Must remind myself that the world does not revolve around me. I came across a cryptic entry on the internet that decried the act of 'beating around the bush' in other people's journals. Being a tool, I immediately checked my archives and came up with nothing. Repeat, "the world does not revolve around me".
Secondly, I would move that there be a standard naming convention for states. There are 26 letters in our alphabet, there are 50 states, therefore the states should be named in accordance with the alphabet. Of course grandfathering various names would be very important. By the time there are 52 states, there will be two states for each letter of the alphabet.
Thirdly, each state shall found a town named Springfield. It's frightfully important in my head that each subcomponent of the republic host a township named Springfield. The mere fact that Pennsylvania has nine Springfields, Wisconsin has four Springfields and New Jersey has two Springfields does not pick up the slack for the other sixteen states which lack a Springfield.
Finally there would be term limits. I would retain the throne as omnipotent ruler but all other offices would be occupied for one term. There would be a clause for a second term as long as the term is non-consecutive.
Sure. Why not? I reckon I've made my peace.
Well the night becomes complicated because as soon as she gets in the door she has to use the bathroom and won't fucking come out. I sat for hours against the wall in the foyer waiting for her to finish. Headlights played through the windows which meant my parents were home. Curiousity made me peek outside and I saw that Kinja's red sports car was blocking the driveway and my parents had to drive around the block in their huge, black SUV. Eventually Kinja came out after I banged on the door for minutes on end. Funny thing, we never got around to moving her car.
We walked down the steet and the neighborhood started becoming more and more like Colorado. Near the border between the states we reached her apartment. She lived upstairs from a nearby coin dealer, next door to the former Blockbuster cum credit union. The inside of the store was all wood panelling circa 1970's basements and hidden in the wall like Batman was the elevator to her pad. Kinja wouldn't show me her place so I went outside to pace and wait. She yelled down a few things to me from the window that made no sense and eventually joined me.
Unlike waking life, a block later we passed Toons. Toons being the local, alternative video store. Much to my horror Toons had been converted into some frou-frou restaurant. The windows were unobscured by music and movie posters, small tables covered in pastel tablecloths filled the room. We walked across the street and found that it was being run by these frat guys. I asked where Toons moved to, using my best Butthead voice, and one started jabbering at me much too quickly that I just nodded and left.
We were near my apartment and that's when I noticed something frightening about Kinja. She looked at me and smiled, between her right incisor and its neighbor tooth that resides canine-wards was a bullet hole. The hole was jagged but she didn't seem to notice and I was afraid if I mentioned anything that she would notice and the pain would hit her like a ton of bricks. Outside the noisy frathouse of the waking world were some dancing girls who were laughing at the plight of a gray and white chicken. The poor bird was frantic, laying on its side and kicking its feet in the air. When it got up, it would lunge at everyone then drunkenly stagger around on the grass. I got scratched up but couldn't feel any malice towards the beast. Things became more frantic and I could see this pleading look in the chicken's eye so I reached down, grabbed her neck with both hands and tugged to no avail. Next I grabbed the spine near the base of the chicken's neck and the top of the ribcage, jerked, felt the vertebra separate and the chicken peacefully sat down, laid its head across my legs like a dog and quietly passed away.
That's when I saw another chicken coming towards me.
I woke up with Norman Greenbaum's Spirit in the Sky running through my head. That infection was cleared up immediately once I started the computer and played it on winamp.
Also I have one program which runs under Windows that I don't want to lose. Starry Night Backyard. Thing is that it uses Quicktime and that makes it doubly irritating since Quicktime doesn't exist for linux/BSD (AFAIK). Plus there are the voluminous email archives from the past five years which I feel a need to save for the sake of posterity.
The only game I really play is Nethack and that's already available for the OSS folks.
Currently I have 646 megabytes of mp3s on my computer's tiny 6 gig drive. After putting most of my important documents on a memory stick I barely have enough to fit 3/4 of my mp3s. This is easily fixed by getting another memory stick.
Why FreeBSD? Supposedly it supports the winmodem used by my laptop. Winmodem support is hard to find for OSS operating systems. Why have a computer if one can not get online?
Now it's time to change my clothes, start laundry and start sweeping the back patio.
