Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.

In any event, it no longer exists in my kitchen.



I've apparently been possessed by the spirit of Salvador Dali. Love me for who I'm not, but don't love me tomorrow, for that will never arrive.

listening to: bloc party. monty python.
in my sink: a bowl, two cups, and some spoons.

I'm sick to death of the "What ... Are You" quizzes.

I really don't care what cereal/cartoon character/eighteenth century French novelist you are. You are NOT "Capn' Crunch!" You're a damn PERSON! Why the HECK are you comparing yourself to a CEREAL? What possible useful purpose is this serving? Are you that bored?

I mean I've been bored out of my skull too, but even then I don't take these stupid quizzes, because they're STUPID.

In fact, I think I'm starting to realize just why you and I are so bored all the time. Our lives are slowly but steadily being filled up with this mindless drivel. This thing, this network of adolescense, this internet that has become so ubiquitous in our daily lives and was once hailed as our LIBERATOR FROM PASSIVE COMMUNICATION, the INFORMATION SUPERHIGHWAY providing the KNOWLEDGE OF THE WORLD AT OUR FINGERTIPS, is now filled with all this meaningless content. You can't even complain about the spam in your email anymore, because you're doing it too. People, the terrorists have won.

Remember back in 1995 when this was supposed to free us from the boob tube? It's interactive! I think what we've found out is that we act and interact just as inanely as the television network executives.

Stop the insanity, everyone. Take back your thoughts. Use your mind to actually enrich your lives. Read a book, maybe. Or, here's a thought: write some content of your own on your blogs instead of cutting and pasting the code from the Which "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" Character Are You" quiz you just took.

I'm taking my own advice and turning off this interactive boob tube now.

listening to: ennio morricone.
in my sink: a plastic bowl and a coffee maker.

perambulate puh-RAM-byuh-layt, intransitive verb:
To walk about; to roam; to stroll; as, "he perambulated in the park."

1. NO ONE WOULD EVER SAY THAT.


2. If I ever see someone perambulating in the park, I'm calling the cops. Or running away screaming. Disgusting perverts.

listening to: Bob Marley, The Ladies and Gentlemen
in my sink: I forget. A cup and a spoon. I think they ran away. I think I made that joke before.