Posted 11:17 AM by Alfred

Banged out another couple pages of the master thesis last nite. So far these guys don’t seem to want to get out of their car. They’re just cruising around. Ummm, they drove by a party and like stopped off at the dank spot and ate hamburgers. That’s about it. but the interesting stuff, at least to me, isn’t what they’re actually doing, which is basically jack crap, but what the main guy is thinking, all his little mental analogies and like random observations on retarded shit.

I still have no fucking idea where it’s going, and for some reason this comforts me.

So it’s frikken Halloween. Big fukn deal. Kid’s holiday. Well, at least that’s my take, I mean, shit, I don’t know, I guess it’s fun dressing up, but I rarely do. The tv shows, especially the sitcoms, make it seem like everybody and his fukn brother are like putting on a costume contest and bobbing for apples and playing wicked witch of the west meets Dorothy Dandridge’s crippled old Aunt Esther.

I don’t know where the fuck I’m going with that one. Enjoy your Halloween, don’t let me shit on your parade. I gripe and moan about the state of the whatever, but I’ll prolly be down in Waiks tonite checking out the freaks, it’s all in good fun. I don’t mean about 65% of what I say, deal with it Texas. Yeah you.

I wanna fly to cali, rent a car, get a big bottle of water and a big mac, and just drive the fuck all the way across the country, stopping only at the sleaziest grimiest looking bars and walking in and having one Beam and Coke (Beam & Jolt?) ok maybe 2, maybe 3, ok fuck it, 4, one last pup for the road, and then hop back on the ol whatever the fuck, road, yeah that’s the tick, and like only pull over at like motel 6 or super 8 when like it gets really dark and there’s a pretty gangsta yet safe for my suburban suitabilities drinking establishment and proceed to imbibe and then do it all again the next morning until I’m in like North Carolina or some shit like that and then dip my feet in the atlantic ocean for like 5 minutes and then go find some east coast food, like, fuck, I don’t know, chick fil-et or some shit like that.

You miss driving long distances after a while. Hardcore road trip style. Island living is conducive to max driving of a couple hours and then you’re back where you started, literally or figuratively dependent on which way you flakked it at Albuquerque. And yes it’s like that. or maybe not. I just write this shit.

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