07/15/2003 - 9:41 p.m. | genetically, my fetish makes more sense than yours does

Somedays I just don't feel like I can make it through. Well, at first. When I go to the factory this morning (after driving past "EL FORD"), I felt like that entirely. I didn't stop working because, well, I never stop, but I had the urge to just lie down on the floor today. Didn't want make any more stupid panels, didn't want to ever come back to this place ever again, don't care how much I can make. Everything seemed like it took a tremendous effort to get done, and nobody was ever gonna give a fuck. And it was like that for about 3 hours. Then, I was saved. By Elvis Costello. "My Aim is True" is the perfect angry nerd album. Yes, I do give a shit, and frankly that bugs the hell out of me. Good to be in the same boat as someone else. So, in honor of this, Elvis gets a little space to spew quotes throughout this entry.

They think that I've got no respect but Everything is less than zero

Boy, Nate, certainly a lot more entries with pictures these days, huh? This isn't because you've got nothing to do with your life, is it? Of course not. I'm typing this in the middle of an orgy. :| Anyway, what with my disturbing morning behavior, I really wasn't up for following anyone's idiotic plans today. Tim was like, "Daw, fill that rack up for Troy again first." Yeah, I'll get right on it. Or, since he's just gonna fuck steal from Tom's pile anyway, I'll ignore you and do what I want. Much better. Anxiety level way down. Yes, that prolly is just enabling my little OCD, but temporary solutions are better than none. Troy would come over to steal some more, look at his completely empty rack, and kind of give me a look. I smiled and waved, both obnoxiously (how else?) Screw trying to care about these guys and their needs. Social Darwinism. That counts as justification for everything.

Sometimes I wish that I could stop you from talking When I hear the silly things that you say

I made myself laugh out loud today. I was thinking about something or other (not really important), and I came to the conclusion, "Seriously, I piss showmanship." I smell a catchphrase, folks. Once I was out of my little funk, I was pretty much back to normal, the only one who smiles or makes any non-uberdepressed neutral face the whole day through. Even though it never feels like it, the days go by a lot faster than they seem. Probably because I listen to albums 2 times each. This kills my ears because the headphones start pinching after a while. Between that and the fact I have to twitch to make the left speaker work, I would say these are 5 star headphones. I could buy new ones, but I find I enjoy using my money on things you might not necessarily call useful. I want some junk candy so bad[ly] right now. Tart 'n' Tinys. Aw, yeah.

Oh, I said, "I'm so happy I could die" She said, "Drop dead," then left with another guy

Elvis Costello isn't necessarily a handsome man, is he? But that doesn't mean he lacks charm. One can relate. So, I went to pee or something, and when I came out of the bathroom, I noticed that where the cabinets used to be (Harve rented out like a third of the space of the factory to this cabinet company for storage - pays for his taxes on the building, I guess), there's all of a sudden this new building being erected. What the heck? A building inside of a building? So, Tom's admiring (slowly, as is his fashion), and I come up to ask him what it's for. He mumbles something about it being a dust-free, controlled environment for a CCN blah blah blah. First of all, dust-free? Perhaps they thought this was a different type of factory. I should go show them my jeans. Then again, I haven't washed those for, uh, 2 months now, so it might be a little exaggerated. Still, this is not the best place for a sterile environment. Second, I don't know what a CCN is, and I guess I'm supposed to, but I wasn't about to ask the guy with the tag sticking out of his hat. For the second day in the row. I'd tell him, you know, but it's sort of become a curiosity for me.

I'd like to get right through the way I feel for you But I've still got a long way to go

Dad came pretty much right on time (was taking the first bite of my sandwich in the relaxing coolness). Came home (no new Avrils), tried to read, ate disgusting junk food, crashed for several hours. Same old story. Ate dinner, watched TV. Dunno - I always have these grandiose plans for what I'm gonna do after work, and then I'm just wiped out. I think I'll have an ice cream bar. Or like my 7th glass of orange juice.

Now that your picture's in the paper being rhythmically admired

That's my favorite one :D The wagon isn't repaired yet (tomorrow hopefully), which means sort of a rough morning for me. Dad has an early meeting to go to, so I've got to be out the door by quarter to six. Oh, man. Them's not good tidings. I've avoided coffee so far this summer, but I'm not so sure about tomorrow. Three advantages to this, though: 1) Will have an hour to sing by myself before anyone else arrives, 2) Can actually build up a decent surplus of panels before the cretins arrive, and 3) Dad will be picking me up early as well, so hopefully I can make up for lost time later on. Here's hoping. I should go soon, though. Have a nice night, and a special thanks to Mr. Costello.

This came totally out of nowhere:

Afka blafka blah: Why do your turds come out with a point on the end?
Afka blafka blah: so your butthole doesn't slam shut!

As he said himself, 10 points for Slytherin.