Mush

I've been working hard for my money, so hard, honey honey.

I wanted to come home today and write a really good post. I wanted it to be funny, but not blatantly hilarious, and posses a certain wit and tact. It was gonna be about some random event, and then I would talk about how shocked I was, and how the shock morphed into disgust, which in turn became horror. Then I would write about the horror in a way that made it almost nostalgic so that I could look back on the shocking/unpleasant event and think "Hah, I remember when that funny thing happened." Rather than "Wow, I think that aged me a little bit and I may never be the same." Nostalgia is nice that way, it makes really inconvenient shitty things like a squirrel coming into your house through your chimney right before you're supposed to leave for school and then dropping squirrel terds everywhere because it was so scared of your flailing arms, into a comical life experience. So instead of writing the post I had intended to, I'll do one that is mediocre, and very stream-of-conciousnessy. So essentially this is a warning to inform you that what follows from here on will suck, but I know, and you know, that I just reverse psychologied you suckers and now you really want to read on.

I went to my friends BBQ on the weekend and established myself as the bbq sidekick. As one full half of a Super Team, I not so modestly kicked some ass. My bbq partner told everyone I was vegan and then I spent the entire night trying to explain that I wasn't. I'm not even a vegetarian and yet everyone was like "Oh, so you're bbq'ing and you don't even eat meat? Weird." After a while I just gave up, drunk people never want to see your point of view. They're so useless like that.

Then I went to Al's house after work and he had made me dinner. At first I was so pleasantly surprised, but then I worried that he was gonna drop a bomb of "Oops I lost your _________," or tell me that he wasn't really Allan the boy all this time but Allan the Crazy Magic Wizard and he had to leave for Barcantia, a land of magicallness. After a lot of prodding I realized that he had actually just done it to be nice. Thanks Al! We decided to walk around the city (because I made him) and I commented at some point that the couple in front of us looked so mismatched. "I would have never guessed that those two would be together," I said naively. Allan politely let me know that it was a hooker and a client. Oh. We got home and watched Mulholland Drive, or however you spell it, and can I just say What, The, Fuck. When it was almost done Al let out this long sigh of understanding and I whipped around my head in jealousy.

"Do you get it?!"

"Yeah, it's like a cycle."

"Well yeah, I get that but do you get the whole significance of every scene? Or how they all add up? Or why there's that burnt old lady behind the dumpster?"

"Well no, ok wait. I think it's about hollywood. No, I don't really get it."

"Ok good.

Then I commuted home from work today, with my brain freshly ravaged by the tribulations of work, and I couldn't absorb a thing. I couldn't appreciate the beautiful sunset, realize the hilarity of the trailer park motorcycle gang, feel embarrassed as I fell asleep on the guy beside me. I thought of lots of things, and then forgot them all so that it felt like I had thought of nothing. When I walked in my door I headed straight for my computer and some food; my life force. I got one hand on the task of feeding mouth, and then started to inject blogs intravenously into my blood stream.

Then I started typing, one letter after the other, an M, a U, an S, an H...