Sep. 6th, 2002

jimmickwatersmith: (Default)
I got cable today. They made it seem like I'd be getting HBO and Cinemax and shit, but that wasn't included. So no T&A. But I get scrambled Playboy and Spice channels. It's funny because they play some jazz station from the west coast in lieu of fuck noises. The jazz is pretty good, so I have an excuse to watch scrambled porn now.

I have no idea what I did today. I got up early for the cable and stayed up. So I've been up since 10:30. I left my place once for cigarettes and ended up getting two CDs from Sound Garden. I got The Roots-Things Fall Apart and Bela Fleck-Perpetual Motion. The Bela CD is all classical shit like he did with Edgar Meyer at Bonnaroo. It's some really good stuff. And The Roots are always good.

My dad emailed me this joke: Two Arabs are in a locker room taking a shower after their racquetball game when one notices the other has a huge cork stuck in his butt.

"If you do not mind me saying," said the second, "that cork looks very uncomfortable. Why do you not take it out?"

"I cannot", lamented the first Arab. "It is permanently stuck in my butt."

"I do not understand," said the other.

The first Arab says, "I was walking along the beach and I tripped over an oil lamp. There was a puff of smoke, and then a huge old man in an American flag attire with a white beard and top hat came oozing out. He said, "I am Uncle Sam, the Genie. I can grant you one wish."

I said, "No shit."

I don't know why the ass he sent me this stupid joke. I should send a really really vile joke as a response. Something that would end in his disownership of me. Something involving dead babies. And blood and cunt.

Speaking of dead babies, I read a few short stories by Graham Greene. They mentioned "The Destructors" in D. Darko, so I decided to see what it's all about. This guy's got a pretty sick mind. The Destructors is about a gang of nihilistic grade schoolers who just destruct this old man's house. And that's all they do. Then there's this other story called 'The Overnight Bag' or something like that. It's about this guy who carries an overnight bag containing a dead baby. And that's all he does. It's some morbid stuff, yes, but it's the stuff that dreams are made of.

I rearranged my place last night. Right now it has optimal floor space. Right now it's a phat pad.

When you don't have class Monday or Friday like me, you enjoy school a lot more. But there are few like me.

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jimmickwatersmith

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