I spent a damn hour on that.

Blogger ate my post.

Goddammit, blogger.

Things with "C" in them

Breaking the rhythm

I can't not post this.


I'm really attracting a lot of attention to myself out here in the real world, with all the choking sounds I'm making trying not to laugh audibly.

Long post, short post, long post, short post

All in all I can't say I cared much for Dallas.

It could be because I was stuck in the middle of a three mile long parking lot.

Me and my stupid names for people.

I go to Dallas tomorrow.

I'm not sure how I feel about it, I'd like to go somewhere I've never been but I've been feeling dull this week.

For no apparent reason, there was a St. Patrick's Day party this past Friday, so I found a green shirt and attended.

It wasn't particularly wild, but I'm not a wild guy very much so I didn't mind.

Wrongtree was there and, unfortunately, got very drunk and started trying to...seduce me? There's a better word, but it escapes me presently.

Wrongtree is my name for that friend of mine who's become interested in me, even though technically I'm the one who is the wrong tree to bark up.


Am I not just so damn clever?

Besides, I like the way Wrongtree sounds.

I also like the surname Hartigan: how the word has to come from the throat, bounce back from the teeth and rebound outwards from the back of the tongue. It has the feel of a something ricocheting about when you say it, something nice and tough. The name is for a character from that comic book I've never read that is being adapted into that movie I want to see with all the stark black and white with the shocking occurances of yellow and red.

Gorgeous. When I drew (5, 6 years ago?), I drew like that, and everybody told me I needed to use more color, but they were Wrong.


Wrongtree, to my ears, has a voice like a child. It's not necessarily high pitched but her words have a pleading quality to them.

She starts off trying to tickle me.


That's not very dignified.

But then she (apparently) got too drunk to stand and so collapsed onto me, where I had to bear-hug her to keep her upright while she quasi-whined at me to dance with her, all the while glaring menacingly at everyone who gave me the thumbs-up sign.

Except for Inamorata, who, after gently explaining I wasn't interested in Wrongtree, I made doe eyes at like I always do.

She told me just to "Be nice to her," which was of course wonderful and sage advice, coming from her. If anyone else had said it, I'd have poured my damn drink on them.

She and I spoke a little, about nothing important, but I was being chased around by Wrongtree, and Inamorata would naturally pay more attention to her doting boyfriend, whose name I haven't made up yet.

I don't hate him, he happens to be a friend of mine and a good guy.

I could call him 10,000 spoons. That's amusing.

I'll have to think about that one.


I do not like the word Inamorata anymore, it's a name I made up in the heat of stupidity, but I can't just go changing these things whenever I list.

Wrongtree then entered the I-don't-drink-a-lot-but-I'm-trashed-now-and-oh-my-god-what-have-I-done-phase where she starts saying how stupid everyone must think she is while I tried to keep her calm, and explain to her that I didn't thought less of her, which is true. I just don't like her that way.

She needed to go home, she couldn't stand, and she was too drunk to keep herself from saying thnigs she was going to regret, but her ride didn't appear to care when I told her.

In fact, everyone looked to be pointedly ignoring us, so I had to help her to the bathroom to be sick, which she turned out to not to be.

I was remembering this nightmare I'd had about a week before where I had displayed my lesser qualities to make Wrongtree do every perverted and nasty thing I could think of, because in the dream she thought it would make me love her.

Emo of me. Stupid. Melodramtic.

But I can't so easily dismiss that vicious pleasure I felt when I realized I'd broken her. When she had that stupid stupid hope in her eyes.

In the dream. I didn't actually do this. That's a detail I shouldn't gloss over, for the sake of my sanity.


Other people question my sanity enough.

Yesterday, the landlord's son decided to show potential tenants through my house unannounced, once again. I had to put up my sword, because I had been playing with it.

What good is having a sword if you can't play with it?

It was a couple (again), who wanted to see the house, because really it's a one bedroom house. I neglected to tell them about the astronomical gas bill, and I think that's why landlordson thanked me before he left, and I felt bad, because that's not a good surprise to have thrust on you.



Inamorata made me feel all warm and happy inside when she told me I was a good person for trying to take care of Wrongtree, but any good qualities I displayed was simply me trying to keep these lesser qualities of mine in check.



While Wrongtree wasn't physically clinging to me, I went outside to smoke and feel like shit. 10,000 spoons joined me and listened to me bitch and moan about lonliness and my love life.

Yes, I know, thank you.

He told me I wasn't a bad person, etc. I though about telling him how I wanted to steal his girlfriend, and I was barely able to contain my mirth.

After he left I couldn't help it any longer, and I started giggling like one psycho motherfucker, because it was too fucking funny.

Heheheheehehheeheeeheheheheheheheheeehheheheheh heheh ehe hehehe hehe heh ehehehe h ehe he ehhe ehe hhehhe he heh ehhe hheheheh heh he eeehehe heheee hehe he he hehhe heh ehhehehehe h eee hhe heh he

heee

Yep.


Then Wrongtree found me and it was back inside to try and get her to sit down, since she couldn't stand. She tried about 5 more times to try and get me to "dance with her", and I finally made her sit down, which made her cry, of course.

Now people noticed.

At that point I decided it that it should have occured to me that I had made things worse with my continued presence, and I in fact desperately wanted to run away so I found my jacket and did that little trick I do where I'm in plain view but people stop seeing me, and left without anyone noticing. I was far too drunk to drive, and having no one to take me home and nowhere else to stay I opened my trunk from the inside of the car so no one would see, closed myself in and curled up and slept.

So I woke up in a pitch black close space, and of course, I didn't know where I was.

But I didn't panic, although it took me about five minutes to find the latch, because I had turned myself around in my sleep.

It was 4AM, so I didn't think twice about pissing in the parking lot, although I did nearly get caught with my pants down by the police.


You should know things like this.

You should also know that this weekend I purchased a squeaking attack lobster. Because I wouldn't just buy any old lobster.

I named my squeaking attack lobster Oscar, because.

If you bend his tail under his body and release him, he springs forward with a fiercesome SQUEAK.

He also squirts water, apparently.

He's not perfect though, he has a sickly-sweet smell to him, and his anntanae are swept to his left side, but I knew all these things when I picked him out and I will love him irregardless.

Irregardless is now a word, by the way.

I've thought about listing these names I make up for people and who they are. I've also thought about including pictures, but that would probably be just for validation purposes. That would be bad.

Besides, I don't have the skills.



What was I saying about Dallas?

Gyah

I had big, dramatic things I wanted to write about, but they sort of fade away when I think about them now, maybe later.

I've noticed my post times are about 3 hours off, they should be fixed now.


I'm trying to prove to myself that it's okay to make short posts.




So hard.

A N N O T A T E D B I B L I O G R A P H Y

Ann-oh-tated Bib-leo-graph-ee
Ahn-o-tat-ed Bibly-o-gra-fee
Ah-no-tat-ed Bib-lee-ah-graf-ee


I have something else I'm supposed to be doing, so here I am.

Ah-no-ta-ted Bi-blyo-gra-fee

I'm supposed to turn in a fancy works cited before I start on the paper. It's really just to make sure that, yes, we do actually know there is a paper due sometime before the semester is up.

It looks scary, but it's catering to the lowest common denominator, in this case: me.

When it comes to time-management, I am the lowest common denominator, but having a decent amount of intelligence gets me by.

I need ten sources, I've already printed out one (1) from JSTOR, so 9. Or I might do ten more just to have more than the absolute minimum, which would make me look better.

Probably not.

I'm going to write on physician assisted suicide. I just now decided this, but I wouldn't have decided until 2 months from now if not for this A-not-a-ted Beh-bee-ah-graa-fee, which is how I know this assignment is just for me. People like me made this happen.


I really shouldn't aspire for too high in life, if I want to continue to influence policy.

I didn't even read the article, I just looked at the title and printed it out.

Lowest Common Denominator.


I'm the OCD LCD.

The RCD/ICR PT.

The LOL in NAD.

I'm reading the House of God, and so I know that GOMERS GO TO GROUND.


Now why exactly am I in a medical ethics class?

I couldn't stand to be a doctor.

2

The second one was over some sort of definition of euthanasia. It's seventeen pages long so I can't rightly say more.

These are long articles so far 15 and 17 pages. This also makes me look good.

I think.

It's expensive to print out though. Ick.

3

Euthanasia: None Dare Call it Murder

Mrr?

I should read that and make sure it's not stupid. 9 pages.

It starts out with a story of how a son mercy killed his mother with 3 bullet wounds to the head.


This piques my interest, I'll probably end up analogyzing euthanasia (my I hope that's the same as physician assisted suicide, or at least comparable) to abortion.

It it's not legal, then they'll do it illegally. Obvious argument, but not necessarily bad.

I'm probably going to qoute this Glanville Williams character.


4


Now I can distinguish between active and passive euthanasias.

I'm not feeling particularly bold, and passive euthanasia is so much easier to swallow, so I might focus in on that.

It's only 7 pages, the next one's got to be about 9 or 10.

5

Thirty-three pages.

Of course, I have to summarize each article, that's where the ah-noh-tay-ted in ann-o-tat-eh-d bihb-lee-o-gr-af-ee comes from, but the conclusion of this article is just your basic paragraph, although obviously I'm going to paraphrase and pull things that I skim out of the article, to do otherwise would be just asinine.

It'd probably break some rule too, who knows?

There's lots of rules.

Half done, and it's just now the witching hour. Time to take a break.



The men's basketball team lost to Florida, which is a good thing, because otherwise there would have been a riot like last year.

I don't care much for my school's fans.

I just come to basketball games to watch the dance team.

And of course, play in the band.


6

23 pages. It, apparently, takes two arguments against physician assisted suicide and shreds them. I noticed the word "absurdity" as I was scanning the article, so it simply has to be absolutely essential to my research.


My favorite one to watch is also the one everyone seems to make fun of, because she's the only one who's not skinny. Her body type is not such that it's flattering to wear midriff baring tights, though she's far from flabby, obviously, as she's a gymnast and the captain of a dance team.

She can do that side-flip type thing without using any hands. I call that impressive. She also has striking blue eyes, she must, otherwise you wouldn't see them from 20 odd yards away. She doesn't appear too bright, unfortunately.

I write about girls too much.

7

4 pages, the confounding statistic.

Besides, I thought I saw the phrase "it follows that", which seems to be in tune with the philosophical bent of an ethics class.

Quater til one. I'm feeling pretty chill.

I'll get home about 2ish, have a couple of beers and sleep with a nice buzz.

I'll get up about 6:30ish, and actually summarize everything. My class is at 9:30, I'll be fine. I might skip Mushrooms Friday to catch up on sleep, but on the other hand I'm actually free this weekend, so I might not.

8

15 pages, an argument against my position, which I think I'll use...somehow. It's always good to know what the other side thinks, yes?

9

13 pages, something by some past Surgeon General. It's pretty much against my position, but he offers up a case where passive euthanasia would be considered acceptable.

All I have to do is twist his words a little, and I've got an argument.

I don't think I'll do that, but whatever.


Not much time left, this building closes at 2.

I feel as if I should put something here, but it's not coming to me.


I was reaching into the compartment in my bag with paper clips in it, and I nearly got stuck by a thumbtack.

I have gold thumbtacks in my bag, and I don't know why.

At the last women's game I played at, I got a 90% scale model poster of the only attractive women's basketball player, so I though I might finally get rid of those tacks mounting the poster to the door facing the kitchen, to freak out Roomate.

Because it's an almost actual-size poster of a six foot high blonde leering at you.

It's creepy, even though she's pretty.

But Roomate wouldn't stand for it, so nothing much happened with that, so it's just there in my room (rolled up, I originally thought I'd like it, but as I said, it's just too damn creepy). Maybe I'll use it in some sort of practical joke.

X

Now we're in the bonus. This one is 21 pages long and argues that medicine is already heading towards an ethical attitude where at least passive euthanasia is acceptable.

I think I'm done.

But not quite with the Ahn-o-tayt-ed Beeb-lee-ah-graa-fee.