The ol' eunuch continues his lengthy diatribe about his self-imposed monastic existence or non-existence, whichever the case may be.

Cibavit Eos Ex Adipe Frumenti

What exactly is the message here? Sometimes I don't even know. But, I am compelled to continue. There is a new agenda now. I must begin divesting myself of this existence, humble as it may be, and relegate it to the past. Perhaps, that is why I have had a difficult time doing things like Matt's weekend trip only days away. I remember the time I was perturbed when my homey Bart came into town and never showed up where we were supposed to meet. JaneMarie, an aerobics instructor who also knows him well, explained it by saying that he has a difficult time saying good-bye. Maybe that is what I am experiencing here. I can't get too close to everyone when my time is coming for me to leave. Sometimes it seems as though I have a real disdain for everyone, but I love my friends dearly. They have done a lot for me when they didn't have to. And, frankly, I didn't deserve any of it. So, this is my tribute to them, in all their foolishness, just as is my own folly.

As for babes, what can I say? They have their own agenda. I can't blame them if they don't want to associate with a loser. It is because they are too concerned about finding Mr. Right. And, the paranoia that all guys are after one thing causes them to lose sight of reality. Such is the confusion called life. But, I have my Bush's baked beans. I have my cans of tuna. I have my six-four. And, I have my computer! That's all I need! Onward we go with more adventures of the ol' eunuch!

I have been fortunate to have received an influx of nice e-mail lately. I'd like to thank nnorder@utkvx.utcc.utk.edu, kevinj@kevinj.seanet.com, frankjan@cadvantage.com and lpowers@ag.gov for the kind words of encouragement. It makes me wish that I could keep the journals going forever.

I have been on the computer almost all day. I am almost delirious. Today was spent mostly on the Mac. Unfortunately, the Macs I have been working on probably have the bare minimum of memory so many of the applications were locking up on me. Well, so much for trying to put some graphics on these bare LoserNet pages. The plainer the better anyway. Well, hey! I'm a mendicant monk! I am getting more proficient with the Macs. Just call me Mac-daddy! Just kidding! The only true mack-daddy is The Bull. Fortunately, I took a much needed break from the gym today. After the way all the buzzards were soaring around yesterday, I knew I didn't need to be there. I should have known, though. Valentine's Day is just around the corner. Everyone is getting a little anxious. It's just another day for me. Well, actually, it's a day of mourning as you may recall the Secret Admirer fiasco. V-Day also marks the official start of Spring Fever. Yeah, there's going to be a lot of soaring then. Lord have mercy!

It was extremely quiet last night when I got in at ten o' clock. A reprieve, I thought to myself. But, at midnight, there was a knock on BigFoot^tm's door. I thought it was his chewin' tobaccy buddy, but it was some babe. He then spent about fifteen minutes moving furniture around. Then, it was quiet. About a half hour later the floor started creaking. It was about 20 seconds of what I assumed to be the wild thing on the floor. Now, from what I can tell, BigFoot^tm either has mastered the Kama Sutra or he only lasted about a minute total. You know, I may be wrong but I do not think that baby enjoyed that experience. What do you think? Actually, I am glad that BigFoot^tm's stamina is low. I didn't want to listen to that for two hours, especially if baby really got into it. It's not that the wild thing is an unpleasant reminder of my loser existence. I just want to get some sleep. Sheesh!

Why is everyone worried about the wild thing? My homey Skip and I were having a discussion last year (when he was trying to persuade me to join the babefest). As I was telling Skip, I just don't understand this fascination with the wild thing. It appears to be very messy ... what, with all that sweating and everything. That's why I am a clean eunuch. Fortunately, I do not have to worry about any of that. For me, the wild thing is trying to come up with new graphics for this site. Well, hey! I'm a monk! These are the monk years!

The gym was much more crowded than I expected so I didn't get much done. The regular cast was conspicuously absent, no doubt because of tomorrow's adventures. In a way, I yearned to go with them but my nerves would not have been able to withstand the foolishness.

I talked to Steph a couple of times today. I wanted Tom, Steph and I to get together sometime. She has some reservations about doing anything with my homey Tom because (I would assume) she does not want to encourage anything. Ever since we all went to Bryan's farewell party and several people asked about whether she and Tom were an item, she has been apprehensive about the whole situation. Steph also tried to persuade me to leave my phone plugged in. Well, you know what my answer was to that. Then, later, I stopped by Big John's place. He sent me a postcard this week probably because I had not seen him in almost a month and my phone is not plugged in. He has told me that his buddy, the extortionist, is causing him a lot of pain and suffering. The court documents were real apparently, and it appears that the case will go to trial. What a crazy world! All I know is that it is 80 degrees and sunny in Honolulu!

Today was the day of the big trip, and there should be some interesting anecdotes. I found out from Mike (the guy who took the armadillo pictures) that the Cardinal was going to pay for all of my expenses if I had gone on the trip. That was a nice gesture but I did not feel that was right. I really don't know why people would do that for the ol' eunuch. Maybe I should have gone, as I was treated to another 20-second Kama Sutra session courtesy BigFoot^tm. He needs to practice the squeeze technique. It's a good thing The Bull wasn't here or he would have gone upstairs and slapped BigFoot^tm's head.

It was really just a quiet day for the ol' eunuch. I spent most of the time working up some new graphics. Then, it was off to the gym for a nice quiet workout. My homey Tom and I ended up having dinner at The Firestone Café and coffee at Starbuck's. I tried to get Steph to join us but she was not in the mood ... well, you know why. It is sad how the mating game seems to throw a wrench into the works. Things just seem to go haywire after that. It amazes me that we live a few short years and spend most of that time in mating chaos. Actually, it's more like a feeding frenzy. It really is puzzling ... just about as puzzling as why BigFoot^tm came home at 12:30am and turned the tube up full blast for five minutes. Equally puzzling is why his babe puts up with his twenty-second performance. But, what do I know? Twenty seconds with someone like The Bull is probably worth more than five hours with some eunuch. Sheesh!

My extended hours on the computer have accentuated my delirium. That is how understaffed we are here at the Immaculate Roach. Thus, even e-mail is behind schedule. Speaking of which, I'd like to thank johnj@sojourn.com, atapaz@apache.webstar.net, and FrostbiteX@aol.com for writing in!

Today is about as good as any for that long awaited seclusion. I have moved my beloved chair into the bathroom. The leaky faucet will serve me well in the capacity of simulated water torture. The slow, laborious drips should really enhance my seclusion experience. Fortunately, the phone line is long enough for me bring my notebook computer in with me. Maybe I'll be able to catch up on e-mail. I just hope that Mrs. Idiot doesn't slam the shower door into the wall when I have attained the elusive transcendental state (that could easily be mistaken for a catatonic comatose episode).
 

Well, so much for seclusion. One of the imbeciles on the third floor has been running the water almost continuously. This has created some kind of vortex in the plumbing. So, my commode has been gurgling and splashing the water out of the bowl. It's a good thing I didn't put any Toilet Duck in there. Can you imagine the ol' eunuch sitting there with the gurgling toilet splashing water all over the place. BigFoottm got into the act and started throwing his farm implements around on the floor. I could see my hands starting to shake, so I went to the (computer) Lab. Nothing is more relaxing to a computer nerd than being in the Lab. It's like a Club Med vacation to me!

It's a good thing I didn't put any Toilet Duck in there.

I took a short break from my Club Med vacation at the Lab and went home. BigFoot^tm was having a hoe-down up there. The farm implements were being tossed about everywhere. There was a huge puddle of water in my bathroom. Apparently, there was a gusher while I was gone. I try to conserve water by not flushing most of the day. So, you can imagine how happy I was when I had to clean up the mess. I'm about ready to visit all the tenants in the Roach Motel and force-feed them some Toilet Duck. I called Steph to see if she was up for some coffee. I know Tom called her earlier in the day. When I called her, she still had not gotten around to calling Tom back. So, I had to continue my Club Med vacation back at the Lab.

After another fun-filled day like this, you are probably wondering how I do it. I mean, can anyone have this much fun and live to tell about it? Well, the ol' eunuch is living proof of that. I was dreading returning home to a full-scale hoe-down, but all was quiet. I can't even believe it myself. All I need now is just one ... that's all ... just one babe. Just kidding! See what sleep deprivation can do?

The (long overdue) major storm has finally hit. Flashes of lightning and the rumble of thunder could be heard all morning. The power has been on and off several times. It certainly is a good day for reflection.

I have had recurring thoughts about what I am doing here, not necessarily here in the Roach Motel, but in life. Here I am, a middle-aged guy, doing absolutely nothing. I am significantly in debt, I have no IRA, and I will have no retirement funds. I have about twenty so-called productive years left, and look what I am doing ... sitting in a place the size of a shoebox, writing a journal on my notebook computer, and having a cup of coffee made with my broken French Press. Instead of working on my book, I was distracted by the levity of working on some new graphics for this site. The graphics don't change the content. It just makes things look better. That's what it boils down to ... looks. I have also entertained the idea of putting in some applets to add to the fun. But, after taking all day to load, it would only appeal to the senses for a few seconds. Then, poof! It's over. It's like the babe situation, isn't it?

Only Ray and The Bull were at the gym today, out of the five that went on Matt's trip. There were close to twenty going originally. Ray told me that, when they were having lunch at the lodge, three babes were checking them out. Matt went over and asked them which (out of all the guys) would they like to go out with. He told me to ask The Bull what happened next. The Bull repeated the story.
 

"So, they all picked you, right?" I asked (for clarification).

"Well, yeah," he replied matter-of-factly. Then, he delivered the punchline. "And, I hadn't even eaten yet and I wasn't feeling too good."
 

So, there you have it, ladies and gentlemen. The Bull, on his worst day, can beat out anybody! This man is a legend. To top it off, he bought one of those neoprene knee braces and put it on before going to Yalda's class. After I saw that, I knew I wasn't going to take the class. The Bull set up his step behind Jennifer, the babe he wants bad. No doubt, she and the other babes will be giving The Bull endless attention after he tells them about his skiing injury. The real question is ... why didn't he have the brace on for the hour he was roaming around the meathead room? The Bull was also checking out some babe who was working out with her stud. I told Jimbo that maybe I should go up to her stud and tell him to wrap it up with baby because he doesn't have much time left.

Fortunately, I got outta there. I came home and broke out the Bush's baked beans. After a hearty meal, I was off to the Lab again. It was time for Club Med, my way. Lord knows I need it.

I was reading a relatively new Web journal yesterday about a guy trying to find a babe. He finally got up the nerve to ask baby out, and then she told him that she "kind of has a boyfriend." Now, what exactly does she mean? Is he a virtual boyfriend? Does she have a computer? Semantics can wreak havoc on the mind. You see, I don't kinda have a job. I'm unemployed. I don't kinda have money. I'm broke. I don't kinda have a life, either. Well, hey! I'm a loser! It would be better if baby replied, "I don't know," because she really doesn't seem to know if she has a stud or not. Even the ol' eunuch would know if he had a babe! Sheesh!

Speaking of losers, I have not seen a trace of Loser, which leads me to believe that he has moved out. I have been waiting to deliver my State of the Loser address here but it looks like I will be facing the public with a heavy heart. Perhaps I should have disclosed to him that he was an international celebrity. In the few times I saw him around, he looked terrible. Maybe the babe situation was getting him down. What else could it be? Maybe someone complained about his pacing. Maybe "stooge" disassociated from him. Maybe he tried to ask a babe out and she told him she kinda had a boyfriend!

I didn't make it to the gym again. I was having too much fun in the Lab. I've spent the last few days primarily on Macs. Am I just having too much fun, or what? Well, these are the monk years! I spent a good part of the evening working on Steph's computer. I finally got InterSLIP to run. Everything ran well except for Telnet. I should have that up in a day or so when I snake another Preferences folder. I will probably sleep well tonight knowing that I did my job as a computer nerd. Those hours in the Lab have paid off.

The two cylinders have been slamming the doors all morning next door. Well, I should say it is Mrs. Idiot. It wouldn't be so bad, but I was having a nice day until then. I almost yelled, "Shut up, you stupid fat pig!" But, I am a monk now. I wonder what they would do if I did. Can you imagine if tubby came over and tried to chastise me? Baha! Ha! Haaa! I would knead them both like bread dough and make little biscuits out of them. Then, I'd shove 'em in the oven to bake!

I actually got a real workout in today at the gym. I did my meathead routine and then took Tam's class. The Bull was conspicuously absent today. Both the Cardinal and I thought that he would be in late to take Tam's class. It seemed like the whole gym was in a slump because The Bull was not there. Tam didn't even seem enthusiastic about teaching today. That is the mesmerizing effect The Bull has on his public. The Cardinal mentioned that The Bull was wearing his neoprene knee brace yesterday, too. I am sure that several babes have volunteered to help nurse The Bull's knee back into shape. That was probably where he was.

I stopped by Steph's place and got Telnet working and installed a newer version of Netscape, so everything is on line. When I arrived there, Steph and her friend were on Netscape (old version) looking at the LoserNet pages. She was trying to locate the sections where I mentioned her. She is the first person from the cast to have read these journals. We ended up at the Juice Club later for something cold to drink. It has been almost 80 degrees here, and that's at night! It's another heatwave ...

It must be the heat ... because my nerves are shot! What else could have caused that outburst of irrational thought about The Idiots yesterday? Please find it your hearts to forgive the ol' eunuch. He should have known that he is the low man on the totem pole. He must be ... that's how everyone treats him!

Both my homeys, Skip and Fullcan, contacted me via this medium (of course) yesterday. I will have to plan a field trip now for sure. Say what? Are you invited, too? Of course! You will be there with me just like when we all went to Hawai'i! Skip has still been trying to persuade me that I need a babe. In all these years, he has not realized that I am invisible to babes. Sheesh! Speaking of babes, it has been a babefest today. Because of the heatwave, all the babes have been wearing skimpy little outfits, not that I noticed. Well hey! I'm a monk! But, we all can expect that The Bull will be on a rampage today.

I tried to go to the gym today. However, I never got there. Well, I was there but ... I couldn't find parking. That's right. I spent 20 minutes and about two gallons of gas waiting for parking. And, people were zipping around me taking any spot that opened up. The same thing happens at the Post Office everyday. It is now the free parking lot for downtown. The lot is full but the Post Office is empty. People drive like maniacs in there just to get a space. All I want to do is check my mail. But, you know, I am the low man on the totem pole. Since it was also Farmer's Market tonight, I knew no one would be at the Lab. So, it's off to Club Med for me! And, that only means one thing. Yup, it's time download the new version of Netscape!

The heatwave is over, and so we must get back to the business of Winter. Have you ever wondered why Valentine's Day is in the middle of Winter? The answer is ... to offset those hot cinders of passion waiting to explode into flames of wanton debauchery! Just kidding! Babes seem to get a little anxious at this time of year. For losers, it is just another day at the Lab. And, maybe Sports Illustrated will treat all the losers to another swimsuit special on V-Day like last year. That is a very thoughtful gesture. I mean, if you are not a monk and are laying low at home on V-Day, isn't that the last thing you need to see? If anything, there should just be a Hogan's Heroes marathon.

Babes aren't the only ones doing weird things. I have noticed that a lot of the guys are capitalizing on some of my trademarks. Mike (not the one who took the armadillo pictures) has been wearing his shades in the gym lately, and I have noticed that he tries to work out near the babes so they will comment on it. And, when I bring the Zingers and the Ding Dongs, the guys try to conspicuously eat them around the babes to attract attention to themselves. Ironically, some have accused me of doing the same thing. But, the babes never notice the ol' eunuch. I only do what I do because that's the kind of nut I am. In a nutshell (Baha! Ha! Haaa!), babes are a 24/7 thing with guys. There is virtually never a moment that a guy is not doing something to get the attention of babes. I am glad that I am a monk.

It was quiet at the gym tonight. The Bull and The Cardinal were conspicuously absent. I'm sure that The Bull will be at his club, Mango's, tonight. I noticed that a certain babe was going through yet another session with the trainer. There are several babes who seem to go through the same training session every week. Why don't they ask the guys (trainers) out already? Sheesh! I returned home to partake of the Bush's baked beans. It took me all of five minutes to prepare it and eat. That was at seven. The slammin' soirée was already going. Over an hour later, Mrs. Idiot was still slammin' away, making a nineteen-course meal for her and Mr. Idiot. There are only four drawers and three cupboard doors in the whole damned kitchen. Why not take all the crap out at one time? Mrs. Idiot probably has a Richard Simmons video on, and is doing kitchen aerobics. What does that burn? Two calories? I burn more calories getting mad listening to all that slammin'!

It was Homicide and coffee tonight at Big John's. Otherwise, there may have been a real homicide at the Roach Motel. Some clown was making crank calls all night to Big John. We suspected that it was the extortionist. After the third call, I decided to handle it. So, every time the loser called up I talked to him about ... well, it had to do with the chicken. I knew the imbecile was using the mute key. His finger slipped off it once and I heard the tube in the background. All I can say is, what a loser! I happened to see the news clips from Oregon and thus, I saw what reader madamex@teleport.com was describing. We were supposed to have rain, but now I hear that we will have another heatwave. You know what that means! Lord have mercy!

Here's an interesting quote:

"The soundtrack to Indecent Exposure is a romantic mix of music that I know most women love to hear, so I never keep it far from me when women are nearby." --Fabio
 
Well, there you have it! That's the secret, and believe me, The Bull knew of this secret a long time ago. That's why The Bull possesses so much savvy and why he has all the babes. Who do you think taught Fabio?

My nerves were getting progressively more shot as the day went on. I thought I would vacuum my shoebox, so I walked to the convenience store over in the Roach Motel East to get a vacuum cleaner. It was about eleven, and the sign said that it didn't open until 11:30. I walked back to the loser's pad and returned about noon. The convenience store was still not open. My hands were shaking, and I knew that if I stood there staring at the sign any longer my fist would have gone through the plate glass. I went to the Lab, and ended up losing over an hour's of work due to my inability to save files. What a dunce! My hands started shaking again and I knew that soon my whole body would be quaking with a force I am not capable of producing. So, I walked over to the library to read a few computer magazines, hoping that this would calm my nerves. It is little wonder that I cannot get anything done. I have stacks of bills and paperwork piling up on the table in the Immaculate Roach. I was tempted to dump it all in the recycler. You know, I don't even have the energy to write out some rubberized debit vouchers. That is how fatigued I am.
 

Have you ever felt as if you were thwarted at every turn? That's kind of where I'm at today. I used to think that turning things into a joke would help lighten the burden. Now, I am so fatigued that I fear I will do something that could only be deemed "temporary insanity." I also fear that I have lost whatever readership I had left as things continue go downhill. Even with my own journals I have failed. I cannot compete with the energetic babe-chasing of other Web journal authors. But, this is real life. This is what happens when one can't cut the mustard. We all move in a non-contiguous plane and sometimes the bottom just seems to fall out. The only way to survive is to not care ... just move about recklessly and have everyone else make the concessions. I should just start acting dumb like Pauly Shore.

The only way to survive is to not care...

In going and coming from the gym, I was subjected to the same reckless attitude I was just discussing. People were swerving in and out of traffic, cutting me off, stopping in the middle of the road and so forth. I could have easily pulled over and jacked 'em. Instead, I opted to return and begin a session of seclusion. Well, you know I'm a peace-loving monk!

Prior to going into seclusion in my closet, I talked with Steph. Somehow we got into a discussion in which she was trying to tell me that many gorgeous babes never have dates because guys are too intimidated to ask them out. Even though I'm a monk, I almost started laughing as I wasn't too convinced ...

"Yeah, but they won't go out with anybody that looks like Weird Al Yankovich. Right?" I asked.

"Well ... yeah, but, Weird Al has a lot of money," she said.

"I'm talking about a generic Weird Al Yankovich, not Big Bank Hank."

"Err ... well ..."
 

There you have it! The babes are not sitting at home because no one asked them out. They are sitting at home because only the guys who look like Weird Al sans dough have asked them out. Sheesh!

I brushed my coat hangers aside and stepped out of the closet to go to the gym. I not exactly sure if I should have. The gym was somewhat boring, but that's the way I like it. Then, I went shopping at Lucky's to restock my supply of Bush's baked beans. It was literally a babefest there. For the first time in years, I felt my mind was ready to snap. I paid for my stuff and rushed back to the safety of my tiny shoebox. As I was driving back in my six-four, I wondered how my homeys like Scott, Tom and The Master handle the whole situation. I mean, we have touched on the subject but do we really know? Then, it dawned on me ... we need some real investigative reporting here. We need to go Deep Undercover! Maybe LoserNet needs a new page with subjects like ...
 

• Are my homeys joshing when they say they don't need babes?
• What is really going on with Tom and Steph?
• See The Bull in action ... Deep Undercover goes to Mango's!
• Who is this Loser guy and where the hell is he?
• The secret desires of monks and ...
 
Hey, wait a minute! That kind of stuff is no longer allowed on the Net even if it is tame by today's standards! Well, I need to go back into my closet and think this out more. What do you think?

It must be the sinister force at work again, toying with the oversized cranium. After seeing that babefest yesterday at Lucky's, I became extremely confused. I was beginning to have my doubts about being a monk. This must have been what The Master was talking about when he became restless back in December. But, let's get real here, shall we? I could get restless all I want and nothing is going to change. The sinister force knows that. The Master knows that. And, I know that. Of course, I should have known that this would occur just before Valentine's Day. That is the day that changed the course of history for me as I know it. Five years ago today, I was lighting the fuse to the bomb I was sitting on (the Secret Admirer fiasco).

Have you ever seen a babe who causes your mind to go blank? I saw one yesterday during the Lucky's babefest. Baby was checking out the sliced turkey in the cold cuts section. Then, I saw baby in almost every aisle I turned into after that. Fortunately I had my shades on, otherwise it would have been obvious that I was losing consciousness as my eyes were rolling back in my head. So, I bought a big bag of Tostito's chips and some salsa and went back to the Roach Motel. I consumed the whole thing in one sitting. Well, it works for Chris Elliot! Really? No, not really! That ad will haunt me forever. But, I feel better now because I came to my senses. I should have known better. I can never have that. That is out of my league! I'm not even in a league!
 

The regular cast was back in the gym today. I did some meathead stuff and went to Yalda's class. The Bull was in there, and as you well know by now, he was the center of attention. Yalda even had him demonstrate some of his own complex choreography. Most of the babes were on his side of the class. The babe he is interested in, Jennifer, was in front of me, and one of the babes trying to get a date with the trainer(s) was next to me. During the abs set, Yalda decided to do a partners thing. Most of the babes were vying to be The Bull's partner. I had my shades on and I saw that the babes next to me were looking like ... well, let's just say it was obvious that they didn't want the ol' eunuch as a partner. I spared them the thrill of shutting me down, and got outta there. That was my wake-up call for the stupidity I experienced last night. You know, it's no fun being born repulsive, ladies and gentlemen. That's why I'm back on track once again!

I spared them the thrill of shutting me down, and got outta there.

I have never used the word "ugly" to describe anyone, although in my case it is a compliment. Lots of people use that term in describing others. Most of the guys have no reservations about rating babes that way. Come to think of it, the babes do the same thing. Yeah, remember that incident where those two babes said something about only the ugly guys came in when they did? And, there was just me and one other guy in the whole gym. Sheesh! That's a lesson to be learned. Looks are everything in this world. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. If you're ugly like me and you can't make it in life, there's the reason why! I should just go into permanent seclusion!

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day, the day that should have been named after The Bull. Who will be the fortunate recipients of a card from The Bull? And, who will have the honor of a V-Day date with The Bull? Parents, do you know where your daughters are? For a small percentage of us, it will just be another day. I expect to be in the Lab. I know it won't be too crowded. It won't be too crowded at the gym either. People like to make themselves scarce during Valentine's. Being anywhere without a date is an anathema ... might as well walk around with a megaphone and announce "I'm a loser." But, let's face it, these are the monk years!

I should take some time to address the issue (once again) about the dark side of the this e-journal. I have at times received some interesting mail from concerned readers about the direction of the journal. Some wonder about who writes this diatribe, others wonder if it is indeed real. This journal came about because of a suggestion from a reader who thought it would be interesting to know more about the narrator of Loser. Incidentally, when Loser was being written, I never expected it to catapult itself into the cult popularity it has acquired. Why Virgin never became popular is perhaps best explained by the pathetic, albeit transient, nature of my life. Loser was a light-hearted attack on an inconsiderate neighbor. We never really learn much about him as everything is left to conjecture. On the other hand, Virgin goes deep into the life and psyche of its writer. Sometimes it is not a pretty picture. I had bantered about what the definition of "entertainment" was and whether these journals could be classified as such. Most people seek out the Net for entertainment as much as they do with the tube. I have tried to make this entertaining, but I also cannot neglect my true feelings and interpretations about the incidents that confront me. If I approached every scenario with, "Such-and-such looks bad but it really doesn't bother me because I know everything will be fine," then would you believe me? Or, would you think I was fooling myself? These are hard considerations to make considering that I stand to lose my readership. As far as the situations and characters being real ... yes!

An interesting thing I should share that can be considered as an addendum to what I was discussing in the first week of January and also as an addendum to the current discussion ... I mentioned that I had to be part of an actual group when I was taking a group therapy class. That experience was less than fun. After the group completed its term, I talked with the facilitator. She mentioned to me that she found it odd that I was being targeted and attacked by most of the female members. She said that I didn't do anything that was different from the other male members. Yet, I was the only one ostracized. It really didn't surprise me, though. I give babes the willies. I am the exact opposite of The Bull. It's a good thing I'm a monk!

The gym was packed today. I almost didn't make it in because parking was at a premium. Fortunately I did because I ran into Bart there. It has been a long time since I've seen him. He was looking good. He has been working in Yellowstone and in Las Vegas. He splits the year and travels between both places. His mother had taken ill so he came back to help her out. He will be here for about two months. We got a chance to reminisce about the old days briefly. It is amazing that Bart is here for the fifth anniversary of Secret Admirer. I'm sure he remembers it well as he became an unwitting participant in that charade. The Bull came by while we were talking. He was complaining about how tired he was. All three of us had just taken Janemarie's step class. I asked The Bull how he could be tired when he pretty much led the class. Kathleen was a few feet away on one of the Keifer machines. Baby was laughing because she was listening to our conversation. I told baby that she should help nurse The Bull back to health. She started saying something about how good The Bull looked ... well, you know the rest of the story. Matt told me that he is planning another ski trip, poker night, and another luncheon. Sheesh! Something tells me that I am going to miss these days here.

Happy V-Day everybody! Yes, it's the big day. And, this is the LoserNet V-Day special. We got a lot of fun things planned today so stay tuned! You know, a lot of people dread this day. Why? It's just another Wednesday. So, you think you are going to be home alone? No date, no cards, no flowers ... no problem! No babe ... we don't care! That's right, I'm making all of you honorary monks for the day!

Well, let's see now ... we should check in with America's favorite couple, The Idiots, and see what they are doing for V-Day. Last we heard, The Idiots were changing their answering machine message. Oh boy. I sure hope they are going to do more than that. Maybe they might go out for a romantic dinner but let's face it, ladies and gentlemen, what restaurant can serve enough food for these two? Dinner at an all-you-can-eat smorgy is not what I would call romantic. Sheesh!

What about Loser? What will he be doing? Yes, I forgot to mention that I saw Loser on Saturday night. He was going to study somewhere. So, he's still here. I don't think Loser spends much time at the "palace" like he used to. Well, there's a couple living next to him. Then, the babe on the other side has a stud. And, I think his upstairs and downstairs neighbors have babes. I'm sure at least one of the studs has more stamina than BigFoot^tm. No wonder he isn't home that much! I don't think he'll want to be home tonight.

I should mention that Mrs. Idiot called Mr. Idiot all morning to wake him up. The answering machine (with new message) was up full blast and played over and over again. I really can't blame Mr. Idiot for not answering the phone, but why does the ol' eunuch have to unwittingly share in their love games? Sometimes I am thankful that I am a monk. Babes need a lot of attention. Well, some guys like The Bull need a lot of attention, too. I like no attention, and a lot of peace and quiet. I can go for days without talking to anyone. Not too many babes would go for that. Babes need a lot of sensory stimuli like a lot of touching. That is another thing I can live without. I like to keep my hands to myself. Babes also like a lot of expression. I am used to the 24/7 stoneface. It sounds as if I am mummified, doesn't it?

If you don't have a special squeeze for V-Day, not to worry! Take this time to pay homage to some of the great friendships that you have. Some of us may not be out on the town tearin' it up tonight, but we can rest assured that we will share in the camaraderie of the Net!

The weather has been like late Spring. Thus, you can only imagine what a total babefest it was today. Very apropos for V-Day. Even the Lab was a babefest. So, I came home only to find my door unlocked and whiz all over my toilet. The Roach Motel was retrofitting some fire alarms in all the little shoeboxes. Apparently, the crew didn't feel that I had much important in here (like my $2,300 computer). And, since my little shoebox is so bare, they decided to use it as the Porta-John. Isn't that special? I'd say that it was a real nice day up to that point. Do you see why I could easily cut loose in a violent frenzy?

The gym was not very crowded today. The Bull did make an appearance, even though he said yesterday that he wasn't coming in. Tam and Yalda were team-teaching a special V-Day step class, and I was sitting outside with The Bull. Almost all of the babes came out and asked The Bull if he was taking the class. Some were stepping on my shoes and kicking my leg aside just to talk with The Bull. Apparently, I was in their way. Both Yalda and Tam also tried to get him to go in. Finally, he gave in to his fans and took the class. I left immediately afterwards. Fortunately, I'm a monk, but how would you feel if this happened to you on V-Day?

There was nothing else I could do but go to Burger King to get a couple of Whoppers. I felt much better. Well, I know the Lab won't be crowded so I will be there to wind up this V-Day celebration. Actually, I have no choice as The Idiots will be spending their V-Day at home. I hope you have had a much better celebration than I did. Happy V-Day!

Did you survive V-Day? I knew you would. Well, it's back to business as usual then. The skies are looking a little dark again. I think we are due for more rain. I was walking to the Lab today when two morons barely missed clipping me with their car. They were going about 45mph in a 25mph zone. All in all, they thought it was funny. This happens to me almost daily. People today can't seem to distinguish between stupidity and good judgment. A couple of weeks ago, my homey Tom was telling me about his Neighbors from Hell. Aside from the 24/7 party mode, other stupid things were a daily occurrence. One night during a party, one of the partying fools forgot to secure the parking brake in his truck and the truck rolled down the hill. The morons all thought it was funny. I would think that a two-ton truck could be considered deadly. It ended up in someone's yard. No one rushed over to move it. This may be funny in a Pauly Shore movie but to bring it into real life is ludicrous. Maybe I'm just getting old and I don't know how to have fun anymore. Maybe I should fire up the ol' six-four and cruise around and play "Chicken" with everyone! Now that's what I call fun!

I spent most of the day in the Lab after drinking two pots of coffee. Later, I almost didn't go to the gym but I thought I'd go there and, at worst, just socialize. I did a little meathead stuff and, when Matt and The Bull went to Yalda's quadstep class, I ended up talking with Mike (the guy who took the armadillo pictures). He said he didn't feel like working out either. So, we talked for about an hour. Somehow we got on the subject of babes. Now, Mike isn't like the rest of the guys. He doesn't talk about how many babes he's skinned up. Instead, he was sharing with me some interesting perspectives about how most guys don't know how to please babes, how babes give signals of interest, etc. Of course, Mike knows that I have no need for this knowledge as I'm a monk. I did find it interesting that I had never experienced any of those signals. Babes are never where I am at and, if they are, they move away. That happened last night, by the way. I forgot to mention that. Babes never try to make eye contact with me or try to talk to me. That, in itself, is a signal. It means "Beat it, loser!" The Bull, however, was the center of attention in Yalda's class. When I looked in, I saw that he had his arms on the hips of his new interest, Jennifer. The Bishop was back. He was running around trying to work in on sets, coincidentally at machines the babes were at. He has pretty much washed his hands of any association with the ol' monk after the incident at Fresh Choice. Fortunately, the Lab will be empty tonight. It is time for my Club Med vacation! Also, thanks to joshm@rga.com for writing in!

After the discussion yesterday with Mike, I began to realize that I am in a blessed situation. It takes a lot of work to keep babes happy. Most guys are not willing to do that. They want to do some skinnin' and be done with it. But, apparently, the babes are willing to put up with that. It's easy to see why. Everyone, including the babes, wants someone attractive. Now, they may not end up with their ideal but they will not settle for the bottom of the barrel. In fact, I think I know all five people in this town who are at the bottom of the barrel. Mike was telling me about some guy the babes call the "Two-Minute Wonder." The stupid part of the story is that he's been through many babes and they all complain about him. The putz, according to Mike, doesn't care because he got what he wanted. Some of the babes even know each other! On face value, it looks like stupidity gone awry. But, upon further scrutiny, there can be only one logical answer. He probably looked like The Bull.

Do monks think about babes? Well, some probably do. That has been one of the big issues in recruiting for cleric orders. The vow of celibacy is not for everyone. Now, if one is a loser, is that a good reason for becoming a monk? That seems to be where I'm coming from but, in actuality, I am not a monk because I cannot find a babe (it certainly has helped keep me from being distracted). Then, why talk about babes all the time? I could talk about monk stuff but, judging from MonasteryNet's low accesses, I would probably end up talking to myself. Here at LoserNet, you get to live my life with me. You get to see all the secular temptations that cause the confusion that is life. You get to listen to my internal dialogue as I make my way through the quagmire. It is an interesting alternative to other Web journals detailing amorous exploits. Those journals may be very interesting to many guys because there is a hope that some secret will be revealed on how to score. There is also the hope that if the author is a loser (who else would put journals on the Web?) and scores, then there is hope that anyone can. Do you see The Bull's journal on the Web? How about Ross Jeffries' journal? They don't have time to write these up and, if they did, why should they share that information?

It was another social day at the gym. Today, I ended up talking with The Bull and Jimbo. I asked The Bull about why he had his hands on his babe, Jennifer, during the quadstep class yesterday. The Bull told me that he was getting "frisky" with several of the babes in the class. I asked him what he meant by "frisky." Was he talking about cat food? He said he was grabbing their legs and so forth. "That's not 'frisky,' that's getting freaky. You were freakin' da freaks," I told him. All the while, Jimbo was next to me reciting California Penal Code sections defining sexual battery.

My homey Tom and I ended up at Starbuck's for some coffee. He had an idea for a book project. I thought it had potential but I doubt that he will pursue it. Later, we went over to Barnes & Noble. I checked out the latest novels to see current writing styles. In a way, it was promising because I think that the collaborative book project I have been working on may have a chance. And, thanks to Frankjan@205.242.192.20 and the regulars for writing in!

I must have had too much coffee last night as I could not get to sleep. That precluded me from having any coffee this morning. So, I was delirious all day. As you well know, delirium calls for one thing ... seclusion. Well, maybe not. Today is Mardi Gras here, along with a parade and parties. Why are we having Mardi Gras in California? You know, I don't think this town has an identity. One year we had Hawai'ian Friday. Everyone was supposed to dress in Hawai'ian attire every Friday. We don't have Hawai'ian Friday anymore but we do have Mardi Gras.

You know, now that everyone is out celebrating, maybe I should check out some of those hurdy-gurdy sites. Just kidding! I think that so-called decency act only helped out all those hurdy-gurdy sites. Not only did it create increased demand, it also helped commerce. Yes, age verification requires a membership or processing fee. Isn't it great how that all worked out for everyone?

Not having a life required me to stop in the Wherehouse to check on any new CDs. Nope, nothing good. I ran into Pat and his babe, Robyn, there. They mentioned that another friend, Ed, is now in Antarctica. Aren't there like ten people total living on that block of ice? We all go back about three years ago when we lived in some wild apartment complex across the creek from the Roach Motel. Not eager to return to my shoebox, I then decided to go to ... the AutoMall! Yes, the 96s are in! And, I've gotta tell ya, some of these cars ... the front ends look like Halloween masks. Other cars were rather bulbous. Why can't they make 'em like my ol' six-four? Sheesh!

I enjoyed the seclusion of the lab for most of the day, although it was packed with people. Sitting at the computer, however, is very similar to sitting in the closet. One becomes oblivious to the surroundings. I returned at 3pm with good intentions to go to the gym. But, it was so quiet for once. The Idiots and BigFoot^tm were not home. So, I sat in my little shoebox and indulged in the silence. I have come to realize that there is no amount of money that could be equated with the luxury of pure silence. Only the gentle breeze blowing through the trees could be heard over my clock (the Time Bomb). I felt guilty not going to the gym for two days now. But, does it really matter?

Time was when I couldn't bear the silence. It drove me nuts. Extreme quiet is disconcerting because it reminds us of our aloneness. Thoughts can actually be heard for once. I can hear my heart beat. And, I can clear my mind. Sometimes we think noise distracts us from our thoughts. No, it only preempts them. The silence is cleansing like a brisk shower, although the droplets of water cannot be heard. The world is a nice place when it's quiet.

I didn't want to spoil yesterday's entry by having to end it on a bad note, so I saved it for today. The Idiots returned home a little before midnight. Mr. Idiot was talking at the top of his lungs and singing, if you can believe it. Mrs. Idiot was slammin' every door in sight. I surmise that they were either drunk or they had a hypoglycemic response to eating a gallon of ice cream each. The latter is more believable. The rains started up again today. We have flash flood warning in effect. I only hope that Mr. Idiot doesn't eat another gallon of ice cream, or we might see him outside dancing in the rain in his birthday suit.

The new 2Pac CD is out and it is $19 on sale. Yeah, right. The title of the CD is Gimme All Yo Dough! Well, that's what the title should be. That is what we pay for entertainment these days. I think it's time to sell the K-Mart all-in-one. I got enough music around here anyway. The rhythm section is upstairs. The percussion and, as of last night, the lead vocals are next door. Sheesh! I'm getting real tired of paying big bucks for nothing, and then (when I was working) earn the equivalent of two Big Macs per hour. I don't have time to make other people rich. Everything is money. Even babes. Do you realize that losers fork out big bank just to see babes in magazines, videos and hurdy-gurdies? Why have we come to this? And, why is 2Pac's CD nineteen dollars?

I got a five-minute workout in before the Cardinal showed up at the gym. He stopped in the gym to see if The Bull and I wanted to go out for all-you-can-eat Chinese. Then, it ended up being another social session. The Cardinal told me that he had a date with the new babe he started seeing recently. Apparently, she told him that she had a little fling with her old roommate, who was not a guy. She wanted to know how he felt about that. The Cardinal said that he has to "fire" her now. I left before six as I had to meet Tom and Steph for dinner at Big Sky since I already made that commitment. Dinner was pretty good. I had some vegetable Jambalaya. Well, hey! It was Mardi Gras here in town on Saturday! Heavy D and his new babe came in as we were eating, and Steph pointed him out. I told Steph that Heavy D has been through almost all the babes in the gym. She thought he was a real nice guy and didn't like what I had to say. I just told it like it is. After all, it is common knowledge. However, Steph is probably taken in by Heavy D's looks, although she may not admit it. I have nothing to gain by bad-mouthing Heavy D. People will always believe what they want to believe until they get hurt. Steph had to go to the gym after dinner, so Tom and I went over to Starbuck's for coffee. One of my old homeys, JD, came in with his babe. I hadn't seen him a long time. Tom and I are getting to be fixtures at Starbuck's but, then again, where else are we to go?

It has been raining steadily through the night. I could not sleep because of all the coffee I drank last night, so I spent most of the time thinking. I realized that I have about a month left of my gym membership. And, sometime around June, I'll be moving on to live in a crowded house with moms, my bro, sister-in-law, and my nephew. Most likely, I'll be sleeping on the couch. The worst part is this site will no longer exist. If that wasn't bad enough, The Idiots woke up at 7am in their full glory of stupidity. They have been going in and out. The pattern was sickeningly stupid. Go out, slam door, disarm car alarm. Arm car alarm, come in, slam door. This went on for 30 minutes. Then, Mr. Idiot finally drove off and Mrs. Idiot needed to take her shower. That required slamming the shower door into our common wall. I almost went off. I think, as my days here wind down, there will be an increasing probability that I will go off and mess somebody up real bad.

I guess you could say that I am a little displeased with the situation, but mostly I am displeased with myself. I don't mind being destitute. I just wish that it wasn't always (lack of) money that makes decisions for me. Maybe it is foolish pride that keeps me from getting that job at Burger King. Something about being 42 years old and working at Burger King doesn't sit well with me. It will all come in due time.

Even though I was delirious from lack of sleep I did make it to the gym. The Cardinal came over to me to tell me that he thinks that one of the gym babes, Chris, has a thing for the ol' eunuch. The Cardinal might be a little delirious from the T-5 codeine pills he has been taking. I think she's after the Cardinal. He's just trying to throw a blackeye in da game! Matt is definitely planning another fish heads lunch, and he also wants poker night to start up. Fortunately, the Cardinal is moving into a bigger place soon because that's where Matt wants it to happen. Matt, The Bull and I took Janemarie's step class. Bart happened to be in today. I told him that Heidi (another aerobics instructor) wanted to get him a month pass but it would depend on the gym "owner." We are not holding our breath on this one. The Bull and I went to the all-you-can-eat salad bar at CJ's. We had a nice discussion about the big dinner I missed last night, Tam, the gym cliques, and so forth. The Bull is also planning on getting a new Pentium computer, so he may be on-line soon. Parents, do you know what your daughters are doing on-line?

The rains continued today. The creek sounds more like a river now. There is a small lake developing in my six-four as the water easily seeps through the "duck" tape patchwork. I should buy some little plastic boats and put them in there. It was a nice morning of listening to BigFoot^tm stomp around in the corral. Loser never stomped that loud. I would think one's legs would hurt stomping like that. It literally sounds like somebody is pounding my ceiling with a big mallet. I don't know. Maybe he's practicing his roundup techniques.

The Bull has been a little put off by babes lately. In fact, he and fellow Dream Teamer, Eric, have not been out tearin' it up. The Bull has been dissatisfied with the pickings. He said that he could have that babe he is interested in, Jennifer, but she is too immature. She just turned twenty. What did he expect? He knows that Rachel is attracted to him, but she is the weatherman's babe. He said that one of the gym babes thought that he was engaged to Rachel. So, what about Tam? Tam, according to The Bull, is "too into herself." All she does is talk about herself. The Bull is put off by that ... this coming from the guy who is always the center of attention wherever he is. He likes 'em young, he likes 'em gorgeous, he likes 'em mature, but they better not be too into themselves. Yeah, right.

Today was a real treat for me in the Lab. I got stuck on a computer with a defective floppy drive (I didn't want to wait for another computer). I was blessed with the presence of two babes on the computers next to me. They had countless other babes and guys stopping to visit. I got to hear one of their babe friends discuss the return of stud. He apparently was away for a month and she has a "big surprise" for him. The babe sitting next to me was telling the other babe about her fling with some guy that she met downtown. As she put it, "One thing led to another." Life for these babes is an endless party with lots of drinking and a lot more guys. I wonder who is paying the bill? Does this sound familiar? If only they knew that they were sitting next to a monk. I gathered from how loud they were talking that they wanted the ol' loser to hear how winners live. I should have thanked them for giving me such a vicarious thrill.

It was the usual at the gym. The Bull was actually doing a workout today. His babe, Jennifer, and her friend were also in the meathead room. I told The Bull that they were staring at him all the while they were in there. He told me, "Yeah, I know. Her friends all stare at me, too." Then, when The Bull was resetting the weights on the bicep machine, I told him that they were checking out his buns of steel. He told me, "Yeah, they always do that." Having my shades on, I am able to see what they are really doing. During the whole time, they never looked at him once. The Bull, however, feels that he could probably get her pretty easily. I am beginning to have my doubts about The Bull's perceptions and his drawing power. I went into Tam's class to get the Bishop because we were heading out to dinner. Five of us ended up going to Woodstock's for pizza. We were probably the noisiest bunch there, as the Cardinal was on a roll. As I drove home, I wondered if I will find another group like this one at the next gym I go to.

Guys are fascinated with their appendages. It dawned on me that about 85 percent of last night's dinner conversation had to do with that. The remainder was about babes. In all fairness, The Bull is not big on these conversations. Neither am I, for that matter. It is amazing that the topic of the "Vienna Sausage" went on for several hours, no doubt part of that strange phenomenon that we call male bonding.

It was "Vienna Sausage" time at the gym again today. I found out that guys can a buy a little weight set to work out the ol' sausage. Yeah, that's right! Now you can get a total body workout! We missed Yalda's quadstep class because of all the fun. So, The Bull, the Cardinal and I went to all-you-can-eat Chinese for dinner. So far, we've been out every night of the week. You can imagine what little work I am getting done. It's a good thing I'm retired!

Sometimes hangin' out ain't so bad. I actually enjoy it, although it is an anathema to the monk lifestyle. Hangin' out doesn't seem to serve any purpose. Usually we just tell dumb stories and laugh a lot. Hanging out with the gym group is a lot more raucous than, say, having coffee with The Master. Each association serves some kind of purpose in the grand scheme. Perhaps that is why it doesn't matter for me to know any babes. My rare conversations with babes indicate that babes do not wish to discuss the stupid things guys do. Perhaps that is why I make a good monk. I am not an intimate person, and I never will be. I don't want to share my life with anyone. I like having company like most people but I enjoy my aloneness much more.

I haven't given my Stupid Neighbor Report in a while. The Idiot's have been staying somewhere else for the last three nights. I would assume that they were house-sitting, but they are back tonight. Mrs. Idiot has been playing in the kitchen, dropping heavy objects in the sink. BigFoot^tm has been quiet most of the week but he must have gotten cabin fever. He and his chewin' tobaccy buddy are having a hoe-down as we speak. I have refrained from breaking out the Emergency Rap CD. In fact, I haven't played the K-Mart all-in-one in weeks. Sometimes I feel like cranking it up with some Dogg Pound and wait for these fools to come over. Then, one by one, I would deck 'em, at least until the cops showed up. But, I'm a peace loving monk now. And, these ... these are the monk years.

The carpet cleaners were at The Idiot's place bright and early. That explains why The Idiots were gone for a few days. I had a similar problem one year ago. The water pipe broke in the wall and leaked into my shoebox. The stupid part is that it happened three times because the Roach Motel maintenance crew used hose clamps to stop the leak. Each time this happened, I ended up with the carpets torn up, furniture stacked on one side, and I had a living space the area of an ordinary suitcase. Three huge fans were left on for five days. That was also about the time Loser began pacing. Of course, the Roach Motel didn't put me up somewhere like it did for The Idiots. The more I think back, the easier it is to see why my nerves are shot.

It was pure Bullmania at the gym today. The Bull and I took Sandra's step class. Sandra volunteered The Bull to demonstrate some of his techniques to the class. He was more than happy to oblige. A gym babe asked me about The Bull today. She said she had a boyfriend but she wanted to know if The Bull would date her. She also wanted to feel his buns of steel. So, I called The Bull over to talk to her. Later, the same babe dropped her towel on the floor near The Bull and called him over to pick it up. The Bull, being a true gentlemen, quickly responded. All of the babes were watching this. Some of them looked as if they were ready to faint. Then, a group of babes walked by to check out The Bull. He said that all of them had asked him to dance one night at his club, Mango's. I was wrong to have doubted his drawing power. One of the other gym babes, Joanne, came over when I was talking to The Bull just to tell him how fine he looked. The Bull also told me that quite a few babes have been approaching him for stock investing advice, even eighteen year-old babes. Almost everyone knows that he made a killing in the market a few years ago. I didn't know that there were so many eighteen year-old babes that invested in stocks. Shows you how little I know.

I am amazed to see that, on the one hand, The Bull has an endless stream of babes. Then, on the other hand, there are guys who can't even get a babe to say one word to them. It is a sad situation to see the inequities of society. Many babes think that men are pigs, but they are talking about the Heavy Ds of the world. There are nice guys out there but they look like Weird Al Yankovich. Babes don't feel sorry for guys but they need to consider one thing. If a guy doesn't approach a babe, he will be sitting home with cable forever. A babe need only make herself available and guys will approach her. Those are the rules. Just the few guys who look like The Bull need only make themselves available to get play.

The Idiots were the only people home in the Roach Motel when I returned. They were in the middle of their 19-course meal. Somehow, just thinking I would be here all night like them made me feel like a real winner. So, I was outta here. Friday night is Homicide night at Big John's place. Nothing like good company, a good cup of coffee, and Homicide. Big John mentioned that the extortionist has gotten a lawyer now. This could prove interesting. Well, that was another night in the big city with the ol' eunuch. I'd better get some rest. I've been livin' too large in a small way!

The life of a monk is very uneventful as you can well see. I was supposed to help the Cardinal move today but he did not meet me at gym like he said he would. I ended up doing my meathead workout and put in some StairMaster time. I stopped in at the Hermitage on my way home to arrange a meeting time with The Master later in the evening. We ended up at Starbuck's for coffee. The Master had been in New Mexico for two weeks, working on the new Hermitage. He appears to be looking forward to the day he moves there. He was contemplating putting a dungeon in when he builds the adobe Hermitage. I asked him what the dungeon was for. He said it was for himself. He is going to sit in the corner in the dungeon. This just in! I found the March issue of Internet Underground at Barnes & Noble tonight. I was very surprised to see that, in addition to the Classic Weird site feature, the ol' eunuch was featured in two full pages. Only one of the pictures I took was used. Why didn't they use the one with my alarm clock (Time Bomb) next to the oversized cranium?

You know, I was complaining about those Macs a while back but now I have to say that Windows is starting to irritate me. I was trying to view one of those hurdy-gurdy files on Netscape when it crashed. Just kidding! I noticed that Netscape has a few problems in conjunction with Windows sockets. Either the local disk writes or my video hardware is causing the "General Protection Fault" error message to pop up. Winsock says it is an overflow. Then, the Progman window pops up. Did you also notice that the "Ignore" option never works? Why is it even there? Sheesh!

I have received word that our mirror site is closing down. It seems that the predicted falling out in the industry is starting to come true. So, we have no mirror site anymore. That why nerves are shot! That's why this is LoserNet!

I have been in the Lab most of the day, and I will be in the Lab most of the night. I went to the gym but I almost gave it up until Star Trek: TNG came on. I got on the StairMaster and put an hour in while I watched it. It was an episode I never saw before. What a treat that was! See how easy I am to please? That's why I'm a monk! The Idiots came home at 10:30pm. Mr. Idiot has the annoying habit of dropping the seat on the toilet every time he uses it. I don't know if tubby is just plain stupid or his fat ass is like a suction and he has to pry the seat from himself with such force that it slams into the bowl. Sheesh!

Well, I finally started on my taxes and I found that I owe money. So, I had no choice but to put the K-Mart all-in-one up for sale. That should just about cover what I owe. Rent is due in a few days and I will be issuing a rubberized debit voucher for sure. It is little wonder why I am losing it. To top it off, I noticed that the Roach Motel had set the heat level on the clothes dryers so low that it takes twice as much dough just to get my clothes to the point of being slightly damp. Why not just set the heat up and charge ten dollars already? I'll probably have to sell my six-four next week just to do my laundry. Sheesh!
 

So far, I have wasted three days in an attempt to see people during their office hours. Why have office hours if the office is closed? Nothing makes sense in this life anymore. Maybe I move too slow. I'm like Jed Clampett in the Beverly Hillbillies. All I can do is whittle away out by the cement pond while life passes me by. Let's face it. This is a sinking ship and I'm trying to bail out the water with a Vienna Sausage can. The writing on the wall is clear. I was meant to be a monk.

I'm like Jed Clampett in the Beverly Hillbillies.

I almost didn't make it to the gym again because of the parking situation. I circled the lot a couple of times, then I went over to the liquor store and bought a 40-dog of King Cobra. Just kidding! I read my mail in the lot for about twenty minutes, then returned to the gym. Fortunately, I found parking. The gym was packed. The incident that The Bull had with that gym babe on Friday was the talk of the gym. The Bull and I took Sandra's step class. All of his babes were in there including Jennifer and the weatherman's babe. The Bull was the center of attention in the class as usual. I was happy to get out, knowing that I would end up later at my home away from home, the Lab.

The mirror site is pretty much history. Some of the other Web sites on the domain are trying to organize a takeover. I don't think it will be workable. Well, there's another thing to break out the Maalox for.

I came home to a hoe-down up in the BigFoot^tm corral last night, and I was also privy to a morning hoe-down. Since it was raining hard, I imagine that none of the chewin' tobaccy buddies were able to take the ol' John Deere out for a spin today. I left for the Lab soon after and spent another day with the computer.

After getting my monthly monk haircut, I headed for the gym. Once again, it was packed. I think everyone is planning for Spring already. I found out that the Cardinal called The Bull to help him out on Sunday because he couldn't get in touch with the ol' eunuch. I asked the Cardinal about our plans to go to all-you-can-eat crab dinner. He had forgotten all about it. I told him that the whole gang was planning on it. The Cardinal had some things to take care of first, so he left at five. I got in a little meathead workout. Between sets, people were coming by to talk story, mostly about babes. The Cardinal returned at six, and so we got everyone together. We went down to Spyglass Inn in Shell Beach. Six of us (including The Bull, the Bishop, the Cardinal, Eric, his brother, Danny, and I) took over the place. As usual, we were the noisiest group. Platters of crab came and went. It was a sight. Some babe took stud out for his birthday. The waitress brought the cake out but she didn't have anyone to sing. So, the Cardinal volunteered our services. We had the whole restaurant singing. There were two waitresses for our table. I think they earned their pay tonight. I overheard something about all-you-can-eat clam night and told the Cardinal. That got him going. We are supposed to be going out every night for the rest of the week to eat. I think it is part of the plan to become "huge." Sheesh! All I know is that I feel dizzy. I wonder if it's cholesterol overload.

You know, these clowns here at the Roach Motel should wake up and smell the coffee. I could have my own hoe-down here with the gym gang. And, believe me, they will wish they had been smart enough to keep quiet. Who would tell The Bull, the Bishop or the Cardinal to shut up? Mr. Idiot? BigFoot^tm? Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa! If any of those clowns came over, they would walk out compressed to the size of a pack of cigarettes. It really is a good thing that I am a kind and understanding monk. Sometimes I am amazed at my benevolence.

We (how many of us are there?) have had some nice e-mail recently. Many thanks to cbell@Phoenix.kent.edu and joshm@rga.com for writing in. Also, thanks to all the regulars who drop us a line or two to tell us what's going on!

The babes who hit on The Bull at his club, Mango's, were at the gym yesterday again. Apparently, they are now members. One of the trainers was showing them the use of the machines. It is strange to notice the disproportionate time spent by the trainers on babes. He must have spent close to an hour with them. Now, if that had been a guy, it would be more like ten minutes. One of the 40-something guys had his eye on the babes. I had to tell him that they belong to The Bull. With Spring just around the corner, the gym is seeing an influx of new babes. All that means is that The Bull's dating pool is going to swell.

Dream Teamer, Eric, mentioned that his roommate makes about $100K per year. The guy is middle-aged. Just like me! He drives an old hoopty. Just like me! He has no babes. Just like me! Well, Eric mentioned that his roommate just got a whole bunch of new hurdy-gurdies. Just like me! Just kidding! You know, those hurdy-gurdies are filled with gorgeous babes doing the wild thing with some pretty shabby looking guys. It sells the notion that even losers can skin up beautiful babes. Now, let's face it, how can any guy in his right mind believe that? That only happens to guys who look like The Bull. Why do guys torture themselves with these hurdy-gurdies? All it does is empty one's wallet and makes one feel like a true loser. There's only one purpose for the hurdy-gurdies and it's not educational. It could be argued that the loser could reap some vicarious benefits. How? After turning the VCR off, the loser must venture outside only to discover that he is invisible to babes, especially gorgeous ones. I can see that the hurdy-gurdy industry probably benefits the alcohol and tobacco industry the most. They go hand-in-hand, so to speak.

The gym was a little quieter today. Someone brought a sample of an application that The Bull could use to screen all of his babes. Lord knows, he needs something like that! The Bull and I were the only two guys in Tam's step class. When I went out to get some water, a couple of guys who were outside watching started laughing. One of them told me, "Man, give it up already, because you are only embarrassing yourself." He said that The Bull made me "look like a real chump." He was right. The Bull is able move his perfect physique with the prowess of a professional dancer. The babes were hovering around him. It's a good thing I'm a monk because, after those guys made fun of me, I could have gone berserk. I left Tam's class early after two babes stepped on my feet as they ran over to talk to The Bull.

When I arrived back at the Roach Motel, I was privy to another hoe-down up in the corral. I guess I will have a hoe-down every night. BigFoot^tm doesn't care. He pays rent! He can do whatever he wants! Even in my small world of obscurity, I have to tolerate these fools. There's just no escape. So, as tired as I was, I gathered up my diskettes and went to the Lab. It will be my safe haven until 10pm. Then, it's back to the hoe-down. Hiyo Silver! Sheesh! Even Roy Rogers would be ashamed of these fools!

Yahoo! It's Leap Year Day! And, I'm celebrating it! You know why? Because no one else celebrates it! In fact, I'm declaring today a monastic holiday. So, if you are a monk like me, take the day off. You deserve it. And, don't worry about the Festival of the Baked Beans tonight. Yeah, go ahead, go out and get a couple of Whoppers at Burger King instead (your way, of course!). What about the gym? No problem. Go if you feel like it. And, if any of the babes give you grief, give them a couple of dimes and tell them to call The Bull's hotline! You don't have time for that, because today is a holiday ... a holiday for monks!

Seeing that it was a holiday, I decided to do nothing at the gym. I almost went to Yalda's quadstep class but, as The Bull walked in ahead of me, the class erupted into screams and cheers. I turned around and walked out. The Bull was the star of the class! My homey Bart was just outside and saw the whole thing. He couldn't believe it. The Cardinal, Randy and I left to go downtown to all-you-can-eat Chinese. The Bull said he would join us later, as he didn't want to disappoint all of his fans in the class. The Bull brought the Bishop along with him, and we had another marathon skinnin' conversation. More holidays like this, and I don't know what I'm going to do.

Continue the adventure now ... move on to March!

Eunuchs or UNIX: The Monk Years

Starring:
42-Year-Old Virgin ... Tralfaz
The Bull ... Himself
The Cardinal ... Himself
And a cast of thousands!

Original Soundtrack by Kool G. Monk
and
The Monks of the Immaculate Roach

Presented by 42-Year-Old Virgin Productions/WebPartners in association with Chez Loser/House of Loser.

© Copyright 1996 by The 42-Year-Old Virgin.
LoserNet^tm Love It, or Lose It.