I've given up on finishing the "Happiness is a Warm Gun" lyrics...
Hot damn! It's already May 20th... as I rest my humble arse at Schmeon's, jobless & forgotten, I realize that I must update this consarn diary - which should be retitled "The Quest for a Degree & the Aftermath Thereof." Or... "The Shady Aftermath." Or... "Colleen got suckered into buying a subscription for Interview magazine today by one of those kids who pound the pavement from South Dakota, trying to win some sort of trip by selling magazines - she spent $54, that unemployed retard. Let's flog her after we read this entry."
While I was on my way over to Schmeon's, I spotted a wee passle of dudes (passle? no?) standing on the side of the road & what I thought was a big refridgerator box poppling along across the street, carried by the relentless wind! Arrrrr! Yee wind - you are a cruel and cold mistress! Anyway, the box wasn't being carried by the wind - some fool had arm holes cut out & was running, blindly through the road (Lomas, for all of you who know Burque - a pretty busy street). He made it and his friends took off the box & were slapping him on the back.
I didn't really know what to do with that.
2003-05-20 | 9:15 p.m.
