i have too much responsibility at work, i've decided.



i think that jesus is dying. he's been looking particularly shitty lately. he gets out of the hospital tonight, and should be in the office tomorrow. i put a photo of a small child on a playground in a frame on his desk. i figure that i'll switch out the photo on a regular basis. i'm looking for strange photos that are work safe. it's too bad that strangeinsertions.com doesn't pass that test.



yankee hotel foxtrot is such a great record. i made a tape tonight for the bat mobile. a lot of it sounds like the cure without really whiney vocals.



i dreamt that ross shot me because he thought that i was fucking his girlfriend. then he stuck me in the trunk of a car. as if being gut shot by my buddy wasn't enough, it was hot in the trunk. he kept me in there for a few days, only popping open the trunk to give me capri sun pouches. it was very much like that toy box experience when i was two-ish. that was a blue toy box, and this was a blue cadillac. except i was bleeding, and there was this green corrosive shit on the bullet. i found that out once i extracted the bullet. i had to tear the entrance wound wider. it must have been something huge like a 50 cal because it had mushroomed into a wad of twisted corrosive metal that was about the size of my fist.



eventually, he dumped me into a well much like the silence of the lambs well. there wasn't a small dog, cross dressing (would you fuck me? i wouldn't), or lotion, though.