07/08/2004 - 1:41 p.m. | i bought a window display and married her at once

I had a terrible case of writer's block last night. The thing is, I hesitate to call it that because I actually have a pretty easy time writing (as you have no doubt deduced). I just have to think it's worth my time, you know, and I wasn't so sure about this fucking article summary I had to do for marketing. I mean, it's easy shit - one page double-spaced article summary about some boring ass thing in Wisconsin I picked for God knows what reason - but I could not get myself focused on it; I kept getting up to watch cartoons. Finally, I decided that to get it done, I was going to head down the path of many a young, talented writer: I was going to get shit-faced. I figured I'd be like Hemingway. Unfortunately, I think he drank scotch, and I'm not nearly that manly or well-equipped, so I just played this stupid little one man Nintendo drinking game with the overly-fermented box wine that I can't even pretend to enjoy anymore. Strangely enough, this all did very little to aid in my productivity. I mean, I was only about halfway to where I wanted to be (screaming Enon only a little, I mean) when Kyle and Spritz asked if I wanted to go eat. Hell yes, I said. We must! And then I decided to prove beyond a doubt that I know all the words to Ludacris' "What's Your Fantasy?" by screaming them at the girls in the downstairs apartment. I think this is the second time something like this has happened. They must think I'm insane - or ADORABLE!

We went to Jimmy John's to get raped by their once upon a time low prices and dropped off Spritz at Jen's, Kyle driving his SUV back to the homestead and eventually losing the keys for pretty much everything in the process. But! Who remembered where the keys were this morning? Not sober, forgetful Kyle, frantically checking in the refrigerator and down by the condoms! That's right, formerly drunken Nate who had seen them the previous night while singing... something(???) on Kyle's bed and who made note of it because he is a OBSERVATIONAL GENIUS and who dredged up this information from the pits of despair!

So, yes. Kyle was lost in Infantry, and I was trying very hard to write this thing, and I got about a paragraph done - and admittedly, it was an excellent paragraph - but Hemingway it seems I am not. I decided to run to the gas station to buy some cigarettes to see if I could fake smoke them. Because I don't want the toxins in my lungs, all right? So I bought some sour apple gum (I hate sour apple?) and whatever pack of cigs looked the coolest - Salem Black Labels, apparently - and took them home and sat out on the porch and exhaled through them so that they would still burn (most of the time) and so that I would look like the cool motherfucker God obviously intended me to be. Hmm. After about three of those, I fully intended to get back inside and write like a beast, but it was still pretty boring, and I should like to take a nap first, I thought. And then that quickly became however many hours, at which point I lurched up and banged through another paragraph or so, except I had to be in class shortly, and there was no time to both finish and print, so I decided to do neither. "Printer problems," I said. "I'll e-mail it to you later today!" "Fine," Larry said. "You pathological liar."

It seems fitting that the only time I have volunteered to speak in class was to argue about Josie & the Pussycats. With the deaf kid. We were talking (Well, they were... I was wishing for shorts on You-Know-Who) about publicity and how they used it in movies sometimes to offset costs. So, the guy raises his hand, and he says (Well, his interpreter says), "I saw this movie - it was kind of a stupid one - called Josie & the Pussycats and the whole thing was filled with all these product placements for Target and Coke and everything else. There were so many of them that it got to be distracting, but I guess it must have paid for a lot of the movie." Ignoring the whole "stupid" part (because I knew the tirade would be long enough without me going on about substandard taste in cinema), I shot up my hand about halfway through his speech. "Actually, the filmmakers weren't paid for a single product placement in the movie. They did it all as a social satire about marketing and publicity in our current day and age." I wanted to add, "And if you read IMDB or listened to the commentary [Oops!], you might know that!" but there is this one chunk of tact that makes me hold my tongue on the occasional unspeakable. But that shut him up, didn't it? Damn straight.

*finally checks his voicemail* Let's see... a very stoned-sounding message from Justin. I'll get back to him on that one. An invitation from one of the nymphos M to go with her and Caitlen to Rockford. From last Thursday. Whoops. Too bad I only think I'll get bad news from this thing, huh?

It also occurs to me that some point in the evening that I sent at least a couple of text messages (Did I ask for Kim's number? I think I did) and tried to add a bunch of random people to my Facebook. I think the feeling at the time was if "Erin Yamaoka" can do it, so can I.

I finally just finished up the stupid article summary. To make up for its untimeliness, I added a haiku summary at the end. "social marketing / limos instead of crashes / wisconsin knows it" I'd better get 6 out of 5 points on that motherfucker, am I right? I have to shower and make a clay golem now, all right?