Well, applying primer. I suspect I’ll brush the corners first. Roller work. Roller work is fun maths. Fluids, various porosities, and even coloration. I rather enjoy the opportunity to apply matter to other matter through a relatively efficient use of hand tools. Power tools drown out the music. You gotta listen to your tools. Paint sounds like fuckin’. Sorta, sometimes. It will this time, anyway. I ain’t started yet, but he’s takin’ off and it’s ready to go. Plus, he just paid me a nice chunk of cash. Rent fund, that.
A dollar a day buys 3 beers. That’s subsistence rates. Look, just because I live on subsistence rates don’t mean that’s what I’m worth. I’m ready to put any actual earnings toward property. Nah, holmes, let’s all work together on it. What else are you doing? Spending time on the phone? I hate telephones. I can read what you said in a tenth of the time it takes you to say it, and you don’t quite (or maybe you do) understand how socially awkward I am and how I’ve isolated my mind. I haven’t isolated it from communication, but I have shifted that communication rather fundamentally. Honestly, I think it makes me more likely to be able to go fishing with you. We’ll see.
Dude, he’s my other tree guy. He’s a logger. He’s got trucks, and a sawmill. I told him I like working with heavy equipment because I like working with heavy equipment. He laughed. I said I would bike competitively if the opportunity arose. I should hit them all simultaneously, strong-man, triathalons, bike races, non-strike combatives.
In a dance battle, they pulled out knives and swords. As they whirled around in a flailing barrage of misplaced aggression, he slyly trimmed his beard on the finely ground tips of their blades. It’s much funnier in the slow-motion, contorted shaving faces version, but whatever. You can’t tweet HD, can you? I guess you can compress the links, or just use vevo in the first place. I don’t even want to look at the news. I said, this morning, “I feel dumb for voting. That’s what the machine does, it makes you feel dumb for even trying to participate in the one meaningless way that you’re ‘allowed’ to participate.” It’s just farting in the wind. All anyone ever does is repeat back at me some phrase they heard on TV. That’s pretty much the end of the conversation. I give. You win. See ya.
Radio porn. Dirty as fuck. I love it.
Over ten thousand people have signed up for trivia this weekend. Crazy caffeine heads. Buncha drunks.
She texted me. I’m nearly ready to hear voices again. I responded. She made me think of pancakes.
Why is twitter over capacity?