The Escapist

I know you are out there reading this thing. I can see you. You’re sitting there in your underwear smoking Pall Malls and using the tweezers to pluck the hairs off that mole.

Are you wanting me to be funny here? Serious? do you want reposting of all the political news I compulsively read? What?

What will make you give me the feedback I so desperately crave?

I feel like I’m stretched very thin.

I’m not sure why I feel that way; it’s not like I do much of anything. Work is still work. Mind numbing and generally feeling like a crappy way to make a buck, but they’re pretty good about giving me time off when I need it for school.

School’s a different matter. I’ve been in college for over two years now, and I’m getting tired of it all. That’s really not a good attitude to have, but what-cha-gonna-do? I’m only taking 3 classes this semester and it feels like I never have any time where I don’t have an assignment due, or test coming up. It’s aggrivating.

After school and work, I’m exhausted, and after Lisa’s full day at work and 2 hour commute, she’s even more tired than I am. She gets home around 7:30 most nights, and if I’m lucky, she’ll stay awake until 11:30. Aside from weekends, I average about 4 hours a day of awake-time with my girlfriend. And that really sucks.

***

Wow. What a whiny little shit I am. On to something fucked up.

Last night I had a dream that I was positive was really happening at the time. It didn’t feel like a dream, you understand. I was doing my Japanese homework (I had actually fallen asleep on the worksheet I was filling out and my drool ruined 4 answers.) and suddenly I really needed to piss. I don’t mean “man, it would be a good idea to empty my bladder soon” sort of need. I mean “Oh god! my crotch! It burns with the fullness of eternal suffering and awkward yoga positions!” sort of need.

Sp I run to the bathroom, barely in time, and proceed to urinate like my life depended on having a panel of judges score my arc on it’s asthetic value. But wait. It gets weird(er)! I can’t stop. I just keep pissing, and needing to flush the toilet every two minutes to keep the bowl from over flowing. After two hours of this, I still can’t stop, and my groin is burning like I’ve gotten 38 previously undiscovered STDs all stabbing me in the junk with pitchforks. The pain is so bad that my knees are buckling, and I start to back away from the toilet, still pissing, working harder to keep my aim centered on the bowl. I make it out of the bathroom and I’m pissing around a corner because that’s just how shit works in dreams. I backup all the way to where my cell phone is pugged into the wall. It’s been hours and I still can’t stop urinating. The stream of piss is hurling itself along almost completely unaided by me at this point, and I need to call 911. I want the Fire Department to come over and use one of those giant wrenches to turn off the flow going to my dick. I pick up the phone, and then I wake up. I’m holding my cell phone and it’s alarm is going off.

Like I said; fucked up, huh?

Ever since I upgraded to Wordpress 2.6 I’ve been getting a ton of comment and trackback spam.

It’s enough to make me want to set a hobo on fire.

Does anyone else have this problem? Not the burning hobo thing, the assloads of spam.

On the first Tuesday, after the first Monday, of the month of November, four years ago, I made a blog post.

The post contained one word. The word was “fuck.” And I repeated that word six hundred and sixty five times. Because, while Bush isn’t the Anti-Christ, he probably lives across the street from him.

And now tonight, after watching Barak Obama become our country’s President-Elect, I keep catching myself smiling slightly. We finally corrected our nation’s fuck-up from eight years ago.

I think I’ll just sit here quietly and polish off this bottle of Johnny Walker.

Goodnight, children.

I voted two weeks ago; I’m done.

But I’ve been compulsively checking news sites since midnight last night, terrified that I might miss some vital piece of information that I can then… do absolutely nothing with.

Fuck.

Every damn time. My brain meats begin swirling out of control some time on the first Monday of November every other year. It’s a sickness. But I’ve learned how to control it. I need enough caffiene to make me feel normal (”Normal” is a relative term given how horribly I abuse caffiene. I normally drink 2-3 pots of coffee a day. My kidneys will need to be replaced again in about a year at this rate. I suppose I should start checking around for cheap tickets to Tijuana again), and enough booze to keep me from climbing the walls with every announcement that a race can be called for a Republican.

This Saturday morning, Lisa and I went to the county’s Early Voting location and cast our ballots.

We took books to read and only had to wait about an hour before we got to vote. For a weekend morning, it seemed packed. I shudder to think about how it will be on Election Day. I foolishly didn’t vote early during Texas’ Primary and I was stuck waiting in line for close to three hours. For the primary, the lines were split up; right line for Republicans, left line for Democrats. Texas holds both party’s primary election on the same day in the same locations; just two roped of sections. If turn out is as high on Election Day as is was for that primary; those two lines will just be one huge line snaking its way out into the parking lot and end up being 4-5 hours of Suck.

So vote early, damn it! It’s easier than voting on the day. Early voting has a couple of locations per county instead of trying to remember where your precinct’s voting location is.

Find your Early Voting location in Texas

You can Early Vote through Oct. 31, from 8 A.M. to 5 P.M.

My birthday is next week.

I am turning 30.

I am not thrilled.

Shower me with love and gifts.

Mostly gifts, please.

Seriously, I think I’m getting sick and I’m blaming the Republican Party.

I’ve been paying an obsesive amount of attention to this year’s campaigns like a good little political-junkie, and lately the Republican town hall meetings have been giving me the heebie-jeebies.

McCain, apparently reacting drasticly to news that no one likes him, has switched his campaign to negative attacks against Obama. We have a financial crisis unlike anything seen in the country since the 30s as well as two on going wars, but McCain feels it’s more important to tell the American voters than they shouldn’t vote for Obama because he didn’t spit in a 60s-terrorist’s face upon meeting him.

But whatever. I can dig it. The Republicans have held the majority of power in the three branches of government for most of the last eight years. They don’t have a record of success to run on, and Bush has been quietly shoved in a corner for the last few months.

What I can’t stomach is how these town hall meetings that McCain and Palin are holding are looking more and more like the Nuremberg Rallies.

Here’s a bit from CNN’s Political Ticker today:

“When you have an Obama, [House Speaker Nancy] Pelosi and the rest of the hooligans up there going to run this country, we have got to have our head examined. It’s time that you two are representing us, and we are mad. So, go get them,” one man told Sen. John McCain at a town hall meeting in Waukesha, Wisconsin.

Even the Washington Post is starting to notice how vile it’s gotten:

“I can’t stand to look at him, I don’t trust him. I don’t like the circle of friends he keeps, I don’t like his policies,” Schmitz said of Obama. “I’m pissed off by it. I’m beyond mad. How is he climbing up in the polls?”

Moderate Republican Rep. Ray LaHood even spoke out against this bullshit:

When Barack Obama’s name has been mentioned by Sarah Palin, there are shouts of “terrorist,” and LaHood says Palin should put a stop to it.

“Look it,” LaHood said. ”This doesn’t befit the office that she’s running for. And frankly, people don’t like it.”

Watching video of these hate-mongers is giving me an ulcer.

(Ring)

Sam: Hello?

Monkey Xpress: Hello, Mr Xxxxxxx? This is Mary calling on behalf of Monkey Xpress? I’m calling in regards to your order placed on the 2nd of September?

Sam: Oh. Ok. Was there a problem with my credit card or something?

Monkey Xpress: Oh, no sir? Your bill is listed as paid? The problem is that your shipment will be delayed?

Sam: But I ordered my helper monkey a month ago. What’s the hold up? I was told that my order would take 3 weeks to ship to me.

Monkey Xpress: There’s been a problem with our last batch of merchandise, sir? This is just a courtesy call? There’s a note on your bill that another helper monkey will be over-nighted to you just as soon as it’s trained?

Sam: Wait. Another monkey? So what happened to the first one?

Monkey Xpress: Well, sir, it exploded?

Sam: What?!

Monkey Xpress: Exploded, sir? I see on your bill that you ordered the deluxe shipping?

Sam: Yes, I wanted my monkey to arrive in style. It’s supposed to be a birthday present to myself.

Monkey Xpress: Well, sir, apparently there was a defect in the training of this latest batch of helper monkeys? When shaken or introduced to sudden changes in air pressure, they were trained to explode? One of or other clients didn’t order deluxe shipping, and her monkey was allowed to roam free in the cargo hold? Your monkey was in it’s pressurized container, but when the free monkey exploded shortly after take-off, the other monkeys’ containers were damaged and they all exploded?

Sam: You were selling me a monkey-bomb?

Monkey Xpress: Of course not, sir? This was a defect in their training that we hope to resolve with the next batch?

Sam: So the replacement monkey you are sending me might explode. I’m not sure if I should be horrified or intrigued.

Monkey Xpress: Well sir, we hope to have the problem fixed?

Sam: Alright. When can I expect my replacement monkey?

Monkey Xpress: Our training program ends on November 15th? We’ll ship your monkey on the 16th after it receives its diploma?

Sam: Ok, so by middle of November I’ll have a helper monkey that might explode if I shake it. I’m not happy about having to wait for my monkey-bomb. I’d like you to throw in a month’s supply of bananas for free.

Monkey Xpress: I’m authorized to do that, sir? I apologize for the inconvenience and hope you use Monkey Xpress again in the future?

Sam: We’ll see how this monkey turns out. Bye.

Monkey Xpress: Good-bye, sir?

I’ve been reading The Somnambulist by Jonathan Barnes and I’m about half way through it. It’s a good story so far; the city is being threatened by a mysterious plot that only a part time investigator and stage magician can untagle. It’s a little bit like Sherlock Holmes meets Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell. But it’s more than that. Barnes’ novel is full of deformed women in a specialty whore houses and corrupt government officials getting political advise from Mediums.

But what’s so remarkable about the novel thus far is the way the city is described. You can see the city streets twisting out in front of you, but you can also smell the noxious waves of human waste in the street and despair surrounding dockside opium dens.

The novel is written in such a way that I occasionally forget I’m not reading an Alan Moore script. It’s odd.