07/01/2004 - 3:20 a.m. | and the devil don't care if you're a fish or you're a stick

Another piece falls into place: Kyle bought a Chumbawumba CD from the thrift store today. We were just - yes, 3:15 am just - driving around the neighborhood, blaring "Tubthumping" at criminal levels, the car weaving spastically as we danced in a manner even moreso. The yelling, the eratic motion, the silence otherwise throughout the rest of society? I dunno, guys. It was fucking picturesque is what it was. It's just such an obnoxious over-the-top fakey-party song that to act like we were seriously enjoying ourselves (were we?) at this time in this capacity was perfect. This goes in the movie. Kyle driving off with it blasting as he starts it over again goes in the movie. Listening to it on repeat for the entirety of the drive to St. Louis definitely goes in the movie. There's a thought - tomorrow is Old 97's Day!! That makes me joyful for an entirely different set of reasons.

Imagined conversation between an uncle and myself:

Uncle: So, are you enjoying that pocket knife I got you for Christmas?
Me: Yep!
Uncle: What have you been using it for? Whittling duck decoys? Skinning animals?
Me: Actually, I've been using it to carefully modify Necco Wafers so's they can fit into gumball machines! It hasn't worked yet, but once it does, free gum and shitty toys for life!!

My son the woodsman. At least Michelle's grandma thinks I'm "good lookin." Fucking asswipe Kyle has to be "REAL good lookin," though. Must it always be this way? God, won't I be exhausted tomorrow when I stomp into class to turn in my paper, check to make sure Perfect Legs isn't wearing a skirt and/or shorts (A "skort," they call it! Summer Sanders lives and dies by them), and stomp back out again? WHY DO I SMELL LIKE SOUP, he wonders most of all. It's too late for this nonsense! Drivel!