oh, and:


"You're as dumb as a mule and twice as ugly.
If a strange man offers you a ride, I say take
it!" Okay, so you're not a Homer Simpson
quote, but you are said by Grampa Simpson.
You're a piece of advice said to Homer on his
first day of school. You're just pretty much
out there, and a lousy parent at that. But
you're old and senile anyway. Go back into your
coma.


Which Advice Quote said by Homer Simpson are You?
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just back from taking james to a luxuriously trendy lunch at ganache to celebrate his graduation this evening. sure hope he gets a job in the boro so he can make it back on a permanent basis!

my new favorite phrase: "wholly unconcerned." I think that many of my issues with people can be chalked up to how wholly unconcerned they are. an old inside joke phrase remembered today: "sturdy peasant stock." I hope that I don't look like I come from sturdy peasant stock, but I very well might.

raise the alarm. I'm out of adderall and my prescrip is a.w.o.l. time to ransack 4109.

I'm putting my budget into effect on monday, which means this weekend I have to blow some frivolous money. I'm passing through durham on saturday, which means a trip to southpoint is in order for that purpose. nordstrom, pottery barn, and banana republic are gonna love me. well, they'll at least like me. I can't blow that much.

on my way back from wv I finally gave the decemberists' castaways and cutouts a thorough listen. my opinion: on the surface they have an excellent, well developed sound ("cocoon" is one of the most beautiful songs I've ever heard), but lyrically I have to take some issue with them--actually, a lot. it sounds like colin meloy went by barnes & noble, picked up an sat study guide, and said, "hey! let's see how many of these vocab words I can work into a song. hell, how about every song!" come now, mr. meloy. did you really think that mentioning catacombs and petticoats would dupe hipsters into thinking that your songs actually mean anything? well...in light of the stellar reviews given to this record, I guess he did. I genuinely enjoy hearing the decemberists. I'm just a little so-so about listening to them.

I'm in bauman, naturally, and the girl next to me is totally looking up stuff about freemasons. that's some scurry shit.

I really ought to run back by the apartment. when I left carra was lying on the living room floor, and I was in too much of a hurry to ascertain why. hope it's not lumbago. lumbago'll getcha every time.

the mountain air has prompted me to spew forth still more random bushwah:

molly ringwald would have much more appeal if the media referred to her in thick german accents as "fraulein ringwald." actually, it'd be nice if the media referred to her at all.

I've been having many dreams lately involving bathtubs, for no reason that I can fathom. although I think that dream dictionaries are ridiculous and hokey, I had to look this up. apparently it signifies being preoccupied with a member of the opposite sex--or, for me I suppose, the same sex. I don't feel preoccupied. hmm.

as much as I dis bluefield, there's always been some unidentifiable thing about it that makes me happy. yesterday I realized what it is. the sun shines brighter here. I can't explain it. not only is the sun brighter, colors are more vivid. I'm sure it's all in my imagination, but college avenue seems a helluva lot more visually alive than brassfield road.

although speaking of dissing bluefield, can you believe that there exists not a single establishment in a town of 15,000 people where a person can go to fax a document? well, I felt like going to blacksburg for coffee anyway.

turning to page 653 of the stephen king collection four past midnight brings one into the novella "the sun dog." two references are made to john delevan's car, a ford. on 655, the car is referred to as a chevy. I'm getting sick and tired of inconsistencies in literature. don't even get me started on harry potter. much as I love 'em...holes. full of holes. if the prospect of getting an english degree didn't make me want to drink iodine, I'd become an editor.

on a final note, if gilbert godfrey and fran drescher ever had a child, it would have the most beautiful voice in the world. for some reason, it would just work that way.