On a bit of a roll, tonight, writing-wise, and I don’t want to mess it up.  I’ll meet you back here tomorrow.

N.P.: “Show Me How To Live” – Audioslave

Not sure what’s keeping me going these days.  Contempt?  Vengeance?  Toxic amounts of sugar and caffeine?  The power of prayer?   Whatever it is, I’m damn skippy it ain’t that last one.

This was a day of few words, most regrettably written as well as spoken.  Let us hope for a better day tomorrow.

Summers are disgusting.

N.P.: “So Alive” – Love and Rockets

There is light on the horizon, dear reader.  Still many miles to go…but there is light.

Got lots done today.  Nobody told me there’d be days like these…strange days, indeed.  Most peculiar, mama.

N.P.: “Nobody Told Me” – John Lennon

There are presently razor blades made of fire and sadism cutting my uvula and grinding mercilessly at rest of my throat every time I swallow.  It sucks.  It could be all the Tuvan throat singing I’ve been working on recently.  Who knows.  And as long as there’s NyQuil™ (which, thank fuck,there is), who cares.

N.P.: “Always With Me, Always With You” – Joe Satriani

I may or may have not posted anything here last night, and I’m too tired to check.  If I didn’t, I do apologize.  ‘Twas not my intention to be negligent.  The medically induced coma I’d ordered arrived a bit earlier than expected.  Which was great, as far as it went.  But yes.  And but so anyway, you know what pisses me off?  Internet articles with some fill-in-the-blank version of the following headline:  15 Things You Didn’t Know About _______.”  Horseshit, you presumptuous little shit.    More often than not, I knew all 15 before whatever intern who cobbled this turd of an article together was even born.  I’m usually impressed if I learn one factoid from these stupid things.  They evidently assume their readers know exactly nothing, since they’re turning this shit out multiple times a day.  I dunno.  Nevermind.

Oh shit, discerning reader…I think tonight’s previously ordered  medically induced coma is arriving right on time….

N.P. “Stinkfist” – TOOL

Nope, not tonight, dear reader.  Absurd amounts of busyness.  Wrote a short animated film script today that I think would be perfect for Pixar (if Pixar wants to totally change their brand to something much darker).  No idea why…I just got the idea and pounded it out.  ‘Twas cool.  I still need to give the book some love before dawn.

N.P,: “Boy Inside the Man” – Tom Cochrane and Red Rider

Khitan General: My fear is that my sons will never understand me…We won again! [Cheers] This is good. But what is best in life?

Khitan Warrior: The open steppe, a fleet horse, falcons at your wrist, and the wind in your hair.

Khitan General: Wrong! Conan, what is best in life?

Conan: To crush your enemies, see them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women!

Khitan General: [Cheers]…That is good.

N.P.: “Walk the Night” – Skatt Brothers

Gonna be a light one tonight, dear reader.  What’s past overwhelmed?  Sisypheanly fucked?  Unsure what to call it, but that’s where I am.  Still gotta manage to get a page or two in before collapse.

N.P.”Come To Poppa” – Bob Seger

People look at me strangely when they hear or see me yelling at computer interfaces at gas pumps and grocery stores.  It’s been happening a lot, lately.

I’ve been yelling at and occasionally punching computers that say things that both they and I know are bullshit. It’s something that’s been pissing me off for well over a decade now. It started with the enforced polite kindness written into negative responses in the credit card swiper/computer at the gas pump. You slide your card (I know that 10 years from now if anybody is reading this, they will think it extremely dated because “remember when people used to slide cards?”), and the machine asks you some sort of rude question, usually a blatant attempt at upselling or credit card acquisition, an enrollment attempt for some unnecessary service, or an offer to donate to some charity that the business happens to endorse. Which, okay, fine, I guess, whatever, do what you’ve got to do. This issue I have is with the options you are given. It’s either, “Yes!” or “No, thank you.” While my response will of course be an enthusiastic “No,” I have no interest in thanking these assholes for wasting my time with some bullshit patronizing offer that, because I didn’t solicit it, should be obvious I have no interest in. No, I don’t want your stupid offer, But I sure as hell don’t want to thank you for it. But I’m left with no choice: either accept their dumbass offer, or thank them politely for offering. That is fascist. I decide to buy my gas elsewhere. But guess what…elsewhere has similar offers, with the same stupid preprogrammed gratitude. So I decide since I’m no longer going to buy gas, I might as well head to the grocery store to stock up on food.

I go to the self-checkout aisle and scan my first item. “Have you scanned your Club Card?” the idiot computer with the female voice asks. Bish, you know damn well I haven’t scanned my fucking Club Card. If I had scanned it, I’m confident you’d be the first to know. I don’t appreciate your patronizing attempt at cheap, unilateral Socratic banter. Don’t ask me questions if you don’t have ears or the ability to hear my answer. I say at least some of this out loud, as I notice that people are looking at me. Not all of them with condemnation, however…there are a few sympathetic souls who, now that I’ve said it, seem to be thinking, “Yeah, you know…he’s got a point.”

N.P.: “You Keep On Buying It” – Son of Dave

Holy shit, dear reader…I am spent.  “Sunday…the day of rest.”  Yeah, right.  From the same people who brought you the “virgin birth.”

Anyway, yeah…I’m beat.  Must crash.

N.P.: “If All Is Lost” – Eric McFadden Experience