08/18/2003 - 9:51 p.m. | ooh, but it's easy to see! ooh, we could dance and be free!

Today was hardly anything different (welding, winding), considering it's my second to last day, but I don't really expect anything different tomorrow either. Travo's gone, I guess, and I think Andrew/Jon is too. Doughboy came back at last today, but man, the week off didn't make him any less fucking useless. Imagine that real life suddenly became The Sims or something. Doughboy would be controlled by a mildly-retarded Japanese girl who doesn't understand what the rules of the game are. "Oh, I can make him dance!" And dance he should.

I functioned without glasses or contacts today. It's hard to believe that there was some time in the past that I would've had to survive like this. I would be lopped right off the food chain, I'll tell you what. Hmmm - actually, maybe it is about time I start believing in social darwinism. It's certainly likely to piss people off at the very least. I was also thinking (admist vampires and arcane archers) about how, yeah, my nose is stuffy and my head aches because of allergies and my mouth sort of hurts because of wisdom teeth, and in this age, we don't just put up with it. There's Nasalcrom and ibuprofen and oral surgery. In short, we are all wusses. So, social darwinism! I'll be the first to go, but it will lead to a better tomorrow!

Snake King has asked like six times when I'm leaving, but Harve - Harve, who has forgotten employees' names at times - remembered from a month ago that I said I was gonna stay 'til Wednesday and made a point to give me shit about it today. I'm sure it's just a sign of affection or something, but seriously. Fuck off. I'm the only one who comes into that place with regularity. Leave me alone.

For a while, I tried this really slow peaceful, careful winding. Almost like a whimsical dance. I was fluid, man. Fluid. But this bastard fly kept landing on my face (I don't like what this implies about the odor and/or appearance of my visage). I tried to ignore it, but it kept at it, so I grabbed a rubber mallet and started chasing it around the factory floor until I caught the little shit. Smashing a fly with a mallet is among the most gratifying things I've ever done.

After work, I stopped at Wal-mart to get a few things, came home, read, slept, had a dream that my mom told me to go to the store (that wasn't a dream apparently), ate, and watched Billy Elliot because I had had sort of a craving at work to watch it. It's pretty cute, as is Billy himself. And I like Debbie, the girl who sort of likes him. Kids are cute.

Man, I don't know if I feel up for talking to anyone. All the things I thought I liked are kind of disturbing me now. Weird weird weird.

Also, my shirt's been buttoned wrong all day. Cretin. When I was driving through the Somonauk/Sandwich area, pretty much every billboard outside was welcoming home Josh Mager, some soldier who I guess just got back from Iraq. At least a dozen of them, even the shitty places. "WELCOME HOME, SGT. JOSH MAGER!" That's sort of sweet of them, especially since I don't think they even have a newspaper to spread the news one. One billboard had a typo or something, though, because it said, "HOOAH FOR JOSH MAGER." HOOAH HOOAH HOOAH. It's fun. Say it with me. HOOAH. Then I noticed the van in front of me was from Minnesota. Mapquest must have led them here. *rimshot* HOOAH

OK, as official head of household, I sanction that one night a week, we will steal Michelle's blender (er - Kyle will steal Michelle's blender) and we will make pi�a coladas - real ones with coconut milk and pineapple juice. And I don't give a flying fuck if you don't like pi�a coladas. We're doing this shit. I have decreed it. And we're gonna listen to the song on repeat. "If you like pi�a coladas and getting caught in the rain / If you're not into yoga; if you have half a brain!" Sing it, Rupert Holmes, you balding cardigan-sweater wearing idiot! Midnight margaritas to come. HOOAH