Keeper of Lost Lives
Welcome, my friends, to the show that never ends ...
Wednesday May 1, 1996
"You are so sweet, my handsome rump roast. I would love to smother you with my thick gravy, and kiss your lovable doughboy physique. I love my men big and Jell-O soft!" coos Mrs. Idiot, while engaged in a slammin' soirée.
"Come here, baby ... baby chicken dumpling, that is."
There was another babefest ... err, I mean, scorcher today. For the babes, it was a Summer dress day. I won't be driving around until after the sun goes down after yesterday's experience. Speaking of babes, I discovered that the one site on this server that has the highest count is a hurdy-gurdy links list. That about says it all! Everybody is thinking about babes! Lastly, thanks to all the regulars for continuing to keep me busy with e-mail! Also, thanks to email@example.com and KaNexKaNe@aol.com (formerly FrostbiteX) and our old friend firstname.lastname@example.org for writing in!
I still have not been to the new gym. I look like a total slob now. To celebrate, I ate a whole bag of Santita's chips with some real hot salsa and a frozen Tina's burrito for dinner last night. The salsa really helped my heartburn, too. If I keep this up, I should have the ultimate computer nerd physique. By the time I make it up to Oregon, my collaborator might not even recognize me. Speaking of baby, she and I have now taken to talking on the phone regularly. The late night talks are also contributing to sleep deprivation. Baby may be coming down to visit later this month. She wants to walk on the beach and try out some of our famous Pismo clams.
The book is coming along. It is about 75 percent done. However, I have been neglecting the most important aspect ... presenting it to publishers. I have also entertained the idea of publishing the journals since they are already written. You can see how far that has gotten. I lack the initiative and drive to make it in the so-called system. I could write until I'm blue in the face. If I don't get out and do some groundwork, everything will all remain unpublished. This is another reason I don't have a job. I can't make it through the system. Employers can sense that, too. There is very little that one can do that is pure, in and of itself, especially in the early phases of discovery. The key is to become a jack of all trades (and a master of none).
I could mention that there was another scorcher. It was so hot that it blurred my vision for about an hour. That's good because today was another babefest. There was a full moon, and it was warm tonight. Farmer's Market was a madhouse (read: babefest). I met the Cardinal and The Bull for all-you-can-eat Chinese. The topic of discussion tonight ... babes. What else is new? The Bishop was supposed to be there but he declined at the last minute. The Bull mentioned that the Bishop has been hitching a ride to see his babe. She lives about 30 miles away, and the Bishop's car has been out of commission. The Cardinal and I said, in unison, "He's in love!" The Cardinal asked me how the weather was in Oregon. He also wanted me to tell my collaborator that he says hello. The Cardinal also claimed that he was taking a break from babes. The Bull has been playing with his new computer, so he says he doesn't even notice babes. Then, he mentioned how his old babe, Jennifer, came running up to him to talk. Both the Cardinal and The Bull said that they have been trying to call the ol' eunuch. So, I have been missing out on a few activities. Sheesh! I think it's time for me to cruise in my six-four.
The Bishop called today to see if I would post his car on a "For Sale" newsgroup. The Bull stopped by while I was talking with the Bishop. We went over to the Bishop's place and the three of us walked over to Trader Joe's. The Bishop and I had the free samples for lunch. Steph was working there today, so I chatted with her for a bit. Later, The Bull and I went to look at mountain bikes. Ah, the life of the retired! We ended up making a day of it by first going to CJ's for dinner, and then over to the Bishop's place to hang out. We had an entertaining evening, something we haven't done in a while. The conversation, of course, centered on babes. We also happened to see The Inkwell. The Idiots have been gone for a day and some of their moronic friends are watching their place. When I returned, I noted that they were doing more than watching the place (i.e., partying).
My old friend, the sinister force, has definitely returned. I received notice that I have to pay back a portion of my unemployment with a 30 percent penalty. I have no records to refute the discrepancy, so I will just have to write out a rubberized debit voucher. I might as well write out checks to everyone. I think I've reached the end of my rope. All I'm doing is paying out money with money I don't have. I now have to seriously reconsider all immediate plans. Vacation is officially over. I need to just cut my losses and run. In all honesty, if I don't end up hammered before the weekend is over, it will be a miracle. Not even seclusion will help me now!
The Bull came by. He and I decided to buy those mountain bikes. Real smart! I just got notified that I owe money back with a stiff penalty, and I go out and spend a lot of dough. You know, I don't care anymore. I don't care about anything. We went over to the Bishop's place later. The Bishop said he would be happy to get some 40 dogs of King Cobra and get hammered. Don't let the smooth taste fool ya! Who knows? I just might take him up on it!
The only thing that has come out of the weekend was that I discovered a new radio station, Smooth-FM. I was listening to the station while The Bull and I were at the shades store. The Bull took about an hour to decide on some shades and I just listened to the jammin' sounds of jazz. It was so nice and, yes, smooth ... perfect for convalescing. It is now the official station on the K-Mart!
I rode over to Tom's place, and we talked for a bit. I returned to the Roach Motel, and I was just about to take another ride with my six-five (the new loser's wheels) when The Bull called. He was at the Bishop's place. I went over there to hang out. The conversation centered on babes but it did not matter. It kept my mind off of other nonsense. We went to Trader Joe's again. I talked with Steph again and chowed down on free samples. We had dinner at CJ's again. The discussion was mostly about The Bull's various babes and also about the Bishop's love interest. I asked about Big Don. The guys told me that he had gone in for surgery again. This time he had a kidney removed. He had open-heart surgery not less than six months ago. The Bishop suggested that we visit, so we drove over there. Big Don was happy to see his boys. I finally returned to my shoebox and put Smooth-FM on. Much better ... have a great Cinco de Mayo!
|My collaborator called yesterday, which was nice. I also called baby later in the evening. We had not talked for a while. She also sent the pictures from the SF trip. I was disturbed when I saw that I looked like I had a cinder block for a head. Well, hey! I am a lavahead! I went to Lucky's and bought more Bush's baked beans, and also picked up some RTV silicone and "duck" tape. You are not going to believe this but there really is a brand called Duck Tape. There's a duck on the label, too. I'll be "duck" taping the car cover and I need to silicone the loser windows of my six-four in preparation for my big trip. I took my six-five out for a ride back in the canyon and I almost collapsed. That's how weak I am! Well, it's time for my Donald Duck orange juice and Smooth-FM.||...there really is a brand called Duck Tape.|
I noticed that our web server has been extremely slow this past week. There is no intranet traffic, so one has to wonder. Perhaps it is the sinister force toying with the oversized lavahead again. All I can suggest is to turn off the Autoload Images option. Why wait ten minutes to see these cheesy graphics? Speaking of cheesy, I spent a few hours engaged in "duck" taping and siliconing my six-four. That put me in the mood to write out my appeal about that damned dough ... what the hell was it? Refer to the Saturday entry for details. As I was writing it out, fat ol' Mrs. Idiot slammed the shower door into the wall and made me jump. My pen slipped and I had a big line penned through the form. I was furious. Even though I had Smooth-FM on, I went on a slammin' rampage. Yowza! After that, I took my six-four out for a ride. Then, I took my six-five out for a ride. I just wish I could punch somebody in the face! But, hey! I'm a peaceful monk!
Yet another crisis has come up as I have discovered that I am down to $15 in cash. I have no way to access cash because of my Rube Goldberg method of financial management. After I get my monk haircut (armadillo look), I'll have just enough for a Whopper. I should have thought about this before my spending spree. I need to just go ahead and declare myself unfit for society. What is even more dumb is that all my loans come due at the end of September and I'm going on vacation! Sheesh!
I ran into the other Tom today. It seems we always end up standing and talking for about an hour. I have learned that Tom is gay, or he thinks he is. He has had some trying times as a result. Mrs. Idiot passed by us ... ho boy, she has gotten huge. I'm going to cut her some slack. I can imagine what she must feel like, especially during the babefest season. Sure, she has Mr. Idiot. But, how long will it be before he decides to revel in the babefest and give her the walking papers?
I must have too much time on my hands. Why else would I be thinking about this garbage? I think I shoulda got outta Dodge a few months ago. Now, I'm losin' it! I feel like I'm on Death Row. I think I need a project. I'm going to take two empty Bush's cans and tie a long string to the center of each. Then, I'll see if The Bull or the Bishop will try out my new phone and call me.
The real issue with any journal is whether the writer has experienced a change (hopefully for the better). Or, is it the same old thing, day in and day out? I wish I had all my old written journals again. From what I can remember, they were pretty much the same, albeit crazy. The only thing that changed is that I got older and acquired incrementally more wisdom. That's all it is worth. The real question is whether I should go into seclusion for four days to save file space?
I got my monk haircut today, which left me with two bucks. The Bull called and we ended up riding out in the canyon. My six-five and I could not keep with The Bull. It was a humiliating experience. I could never pass for an athlete. That's why I'm a computer nerd. I'm too weak and clumsy to perform anything other than logging on. Sheesh! I'm so demoralized that I am forced to go into seclusion.
Hayfever! That's the word of the month. Everyone has got it bad this year except for The Bull. His immune system is beyond most humans. The heat seems to cook the pollen, causing it to explode into tiny microbes that invoke histemic frenzy. My eyes have been practically swollen shut and I can barely breathe, what, with the wheezing and all. All the more reason to remain in the closet. I may not even come out anymore! I have not shaved since Wednesday, and all I've eaten is cereal. The Bishop has been living a similar life. He was fired a few weeks ago, and Fruity Pebbles has been his meal of choice. Yowza! And, either my PCMCIA modem or Winsock is giving me trouble. I have not been able to log on. I keep getting a "No Carrier" message. Maybe my phone is out, or it could be reading my brainwave activity!
The heatwave continues ... the babefest continues ... and, unfortunately, so does the hayfever. I am making some crucial moving decisions today, including whether I should discard my broken French Press. I found that my notebook computer takes up the most space. Think about it. Look at all the boxes that came with it and the software. The PCMCIA modem came in a big box, too. We are slaves to our packing crates! We can't throw 'em away. What if we moved? What if something needs to go back for service? I need to get rid of everything. Most of the junk we buy is either because of babes or the lack of them. Why did you buy that Mickey Mouse phone? What about that car? You could have bought a six-four. What about that mountain bike? Wasn't that for Coleena? What about that 133mHz Pentium computer? Is it quick on hurdy-gurdy downloads? That's right. All because of babes.
There was a thin film of fine yellow dust on all the cars in the Roach Motel lot. Yep, pollen! That's how much pollen is in the air. The "duck" taping I did kept very little of that yellow dust out of my poor six-four. So, now I'm allergic to the loser's wheels! I went to check my mail with my pollen infested six-four. This just in ...
My appeal was refused, and I owe a good sum of money as well as a 30 percent penalty. That and the prospect of gas prices going up to $3 per gallon has just about precluded my trip to Oregon. I'm not sure how I am going to explain this to my collaborator. I am in a bad way. Fortunately there was a hoe-down at BigFoottm's to cheer me up! The sinister force is breaking me down. I think my old boss had a hand in this because I refused to work for free. He and three others got a 10 percent pay raise recently. That's after everyone else heard that crap about the "budget." He now makes over $65,000 per year. Me ... I've got to eat Bush's baked beans to make it. Now, I can't even afford that. Frankly, I think the time has come for me to move on. I'm going to start packing tonight. I'm not even sure if I am just being irrational right now. All I know is that I need a 40-dog of King Cobra. Don't let the smooth taste fool ya! And, thanks to my new virtual homey email@example.com for writing in!
|You are probably wondering what happened to the monk attitude. I don't know either. The sinister force has pushed me too far. I glanced through my journal of this past year and wondered how anyone could have tolerated that level of stupidity. And, this is how I am rewarded for my sobriety. Sheesh! My nerves have calmed down a bit today. My collaborator called while I was hastily packing my clothes last night. If it wasn't for baby, I would be outta here by now. Only nine more days before baby visits Convalescent City again!||And, this is how I am rewarded for my sobriety.|
It was overcast and humid here with a few drizzles. That didn't stop the babefest, though. For a computer nerd, it doesn't matter. Speaking of which, I tried to spruce up one of the volumes of this journal and the cheesy editor screwed it up. It took me over two hours to rebuild it when all of sudden the modem pool kicked me off. The new file was lost. Then, I came to find out that the Cardinal was trying to call me for all-you-can-eat Chinese during that time. I lost the file and I missed dinner with the gang, all because of this piece of crap. I grabbed the Roach Motel table and picked it up. I was ready to chuck it through the window. Later, as I heated up a frozen Tina's burrito, I could feel the rage building. My whole body was shaking and I thought I was going to lose my mind. I couldn't even speak for over ten minutes. I know that if the sinister force toys with me one more time, I will have to be committed. I came so close to losin' it that it was scary. What am I going to do?
I took my six-four out for a ride, then I took my six-five out in the canyon. The rain did little to clear the pollen. I also checked on a rack for transporting the six-five. Whoa! Not cheap! My nerves couldn't take it. I may have to go back into seclusion today, given my fragile mental state. Ho boy.
The weather cleared up a bit, although the heatwave is over. I met Mateo and his buddy Horace at Avenues around noon. We have not made it to the gym yet, although we intend to (whenever any of us can get up at 6am). Tonight is the season finale of Homicide. We cannot break with tradition! Coffee and Homicide at Big John's. Aside from that, the book is now about 91 percent done. Yowza!
The Bishop mentioned to me that he and The Bull made up the story about that gym babe, Christina. Actually, there is no such a babe. So, they both never went out with her. The ruse was a joke The Bull wanted to pull on the ol' eunuch. The Bishop also said that The Bull has a thing for one of the Applebee's waitresses, Jennifer (who also goes to the gym). She apparently has a thing for The Bull. That explains why The Bull always wants to go to Applebee's. I'm glad I have Free Agent and LView now, so I can check out the hurdy-gurdy binary newsgroups. Just kidding! Only six more days before my collaborator visits Convalescent City!
|The Bull came by this afternoon. He wanted to hit the trail. So, I dusted off my six-five and off we went. The Bull was way ahead of me until he swerved to miss a big bump. The next thing I knew, he was airborne. He and his bike hit the ground sideways and he must have skidded about 20 yards. He hit his face and suffered a number of abrasions, cuts, and puncture wounds. The bike made it unscathed. I put his chain back on while he was getting his bearings. He broke his new watch and sunglasses, too. We passed the gym on the way in. He wanted to stop there and dress his wounds. I knew I couldn't go in there, so I waited outside. Twenty minutes passed. I decided to meet him at the Bishop's workplace. As it turns out, Coleena and several other babes were at the gym. He told me that Heather and Shelly made a big deal out of his injuries. They wanted to take him home and nurse him. This man is a legend.||The next thing I knew, he was airborne.|
It was a night at the drive-in for the Cardinal, The Bull, the Bishop and the ol' eunuch.. We saw Twister and Executive Decision. I called moms before we left. She was supposed to call later, but I knew I wouldn't be back in time. After I came back, I called my collaborator. What a day! Also, thanks to firstname.lastname@example.org for writing in!
I bought several boxes of cereal. That will suffice as my meals for the rest of the week until baby shows up. Only four more days! I should get organized here before baby arrives. I have been contemplating sending the Time Bomb (clock) back to Hawai'i, but I can't decide. Until I figure that out, I can't even clean this place. That is how intricately intertwined everything is around here.
The weather has changed for the worse. It has been overcast and windy. The heatwave is over for the time being. I would not be surprised if it started raining. It's a good thing I have my computer. I wish I had it goin' on like Gomer! He probably has big bank, big car, big house, and big ... nah, it's a Vienna Sausage. Everybody, Gomer is in da house! Put yo' hands together and give it up fo' Gomer!
I am starting to wind things down around here. For one thing, the Time Bomb will be heading to Hawai'i. I just hope it doesn't start ticking in the box. I can just see the bomb squad soaking it in water and opening it to find my drenched clock. I have been listening to The Idiots making all kinds of noise vacuuming and engaged in the slammin' soirée. They must be doing some Spring cleaning. Whee! When I think about The Idiots and all the other fools I come into contact with everyday, I can't help but conclude that people have become more stupid. Damned stupid. What if your brain surgeon acted like Pauly Shore? Or, Gomer?
|Big Bank Hank||Loser|
|Big Car||Yes!||Hell no!|
|Big House||Yes!||Hell no!|
|Health Care||Only the finest!||Cheap HMO|
|Fitness||Best gyms!||Sears weight set|
|Equipment||Summer Sausage!||Vienna Sausage|
|Babes||Thousands!||Hand(s), Inflatable Babe|
For some reason I have been on the edge of violence all day. I don't know why. Perhaps it is because of this trying week I just completed. Maybe it is because I am going to face the music in three weeks. I must make crucial decisions about where I will be going in life. Whatever the case, I need to chill. For those of you going away for sun and fun this Memorial Day weekend, have a great time!
Sappy as it sounds, I really do miss baby. I have many other things to distract me like my beloved computer. I also have a lot of packing to do. I have less than three weeks here. Baby is afraid that I will not make it up to Oregon to visit. However, I made a promise to her that I would and I am a man of my word. I hate to close this chapter in my life but I am optimistic that the new chapters will be everything (and more) that any person can hope for.
I stopped in to see the Bishop after taking in some recycling. He had called last night and talked about plans for a BBQ. He could not get hold of The Bull so the BBQ was canceled. Since he got one of his old jobs back, he's been busy. So, he has had little time to see his babe. The Bishop mentioned that The Bull has been showing his injuries from the biking accident to all the babes in the gym. That does it! I'm trading my six-five in for a Big Wheel! Also, many thanks to all who have written in, including my old friend email@example.com!
The fog has been lingering longer everyday. I find myself hoping for the heatwave to return. I decided to put the K-Mart and also my six-five up for sale. It breaks my heart, but I cannot become a slave to my possessions. I will also eventually sell the six-four. I could, of course, stop writing these foolish journals and go to WORK like Gomer. Then, I could keep my possessions and acquire more. Unfortunately, that is just not enough incentive for me to commit myself to a 60-hour work week. All I want is peace and quiet.
On a brighter note, the novel is nearly done. It is well over the length we had set as a cutoff. The hard part will be editing it to its final draft form. Then, even harder, will be selling it. Perhaps it is just a foolish dream. I do not want to envision failure, but that is all part of the risk. At least I have been assured that LoserNet will be around through Summer. That buys me some time to shop around for ISPs. So, it is just about the time for the season finale. We'll finish out the last few days as we prepare for the big move. There will be a teary-eyed goodbye to the old cast. Who knows what will happen after that?
I went out food shopping and came home just in time for a mini-hoe-down with BigFoottm and Clem. What will I do when I don't have that to come home to? The Bull called during that time, too. He said that the Cardinal had wanted to go out to dinner tonight but, apparently, we did not touch bases. Maybe tomorrow. The Bull told me about all the usual babes that were giving him a lot of attention including Tam and Rachel. He mentioned that Jen in San Diego wants him to visit. Also, Renata in LA wants him to stay there for a week. He went on a date with Emily last week before she moved to Arizona. And, Emily wants him to visit. See what I will be missing?
My collaborator and I talked on the phone for the last two nights. Why do I still refer to baby as "my collaborator"? Baby and I have an interesting situation. We are living the po' boy version of a Danielle Steele novel. Granted, it will never be a NBC mini-series. I have a difficult time with the concept because I know that Summer will pass very quickly. Then, what? I want to move back to Hawai'i for a number of reasons. If I am going to live a tormented life, then I might as well live in Paradise. Some would ask, what better paradise is there than being with baby? I don't have an answer. I have no idea what motivates the ol' loser's decisions. What I do know is that baby has proven to be a special person. Who else would drive a thousand miles for a weekend with the ol' loser? It used to be that I, like a lot of guys in my age group, had very foolish conceptions about how the world turns. For example, at one time I would never have considered a relationship with a single mom. Too much baggage. Instant family. Red flag. What kind of self-righteous thinking was that (as if a 42-year-old loser is some kind of prize)? It is the same kind of idealistic thinking that presently keeps The Bull from finding the right babe. It is also why people like The Master are still single and may remain so. It is probably the same thought process that middle-aged guys use to rationalize lusting over 20-year-old babes. Why am I even discussing this? After two weeks of the ol' loser's routine, baby will probably be fatigued. I will then be back on the road again in my journey to nowhere.
The Cardinal called to tell me to meet him and The Bull for all-you-can-eat Chinese. I arrived a little late, but I didn't miss much as the conversation was centered on ... you guessed it, babes! In fact, that is all we talked about. I did find out that Matt is throwing a big dinner party tomorrow and we are all invited. I may have to go since that will probably be the last time I see Matt in a long time. Eric is now in love, apparently. The Cardinal said that one of the signs of being in love is that the gym becomes of secondary (or less) importance. Both Eric and the Bishop have been going to the gym a lot less, according to The Bull. Me ... I haven't been going to the gym at all. Sheesh!
I have had to rethink my mail situation. I was going to have my mail forwarded to Hawai'i, but that will wreak havoc with stuff specific to Cali. It would also jeopardize my residency status. There are so many things to prepare for, and so little time. I will have to keep my mailbox here. I will have the mail forwarded to Oregon (if baby permits), but I need to find someone to still check my box for me. It is hard to find anyone to do that. People are willing to help, yet they always get caught up in their own personal stuff and forget. However, my creditors are not as forgiving.
Today was a beautiful day with no traces of fog. Oddly, it was not a babefest. I tried to work on the book. All that is really left is the task of editing since it is essentially done. I found the Writer's Guide that lists all the publishers available and perused it. That was a bit discouraging since I realized just how much work it will take to sell the final manuscript. Sometimes I feel as though what little creative juices I have are being zapped by the mundane crap around me. I wish I knew how to be rejuvenated. I wish I knew where I can refuel my vitality and vigor and actually feel alive instead of walking around like a zombie with an attitude (ZWA). Maybe I never had that zeal. Maybe I have always been a putz.
I took my six-five back in the canyon late in the afternoon. I rode alone since The Bull is still recovering from his injuries he sustained in a failed attempt at a death-defying stunt. You won't find me doing that. I always take the easy way because I am a weakling and my coordination is very poor. I have no athletic abilities and that constantly puts my manhood in question. It's easier for me to be a computer eunuch.
Today was a definitely a scorcher. I am sure that there was a babefest at the beach. Fortunately, the hotter it gets, the more inclined I am to seek a dark corner and play with my computer. And, play with my computer I did! I haven't really heard from anyone other than the gym gang. Nobody knows I exist, I assume. It won't matter because I will cease to exist in 12 days anyway. I have contemplated getting in touch with everyone to say goodbye. Now, it seems like more trouble than it's worth. I don't really expect to hear from anybody after I leave. They will cease to exist as did the myriad of other friends I have lost touch with. I used to take it personally. Now, I don't care. Most of the people I know hang out with the ol' loser to kill time. If they had something else better to do, they would do it. I certainly cannot provide any excitement. I'm a depressing putz. It is 24/7 chronic anhedonia time here!
Baby (aka my collaborator) is probably the best friend I have right now. However, things have progressed beyond the friend stage. Whether that was a mistake or not remains to be seen in the future. Until then, I am happy with what we have. The world is a lonely place and there is little trust. Perhaps that is why I see so many people walking around as if they could give a krunk about anyone or anything. They don't need anyone, they'll tell you. Two minutes later they are talking your ear off about themselves. They don't want to hear what you have to say, though. I learned that a long time ago. That is why I don't talk much these days. It is even too competitive to have a conversation! Some say that Gen-I is over. Yeah, right. Watch a group of people heading to a door at the same time. If it wasn't so pathetically funny (and I wasn't so pathetically puny), I'd be slappin' heads right and left. Sheesh!
I was just about to head to the canyon when The Bull pulled up. He said that the Cardinal had some extra tickets to the regional bodybuilding show. We walked up to the auditorium but we did not find the Cardinal. The babes at the entrance wanted to let The Bull go in for free. At first, they thought he was one of the competitors. They would never mistake that of the ol' loser. In fact, one of the babes asked The Bull, "Is that puny guy with you?" The Bull was kind enough not to leave me outside. So, we walked back. He left for a date. I took my six-five back in the canyon. When I got back, I had bugs in my hair, mouth and nose. The heat seems to make them want to buzz around the oversized cranium a lot more.
The heatwave continued today. My blinds were cleaned and "voluntarily" charged to my security deposit by the Roach Motel. Since the guy was doing several apartments, he disturbed Fido and caused a barking tirade that went on for hours. The barking tirade, in turn, woke up BigFoottm. That caused him to start pacing (shades of Loser!). Clem came by shortly afterward. I was beside myself to maintain my sanity. I don't know why but I am ready to engage in violence. Remember when you were a kid and you became fussy when you were overtired? I feel the same way now. Instead of crying, I want break everything in sight. I want to explode and demolish this building with my hands. Of course, as puny as I am, that would be impossible. Sheesh! The Cardinal organized a BBQ at his place. I got there early to do the 'queing. Randy dropped in and stayed for a bit. The Bull arrived fashionably late. It was more like an hour late. The Cardinal wanted to wait for him, so the food was cold by then. After dinner, The Bull and the Cardinal went to get some videos. They rented Showgirls. The Bull said that they chose that one because he wanted to see my reaction. Yeah, right. After the video, I left. It was a nice get together, especially for as hot as it was all day. As I drove home, I felt a sense of loss. It will be hard to say goodbye. The boys want to do a few more things before I depart.
|My six-four will need maintenance before I make the drive up north. I have put off most of the maintenance for over three years since I rarely drive more than a couple of miles. It would be so much easier to take the train. People who don't have a car complain about not having a car, but a car is a burden of responsibility. If I didn't know better, I would say that the whole auto industry is a conspiracy. We are made to believe that we need cars, and we need expensive cars. Government must support the auto industry, too. Heavy industries must be kept operational in case of armed conflict. A quick retooling will convert those plants into armament factories. In effect, our love of cars is a vital part of that subsidization. That's why my next car will be a bus pass.||If I didn't know better, I would say that the whole auto industry is a conspiracy.|
I spent a good hour trying to get appointments for my six-four. They will be spread out over the week. Then, I spent over an hour looking for a shipping envelope. I went to four different stores, wasted a quarter tank of gas, and still no envelope. I returned to the Roach Motel only to hear Mrs. Idiot finishing up lunch. Yes, the garbage disposal was run once again. Then, I heard her sharpening her cutlery. To push my sanity to the limit, there was another scorcher and babefest. I went back out in search of the elusive shipping envelope. Two stores later, I found it for 99 cents. I had to wait in line forever to buy it as the line was almost out the door. It's days like this that make seclusion sound so good. My computer keyboard is also taxing my patience. It is so cheap that it always misses characters. I've taken to pounding in every keystroke now. I expect most of the keys will be inoperable very soon. I wanted to take my six-five out for a ride but I was too lazy. When I finally felt like going, it was already getting dark. Fortunately, BigFoottm was home pacing and Mrs. Idiot was preparing a 45-course dinner. Now, that's entertainment!
By 10pm, there was a full-scale slammin' soirée and a hoe-down. I felt a twinging feeling in my head. It was in my brain and it made my eyes flutter. I knew I was on the verge of a violent rage. I am starting to worry. I can feel the surge and I must consciously work myself down. I am sure that this is not a normal occurrence. It may be wise if I do not travel north this Summer. I may need psychiatric help. Damnit!
I took my six-four in for the first of a series of maintenance appointments. The day was beautiful once again, and it looked like the beginnings of another scorcher. Caroll sent me a card in lieu of actual conversation. I will try to stop in to visit her on my way north, if I am not committed to an asylum before then. While I was reading Caroll's card again, she called. I will definitely be stopping in now.
My six-four took up most of the day with the recall stuff and radiator flush. Now, I'm told, I need a new radiator. I will do that work myself. I have to get the transmission serviced, too. I may just forget it if the fluid looks okay. I took my six-five out into the canyon. At least it doesn't need a few hundred dollars for maintenance. Sheesh! I got a call from one of my homeys, Fullcan. He now lives in the Bay area. He also wants me to stop in to visit. Fullcan goes back to the Homer Notebook days. Mike (from the Del Rio Research Center days) wrote because he read about the upcoming trip. I will try to stop in to visit him and his family. All in all, this could be a fun Summer ... if I am not on Thorazine!
I only have eight days left at the Roach Motel. It is time that I think about doing some serious (midnight) cleaning. I also need to finish packing away the junk that is lying around. Lime Away Day is also just around the corner. I also need to start vacuuming every night after midnight. You cannot have this kind of fun everyday. You will be right here with me as I clean every part of my little shoebox. Right now, though, my main concern is whether I should cash in my Dogg Pound emergency rap CD or not. Sheesh! What a season finale! Are you still awake?
The Keeper of Lost Lives
The 42-Year-Old Virgin ... Tralfaz
The Bull ... Himself
The Cardinal ... Himself
Baby ... Herself
You ... Yourself
And a small handful of extras!
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© Copyright 1996 by The 42-Year-Old Virgin.
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