2004-10-07
dead lazlo's place
yesterday on the metro i saw a boy and girl making out. I hate that it's gross. So I stopped looking. Then, of cource, I looked again and I got caught. Then I started laughing and didn't look back again.
Today on the metro I saw nothing [though there was a crazy man who was talking to all the ladies and offering them his seat. He talked to me and he wasn't even drunk. He had on a denim vest with a t-shirt underneath that I'm pretty sure had a pentagram on it. His jeans were real tight [to show off the "package"]and he had a 'Harley' belt buckle on that looked home-made if home-made belt buckles are possible. He was a sort of short guy with big gleaming blue eyes and shoulder-length red hair. And sticking out of the front pocket of his vest was the handle of a big black hairbrush. Heehee.
Anyways, aside from that guy] I was too tired to see anything. I stayed up 'til 3am preparing my notes for my VERY FIRST CLASSROOM LECTURE this morning, and then got up at 7:30, after hitting zoons for an hour, to finish up the PowerPoint Presentation I made to go along with it. I did PowerPoint because my lecture was about Hindu god posters and the best part about the topic is the cool pictures. Not to mention that fucking around with PowerPoint and downloading pictures is a great way to procrastinate.
The lecture went very well, I think, though it's somewhat hazy. People were asking questions and I talked for 45 minutes and a student even came up to me in the library after class and told me he enjoyed the presentation. I said, 'I'm not going to fuck you.'
God, I love the word 'fuck'.
Speaking of fuck -- my sister is in labor with her first child at this very moment. I'm going to phone my mom, eat some chocolate, go to bed and wait for the phone to ring. It's kind of funny how the first thing people say when announcing the birth of a child is what gender it is. Why? I guess that's the big mystery over the course of 9 months. To me it seems kind of like pronouncing a premature death sentence. But "that's the post-modernist in me" and a rum-pum-pum-pum, EVerybodynow! Just kidding. Post-modernism is so passay. So sashay, rumpapum. I don't mean death sentence, I mean, you know, let's just start the training instantly. Get out the pink clothes. Maybe I'm overdoing this. After all, we are all boys or girls, trained to be so, but boys and girls nonetheless. If I ever have a kid, though, you can bet your cunt -- hahajustkiddingithoughtitsoihadtosayit -- you can bet your sweet bootay that I will phone you up and say, "It's a male!"
Anyways, needless to say, ah am feeling, in a word, a little loopy.
Aooga! Aooga! You're special.
pansycline at 4:03 p.m.