2002-04-08 - 10:55 p.m.

Waitaminute, waitaminute, waitaminute . . .Are You Telling Me that you would be in Church on a Sunday (in God's HOUSE?!) and then on Monday you were . . .*gasp* shoplifting?!?!?! How dreadful. Well, I suggest you steer clear of G. Willikers since we just installed a state-of-the-art security system. Ain't gonna be any Thomas Trains or Beanie Babies gettin' stuffed down no one's pants no mo. Ahhhhhh. . .work.

So I have to read Harriet E. Wilson's "Our Nig" tonight. I'm trying to think of something funny to say that doesn't make me sound racist and I can't. So I won't. Let me clarify, no racist be me, but all I can think of is a Victor Muzzey joke that only .17% of the population would even get. I'm not racist, but I'm about as PC as an iMac. (cha-ching royalties)

Anyway, I hate Chadwick. Him and his bible-banging wife can both play in traffic for all I care. I can't believe I'm in a position where I'm rooting for Sean & Elka, but oh well. I was a fan of the Boston years. I just wish they had picked Keefla instead of Chadwick, oh but then we would have MISSED OUT on the cosmic ballet that is the wedded bliss of Hollywick. God I hate them. You know who else I hate? Joyce Carol Oates. I don't feel like going in to it now, but Joyce, if you're out there, you know why . . .oh you know why.

Why must the people in my apartment building POUNCE on my laundry as soon as the dryer stops ticking?? Give me 2 SECONDS to take it out. I live ACROSS the hall from the damn laundry room, it won't sit there THAT long. . .Cause I just can't start a week until a borderline-elderly toothless old hag has meandered through my boxers.

I hate that Simpsons where Homer bowls a perfect game. It hurts me to watch it. Unlike the sugar episode, which makes me cry. . .with happiness.

I have to go read . . . you know . . . that book. Man, it looks like a real page turner . . . yup . . .can't wait. Anyway, maybe I'll play Buster Brothers as a Study Break first. Even though I haven't technically started studying yet. I'm cold.

It's been real,

Crazy Martha

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