Wednesday May 1, 1996

It was bad enough that it has been in the 80s all night, but to have to be awakened by Mr. Idiot talking at the top of his lungs was enough to bring me close to violence. Mr. Idiot talks like some pretty boy. He talks very fast and he goes on and on. He's pathetic when he attempts to be animated. Mrs. Idiot joined in, and it sounded like a very poor rendition of Mad About You.

"Good morning, my little Butterball. You are looking so delicious and tender that I could just baste you with my love juices. I would take your sweet dinner rolls and savor them in my mouth. Your candied yams ...," rambles Mr. Idiot at 10 words per second.

"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."
 

Yuck! Bring back the Galloping Gourmet already! Fortunately, I only have a little over a month left here at the "roach motel." There might be some houseparties here, eh?

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 kirkm@battelle.org and KaNexKaNe@aol.com (formerly FrostbiteX) and our old friend joshm@rga.com for writing in!

Sleep is a word that's not in my vocabulary. Yes, it's sleep deprivation time once again. Blame it on the heat and that famous old man malady, post-nasal drip. There is nothing like being awakened by one's own choking. The whole problem is the amount of pollen and dust in the air. Because of the wind tunnel that runs through Convalescent City, we get to enjoy living in the allergy capital of the world.

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.

Guess what? It's another scorcher and babefest. The wind kicked up and everyone including the ol' eunuch has been sneezing all day. I had to stop by the Mac lab because I needed to convert a file for my collaborator before FTPing it over to her. Naturally, it was a complete babefest in there. I was glad to get back to my little shoebox. Before I forget, thanks to dcg6579@tam2000.tamu.edu for writing. I should point out that I have nothing against aggies. Actually, a few years before I lived at the Highland homeboy house, I lived with with some aggies from Ukiah and Salinas. That's why I know those hoe-downs so well! At the homeboy house, we called those houseparties. It's all the same when you're dropping 'em back!

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).

The moronic friends of the Idiots woke me up when they slammed the shower door into my wall. Actually, I've about had it with this crap. I'm tired of being considerate. I have a little over a month here ... Lord, I just saw one of them ... she is bigger than my refrigerator! Anyway, I have had it! I think I will start making a lot of noise around here.

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 am close to losin' it although it probably doesn't seem that way. At this point, I would probably have erupted in senseless violence had it not been for Smooth-FM. I know that sounds stupid. I have the K-Mart on constantly now, if I am here at all. I have not even worked on the book. Frankly, I'm ready to throw in the towel. I'd rather get hammered and pass out. To add to my grief, Windows and Netscape ... what a losing combination! I have removed about every TSR I knew of including my beloved screen saver. It still crashes the computer. To tell you the truth, I think all those options in the ini files are just placebos. They do absolutely nothing.

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!

So, I made it through without getting hammered. Whew! I'm still broke and demoralized. However, I am not going to make any hasty decisions (like buying anything else). It will be business as usual until the next crisis. I forgot to mention that the Bishop clued me on why The Bull was in hurry to buy the bikes. Apparently, several of his babes like to ride. It has nothing to do with the team (Team Loser) we are setting up. One of those babes is Coleena. The Bishop also spilled the beans that The Bull gave her a dozen red roses and swept her off her feet. Then, the Bishop said that The Bull knows another babe, Jennifer, who is into mountain biking. She works at Applebee's, one of The Bull's hangouts. Finally, the Bishop told me that, Christina, a drop-dead gorgeous gym babe, is back. She is the one that both The Bull and the Bishop have dated, and she was the babe who tried to jump The Bull's bones on their first date. How do these guys do it?
 

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.

The weather just continues to be awesome, which means ... you know. Unfortunately, this has turned out to be a bad hayfever year. This is surprising considering the limited rainfall we had. Then, there is Spring Fever. The Bull has been talking a lot about his buns of steel. He listed off a number of babes who have felt his buns of steel, now including Coleena. The Bull also mentioned the number of people who have complimented him on his incredible good looks. I could sense that the Bishop was feeling a little exasperated after hearing that. Can you blame him?

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!

You know, I have been given the tools to promote these ramblings in order to get them published. Actually, the promotion has been done for me. That's how pathetic I am. I must be waiting for opportunity to knock. I have eliminated all distractions but I am just as dysfunctional as before. Whassup wi' dat? Maybe I have been listening to The Master too long. Or, maybe I have already flipped my wig!

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 have been gathering things to give to Goodwill. It didn't amount to much. I will give away most of my clothes. I don't need them. I wear the same clothes everyday anyway. I can get by with two pairs of shorts and a couple of T-shirts. I'll keep my broken French Press and the Time Bomb (perfect accessories to match Mr. Potato Head). It was a nice day again, so naturally there was a babefest. I'm glad that I haven't been going to the gym. I'd rather be puny than be reminded that I am a loser!

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 journal is rapidly approaching the arbitrary size constraints I established. File size is the main reason everything is kept so brief. I am forced to leave out the excruciating details. What is interesting is that the size of one of my files is the equivalent of just two hurdy-gurdy files. I guess a picture is literally worth a thousand words (or more)!

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.

You thought I got hammered, didn't you? No, I'm still on the wagon. What a weekend I chose to go in seclusion, though! There was yet another heatwave and I was cookin' in the closet. I could have gone outside, but what's the use? There would only be a babefest. I see why computer nerds download those hurdy-gurdies now. Did you remember moms this weekend? I sent moms a map of Cali so she could see where I am at. All these years and moms is still wondering where I live!

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.

My collaborator and I talked on the phone for a couple of hours last night. Baby will be coming down here to visit in ten days. The book, by the way, is coming along. It is about 88 percent done. There is a lot of work that needs to be done before it could be considered publishable. It has been hard to work on the book during this heatwave. It was hot once again today. I have also used the heatwave as another excuse for not going to the gym, although that's the best time to go because no one is there!

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 BigFoot^tm'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 tamae@twics.com for writing in!

I was sitting here eating a Tina's frozen burrito when I noticed that one burrito has 30 percent of the daily fat allowance. Yet, the package claims "no lard." This is the kind of crap I have to eat now that those fat-ass bureaucrats have managed to squeeze blood out of a turnip. People at the Post Office were probably afraid that I was going "postal" yesterday. After I opened the appeals envelope, I clenched the paperwork. Then, I flung the door open and yelled, "Those f---in' losers!" I had my shades on for the sake of ambiance. The cheap letter had a payment stub with no perforations. I tore it off wildly. It shredded into three pieces. I took some packing tape and put it haphazardly over the pieces. That's the way I'll mail it.
 

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?

A freak storm hit last night with extremely gusty winds and heavy rainfall. My six-four was filled with water and none of the instruments work now. The loser car cover was shredded once again. To make matters worse, a leak above my window in my shoebox has just erupted into a waterfall. The sinister force has struck again. I am barely functioning. Violence is ... I was so overwhelmed by rage that I lost my thought. To add to the overall sinister situation, someone sent me a Word document that was infested with the Concept virus. I did not have Scanprot installed, so I quickly went to download it. I guess this devious individual wanted me really to lose it.

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.

My collaborator called last night. I was a little more coherent since I had just downloaded the new version of Netscape. Well, hey! I'm a computer geek! Big Don called me early this morning. He wants me to be over at his place tomorrow morning. The Bishop and I are going to help him do some work out in his yard. He is still recovering from the operation. He mentioned that the Bishop got a job. The Bull is supposed to be there, but he may not make it because of his overwhelming social agenda.

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!

I went over to Big Don's this morning. The Bishop was already out digging holes in the yard. Big Don rented a jack hammer, and the Bishop and I did the hard labor. Later, Big Don 'qued some burgers for lunch. We watched Braveheart and sat in the hottub. Today was a pleasant day, until I went to the Post Office and found that I received a jury summons. It just doesn't end, does it? I yelled out, "Those stupid krunks!" Everyone in there turned to look. For excitement, I took my recycling in this evening. People were driving like maniacs. As it were, this is some kind of big party weekend. I was glad to return to my little shoebox.

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!

It has been a phone kind of day. My collaborator called this morning and we talked for about three hours. Only five more days! The Bull called right afterwards. He gave me the lowdown on some of his babes. It seems that the weatherman's babe is moving to Texas with the weatherman. They are to be married before they leave. The Bull felt that she did indeed have a thing for him, and probably still does. She had to opt for second best. The Bull also said that the Bishop has been confiding in him at least two times a week. Speaking of babes, BigFoot^tm had a babe over last night. They did the wild thing three times. I have a feeling that this was not the same babe as last time. She was a lot more vocal. BigFoot^tm could have also let Clem borrow his pad. That's teamwork for you!
 

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 islegirl@aloha.com for writing in!

I never realized what a useless slug I am until today. Here I am doing absolutely nothing except taking up space. I spent all day on the computer. Then, my homey Skip sent me the URL for an article about why babes should date computer geeks. Interesting points, but tell it to the babes! Speaking of babes, The Bull mentioned that several babes were waving to him while we were heading out on the trail (prior to the accident). Well, they weren't waving at anybody else I know of. That's probably why there are so many e-romance popping up. A nerd can hide behind the computer screen and act like a stud. Then, when baby flies out to meet "stud," she is greeted by a wimpy geek with oily hair and twigs for limbs. As he tries to put his twigs around baby, she slips out and runs back onto the plane. End romance. Isn't that how it always is?

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.

I received a piece of e-mail from some clown, one nawick@waste.org. Whether this is a real domain or not, I don't know. Don't care. My buddy sarcastically praised me for all the time I spent on these pages and insinuated my obsession with my old pal, Loser. Then, he ended by saying that he had to get "back to WORK (caps his)." Whoa! Thanks, Gomer! I sure hope you're making big bank at your JOB. Is it at mpsusa.com? I like it when I hear from winners. It's nice to know what it's like on the other side of the tracks. Sheesh! Red flag! Ladies and gentlemen, watch out for this clown in the future. He's the guy who is going to bring a gun to WORK and shoot everybody because he accidentally deleted his whole hurdy-gurdy collection.

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!

My collaborator almost had to cancel her trip down here this weekend due to unforeseen circumstances. Fortunately, baby will be able to make it. The weather has cleared up slightly, but it is a far cry from a heatwave. The odd part is that it never rains here in May. Perhaps my buddy Gomer had a hand in all of this. Aside from Gomer, the novel is now 96 percent done. I thought I would never see the day. Whew!

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?

I discovered that I have a cavity. I wonder why it was not caught when I went to the dentist last month. That's the trouble with HMO providers. It's like going to Jiffy Lube. The only way one can get good health care of any kind is when one has big bank. In fact, big bank is all that matters. I took my six-four out for a ride to find a carrier for my six-five. The prices ranged from $150 to $230. Baha! Ha! Haaaa! That's over ten times my aggregate annual income, and thirty times what my six-four is worth. Big bank means everything. In fact, let's take a look, shall we?

Well, there you have it. What more needs to be said? With that, I took my six-five out for a ride. I may have to get rid of it, because I have no way to take it with me. Sheesh!

The weather has cleared up a bit, but the wind is still doing the wind tunnel thing. I had a lot of things to do today to get ready for baby's arrival late tonight. I had to clean the shoebox real good. I also had to get some more Bush's baked beans. Nothing but the best for baby! Just kidding! Frankly, I don't know why baby puts up with this crap. I can barely stand it myself. I sent off the Time Bomb (clock) today. It was a tearful farewell but we will be reunited again one day.

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!

My collaborator arrived at about 9:30 last night. Baby made it in record time even with the holiday traffic. I was busy playing on the computer like a true nerd when I heard a knock on the door. When I opened the door, I was greeted by baby's smiling face. We spent the evening getting reacquainted and talking. We didn't get to sleep until after four in the morning. We got up late and headed out to the beach. Avila Beach was still crowded, so we drove down to Pismo Beach. We spent a few hours getting a tan and walked along the long stretch of beach. We searched for a place that served the elusive (but world famous) Pismo clams. The only places around were of the deep-fried genre. We came home rather late and ended up eating at Fresh Choice for dinner. The rest of the evening was of the convalescent variety. Baby caught up on her sleep, and I reminisced about Gomer.

In an attempt to show my collaborator the truly convalescing nature of the area, we ended up in Morro Bay. Morro Bay is a sleepy little fishing community just north of Convalescent City. We walked down the compact version of Fisherman's Wharf and ended up eating at some fish and chips joint that pretty much made me ill. Sometimes I cannot believe what a true putz I am! We stopped off at Trader Joe's in the hope of running into Steph. She was not working today. We picked up some edible items that would offset that horrible deep-fried fish. Why baby puts up with my foolishness I do not know. We spent another evening back at the Roach Motel. Just call me Mr. Excitement! Sometime after we had retired for the night, baby woke me up to tell me that someone was outside. I looked up, and sure enough, there was some loser lurking outside. He had his face pressed against the window. It was either a Peeping Tom, a crook or Gomer. It was difficult to get back to sleep after that.

Unfortunately my collaborator had to leave today. We procrastinated as long as we could before baby departed at two. As with our last rendezvous, I began missing baby immediately after she left. I always have a nice time with baby and I just hope that it is the same for her. Baby came a long distance just to do a bunch of stupid things with the ol' loser, and I still wonder how baby puts up with it. I have spent a long time alone as a monk. It certainly had its advantages. However, there is a lot to say for having a babe. Babes tend to offset a guys' foolishness. Babes are a lot of work. Guys should realize that when they are chasing them. The problem is that most guys figure that once they get baby, the work is over. Not so. Babes require a lot of time and attention, but they reciprocate in so many other ways. I have come to realize that a good babe, a special babe, is very important in a guy's life. There is no substitute.

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 kafka@paranoia.com!

It has been difficult keeping my mind off of baby. My shoebox seems so quiet and empty. I can smell traces of baby's perfume, so I dare not clean anything for now. When I look around the shoebox, I can still see baby here. Smooth-FM is playing Sade and I cannot help but think of baby. It worries me because I don't know what to think anymore. I am sure that I will have a nice Summer with baby, but I'm afraid of the day that I have to say good-bye again. It was hard enough to say good-bye the last three times. I oftentimes wish that we had remained friends from afar. At least that would have eliminated the good-byes, but then I would have missed out on one of the best experiences in my life. Although I have not told her, baby does have a very special place in my heart. Baby only brings out the good in the ol' loser. She will read this and wonder why I never mentioned that. In a way, I guess I just did.

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.

I have had difficulty sleeping because I have been preoccupied with my finances. I'm not exactly sure how to handle them anymore. I can see why people have jumped off of buildings when in dire straits like myself. No dough leads to no self-esteem. Everyday when I see that I cannot afford to live like a decent human being, I feel like a true loser. I find that every decision, every discussion and every thought is linked to money. That was the case even when baby was here. The only things that are free anymore are the library and the air we breathe. We are made to feel guilty about accepting anything that is free. We must pay for it, or it is a handout. Feeling guilty about not forking out the dough is a dream come true for those in power. When our consumer reactions become Pavlovian, rest assured that there will be smiling faces in the boardroom. We are so conditioned that we believe that we are getting bargains when things are on sale. That is what regular prices should be! Some would respond by saying, "Oh no, the company would go out of business." That is how conditioned we are. We feel guilty about sale prices. Companies go out of business because of poor business decisions or inadequate capitalization, not because the consumer has demanded a fair price. All this misinformation we hear daily is propaganda to maintain the guilt. With the advent of credit, the supply and demand intersection is only based on how readily you pull your wallet out. It is never an issue of whether you will pull it out or not. They know you will. When baby was here, I felt it was protocol to dine out. Dining at mediocre restaurants twice was about $35, and one meal made me ill. Sitting at the Roach Motel with a couple of Trader Joe's frozen dinners was a much better experience to me except that I felt guilty for being a cheapskate. I like my squalid existence. I like living on my Bush's baked beans and coffee made in my broken French Press. That is all I have. That is far more than I deserve or need.

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 BigFoot^tm 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?

I am now down to exactly two weeks in this hellhole I call the Roach Motel. The hoe-down last night in the "corral" served to remind me of what I will not miss. Moving, in itself, is a little unnerving, especially when the move is to a new place. For me, what is more unnerving in this case is the sense of being homeless. I will only be able to carry the essentials. I don't own much, but some things won't fit in my six-four. My computer shipping box, software and documentation are too bulky to carry. What if my system crashes? Maybe I'm fretting over nothing. If the system crashes, then I'll need a new hard drive! Sheesh!

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 been playing with my finances again although I only have two weeks left here. Once again, I am trying to finagle my debts and consolidate them with a low interest cash advance. Why I bother I do not know. I guess I approach this whole issue of finance like I do life ... it is like Windows Solitaire, and I keep losing. The Roach Motel management is also toying with the oversized cranium. Everyday new forms show up to "aid in the moving process." Really, it is just a game to snake the security deposit. From what I understand, most people check out owing $400 because of alleged insufficient cleaning. It is little wonder why, with these games, that people have become so cynical. Everyone assumes they are going to be ripped off all the time. Why do we want to live like this?

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.

I ended up going to Matt's dinner party last night. The Bull was there, too. There were quite a few people there and we met some of them. This will probably be the last time that I see Matt for a long while. The Bull and I took some food over to the Bishop. The Bishop could not make it to the party because he was working. We watched a movie and they talked about babes. The Bishop said that he didn't get much sleep the night before. He apparently was up in the north county visiting baby for a couple of days. The Bull has been talking about Tam a lot considering that he says that he hates her. He told both the Cardinal and I that "she had her chance and she blew it." The Bull has been receiving a number of calls from his many babes. Jen in San Diego keeps calling and The Bull refuses to return her calls. Oddly, the Bishop mentioned to me about a week ago that he had talked to Nicole, one of The Bull's many babes. He said that he had heard conflicting stories between what The Bull said and what she said (about the date they went on). I would tend to believe her. According to Nicole, The Bull talked on and on into the night, mostly about himself, and she could not get away. The Bull has proven once again that he has more style, more technique, more finesse than one man should have! The Santa Ana winds were blowing after midnight on my way home, and the air was warming up for ... a heatwave!

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.

There was a beautiful full moon out last night. The air was warm, too. I talked to Steph for a bit. She wants to get together before I leave, but she was adamant about not having Tom along. She said that Tom had called her a week ago. For some reason, Steph has gotten to dislike Tom. She says that he gets on her nerves. She has also been working a variety of shifts at Trader Joe's. I took my recycling in after that. I had to pass through town. This must have been a party night as everyone was out. I stopped in at the Hermitage to see The Master. I needed to get the last tidbits of wisdom from him before leaving Convalescent City. We also reminisced about old times. The Master and I have known each other now for 24 years!

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 BigFoot^tm. 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.

There is much to do in so little time. I cannot seem to get around to doing anything. Everything is just another chore. Why couldn't I be more like The Idiots? They had a 19-course breakfast. The garbage disposal was run three times, at over a minute per session. All four of the drawers were opened and slammed shut countless times. It is beyond stupid. Speaking of The Idiots, they are going to remain here at the Roach Motel from what I can see. I cannot imagine how the three of them can stand it in that little shoebox. It is bad enough just for one person. I guess that is why they are The Idiots! If they had kids, they would be The Simpsons in the flesh. Doh! I plan to ship the K-Mart off the day before I leave, so I will be making a lot of noise as I pack and clean. Maybe they will come over to tell me to shut up. Baha! Ha! Ha! Haaa! I have to clean all my drawers and cupboards, too. I will clean them about midnight and continuously open and slam them shut. Well, hey! I have to make sure they close properly!
 

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, BigFoot^tm 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 went to the library for a while to cool off last night. When I got back, I tried to log on. For the third time, I was cut off. It takes me ten minutes to log on every time I get cut off. I think it is a faulty modem or router in the modem pool. Or, it could be this piece of crap modem that always gives me a "No Carrier" error message. Why do I have to put up with this useless crap? I'll tell you why ... it is because I do not have big bank. I exploded into a tirade. Things were flying around the shoebox. I kicked everything in sight out of my way. The fun part is that I had Smooth-FM on throughout the ordeal. I am a true psycho! Baby called in the aftermath of the reign of terror. Babes (except Mrs. Idiot) have a way of calming the savage beast. Of course, in my case, I was a savage puny mouse. I'm surprised that I didn't hurt myself. Sheesh!

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!

When I heard The Idiots return home last night at 9pm, I knew I needed to get outta here. So, I called Big John and went over to his place to chat. He had the tube up full blast. We couldn't hear a word we said to each other. It was beyond comical but it was better than sitting through a slammin' soirée. Something set off Fido early this morning and he barked continuously after that. It was bad enough that I was on a caffeine buzz, but today was my dentist appointment. Fido did little to quell my anticipation. As it turned out, it was not a major problem yet. I just need to keep an eye on the tooth. Thank goodness, as I don't think that my nerves could take anymore crap. I ran errands the rest of the day, and when I finally decided to settle in ... a hoe-down! Break out the Tony Llamas and swing yer partner roun' 'n roun' ... yeah, right. Stupid dickheads.

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?

That's right! No reruns on LoserNet, although I know that you want to read these journals over and over again ad nauseum. Join us for another season as the Keeper takes the ultimate journey, the Journey to Nowhere.

The Keeper of Lost Lives

Starring:
The 42-Year-Old Virgin ... Tralfaz
The Bull ... Himself
The Cardinal ... Himself
Baby ... Herself
You ... Yourself
And a small handful of extras!

Presented by Consolidated House of Loser Productions

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