Futile Horn

01.14.2004 - 5:18 am (I think Imma name a kid Seth)

It felt like a meeting of destiny. I marched into the bathroom with a detached sense of martial duty. He must have sensed it coming too, because the little bastard was scurrying off into hiding even before I turned the lights on. I looked behind the hamper, but I couldn’t find him, so I sprayed where I thought he should have been just for good measure. But the poor sumbitch must’ve had a death wish, cus he wouldn’t stop chattering. I moved the hamper again and caught him with a devastatingly full and accurate shot. Dead in seconds. No sense of triumph, no sense of remorse, just a feeling of Muss es sein? Ja, es muss sein! (For some reason the necessity of being sounds so much more sinister in German.)

Speaking of which, I’ve feeling around a new musical project (which so far appears to be a side project to the current project which is not getting done as fast it should be). I am going to do a mini album of six songs, all about the sci-fi classic, Starship Troopers. Yes, the one where they kill bugs in outer space. You know what, I am not going to talk about this, but talking about it only saps up whatever creative energy there is. I will reserve my comments to complaints about how things are going at a later date.

I tried to study some Latin today, but mostly what I ended up doing was watching four hours of the pharaohs on the History Channel. This was a terrible mistake, because not only did I lose all that time, ancient Egypt no longer seems as incurably boring as it did to me before. What if I get it into my head to study hieroglyphs? What a life waster that would be.

My hot water was restored today. It had been out since Saturday. Gah, life wasn’t pretty. Unfortunately it didn’t come back on until late yesterday and I went to sleep instead of taking a shower, so I still stink. However now the heat is off, and we are freezing ass under what’s sticking around of that Canadian air mass. Christ, what isn’t Canada to blame for? Anyway, if it is too cold in here for my fingers to play guitar, it is too cold to be walking around with exposed wet nipples.

I think I succeeded in repairing my modem today. It had broken again. I tried to fix it by repairing it the way I did last time. Trying to install a PCMCIA modem, failing, and restoring the old modem. I attempted to eliminate the PCMCIA phase of the strategy but it didn’t work. I’ve no idea why.

I’m so hungry I could eat a pork chop.

Born to play the funky céilí,
Futile Horn