1. Wednesday, April 21, 2004

    call me grumbly mcgrumbly today. 

    got chewed out for killing a perp this morning. i was all, this is what we do. they were all this isnt what you do. youre supposed to fly the helicopter and tell us where the dude is. i was all sometimes im the only guy there and its a clear shot. and they were all dont do it. whatever you do, let the other agents do it.

    so steer chopper one around is what i will do and i will collect my paycheck and i will keep my thumb off the “laser” and i will look at the pacific and the mountains and the swimming pools and think of what i will do for a living in the next few years. cuz it aint being undercover for much longer.

    i drove to work today in the cuban girls car. i almost want to take the bus tomorrow because i only have a week left to read the rest of the basketball diaries and i have to read it in order to teach it.

    wednesdays are rough days for me because i get to fly around in the morning but then im supposed to have “office hours” where other members of the agency get to ask questions of me and go over plans for the next few weeks and next few months.

    its good for everyone to be verbally in contact with each other, and it has cut down on errors and miscommunications but its a royal pain in the ass because theres no set schedule and most of the people, except for danielle, love to come down either right when i want to take lunch or right when im ready to go home. thats so not cool. and then theres the people who dont come down at all. and of course those are the ones who make the most mistakes.

    i just want to drive around the country. how hard is that. i just want to write and take pictures. i could do that anonymously. i wonder if i could get a book deal based solely on this friggin blog. would people buy a book of a guy traveling around the country writing about america and taking pictures? probably not. plus i got nothing to say. plus im not some blonde bellyshirt wearing chickie and im not someone whos got dirt on michael jackson and im not someone who has dirt on the president of the united states of america.

    i dont want to have dirt on anyone. i want to write a book about america and tell people that america is ok. i want the world to know that most of america doesnt get shown on tv. that most of america are people living in cul de sacs or drive fords.

    that most of america, probably, couldnt give a rats ass about janet jacksons nipple. or about weapons of mass destruction, or even about howard stern for that matter. its my belief that most of america doesnt want anyone telling them how they should feel about things, or what they should be protected from.

    but i dont know

    which is why i want to meet them.

    and then take their picture.

    and if theres young women out there interested in kissing a real life b-list blogger, well i suppose with the right amount of wining and dining that might be arranged as well.

    as long as afterwards they continue to say nice things about me.

    ive had g-mail now for a week and i still love it.

    hobo chic took a picture with ferris bueller + twenty-somthing + madmathias