Futile Horn

01.22.2005 - 11:27 am (the staleness returns)

Hey look my diary is back. I thought I’d lost it forever. That would have been like losing the sex tapes from all the other members of Motley Crue. Vince Neil has needs too!

If you are sort of person who thinks I should be embarrassed for knowing the names of more than one member of Motley Crue… well, I am.

So what fate befell me during my Diaryland diaspora? Nothing much. I quit my job and moved to Minneapolis to write a novel. So just like every diary I’ve ever read in the newyorker diaryring I belong to, I now no longer live in New York. Well, everyone has to leave New York sometime. I mean, I had to go: R.E.M. was singing that song on the radio, and if you go back you’ll notice that in my last few entries I had been extremely tempted to beat the shit – or pay people to beat the shit – out of children and lunatics in Washington Square Park. It was time.

At some point this diary (or perhaps more pointedly, I) was called “an enigma of human staleness.” I will do my best to live up to that billing. I’m also considering changing the diary template to add that phrase to the list of 10 out of which javascript randomly selects to put under the title (“Like the fish in Phaedo” or “Like Eleusis without the Pork” or something like that.)

Actually, I’m not even sure this entry will even post. I’ll try that now. It better. I am still getting Diaryland spam.

Born to play the funky céilí,
Futile Horn