My Journal Entries...



Mar 31 6:03 am

So, you know what I just love? (of course you don't).

I love getting people to do stuff that is abhorrent to their very nature. Like today for example. I was sitting in my room watching a guy that's moving into the building throw out his old furniture. This one table in particular caught my attention, it was small, wooden, and white. It looked the ideal size to be a "printer" table, a planter, or an oversized beer coaster for the balcony. Just gotta find me two chairs that match. I was thinking I could "probably" pop down and grab it myself, but really didn't wanna be seen digging through the trash. Now usually this isn't an issue for me, if I see something I like I don't think twice about just grabbing it. I have my dignity, but if its free damnit... its mine. Did I mention I found a wet vac when I moved out of my last apartment?

So I piss around and eventually end up at Greg's. Once I know Daria is home from work I phone her and plead with her to go out and grab this table. But damn, did she fight a tough battle or what. First she begs me not make her go, then she protests, then attempts to rationalize, and finally decides against it, AKA Resistance is Futile. You will be assimilated and you will go garbage picking. I phone later to find out that the table was in her own words... "disgusting", so I think nothing of it. Greg talks to her later, and insists I really want this table after all (a total lie). So the poor baby runs back out to the trash and gets the table.

Greg and I were on the floor lol'ing at the thought of her digging around in the garbage in her faux poodle fun fur, and her platforms and HUGE rhinestoned sunglasses. The neighbors probably thought she was either a transvestite on the skids, or a bag lady of unknown origin. So basically I now have this hideous, old, mold-covered table in my foyer. And I'm curious as to how long it will take me to convince her to "just run that back out to the trash, would you?" *snicker*


I slept from midnight to 3am, and then spent two hours blasting my skull with Filter over the headphones, at that point I decided it was best to just come home and dish the shit with Exodus on AIM... which I'm doing right now as a matter of fact. We're swapping pics and shattering all illusions about each other... can you believe SHE thought I was BLONDE? Giving her one severe, albeit forgiving, stare from under a heavy lidded lash. But then again, for whatever reason, I thought Ex had long curly hair. So fair's fair. But blonde? Really now hon.

Speaking of blondes. :) Noah sent me a pic of his new hair... or lack thereof, and I tell ya... some people can wear a bald head, and some can't. Noah can, he looks like a little elf. You know the kind, the elves that live in the forest and will suddenly fill all yer pockets with gold and grant you three wishes. That is if elves do that stuff or not, I'm not entirely certain. But if Noah was an elf, then HE would be the kind of elf that definitely would do it, damnit.


So I guess I'm just biding my time till I go in to work now. Maybe I'll get a early start and watch all the freaks at Starbucks. But I'll def go incognito. I'll pose as someone that is middle class, just knew that briefcase was good for more than just holding bottled ice tea. And I'll lay low and watch em. If we are to takeover, then we must first know their behavior patterns. I'm thinking I already know them....

***Birth, School, University, Marriage, Kids, Taxes, Mortgage, Death*** (not necessarily in that exact order, mind you)

Lather-Rinse-Repeat. (in that exact order)

I'm getting silly, therefore that's my cue.... laters.

PS: Rodion... yep, I'm still reading it. :)

back - forward