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When the computer crashes twice, I guess that's a sign that I should move on to another task.
Still sick. I should find some way to gracefully handle sicknesses already. This one is actually pretty hard to get over. And sleeping is a pain in the fucking ass cause whenever I'm lying down, I start coughing. I really hope I can heal up before I leave for Vegas. I mean, so far, I've never been to that city healthy, so in a way it's good I got sick now instead of up there.
I still gotta lotta shit to take care of before I leave. 1) clean up this desk area or else mother will shit a cow. 2) finish that fucking movie review. 3) leave stuff for Kitsune. 4) arrange some fucking way to see "O" and Danny Gans. 5) financial matters. 6) say goodbye to everybody.
Fuckit, I'm sick, I refuse to stress over this now. I just wanna get rid of this cough and sore throat. In fact, yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm gonna quit starting from the 23rd.
I'm blabbing. I'm bored.
I missed episode 3 of the Real World. What the hell happened? I caught the tail end and all I saw was Ruthie with cucumbers on her eyes. If someone knows, drop me a line. Much mahalo for the go ahead.
New Star Wars figures: version 2 of Qui Gon, Obi Wan, and Darth Maul. Amidala in the funky red costume. And Rune Haako and Nute Gunray.
Two Mini-Me figures.
I'm so fucking broke.
I'm still bored. Someone entertain me.
Even the gym is boring. They closed off the entire chest and arms area until Friday. Not like I can lift anyway. I was feeling a little better so I went in and... Big mistake.
Is this entry boring? Even I'm bored.
5:32 am
Okay, I went to take a shit and while I was sitting on the toilet, I think I made a few observations. I think I'm just fussy and depressed. I'm in that stage of the cold where I want to do shit, anything, but there's gonna be some sort of side effect cause I just plain feel like crap. I'm scared to even go to sleep cause I know I'm gonna hack out into a coughing fit.
Definitely, after Vegas, I'm gonna cut down on the cigarettes.
That is if the world doesn't end. Thanks a fucking lot, Kitsune. That's what happens when he takes the Jag on his own initiative. He just scares the boogins and depresses the living shit out of us.
I'm not exactly the most superstitious dude on the planet so I'm taking Mr. Nostradamus with a grain of salt, although if the world does end, just my fucking luck that it ends when I'm about to leave for Vegas. You see? Something always prevents me from having a completely balls-out good time in Vegas.
I really feel like watching Armageddon again all of sudden.
Isn't there supposed to be some sort of Nostradamus clause or something? I mean, are we totally fucked or is there a way out of this? I mean, c'mon, there's gotta be a way out. Every single one of these armageddon deals comes with a "Chosen One/Keanu Reeves" thing that's gonna end up saving the world, right?
I know, that'll cheer me up. I'll be the chosen one. I mean, I'm sick now so I got nothing better to do really.
Blah. Shit. I really feel dumpy tonight. I shouldn't have decided to write but you know, I can't fucking stop now. Too late. This is a fucking car crash of a journal entry. You're just watching, going, "Oh God, he's not gonna continue, is he? Oh God... He's still not stopping." Hmm, interesting. A cyber-breakdown of sorts.
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Man, I gotta snap out of it already. I should just read my comics, my magazines, and my Raymond Chandler biography. I bought a lotta reading material tonight. I seriously have to cut spending. Either that or make a Machiavellian power play to steal Melonhead's job. I can't believe how much Melonhead gets paid to do absolutely nothing. I mean, Bill Gates is running the company and that's that. I can go take three hour lunches and four hour errands and just tell someone else to get their hands dirty.
Had dinner with Dental Chick and she gave me an idea for a prospective application. Must make a fucking life decision after Vegas.
I really should just be a slug for the rest of my life.
blah blah blah
Friday, July 9, 1999, 12:21 am
Okay, much better. Things are always much peachier after a vanilla latte and twelve hours of sleep. I might even go to the gym. I should work my legs but I'd much rather work my back. Besides, I'm ill and I shouldn't strain myself doing squats.
Boy, I was kinda fucked up last night. Then again, I just thoroughly don't react well to being sick. And this one is pretty darn odd.
Last week, shit was coming out of my EYES. Literally. They were red and puss and shit just kept leaking out. The pisser was, The Good Mother tells me that I caught it from The Coolest Kid On The Planet. I'm sorry but I'm changing The Coolest Kid On The Planet's moniker to Butthead, cause if she really was the coolest kid on the planet, she wouldn't have given me a disease that causes yellow crap to leak out of my eyes all day.
Ate dinner with Father. I think he gave me a $100 for Vegas. (Holy shit, Las Vegas is flooded! I seriously hope the streets clear up by the time I get there. I mean, I'm actually gonna be attempting to drive up there in a Plymouth Neon! Please please, clear up. I mean, even last time, I couldn't go on the New York New York roller coaster cause it was raining. And it's supposed to be the farking summer in a desert! Go fucking figure.) He actually gave me $200 but he wanted me to place a couple keno bets and pick up some chips for him at the Golden Nugget. Not sure exactly how how much extra dough that's gonna leave me.
One takes what one can get from kin.
"Kin" is one of those words that makes ya sound like a redneck, no?
Speaking of redneck, the Spunker BBS is getting kinda scary. I'm staying the fuck outta that one.
Daddy has a G3. Does everyone on this planet have a fucking G3?!
I'm gonna be gone for Eyes Wide Shut, Lake Placid, and The Blair Witch Project. Someone do the reviews for me, kay? I pay well. I'll give you a bunch of bananas.
What? Aw c'mon, you guys HAD to have seen that one coming.
The cross for the Blair Witch Project is pretty farking cool. They should start selling them. One of the directors was wearing one as a silver pin and it was pretty darn creepy I must say. I can just picture it though: Spencer Gifts is gonna sell em for $30 each or something.
All things considered, the crocodile in Lake Placid looks pretty fucking cool. My only gripe: if you're gonna make a movie about a monster that eats people in lakes, you may as well make it a sea monster, not something lame like a crocodile on growth hormones.
The sharks in Deep Blue Sea look real real kick ass.
Oh Oh!!! Garbage is doing the title song for the next James Bond movie! Finally, a choice I'm totally stoked about. I remember in a Spunker review of Garbage's last album, I thought "Push It" could've been a totally cool Bond song. They finally fucking listened to me. This website is not in vain!
Now if only I can get Will Smith to stop making movies.
Speaking of which, oh God, Wild Wild West sucked. Okay, it didn't really suck. It was just horribly mediocre, which can sometimes be worse than sucked. I mean, it could have been so much fucking better. I refuse to waste my fingers on talking about it.
By the way, if someone knows whoever sings that song that goes, "She loves me for me/Not because I'm friends with Leonardo/Or I'm tough like Dirty Harry..." or however it goes, lemme know.
In fact, even if you don't know, just send me an email anyway and tell me your favorite underwear brand or something, cause I'm just bored shitless.
