2003-04-07

I felt all weekend like Pop music was mocking me. So I dusted out all my old favorites from the CD collection and let Shirley Manson fantasies take hold, where we would drink stout beers and eat fried Mars bars and then vomit it all up (in order to keep our lithe figures) to start anew while Justine Frischmann mopes about outside wanting to join in. Later on by the pool we will joke about how the world fell in love with Pink�s hair but it was actually a hazing ritual we put her through while Justine dry heaves in the bushes. Also, Gwen Stefani�s wardrobe was a lost bet involving Jerry Hall and a blind pug named Jackson. The shock of unemployment has done strange things to my mind.

If you don�t know who those women are, shame on you. I should probably link them however, so shame on me.

I spent Saturday in bed. Sunday also. Roommate asked if I was sick. I told him, �No, just unemployed� to which he responded with the only way he knew how to comfortably show his feelings. A blank stare and a reminder that the satellite bill was due.

I hate Daylight Savings. It�s a waste of time since we are no longer on a farm economy and it screws up my sleep patterns. Plus I lost an hour of late night programming last night and I want it back! Who knows what modern invention I missed out on due to the guy on the $100 bill. Prove to me that it helps out anything and I�ll revisit the issue but until then I�ll remain bitter about it. Mainly because my supply of those Benjamin�s has been cut off.

Speaking of that, I have how to get a job school Today thru Wednesday. It�s going to screw with my new sleep patterns. But not with my new diet, which consists entirely of Entenmanns cakes. I happened to get my pink slip on the day that Safeway decided that 2 for 5 dollars on all baked Entenmann cakes would be a good idea. I thought it would be a good idea to stock up and thus have eaten half an All Butter Loaf. Mmmh, butter loaf. It just sounds like comfort food. I�m sure I�ll do some Benny Hill antics at job interview where I split pants and things. Plus Bobby�s can chase me about after I lewdly expose myself to a child and her nurse. As I finish up all those white boxes of empty caloric bliss I�ll no doubt resemble the late Mr. Hill. GAJS also means that I have to resume bathing and putting up a presentable front, which also seems tiresome. Fortunately I still have my pride, so I won�t be showing up in sweatpants, shower slippers, and a charity t-shirt.

I�m having dinner with my Mother�s parents and some people that knew me as a child. They are liberal democrats and no doubt I�m being paraded about their social circle as proof of the evil deeds of modern Corporate America and it�s benevolent godfather the Republican Party. Sister and Husband are getting out of this fun evening by having King�s tickets on Tuesday and are thus leaving the night before. I fully intend to get a pity lunch out of them for it.

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