i am either several miles under the city, flying high again like randy rhodes above this fair metropolis, or out on the sea like mariah carey in that one video.
all i know is im bummed that i cant really write you very much today, just know that i’m not like those other bloggers who will leave you hanging day after day week after week.
watched american idol last night, so happy i didn’t bum rush the kodak theatre. did that show peak too early or what? sucked. i hope they both lose.
reminded me of this time that i stole $5 from my moms purse as she was gardening so i could run back to the arcade to satisfy my Space Invaders habit.
back then Space Invaders was the shit. the only thing. we were marveled by it. in a trance because of it. we tried to calculate how much money it was making for the arcade and therefore how much we would have to pool together so as to purchase one and put it in our basement and charge the children.
after i gorged i felt terrible and i asked my mom if there was something i could do to help her garden.
whatever she said i didn’t do, i just felt bad. too bad to help. sick of space invaders, sick of being a kid, sick of the summer, sick of being me.
one thing i love about being this deep undercover is i am not me right now.
im super dooper agent 8121.
im a specialist. i deal with sound waves as weapons. first i hit them with the low tones. so low they cant hear them, only feel them. after a while it rings totally wrong with the inner ear and makes the sickly puke.
then right before we go in i blast the high tones. they cant stand it and they go for the exits and open the doors and hi, we’re right there waiting for them.
problem is these characters are spread out and they keep moving and our inside men aren’t communicating with us and its making us nervous. either they’re dead, or tied up or switched sides is what most people think. i just think they cant reach us. i always think positively.
and right now i positively have to pee.
i love you all.
agent la vista signing off.