mary sues can so be therapeutic

9:31 p.m. - 2002-02-26

I woke up yesterday morning with a terrible urge to read Rousseau, heaven knows why. I couldn’t, anyway, him being French and the like. So I snatched up the first non-French book I encountered, which was Slaughterhouse-Five. I finished it on the bus ride home, and as soon as I found myself at the house again, I wanted Rousseau. The Lent concept became mildly irritating for a little while. So I read Newsweek instead, which didn’t make me feel any better about Lent or, for that matter, Catholicism in general. But it did take my mind off Rousseau. Huzzah.

The littlest Gorgon finally made it into the double digits today, Lisha made it to adulthood, Lird makes it to driverhood tomorrow, and I am officially broke. Lird and Lisha aren’t at fault in the least, but its beyond me why the Gorgons’ birthdays had to be eleven days apart. As soon as these one acts are over, I’m looking for a job again...

If life’s some awful bore and living’s just a chore that you do since death’s not much fun, I’ve just the antidote, and there I mustn’t gloat...

And on a pointless note, I have several songs (and Harold Zidler) crammed into my head, some of them annoying, all of them furiously fighting for dominance.

In the year 2525...a little old lady from Pasadena...was given the world with every chance to excel.

I used to be a little boy…I smoke two joints before I smoke two joints and...Macavity’s not there!

And that is why the Lord created Men.

Some days I hate everything, everyone and everything.

Hey kid, shake a leg...

Outside it may be raining, but in here its entertaining!

It is not. It most emphatically is not. Out, all of you.

Time to go eat cake with the family and add Happy Birthday to the inventory.

Adieu.

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