2/25/98
-- Decadence and Gluttony, I have met thee. Today I spent over $20
on comic books, and bought nine cheeseburgers. This is what I do
with the money I get from my mommy. 'Course, those nine cheeseburgers
are only 29 cents a piece, and not that big, but when you eat seven of
em' in a row, and you're no longer the man, er, stomach that you used to
be, it hurts. But in a good way. The comic books, well, you
can't expect me to got without my comics. I had to drive all the
way out to Melrose to pick up the new Youngblood, but hey -- they're comic
books. I need to enjoy em' while I'm still young.
Speaking o' comics, my roommate Ban today said a disturbing thing when he saw my joy-filled eyes and my bag o'comics -- "Do you actually read them?" This goes along with what Ray said about how when he used to collect SPAWN; he didn't read it (he didn't even know Al Simmons was black), he just looked at the pretty art. After buying SPAWN for a year, though, I can say that the art is the only thing going for it anymore. So I quit buying it, effective last month. Yeah, gimmee a comic with great writing and bad art over one with great art and bad writing any day. The new issue of WIZARD had a list of college that offer courses on comic books -- Mount Holyoke had the best one -- and it's a women's school! USC has one; too bad these stupid UC Regent jokers don't offer one. They wanna make us take stupid things, like history and astronomy. Phooey on them. Oh damn! Honey alert. FINE-ASS GIRL walked in. She sat down a row ahead of me, with her back turned, but if I straighten up in my chair, I can see the back of the top of her head. Oh well, at least I'm demonstrating good posture. Heh, today I got to show off my rough-rough history project splash page; I had everyone oohing and ahhing over my use of frames and neat graphics. Adobe, I love you. Now if only I could use Adobe applications to get some... Today's the first day I didn't eat any Ramen; this is ironic, because it comes one day after I went off to Costco and bought 120 packs of it. Five boxes o' 24. MARUCHAN MAN! I sold one box to Ban, but still got four left. So much sodium in there. Thank god I'm not a slug. Oh wait, actually I am. Stupid Scott is coming back on Friday night. Gotta give him the Redneck-mobile back. Oh well, at least he got a job -- way to go Scott! He's gonna work in Fernandina Beach, or something like that, 45 minutes north of Jacksonville. I think he should live at home for a spell so he can go through the shit I just went through again, but whatever. You're a dumbass, Scott. Damn, FINE-ASS GIRL left. Let's see, I got enough money left over fo' my movie with, uh, Maya. Now I gotta figure out what to see. Yesterday I wuz supposed to go see Good Will Hunting with some of my old, uh, ILL underlings, but I had to ditch to work on my stupid history homepage. I actually went down there when they were supposed to meet, but on one was there. Stoopid people. Not really, I'm the stoopid people. I don't rant on other people very often because I take too much pain out of ranting on myself. Ban ties up the phone lines too much with his stupid computer. I hate people who get on line, do nothing productive for hours, and keep the phones busy while other people miss important phone calls. Don't you? Bastards. Someone ought to tie them up. Hey, I hope I didn't miss a call from Borders. Hmm, I'll go down there myself in person tomorrow. I need a pager. |
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