2005-02-23 - 10:53 p.m.

Is this how it was supposed to all shake down? Me working in a Marina until my hands were bruised and bloodied with cuts and sores? Was this supposed to be it? A last chance at a brass ring when my fingers are too fat to even wear a ring?

My voice has been pretty shot for the last 5 days. Partly because I have been / and am sick. But mostly because I have been yelling and bellowing so loud that it's making my nose bleed. Which is odd, you know, since I think they look at me as "quiet" at work. Yes. Hilarious. I know. Give them time. They'll learn their lesson.

You know, it's not that I hate people for not seeing the world with my eyes, it's that their stupidity just manages to cloud my days from enjoying the finer things in life like the Make-Your-Own-Salad Bar at the grocery store. You know how you wonder how we got along before cell phones and internet? I wonder the same thing about the grocery store salad bar. God I fucking love it. Whoever's idea it was at some long ago Invention Convention should be rewarded with their weight in doubloons. Or some such long ago currency.

I can't stand this. This little corner of the inTRAnet is where I should be allowed to say whatever the fig fuck that I want. But I've invited so many flies into my brain's evil parlor that now I can never truly say what I want. But who wants a locked private site? I mean, other than www.thomaspynchon.com? Well, I suppose I can share this little earth-shattering bomb - it hurts to inhale through my nose. I"m convinced that I've been in such close contact with so many different types of radioactive chemicals at work that my body is slowly mutating until I resemble less a human and more a vicuna with a sinus infection.
"Hey, don't drag me into this!"

And it's not just one thing - I'm off the nose thing, I'm talking about something different. Aren't you with me? Aren't you all following? Of course you're not. I barely am. But things are definitely not supposed to be like this. Things are supposed to be different. On a million levels. We should be somewhere else. At a different time and place. All these people and things seem to be coming back to me in rapid succession only for me to remember less of it the more it comes back to me. And that which has always remained constant is slowly corroding. I can't do everything. And I hate myself for that. So if any of you feel like joining this ride, sorry - car's full.

Why is America so stupid? Why won't you read Runaways? Why won't you watch Arrested Development? Why did you kill Phil Hartman? When did stupid become the new smart?

I don't even want to dance the last song. It's always "Stairway to Heaven" and the lights start to click before it's even over.

Sorry for this quick interuption. I've got a boat show to help set-up in the morning so I guess my head isn't where it's supposed to be. Nothing is where it's supposed to be.

It's been real,

Zeus

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