THis entry may be long. And rambling. Or not. I haven't determined that yet.
It doesn't have a point, or maybe it does - all stories do, so I'm told ...of course, all writing is also propoganda, so there ya go - what (hwat) was I talking about?
The title of this entry comes from Fight Club, which I finished yesterday. I can't seem to read anything other than Chuck Palahniuk lately. I've tried, though. I read most of Red Sky at Morning before devouring FC, but after a point, RS @M simply became ...I don't know. Monotonous. And the dude, while his heart is in the right place, is so obviously a Taker. Currently I'm punishing myself by trying to get through Human Nature by some jackass. I wanted to get a different perspective (what if everything I believe is WRONG? - a question that more people need to ask themselves) but sadly, I can't do it. There's simply too many things that make me go ARRRGH!
In nonbook news, I think I'm addicted to the internet. I keep coming back online, even though there's nothing here. At least this time I'm blogging, for whatever that's worth, but still. I think that it's because I can't go online while at work that I feel the pressure to get as much onilne (or online, if you prefer) time in as possible at home. Not good.
Checked out Radiohead's Hail to the Thief from the library the other day. I've listened to most of it while doing dishes, which means that I have yet to actually sit down and listen to it. The paft that has sunk in though has been enjoyable, so there ya go.
It's old news by now, but a few days back Jupe was in Vegas. We went down and met her (and The Boy - but not The Boy) and had about as much fun as one can have sitting in an airport. There is photographic evidence of our meeting, but Steph's the one with control of the camera, so pester her for them to be uploaded.
I need (want) to add a list of blogs back. Must rememember to check out BlogRolling sometime soone.
Also need to send a PM to the following people: Bally. Jamie Marie.
Have you seen that they changed the nickle? The back of the 2004 year nickles now have two hands shaking, and two tiny axes crossed over them. It (I guess) represents the Louisiana Purchase. Which, according to the nickle took place in 1803. So...this is the 201st year anniversary. Wheird.
Hee. Cat hair. Also - "With this cat, I thee wed."
Must write abook. And when I do, must make sure that I am referred to as "the P@". It's what everyone calls me. Except for the people who add a "t" to the end. Once again - the "@" symbol means "at". Thus, P@ is equivalant to Pat. P@t would mean Patt. Not the same. But, yeah, it's what they call me places. Online. And such.
Also neat- I've rediscovered the joy of having a penpal. Amy and I have been exchanging letters for about a month (more??) now, and it's really quite pleasant to get a letter in the mail, in addition to communicating online. Maybe more people should write to me. Or maybe I should write to more people. Hmmm. *rubs beard in thoughtful manner*
The. What?
AOL had a story (such as it were) on anarchists interferring with the Republican National Convention. Huh. Nothing really of interest in the article, but there was a shoot-off article that talked about how they're offering discounts to dinners and whatnot to people...if they protest non-violently. "Here, have a dinner at Applebee's, just don't break anything." [rolleyes]
(Although, honestly, a dinner at Applebee's sounds pretty good right now.)
It's Friday?? When did that happen?
Hmm. Need to work on the conclusion aspect. Of course, nothing tops "And the earth grew weary of all this nonsense, and hurled itself into the sun."
2 comments:
This is one of the best entries I have ever read. It mentions me so many times!! Also, please run those pictures by me so that I can look at them all and say: "Nope. Horrible. Horrible. Horrible. No way." and then tell you to delete them all.
But, yeah! Man. I don't know. Everything you know is wrong. Just forget the words and sing along. Why do I still know most of the words to that song? I've tried to forget.
I too, am an internet addict. (Dull chorus: "Hi, Amy.") I realized this after getting back from my internet-less exploits, and, only having The Boy for a few days more, I felt a wrenching conflict in my soul. I was all: "But ... I need to check my email! And Blurty! And my PMs!!" ...Incidentally, I've been getting so few PMs lately. Today I got, like, 10, and I almost had a panic attack because that was so unexpected.
Why am I talking so much?
Yes! I'm on the "to be PMed by P@" list! I've now made it. It's the high life for me - Coke, fashionably late entrances at parties, the papparazzi following me and me still not being able to spell that word.
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