|LoserNet Home | Index | Previous | Next Old Man Stories and Other Strange Tales|
Regular One - The Journal of ...
Note: This raw document is now the pathetic substitute for what was once a glamorous journal. This is all that's left. This journal is not edited to the usual LoserNet standards. It has been restored to "public" status after a brief hiatus. This journal should not be confused with the Journal of the Mind.
Sunday November 21, 1999
This just in! I happened to find the picture at right on, of all places, the Web. I am certain that it is the handmaiden. I'd say that it was taken in the Summer when the handmaiden obviously stopped going to the gym regularly. I wonder if she knows that someone has put up a picture of her derriére for the whole world to see. I perused the picture to see if I could find any telltale markings to verify that it was indeed the handmaiden. There's a birthmark or mole on her back along the right side as well as a few other obvious characteristics. Oh yeah, it's her. Who posted the picture? Mercedes Boy? Or, maybe one of the number of guys she's used and subsequently dumped since my time.
I am still a little taken aback by the discovery of the handmaiden's picture. Needless to say, I had to sedate myself with some fire water. I assume that there are more of these pictures out there somewhere. Everything is getting stranger by the day.
In local news, things are just as strange. I have yet to do anything about my devastated finances. Both "Mr. Z" and I are baffled by the situation with my comprehensive exam. Neither one of us has received a reply about what went wrong. The fire water has left me fatigued and anhedonic. In one week, I'll officially be another year older. Time is slipping through my fingers. Each day only brings more confusion.
Monday November 22
I submitted the photo to LoserNet Labs for analysis of which this revealing report provides substantial evidence that it is indeed the handmaiden. An undisclosed source provided the cryptic clue that led to the photo's discovery. Upon perusal, I saw a thumbnail of the photo in question. Even before I saw the actual photo, I had a funny feeling that I already knew who it was. Somehow, I have a feeling that I'll know all about this photo in a matter of days. More than I want to know. Someone is trying to tell me something. Even stranger, my cell phone rang a number of times today. I haven't had a call in over two months. The number did not show up in my log.
This is finals week at the business college. I have a variety of term papers coming in from those students as well as students at the university. Therefore, e-mail replies from the ol' lavahead have been slow. Three of my classes are having potluck feasts. So, guess who's going to be chowin' down for the next two days?
Tuesday November 23
Do I need more brewskis or some Viagra? The morning potluck feast was excellent. There was a lot of good food. We put up a "Do Not Disturb! Testing!" sign on the doors and locked them to keep everyone else out. By the way, sorry to anyone who received multiple copies of e-mail from the ol' loser. Apparently my LoserNet Administrative WebMail is somewhat useless during the day.
My virtual homey K (firstname.lastname@example.org) is back. Here is what he had to say about the latest bombshell from the handmaiden:
Interesting that you found a semi Hurdy-Gurdy of the handmaiden (Great name for her ... LOL). Perhaps this is a sign that payback does indeed happen? Perhaps an ex-flame has decided that the best revenge is not served cold, but served with a 56K connection and a cheap color scanner? Keep us informed.
I owe that name to Jason (email@example.com). I gave him attribution in the [UJ] archive a while back. And, Monica (firstname.lastname@example.org) wrote:
Been reading your site again. Great analysis on the handmaiden picture. What is a smart, goodlooking guy like you doing wasting away? Head over to the Silicon Valley, find an up and coming startup, wait it out for the IPO and cash in. Its very do-able, and often by people with less intelligence than yourself. IMHO
Not a bad idea. I could use a quick, cool million. Dollars, that is. In the meantime, I'll be working on adding the NetRadio House component to the LavaheadCam. I don't know. It might be too much for my pea-sized brain.
Wednesday November 24
A mysterious e-mail disguised as spam sends the ol' lavahead on a wild goose chase, opening the door to a seedier side of life never before seen. The players are all too familiar. The situation, all too real ...
My beloved cell phone has been ringing a number of times daily. Today, it rang over 25 times between 8am and 1pm. The log only showed one actual number out of all the calls. I used a reverse directory search to discover that the number in question belonged to someone named Kara in Haleiwa. Who is Kara? Something really strange is going on. It's all coincident with the discovery of the handmaiden's picture. Lizbeth, author of Cruel Love (at My Dear Diary) wrote:
Yes, sure looks interesting now that diary of yours ...
I wonder if [the handmaiden] reads it still, how often etc, and boy, how she will react to that!! Sure sounds like a bit of excitement to come.
All I can say is that the handmaiden must know who took the picture. She was always very self-conscious about her body. So, she never paraded around in any kind of thong outfit in public. That's what led me to suspect that there is a collection of pictures out there somewhere. Someone took those pictures. Obviously, it was a guy. Why the pictures ended up on the Net is open to conjecture. However, it would appear to be an act of vengeance. Actually, who is to say what kind of kinky crap she's into these days?
Two more of my classes had potluck feasts today. I never ate so good! Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day here even in Hawai'i. Moms has invited my bro's family over but she wasn't sure if my bro was coming. I seriously doubt it. There's already too much stupidity for me to worry about. I don't need to fret over this.
Thanksgiving Day 1999
I began my Thanksgiving celebration last night by buying a suitcase of Keystone and subsequently imbibing liberally. I talked with Darwin, another faculty member, yesterday in the computer room. He is divorced. His wife left him because he isn't wealthy. Sound familiar? It's a sad story. He's also the guy that I've wondered about since he always seems to be flirting with the babe students. We also discussed the plight of being single in Hawai'i and the nebulous nature of messing around with coeds.
In the past, I've usually given thanks on this day in a cynical way. Today, I just want to give thanks to all of my virtual homeys for keeping in touch. Seems like such a small gift but it means a lot to me. This is my only connection with the outside world. It is a lonely day for me and many others. Holidays are meant for family and friends. Single people are left along the wayside. Oddly, my beloved cell phone did not ring once. Strange contrast to the past few days.
I have become more dependent on the Web in a number of ways these days. So far, I have uploaded all of my hurdy-gurdy files to Web hard drives. Just kidding! I uploaded many essential files. I've also mirrored and distributed the LoserNet site over a variety of locations. Some of the files no longer physically reside with me. I was unsure of doing that at first but my mendicant nature eventually forced me to give in. Thus, if some of the sites were to shut down, I will have lost my files. Who cares? Were they that important anyway?
Moms has heard from her friends who have seen the handmaiden around clinging to her Mercedes Boy. They do yard work together, go shopping at the supermarket together, and so forth. Quite a different story from what the handmaiden has told me, eh? I have no idea why she continues to live a lie. I have no idea why Mercedes Boy is so attached to the handmaiden. Well, I do know. It's da wild thing. I have to come to understand that aspect of my own masculinity. It's also the handmaiden's secret weapon. One has to just read the [UJ] archive to understand. Which reminds me. I had a small box of memorabilia including photos from my first year with the handmaiden. I realize now that it meant nothing. So, I took all of it and dumped it in the trash. Welcome to the new Millennium!
My sister-in-law and nephew came by this afternoon for a dysfunctional family get-together. My bro had some lame excuse for not coming. It never occurs to him, I'm sure, that moms takes full responsibility for all of the family problems. Sometimes I look at my whole life as a total failure, not all of it necessarily my fault. It's just sad. That's one of the reasons I wanted to get married. I wanted a nice family life of my own. I don't surmise that will ever happen. It's too much to ask especially when one is poor. It's neither here nor there at this point. If you observe Thanksgiving, I hope you had a nice day.
Friday November 26
I talked with Lizbeth (author of Cruel Love on the My Dear Diary site) through Instant Messenger last night. This was the first time that I've talked with someone across international boundaries through this medium. In a way, it reminded me of the old days when the handmaiden and I used to chat through Unix-Talk. That's actually how we became friends. I am glad that I got a chance to talk with Lizbeth. I have made yet another new virtual homey.
I spent today in a drunken stupor. I'm beginning to see Lizbeth's point. I am my own worst enemy and I am keeping myself exactly where I don't want to be. I use the excuse that I'm "keeping myself in check." Oh brother. I oftentimes wonder why many people (including Lizbeth) believe that the ol' lavahead can do better. So, I also spent some time ruminating about what we talked about last night. Lizbeth also made a few points about the handmaiden. She believes that the handmaiden's original intentions were honorable. However, she is basing that belief from her own perspective. Frankly, I could never imagine Lizbeth perpetrating some of things the handmaiden did as recorded in the [UJ] archive. And, that's the difference. Even Mitch (email@example.com) commented:
Handmaiden seems to have opened up an offensive on ya, seems to me. Call me a paranoid, but I think this pic thing was orchestrated by her, to get you riled, kick your dander up a bit. She seems deadly. I have read your 'Journal of the Mind'. I have gotten rather alarmed by some of the BS she has put you through, to be direct.
The handmaiden is deadly. Nonetheless, I don't really know what to do anymore. I observed moms in her room doing her stretching exercises. She has been doing them with increasing frequency so I know she's in pain. That's just one of the many reasons I feel paralyzed and useless. Life seems out of my control. And, it's not my life per se. Sitting at home with nothing to do doesn't help. However, I don't want to take the bus anywhere and I don't want to drive. I feel like a high school punk when I'm driving around in my six-four. Maybe I should buy a Mercedes, eh? Yeah, right. Piece of [dung]! Baha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!
Another strange call on my beloved cell phone. This time, it was a number in Kailua. The reverse directory search came up with nothing. What the hell is going on?
Saturday November 27
Another Keystone day. So far, I've charged over $30 on credit for my Keystone supply this weekend. Then, I spent part of the day doing LoserNet site maintenance. I'm also preparing to restore the old pictures to the journal. Well, hey! They're a lot more timid than what we've seen lately, eh? I have also decided to petition for the forbearance deferment insofar as my loans are concerned. That will prevent any further problems but my credit card balances will just continue to climb. I have also decided to do the unthinkable. Get a real job? Hell, no! I have put my Bose Acoustic Wave up for sale. I will also be ridding myself of non-essential services like my damned cell phone. I have no choice. The insurance for my six-four is due and my beloved notebook computer's battery is shot. Last to go will be my six-four. Why me? I ask myself that every day.
Some unnoticeable changes have been made to LoserNet. It's all part of the general schema to integrate the various sites that now serve as the LoserNet empire. I'll have you know that LoserNet is the largest site of its kind yet no one reads it. The LavaheadCam will officially be added to the site very soon. It will be accessible from the journal submenus. Does it even matter? I haven't taken a picture in days because the digital camera's batteries were dead. The whole LavaheadCam idea was just an exercise in futility anyway.
No calls on my beloved cell phone, although Caroll called last night. We only talked briefly. As far as I know she's still selling cars and now lives in Daly City. I tried to call her tonight but no one was home. Since I had to leave for my big night (Wheee!) at Barnes & Noble again, I just left a message. Unbelievable, isn't it? This is what I call a big night on the town. After doing this rote activity for months on end, you can easily see why I have to drop back the Keystone like there's no tomorrow. Wheee!
That only leaves me with one subject to discuss. Babes. When all else fails, talk about babes. Wait, let me pop open a Keystone. Yep, when I drop back the Keystone, you are right here with me. As I stagger about the room, you stagger along with me. Just like the old days! One day, the LavaheadCam will capture these pathetic events. Back to babes. You know, I need to find a babe. One like in the photo (at left). Hubba hubba! Where did she get that blue dress? Can you imagine the ol' lavahead walking around arm-in-arm with her? I can't either. End subject.
I want to take this time to thank a few virtual homeys for writing recently. Mahalos to old friends JonnyX, Annabelle (in Netherlands), Ulla (in Finland), Paul (in Minnesota), Richie (in Canada), TeamJDC (in Cali), Barbara, the K, Dog, and also to Mitch, Lizbeth (in Australia), John (firstname.lastname@example.org), Steve (email@example.com), and Dan (firstname.lastname@example.org). Also, mahalos to John (email@example.com) for an early B-day greeting.
Sunday November 28
Well, it just another Keystone kind-of-a-day. Well, hey! I'm a Keystone kind-of-a-guy! I think my real problem is that I'm not a stud (or a "hunk"). The ol' lavahead just can't compete with studs like the clown in the photo (at right). One look at the ol' lavahead and ... heck, even I start laughing. It's that pathetic. I have a computer nerd's physique. No wonder I can't attract babes. Sheesh! I'm too old anyway. No matter how hard I work out at the gym, it doesn't matter. Let's put it this way, the Keystone is winning the battle of the (beer gut) bulge. For added humor, I may strike a pose for the LavaheadCam. Anything for a cheap laugh. What a maroon!
Aside from a babe, I can't seem to figure out what I want in life. I can live forever on Keystone and da wild thing. Man, I never knew that I was such an imbecile. Here's the problem. I want to amass some dough but I have no need for dough. Dough is only there to attract babes, or it is a means to attract babes. If I buy a a BMW Z3, I would be using that as a vehicle (pun intended) to attract babes. Add a nice house or condominium and the booty increases (in more ways than one). All of this is a charade to show babes that one can be a "provider." What a joke!
I finally got in touch with Caroll. She still seems to be on the edge. I can sympathize. She also mentioned that she may be able to get me a Z3 since the dealership she works for is affiliated with a BMW dealership in Hollywood. She will be able to get me a Z3 at three percent over invoice. Not bad, yet I have to wonder where am I going to get that kind of dough.
Monday November 29
Well, another unexciting day for the ol' lavahead. I almost bought a stale muffin and put a candle on it to celebrate another uneventful B-day. I wanted to do that for the sake of the LavaheadCam but thought better of the idea when I was overcome by grief. Yet, I consider myself fortunate as I have lived to be this age. Some have not been so fortunate. All the dough in the world would make no difference to me if I weren't here. It's too bad that I have to put up with this piece of [dung] computer. To really top off my B-day celebration, I cleaned out my e-mail inbox. I still have a few replies that are in queue. Am I livin' large, or what? Wheee! In case you get bored with this crap, be comforted in knowing that Anonder's journal is due for an update. Last month was a riot when he met up with some monks.
I should have told Caroll to order the Z3 for me. I could charge it to the numerous credit cards I have since each card boasts a 5.9 percent interest rate. Can you imagine the ol' lavahead charging $36,000 on 15 credit cards? Then, I would file for bankruptcy. Why not? That's what a lot of those rich turds do. And, the kick in the ass is that they get away with it. Sheesh! Finally mahalos to Ulla (firstname.lastname@example.org) and Tiina (email@example.com) for the virtual B-day cards, and to Annabelle (Annabelle.Parker@bureau.knaw.nl) and Aaron (firstname.lastname@example.org) for B-day greetings.
Tuesday November 30
I saw the handmaiden walking around town this afternoon. She was holding hands with a wimpy, balding guy with gray hair or what's left of it. To me, this spectacle and the odd appearance of the compromising photo only indicate how fortunate I am to have escaped that situation. I assume that he is the balding pilot. Neither he or Mercedes Boy are studs. They are rich, desperate losers. Concerning the infamous photo, Neal (email@example.com) wrote:
Glad to see you're keeping busy... interesting development on the handmaiden front. Boy is she gonna be pissed when she finds out (probably because the pic is less than flattering, not because she's semi-naked.) Didn't know she had the knock-knees - which speaks of poor nutrition in childhood. Like I said, interesting.
On another note, I'm not exactly sure what I'm going to do during the upcoming vacation. If the whole world is going to crash on January 1st, do I really want to be here in Hawai'i when it happens? Well, it's time to pop open a Keystone. Ahhhh! Don't let the smooth taste fool ya! Wait a minute. This is not King Cobra. Sorry. Let's see now ... what shall I talk about? As I walked out of the gym in my usual gym attire and sweaty as all hell, I ran into Yonie, one of my students.
"Oh my gawd!" she exclaimed when I waved to her. I can't quite describe her facial expression.
"What is this 'Oh my gawd!' stuff?" I asked out of curiosity.
"Oh nothing, that's okay." She smiled coyly and walked on
I'll get to the bottom of this curious behavior later. Rod called and left a B-day message. As you may recall, he and I share the same B-day. Finally, mahalos to Lizbeth, the K, and Neal for B-day greetings, and also to "John" who sent me a hurdy-gurdy virtual B-day card. Next year, I think I'll put a candle on a can of Keystone to celebrate my B-day. Yeah!
Wednesday December 1
I will be forced to start up the LoserNet Foundation soon. It's basically a new take on the Internet Panhandler. The foundation will solicit money and no one will get anything in return except the satisfaction that the money was given to a worthy cause. What "worthy cause" could that be? Well, how about the Keystone fund? Just kidding! In actuality, look at the value and innovation LoserNet currently provides for nothing. It's amazing, isn't it?
Well, I'm starting to lose my mind again. Island fever. I need to get away but the urge isn't as bad as last year. The strange part is that I am planning to fly to Oregon. Yeah, can you even believe it? In a way, it gives me the willies. I'm not sure if snowboarding will be part of the plans, however. If I go, I will stay for a week. I thought about going to Cali as well but I think people are tired of seeing me there. I'm also worried about spending more dough that I don't have. How will I ever afford the Z3?
To make matters worse, that damned RealPlayer is useless. Do I really have to give in to Bill and use Windows Media Player? Do I? So, I downloaded the latest version and here we go! Finally, I get to listen to House music. Sheesh! When life goes bad, I always wonder why I am denied babes. Babes like baby (at right). Is that too much to ask? Did someone accidentally put Viagra in my Keystone? To make matters worse, moms did not receive her support check from pops. That's what she lives off of. I have a feeling we're both going to be homeless soon. I might as well enjoy life while I can. There are hard times ahead.
Thursday December 2
Well, the toll-free number is finally operational. So far, no calls. I called pops tonight to find out what's what. The first round of chemotherapy treatments he went through apparently did nothing. He is scheduled to go through more chemotherapy treatments next week. It doesn't sound promising to me. However, I'm not going to second guess the situation. I also talked with Rod tonight. He has had his fair share of family tragedy. His sister passed away last month. His mother passed away less than two years ago. Now, he is contemplating a return to North Carolina. I assured Rod that I would see him in Cali before he left. And, the mystery of the hurdy-gurdy B-day card is solved. I talked with John in Modesto via Instant Messenger and he confessed that he was the perpetrator.
My pictures of babes seem to always cause minor controversy. Of course, I always try to use tasteful pictures of babe-next-door types. I might mention that the outfits the babes are wearing in those pictures are very similar to the outfits some of the coeds wear to visit their professors during office hours. Believe me, it's a mind boggling experience. Fortunately, I'm a monk. On this matter, Lizbeth (of Cruel Love fame) wrote:
That babe you have there is a dog! Looks like a tart. You can get that type easily enough..... (unfortunately get other things as well) What's wrong with nice girls? Why do guys like girls to look tarty? What you see is what you'll get. If you want one who is nice, look for someone who looks it.
Frankly, I liked those little jeans cutoffs that baby had on. Those would be ideal for the climate here in Hawai'i. We should make it a State law for all babes to wear those. Just kidding! I know I'm going to get hate e-mail now. Sheesh! Why is it that guys like those little outfits? Even I, a mere monk and eunuch, became somewhat distracted, if you know what I mean. Let's face it. Babes have very attractive features. On the other hand, guys, in general, have physiques that are not aesthetically pleasing. Heck, look at the ol' lavahead's physique. Yuck! I need a Keystone!
Friday December 3
That damned Windows Media Player is worse than RealPlayer especially for Internet radio. Well, I decided to stay in like a true loser tonight. To celebrate the occasion I bought some Bud Light. Believe me, it is no better than Keystone. I have more unnoticeable modifications that I must make to the various LoserNet sites. Before I forget, thanks to JonnyX for being the first person to call the LoserNet toll-free hotline! And, mahalos to Mr. C (firstname.lastname@example.org) for B-day greetings. I've got a feeling I'm going to meet Mr. C one of these days. He's the only reader of LoserNet in all of Hawai'i.
I don't know if I can keep up with the monk charade much longer. All I can think about is babes. I sure would like to move to a deserted part of Mau'i. Think about it. No babes. No handmaiden. That's Paradise! I also can't stop thinking about the Z3. The Z3 and babes. Can't have one without the other. Damnit! I forgot that I was supposed to go to Mango's tonight for some big party. Who cares? Am I going to meet any babes there? Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa! Do I look like a stud? Maybe I should spend the rest of the night scouring the Web for more babe pictures to include in the journal. Sheesh!
Remember the days when I used to have those one-man houseparties? It hasn't gotten any less pathetic. Now, I sit here with my computer. NetRadio House is playing on my beloved computer's one-inchers. A far cry from the Bose Acoustic Wave. The brewskis are flowing like water. Fire water, that is. For lonely, old losers like the ol' lavahead, the computer is our salvation. Where would I be without it? Not a day passes that I wonder whether I will always be tethered to my beloved notebook computer just to survive.
As you know, the ol' lavahead is planning to take the show on the road. Yep, the face of stone is making yet another journey. This time, back to Oregon. I used MapQuest to acquaint myself with Portland again. As soon as I saw all the street names, I could visualize the associated areas. That was part of the journey that brought me back here. In a way, I am apprehensive about going back to Portland. Of course, the LavaheadCam will cover the event.
I polished off about ten Bud Lights and a couple of Keystone. All in day's work. Such a waste, isn't it? Yet, what else can I do? What do I want to do? What do I want to be? Do I want big money only to end up the prey of someone like the handmaiden? Do I want fame to make me bigger than real life? Everyday I ask myself these questions. I can never find the answers because I want to live in a world that does not exist. An Utopian world. I want to live in a society that operates in harmony. This alone is a precursor to insanity. A sure path for me unless I can accept that perfection is impossible. The engineer's dilemma. That's why I'm a party of one. One-man houseparty.
Saturday December 4
I don't feel as though I have any time left. Even the slightest stupidity agitates me in such a way that I could explode into senseless violence. I am frustrated with myself because I am a peon. Had I even the foresight of taking my life slightly more seriously ten years ago, I wouldn't be in this mess today. I have no reason to be penniless and in debt. I just chose to let it happen. That's the primary reason I am denied babes. I am denied everything else as well. Why? I am economically disenfranchised. Really, it translates into the most disturbing fact of all. I am an idiot. Perhaps it's all due to the Bud Lights I dropped back today. Big headache.
Why can't I be satisfied like the other locals? Just speak Pidgin English all day and be someone else's "boy." I'll tell you why. The damned handmaiden had belittled me in such a way that I felt so puny. Now, when I see a lot of these rich turds, I want to jack 'em good. That's the only reason I work out at the gym. I have to become strong enough to apply the Sleeper Hold on any of those idiots. Sometimes I just giggle my ass off when I imagine some of these fools, arm flailing about as they gasp for air. Why am I gravitating toward violence? What has happened to me? I used to revel in my mendicance. Now, I despise it. I find it interesting that Anonder has discovered and embraced mendicance. He has learned the secret that I have long forgotten.
Why can't I just grow old gracefully and accept my lot in life? Why can't I be more like The Master? Only The Master has succeeded in maintaining a solitary life and his sanity. I believe that I will have to travel to Cali in Spring. I must confer with him soon. My own sanity depends on it. Finally, an e-mail from one of the sages confirmed that the mysterious photo is truly that of the handmaiden.
Sunday December 5
I've only grown more perturbed since yesterday. I tried to find solace in doing various houseboy and yardboy chores. Frankly, nothing matters anymore. It takes over 30 minutes for me to connect to the Net. No one knows why. I am drunk off my ass. My computer is a piece of [dung]. I can't afford a Z3. That really pisses me off. I have defaulted on my loans. And, I continue to live off of credit cards. Well, there is one thing that I have decided to do without waiting for the ax to fall. I will have nothing to do with babes anymore. I will never be humiliated or made a fool of again. Honestly, I don't need a babe to tell me that I'm a loser. I already know that.
What I really need to do is go into seclusion. After piddling around with NetRadio and finally connecting to the House channel, I was placated sufficiently to regain some semblance of sanity. I was really losing it there for a minute. In my anger, I disabled all LoserNet e-mail. Don't worry, the e-mail gets through ... somewhere. I can still send out e-mail. Isn't that great? What a maroon!
As I mentioned previously, I have been working on sprucing up LoserNet. Even a pathetically simple site such as LoserNet is cumbersome to maintain. Mirroring the site has been a difficult process since some resources are shared. In the final phase, all sites should operate independently. I have no idea why LoserNet is so important to me. LoserNet's 4th anniversary is coming up in February 2000. Yes, it's been a long four years and you have been here with me. Finally, the Lavahead Express has been converted to a brief on-line newsletter.
Monday December 6
That's it, I'm through. I have finally come to my senses by realizing that I don't need babes. Well, actually, I only need babes as friends. Platonic friends. The realization came to me after I had read the latest in babe-speak on Underwire. In the article "Ain't no mountain high enough: What a woman would do for love," author Robyne Curry sums it up:
In the animal world, the male of the species gets the brightest stripes, the most colorful plumage — the better to attract the attention and woo his lady love. The drab, colorless female has only to sit back and pretend to be interested. In the human world, romance is a lot like a job interview. Women put on nice clothes, fix our hair, add a dash of perfume and set out to dazzle. If we get the job, or a second date, we immediately map out our strategy to ensure our continued success. Men have no idea the things we do for love.
What Curry neglects to acknowledge is that the "brightest stripes" and the "most colorful plumage" in human terms are big bank, big car, and big house.
The real problem with being a guy is the total homophobic nature of the male existence. It prevents us from establishing necessary friendships with other guys except to share "war stories" or to one-up the others because of high-T overload. Naturally, cheap beer flows like water during these events. And, always hanging out with guy friends raises eyebrows and incites illicit rumors about sexual orientation. I'm tired of that crap as I am tired of the babe situation. I'd be happy to have babe friends. Ones that I could do things with and not have to display my (less than) "colorful plumage." The trouble is that babe friends don't hang around long either once the Knight in Shining Armor comes along. I don't care if babes talk about their boyfriends or their limerant objects of desire as long as it's not me. I want to be that safe ol' eunuch like I always have been. And, what about da wild thing? Heck, I can live without it. I spent most of my life in celibate anyway. Sheesh!
Tuesday December 7
"Man, I've got a hangover," Jesse said to me as I walked passed the outdoor Mexican cafŽ near the university. He was having coffee with a bunch of friends. "You haven't been to Mango's for a while. I haven't seen you there," he added. Apparently, Jesse has been going to Mango's frequently. He is a former student of mine and I guess he took it to heart when I used to tell the class about going to Mango's for Happy Hour.
Life has been a little hectic. I have another professor doing one of my Friday classes for three weeks because of an overlap in schedules. And, next week, I have to proctor a final exam for another professor because he is leaving for China. I may have some students proctor at least one of my final exams because of the conflict. I enjoy impersonating a professor. Frankly, I don't know if I can ever return to the real world of the wage slave.
Well, only three more weeks before the computerized world comes to an end. I've started saving the paperwork for my pathetic finances. That's about all I'm going to do. The whole situation will only escalate if the general populace of idiots perceives that there is a crisis. That's when the shooting will start. I say don't even try to walk over to a neighbor's house on January 1st. The damned idiot will probably think you are trying to snake his Vienna Sausage supply that he's hoarded in the last few months. Wait a minute! Maybe I had better stockpile some Keystone. Then, I have to go to the Internet Gun Shop and buy an AK. An AK-47, that is. One thing about the Internet Gun Shop. There sure are a lot of babes working there. Ho boy!
Wednesday December 8
The ol' lavahead has been extremely tired and fatigued lately. Heck, I didn't even make it to the gym today. Could it be all the nonsense he has to put with every single day? It could also be because of all the talking he has to do. My job is to talk. That's what I do for a living. Not exactly a great match for a shy, quiet, unassuming guy like the ol' lavahead.
As I rode on the express bus this morning, I saw a red six-four just like mine driving in the next lane. There was a gorgeous blonde driving. As it inched ahead, I saw that she had Washington license plates. That was the same babe who was driving along side me on that one night a few weeks ago. She must have been going to work. Whew! It's a good thing I'm a monk. Otherwise, I would have been forced to notice what a true babe she was.
I have no idea what I want anymore. I still have my Bose Acoustic Wave. No one has bought it. That's all I really need even though it's boxed up. I also need a Z3 but that can wait. Perhaps these so-called "needs" are a transference of pent-up anxiety. For example, I worry a lot about moms and pops. Moms was knocked down when a big dog jumped up on her the other day. The dog's owner was obviously a brain donor. It's nonsense like this that brings me close to snapping. All I know is that I'm ready to shave my head.
Thursday December 9
Finals week for the university is next week. To celebrate the event, I restored my monk haircut. I was starting to look a little shabby. Who really cares? I'm not trying to impress any babes or anything like that. Today in class, a student asked me if I thought I had achieved success. I answered eloquently about how I felt that I did. "Success, to me, has nothing to do with money," I prefaced. I continued on about why I like impersonating a professor. This position does allow me a lot of freedom. I am also the CEO of my classes and, therefore, do not directly answer to anyone. Essentially, I make the rules. That's not what gives me satisfaction, but it is the conduit that leads to satisfaction. Educational freedom also gives me the opportunity to discuss other pertinent areas of life which I feel are more important than rudimentary skills. I take a lot of time to try to discover any hidden talent as well as to nurture those who really care about their future. That may only amount to a small handful of students. I used to be disillusioned that I could not affect change in all of my students. It has made me feel as though I should resign because I was a failure. I have become more realistic in my expectations. I should know from my own life experience that I was no better than any of the screw-ups I see now.
It does take age to acquire wisdom, although that should not be considered axiomatic. There are a lot of dumb old guys around. Sometimes I am intolerant of others because I spend a good portion of my day expanding my awareness. Yet, in a way, I am just as ignorant. My growing intolerance is an indication. In the end, I am still learning. That's what life is all about. That's what I tell my students as well. In real life, I'm a failure. I can't cut the mustard. Does it really matter? Now I know why I need a Z3. I probably should keep my six-four as well. I have a dual personality. Well, hey! I'm a psycho!
Friday December 10
The rain started up today. By the time I returned home, it was really pouring. I was a little worried that I would not be able to get more Keystone. No, not that! So, I drove my six-four in the rain down to Foodland. I have yet to put the top back on, so I was soaking wet upon return. Not to worry, the Keystone will make up for it all. I had a long day. Today was one of those days that made me wonder whether I should just resign and go to work at Burger King.
And, it is a day like this that makes me certain that I will soon strap myself financially to buy a BMW Z3. If I can't have babes, then I must have a Z3. Fair substitution, right? Sometimes I wonder what makes the oversized cranium tick. I don't understand my thinking processes. Life is passing me by and I am becoming further entrenched in the monk ritual. What is going on? Perhaps I'm just too stupid to realize that life is precious and short. Or, maybe I've just given up.
Everyday someone asks the ol' lavahead whether he's married or if he's got a babe. Don't these idiots see there is nothing about the ol' lavahead that is appealing to babes? He has no personality, no style, no technique, no finesse, no money, no job, no car, and no life. The ol' lavahead is not even a man. He's an eunuch. No one knows who the ol' lavahead is and no one cares to know. The ol' lavahead is a nobody. Mr. Nobody. Baha! Ha Ha! Haaaaa! Can I get a witness? Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaaa!
I've got to find glasses like the one Woody Allen used to wear. Remember those? The black horn-rimmed job. Do you recall that movie where everyone took his glasses off, threw them on the ground and stomped on them. Sheer genius! Woody conveyed the frustration all true nerds like the ol' lavahead must tolerate. Sometimes I want to take my Coke bottle glasses off and stomp on them myself. The ol' lavahead. What a loser! Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa! Somebody get me a Keystone!
Did you know that a Z3 is the equivalent of 35 Bose Acoustic Wave units. That's right. When I put it in that perspective, I can see how much closer I am to owning the Z3. It took me over a year to save for the Bose Acoustic Wave. Okay, I can afford a Z3 in 35 years. Can you guess where I'll be then? Booyah! It's time to usher in the Millennium (although the real Millennium was about three years ago). LoserNet may go through a transformation. Then again, maybe not. What will the Millennium bring us? Chills run through my whole wimpy body at the thought. There is something lurking beyond the portal. Is it the sinister kahuna? I don't know. In some respects, I am scared. I am also relieved. If it is the sinister one, I may grapple with it for one last time. I'm going to pop its head like a zit. Then, I going to stomp its carcass into oblivion. "Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!" I'll laugh over and over again. "Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaaa!" The laughter will echo through the universe. The gods will laugh with me.
To be continued ... Go to M.1
© Copyright 1999. All rights reserved.