06/03/2003 - 9:58 p.m. | come over and wear her clothes while i film you

Sometimes I can't recall why I named my diary as I did, but my bowels certainly won't let me forget!! New theory about why come I�m so skinny: My body just happens to have a built-in automatic ass bulimia system. �Oh no,� it says. �He�s almost 120 pounds!? Abandon ship!� Flush. Thank you so much, guys.

Hours: 8 (10-6)
$$$: $80.40
CDs:
-�Kill the Moonlight� � Spoon
-�Icky Mettle� � Archers of Loaf
-�Flood� � They Might Be Giants
-�Stunt� � Barenaked Ladies
-�Look Sharp!� � Joe Jackson
-�OTRA� mix CD

I woke up an hour early today, and with no discernible task to waste my extra time on, I decided to leave early as well. But, since � these days � the drive is the best part of my day (the possibility of it, you know?), I decided to take an alternate route, going south to 52 and then east to 47 and back north to work even farther than I usually have to go. I didn�t say it was a good plan. But, I did hear these two DJs talk about how drunk Louie Anderson was on �Family Feud� and how he couldn�t pronounce foreigners� names (one of them did fairly good impressions, which really completed it for me), so it was a happy ride. Fuck the rain.

Snake King was out today :( but he had left the other cretins with instructions for me to do the same thing as yesterday. Fine by me. I�m getting faster at winding tomato pens, and today Harve did a complete 180 moodwise. He took a look at the ones I had completed, and he moaned, �Very good! Oh, yeah� these are nice.� Semi-erotic, and I�m not sure if he was talking to me or the machine, but as long as it gets him off my back. The two hours in the morning passed by pretty quickly, and then it was off to the welder all afternoon. It was sort of a sleepy afternoon today. Which is to say that I was sleepy, so I just kind of welded with my eyes half-closed and my mind in a cloudy state. It worked OK. �Man, my feet hurt!� �Naw, dude! You�re just dreaming they do!� �Oh�� Not that I have much to worry about. Doughboy and Travo are both winding, but they appear to have half a brain between them (or whatever motivates me to try and work quickly), so I�m way ahead of them. I�m running out of space to put welded stuff, so I can take my time if necessary.

On the tracks of the welder, there is this grease that looks almost exactly like blood (It isn�t though. I tasted it). Anyway, every once in a while, I grab a completed panel and rub some of this grease on it, so that it looks like someone was terribly mangled in the process of making this fine piece of gardening supply. Isn�t that a nice touch? �Someone died so my tomatoes could grow tall and strong!"� And Harve thinks I don�t pay attention to detail.

You know, it�s funny. I normally have a pretty good memory, I think, but there are always all these holes whenever I try to think about the summer. Like, I was trying to think about something I did yesterday (what I ate or an idea I had or something), and it was so hard! Details were already so foggy! And when I tried to think about last summer, I could hardly remember anything at all! I believe, folks, that this is the secret to my success. As a means of making room for more Kelly Clarkson lyrics and as an effort to block out how truly awful my summers probably are, during these three months, my brain erases all knowledge of each day almost as soon as it has passed. Thank you, brain. I owe you one.

I was on my way out today, filling out my paysheet when I saw this little notebook on the desk that said something along the lines of �6/02 - Nathan needs to be taught how to stack boxes on the pallet correctly. I spent 15 minutes fixing the one he worked on.� HAHAHA Wonder who narced on me!! Anyway, I covertly flipped through the book just to make sure it wasn�t entirely about all the times I have fucked up, and it wasn�t, although that would be pretty cool. But yeah, I know I stacked the pallet wrong, but I�m playing the ignorance card for all it�s worth. I knew it would be Travo�s problem and that he would be too passive-aggressive to tell me himself, so I�ll just get shown in a friendly manner by Snake King tomorrow. Seriously, screwing around with these guys� heads behind their backs is one of the things that keeps me going. �Oh, man! I�m sorry! No one showed me how to do the pallets, so I just tried my best� *single tear* Ha.

I was especially exhausted today, but the drive home rejuvenated me. Turned on the oldies station just in time for the mandolin part of �Maggie Mae.� The mandolin part! Without all that bullshit �singing� and �guitar.� Pure gold. This was followed by �Say It Ain�t So� and Jewel�s �Intuition,� so I was a pretty happy camper. It�s a shame I�m not any good at music because I really like it a lot.

Speaking of which, after cackling to �Seinfeld� (again) with my dad - AND RISOTTO - Mom and I watched �American Juniors� on FOX. Neither of us really wanted to, but that�s sort of how things just fell together. I dunno � I don�t feel the same draw I did to the other series, possibly because I know all these little shits are gonna hit puberty, and then there voices are fucked anyway. No more trills for you, Monique. Actually, if I could be guaranteed that was going to happen to one of the finalists over the course of the show, I would watch. That could be the real game! But FOX is full of lies and trickery, so damn them and their reality TV. Asshole parents and supposedly good singing (by which I mean trills again) just aren�t doing it for me. Then watched some other FOX show about a wacky fish out of water New York cop in England! It�s trying very hard to be quirky, but I don�t know if it passes the test. What does then? Hm. There. Covered everything. Everything is nicely covered.