Man, I am tired!
Seriously, tired!
I can't wait to get back
to my room and take a nap
once I get the DVDs off my bed.

In other news, I started reading a collection of Washington Irving short stories yesterday -- pretty good stuff! (Though not half as engaging as Kafka or Hawthorne.) What I find most interesting, though, is the popularity of the tale of Sleepy Hollow and the Headless Horseman -- while it's a neat little story, it doesn't strike me as something that should be the subject of tons of cartoons and movies. Having finally read the text itself, I think that the Disney version did more to popularize that fearful night ride of Ichabod Crane and his phantom pursuer than the original work.

Have you ever encountered shit stains in a urinal? I have. And I know how they got there, but seriously, who takes a shit in a urinal? Why would someone do that? This question has something in common with the deeper questions concerning the end and ultimate purpose of and reason for our very existence, because I don't have answers for them.

And read "Bacardi in Wonderland"! Ja.

So Bacardi didn't have his surgery yesterday after all -- they're going to wait a little longer and see if the problem corrects itself or something. I dunno; I'm no vet! So the little dog will be spared the caress of the knife for at least a little longer.

Caren wrote a poem today! Figured I'd follow suit. So here goes! (more...)

So Bacardi left shortly before the dawn of the new year, but last week he stopped in for ONE NIGHT ONLY, sporting his cool green sweater! Check him out -- I think he looks like a frog. 🙂 (more...)

I dunno if it was walking back here in the rain last night or inadvertently inhaling way too many glue fumes or some sickly combination of the two or something else entirely, but yeah, I'm back in illsville tonight. Unlike last time, it's a different kind of sick -- I'm not hacking up green phlegm ad infinitum, I just feel drained and like utter crap despite sleeping for ten hours, though admittedly about four of them were spent violently twisting about in the bed while mumbling to myself like a raving lunatic and wondering desperately and seriously why I couldn't think coherent thoughts, because these thoughts were utterly insane and yet I just couldn't stop the deluge of them from forcefully crashing down on the broken beach inside my sandy little skull. I almost feel like I'm not here, and like certain vital organs aren't here, because I've got these icky feelings of utter emptiness in my head and behind my eyes and in the back of my throat and in my hollow chest cavity and in the pit of my gut... I imagine this is what it would feel like to be disassembled molecule by molecule for the purpose of being transported to some other location via sci-fi teleportation methods. Beam me up, Scotty! Where are you sending me? I hope it's somewhere nice.

Seriously, it's too much. I decided I'd try to do some gluing with Angelique, whose head wire thingies came detached almost the second I got her out of the package... except I couldn't get the damned glue cap off because the fucking FUMES were strong enough to glue that thing on tight. So after a long and frustrating bit of prying with a fork and a screwdriver and finally some scissors, I was able *pop* the cap off... which soared up into the sky and riccocheted off of the ceiling and got lost amidst all of the crap on my top bunk. GREAT! But before looking for it I decided to glue Angelique's head wire thingies back onto her head, which wasn't quite as painful a process as the Kill Bill experiments went -- which, I must add, never did turn out quite right and cost me a patch or two of skin to boot -- but I'm still not completely satisfied with the finished product. Anyway, once that was done, I set out to find the cap... and, of course, I couldn't. Mind you, there's no space on my top bunk to actually maneuver atop it, so here I am clinging to the side of the thing with my toes while creeping from side to side so that I could claw through the clothes and stuffed animals up there with my arms free, but to no avail... and all the while, the fumes from the glue are filling the room -- they're still filling the room, and I feel a bit lightheaded, actually -- so finally I gave up and started trying to shove something, anything into the glue bottle's mouth to plug it up. But alas, nothing was small enough to fit into that narrow cavity, so I had to resume looking for the blasted cap, and found it nearly a half hour later. Yay.

I hope you appreciate what I just went through for you, Angelique, especially considering that you have zero articulation and that your cleavage consists of plastic and paint.