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| I think my favorite thing about this person who has been flaming me, is how many typos he has. I mean, one every four words. When I directed somebody to check them out, he asked me what dominon's was. I assume he meant Domino's pizza. Anyway, I talked to Xanga's technical department and got them to release a partial email address (the domain and the first 3 letters.) ...I'm really disappointed in you. I was actually thinking about giving you a call, because I felt bad. Well, that's closure I guess. And I don't necessarily mind you saying those kind of things after what happened, it's just that your methods are such chicken-shit... | | |
| I think that poetry is one of those things. THOSE things. I mean, things that people do just to draw attention to themselves. Unfortunately, SO much of it consists of people feeling sorry for themselves, or else talking about how phat they are. That's why I respect Galen on the poetry scene, and it's also why I don't write very much anymore. I think the only reason most people get out of bed in the morning is in the hope that somebody will realize how great of a person they are. Hell, I know that's me. Band T-shirts, DDR, underground music...it's all just a trick to get somebody to tell me how cool I am. How about you guys? | | |
| a little something I threw together in class, while I was supposed to be paying attention:
Kids in Plastic Bubbles
From my first taste, the feel
clutching the yellow plastic ball
walking, arms at my sides as comrads fell
ever watchful least I be next
A shuffling gait, the illusion of apathy
as I scanned the front for a moment of weakness
or incoming.
They don't play Dodgeball any more.
I guess kids are hurt more easily today
or maybe the war metaphors are too thick
I suppose it's the gateway to aggression
as are all competitve games.
Remember when our only thoughts were fun, and no mind was given to the broader social implications?
Tackle football, with no pads, in the front yard
...only watch out for the gravel driveway
Listen: you can't stop bad things from happening to your kids
BUT: if you make sure those bad things came while they were happy
maybe they'll learn how to cope with faults and failure
Instead of blaming their problems on me
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| HOLY SHIT DOMINOS ROCKS. Okay...with tips, milage, and wages, I made the equivilent of about $11.00/hour tonight. That's enough. But factor in that the people fucking rock, and the job is practically "Grand Theft Auto" with the music and crazy driving and "missions..." crap. One note: I hate college students! Maybe it's just the U of M students. But WITHOUT EXCEPTION they:
1. Ordered bad toppings (eg, cheese only. LIVE A LITTLE YOU DAMN PUSSIES!)
2. Made me wait outside their stupid buildings for unreasonably long periods of time (I call, and maybe they come down 10 minutes later)
3. Gave me tips under .50 (the low was 4 cents, the high was 46.)
This one winner couldn't get his pizza because he has the excellent spending habbit of using his debit card while the account is empty. He was SHOCKED when I wouldn't give him his pizza after his card came back declined. He confided his economic strategy to me in a parking lot outside Bursley Hall in the U of M north campus. There was something in there about how often he has to pay over charges. To resist slapping him, I mentioned that maybe he try calling Cottage Inn, since maybe they have lower standards. When I recounted this conversation back at the store, I was a HERO. | | |
| Yeah, I don't update anymore. That's the story. I'm in Chicago right now, with Galen and Steenie and Heather (though I haven't seen much of her in the past day.) There's been some Chinese food and Pizza, and a lot of mass transit. I feel like washing my hands a lot. There were also numerous misadventures on the trip up. HOPEFULLY the trip back will be uneventful. Later. | | |
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