabby, you just want to squeeze those cheeks between your thumbs and forefingers until you feel the flesh in your hands slowly sink in. No? Must be me.
Then I tried to find pants. You see I need pants because I got a job. Kinda. From what I understand, I have an "interview" tomorrow, but from what my friend told me, it's not really an interview, more of a "come in and sign the papers" thing. Then again it's not guaranteed cause the boss might not like my height or something.
But anyway, I needed pants and the only place where I can get pants that fits me is the Gap. And of course, The Gap doesn't make easy fit black khakis. They only make relaxed fit black khakis and I need the easy fit damnit! How fucking hard is that? That's so fucked up.
Wednesday, November 3, 1999, 3:26 am
Lost that train of thought due to a computer crash. Who gives a fuck? I'm in an intensely bad mood. More of the same: Ball And Fucking Chain and wearing socks in her room, and washing my hands, and blah blah blah. Then there's the matter of simply getting my bag from her car, an unfinished Dennis Quaid movie, a thoroughly fucked up Halloween, and early this morning, I may have botched an interview, but then again, it was for a temporary monkey job just to pay the bills but who gives a shit.
Like I said, I'm in a really bad mood so you're gonna have to excuse the shit that's about to come in the next paragraph. Honestly, right now I wanna post it on Spunker cause the readership is larger, but then, that's not appropriate and spontaneously posting in a bad mood probably isn't a good idea.
Bryan Uyesugi, or whatever the Xerox killer guy is named, should be killed. He's should be the poster boy for the death penalty in Hawaii. Definitely electric chair; it's the most painful. In fact, he probably should've been killed a long time ago. You see, I have this theory about putting dogs to sleep: I feel it's wrong. "But the dog is suffering," the bleeding heart says. My view has always been, the dog can't talk. It can't tell you it wants to die, therefore, it isn't your choice. But I won't have any problem with putting animals to sleep if the same practice is done for humans. I know tons of wastes of life humans that are just simply suffering through their existence, and frankly, they should be put out of their misery. This Bryan Uyesugi guy is one of them.
What's even worse is, I found out one of the victims is a relative of someone I know.
I guess the big question is WHY? Me being the person that I am, I can't help but think, maybe the idiot learned it from pop culture. John Hinckly (sp? sue me?)? A copy of Catcher In The Rye? I'm sorry to fucking say it, but mass killing is hip these days. It's THE thing to do if you're a fucking psychopath.
The really sad thing is, I know deep down that movies are partially responsible. Chow Yun Fat walking through, calming blasting people into oblivion. Robert DeNiro and Val Kilmer AK-47ing their way down an L.A. street after robbing a bank. Hell, even I buy into it.
Guns don't kill people... Movies aren't responsible for people's actions...
I agree with both of the above. The thing is, depending who you talk to, I'm a rational human being. The two above statements don't apply to fucking loonies.
Which brings me back to killing Bryan Uyesugi. Must we get rid of action films, like say the title of this entry: Fight Club, as well as firearms, just for nutfucks like Bryan? I think the easier solution would be to simply kill the nutfucks. They say he was already THIS CLOSE to being committed to the loonie-bin. Shit, that should've been a sign already.
The cops sent in a negotiator to deal with him. Huge fuck up. This is Hawaii for fuck's sake. You and I know damn well that if we had a penny for each piece of shit HPD covered up, we'd all be driving BMWs. They could've killed him. He didn't have to be taken in alive. Suddenly NOW they decide to develop morals?!
The really sick thing is, Bryan was the xerox repair guy for Mom's office. And they hated his guts cause he was a grumpy, habuteru asshole. They even requested a replacement repair man. Even Mom's office was trying to make phone calls to have law enforcement just finish him already.
Then there's the other big WHY? I'm getting real sick of the loonie tune sob stories already. His mommy didn't love him. His prom date from high school stood him up. He can't deal with depression and get his prozac prescription filled at the same time. He's lonely and tired of whacking off to the Spice Channel on pay per view. His co-workers make fun of him behind his behind his back because he doesn't know how to match clothing colors.
Oh boo hoo hoo. World's smallest violin and it's fucking playing the entire catalog of The Cure. GET A FUCKING LIFE. All of these things always happen to losers because they ARE losers. It's all part of the food chain. But it can be avoided if these fuckers could be weeded out. As soon as some idiot starts exhibiting serious anti-social behavior, flag em and fucking put em in a box for the rest of their lives. If they wanna be so fucking useless and miserable, they can do it by themselves.
I'm rambling in a bad mood stream of consciousness.
Fuck. People should seriously stop worrying about whether their boyfriends wear their socks in their rooms. There's so many more important things to do in the world. Why waste time with utter crap like that?
The ironic thing is, I was gonna call Fight Club the best and at the same time, most shallow movie I've seen this year. And that's all I was gonna say, which is part of my standard joke/review. But the thing is, the reason I thought this entry was ironic, was that all that propaganda/guerilla acts of terrorism shit Brad Pitt sprouts throughout the whole movie was dumber than a box of chocalates. But at the same time, the movie looked really cool too and I had a real good time. Go figure. The creepy part is, what if Bryan was in the theater with me. What if he couldn't tell the difference? People like him, seriously ruin the deal for the rest of the world.
