miscellaneous pathology: July 2003 Archives

scalp burning sharp breath ragged gasping body trembling thrumming oh god the thing, the thing wouldn't fucking die. it wouldn't die. cat had it in the kitchen, i cheered him on, go kitty go, get 'im kitty get 'im but no. cat got him down by my couch and just. sat. there. frantic panic looking for a box i won't mind never feeling like touching again. a big one. grabbed some crap software box and told worthless kitty to move over. started pounding on the creature. i am not exaggerating i hit it maybe twenty times HARD and he's fluttering faster faster and i hit him and i hit him and he's STILL FUCKING FLUTTERING so i just go apeshit on him i mean BANGBANGBANG x maybe ten or maybe twenty, and finally it's over. worthless kitty comes to poke at the corpse, i tell worthless kitty to move over so i can take a picture. see worthless kitty's worthless furry feet there in the picture? yeah, he didn't move.

oh we're so getting generic catfood next time.

and i still have to deal with the ... the corpse. the gooey, semi-dismembered ... oh look! just a wing (the rest seems to have disappeared). (ok, that makes up for it. kitty gets the good stuff. and a saucer of milk too.)

and in other news, apparently a person can bang a box on the floor really loud a bunch of times while vocally panicking, with all the doors wide open, and not wake up mr. whatsisname. good to know, good to know.

and in still other news, my quest to deface various cds continues ...

these just don't translate well into two dimensions. trust me, in person, they ... well, they kind of rock.

i've decided to do something HIGHLY UNUSUAL, that is, stay up all damn night just 'cause Jett is doing that thon thing and ... ok, wait, this made more sense a minute ago.

so if you have a totally automatic digicam that insists upon handling everything including exposure and focus no matter what, and you want a blurry shot of a freeway sign, and you are going 75 miles per hour, and rather than seek the therapy you so desperately need at this point, you become determined to get the picture, well ... first of all, don't bother with the viewfinder, it's useless, just use the force. now timing? have to figure in the interval the autofocus will waste not focusing and factor in moving 110 feet per second, and you have a full half a second window if your aim is perfect. fun stuff.

ok, well slowly might be the wrong word. infact the verb tense in the title statement might indeed be the incorrect tense, all things considered. aside from that, or well, because of that, everything seems fine. certain aspects of denial (as long as we are speaking of truly delusional levels of the stuff) can be quite blissful, did you know that? well they can.

i believe i'll have a beer. maybe more. maybe many beersies. whatever it takes, i'm willing.

creature of the night.

so there i am in vons planning the speech. nice and irrational: that's the last time i do groceries i don't care how many hours you sit whining you're hungry while your company car with the current registration sits out there with the full tank of paid-for gas and ... and then my eyes settled on the little drink holder in the basket: starbucks. there's a starbucks here. and magically the attitude vanishes. as i approach the counter, the thought "i'm going to get wired" slices a wide bright swath of enlightenment through the dark grumbling & the hysterical speechplans. grande caramel frappuccino with an extra shot, oh yeah.

it's not even so bad that we're all home today so this means much pointed cleaning, punctuated with demonstrations: "see, this is where the fruitflies breed, they crawl down the little straws of the juiceboxes." how nice.