1. Tuesday, May 17, 2005

    i know exactly how this time off is going to go. 

    im not going to send out any resumes until its far too late, im not going to work on anything creative until i have no time to, im not going to clean my ridiculously dirty apartment, im not going to work out, im not going to catch up on all the crap my thousand gig tivo keeps suggesting that my black ass watch, im not going to read the bible and write about it in a new secret bible blog,

    im not going to go to the movies every day and write about it in a new blog called moviesprettymuchsuck.com, im not going to meet a new girl every day and kiss three a week, im not going to do any new photo essays, im not going to hang out with tsar as they tour around the west, im not going to write something long and interesting for the la weekly, im not going to hitchhike across the country while i sublease my bachelor pads

    im not going to organize my computer, my mp3s, my photos, or this website

    im not going to cover e3, im not going to intern at the LA Times and get a gig there blogging now that theyve begun to make their online arm better, im not going to write all the cool kids who i love on buzznet, im not going to network throughout the blogosphere so that i can quit hoverring around 2k hits and quadruple that shit like so many others have already done,

    and for damn sure im not going to get high every day and write the novel thats in me

    im not going to hang out at dodger stadium and sell $2 bags of peanuts for $5

    im not going to paint my bedroom, my bathroom, my laundry room, or my tub like ive always promised

    im not going to fix the broken window pane behind my tv, im not going to sell 90 per cent of the shit in my house on ebay which is definately shit, im not going to donate anything to the poor even though i now know how sorta scary it is not to know where your next paycheck is coming from

    im not going to jog around my neighborhood every afternoon at noon and lose this buddah belly when nobody is out except for the mailman and the dogs and the old ladies and their umbrellas

    im not gonna get my bike fixed, or go to the doctor before my medical insurance expires at the end of the month, or take my dentist up on his generous offer, or take anyone up on their generous offers

    im not going to watch every baseball game that comes over the satelite, im not going to call my buddy stu from the stern show, im not going to properly thank all my friends from my old department for coming to my farewell party at welch’s, and lord knows im not going to send a card to matt and em for throwing the damn thing which was lovely and wonderful

    im not going to write about how the baking powder and water paste solution really did knock down the itching and bloating of my crazy bee sting, im not going to find osama, and im certainly not going to apologize or retract the information that ive received that our gitmo interrogators are doing far more fucked up shit than flushing copies of religious texts down toilets in order to psychologically brutalize illegally incarcerated human beings who at this point couldnt give a shit what you jammed down the head.

    im not going to hang out with my xgirlfriend as she prepares to leave town for the peace corps, im not going to hang out with my other xgirlfriend as she does whatever it is that she does two bus lines away from me, im not going to interview the 92 year old lady who lives in a shoe who yesterday told me that if she was younger id be in trouble and then she cackled and hung up

    im not going to buy a guitar and learn how to play some chords other than a, c and that other one i know

    im not going to go to venice beach and sit on a towel and sell How To Blog to the tourists, im not going to join the mexican ice cup union and scrape ice into cups and squirt flavor on it for the kids, im not going to try out for the dodgers, im not going to convince michael jackson that he needs to hire him to say WTF every time he shuts the door behind him and spends the night with a little boy

    im not going to grow a beard until i find work, im not going to think about grad schools, im not going to tell google that i love them but they HAVE to get a delete button on their gmail shit or im… fuck i dont know but it will involve a mean email.

    im not going to be a ticket taker at manns chinese, im not going to dress up as bart simpson and pose next to tourists for tips, im not going to audtion to be a dj at my local strip club which has always been my secret ambition because candy is on the the side stage candy everyone

    im not going to blog more, im not going to spell check more, im not going to fix my links, im not going to do shit other than waste time get fat get older and ruin this great opportunity i have in front of me, im going to sit in one of my many mansions and do the same old bullshit that ive done for the last four years: diddley squat in lowercase signifying nothing.

    scienceblog + terra + gmask got it wrong, the simpsons were great on sunday