12/04/2004 - 7:37 p.m. | ...but i was

WHERE ARE YOU eMall.com?!?!?! Fuckers blew us off!! Spent all that time waiting and drinking and making a welcome poster... for naught! Piss! RAR! Damn you, Quixtar (Is that right?) Where are my free samples?! How shall I make my thousands now?! Anger! OK, so it's probably not a bad thing at all. Actually, it is almost surely for the best, having gotten them off my back without getting the police involved or having to fight off the huge black man as he tackles Kyle. The best theory I heard (besides the one where, yeah, maybe I skipped that one meeting and so they gave up on me) is that maybe they only had enough material for a certain number of meetings. Either they tricked the person into giving them their money, or the person caught on and stopped going. They had no idea when some guy just kept going to all the meetings without doing shit either way. I beat the system, baby!!

And the chicken cheese enchilada Chicken Helper we got was astoundingly good, minus the jizz sauce Shelly insisted soaking the whole thing in. I was so hungry today, so when I went to the store to buy milk, I was suddenly grabbing everything I could find. I was on the phone with Missy, and she was telling me about some nasty gingerbread she had, and I start off on this tangent. "Man, have you had molasses cookies, though?! That shit is good! Oh man, I gotta grab me some! Fuck! And some chocolate milk!" She says I should get chocolate soy milk instead, but I argue that it gives me the poops right next to this poor guy looking at the stuf. "Sorry, man. It might not for you, right!" I really like buying one piece of fruit at a time. Today I got one Fuji apple, and it made me so darn happy. But more than that would've just been annoying. Just like these short entries.

The other night was the GE barcrawl, right, so obviously both Smacko and myself would go along for it. There is the inherent problem of bars being very uninteresting most of the time, but what do you care? All sorts of orange idiocy was trickling down into these cesspools from the crushing defeat of the number one team in the nation by our very own Fighting Illini. I factor in the sitcom dad coach's hideously bright orange blazer. No one could focus. Too. Much. Blazer. Anyway, there isn't even really anything to note, except we kept running into Jake Gyllenhaal (a.k.a. Pat Doran, the artist who draws "The Way Life Should Be" in the DI). Apparently, we are destined to be mortal enemies. I am helpless to do anything but watch as our existences intertwine. I first met him at Bingo last Sunday (an entry in itself, I promise) where I kept loudly referring to him as Mr. Gyllenhaal. That could be construed as a compliment, but I'm not sure it was taken (or given) as such, so instead, he kept trying to burn me with his cigarette. Or the things that I owned with his cigarette. Like my legs. Then, two days later, I'm in Art Coop buying that stupid paper I promised I would not mention, and the girl is all like, "Do you know Pat Doran?" To which I go, "Well, he tried to burn me the other day." And she says, "But, have you been to any of his parties?" Nope. "I thought I saw you there." She kept pushing the issue. She wasn't half cute either. But you know me; Melissa has ruined me for all other ladies. Anyway, that evening I saw him at 3 bars or something. And this Jewish kid kept buying everyone drinks to try and get girls (e.g. Shelly) to like him. Luckily, I just jumped on the bandwagon and got me some sweet, sweet asswater. The important part of this story is how cool Smacko is. As we were going between bars, this hobo comes up to us with this shitty flower and tries to get us to buy it for Shelly. "We can't buy her a flower," Spritz says. "She's a ho'bag." This upsets the bum. "You can't car her names like that, man... unless you buy her a flower!" Can't argue with that hobo logic, can you? So we scraped together to get the piece of shit, which Smacko determined the bum must have bought at K-mart. Made up a little story about it, too. "Now, bum. These flowers are too shitty for us to sell, but we'll give 'em to you for two bucks. And then you can sell each of the flowers for a buck each. Think of how much shitty beer that will buy you!" And then he does a smiling pose as the bum (His smiling poses are a crucial factor to his comedy, I feel, and this one was somewhat reminiscent of a Barrel of Monkeys monkey). "He just stands there and holds it for like ten minutes," Smacko says. It was just crucial to point out how funny this was to me.

Plans for the evening were pretty scarce. I came downstairs to find Emmy and Smacko watching a religious game show for kids, which inspired me to start yelling like a faith healer, followed by spouting a wealth of information about the "Left Behind" series of books and movies (with Kirk Cameron!). We hit the video store looking for a copy, but apparently their standards are too high. Luckily, I remembered (Ah, thank you, wealth of knowledge again) that they almost for sure had the shit at Wal-mart - and for cheap! So there was the rest of the evening. I do so love my literal interpretations of the Book of Revelations. Now, honestly, it would be very easy to have faith if things went down like they do in the story. If people start disappearing, and it rains blood and frogs and whatnot, I won't be going, "Well, I'm not too sure if I believe yet..." I'll have a dramatic breakdown in the bathroom like Kirk Cameron and then my heart will be full of the lord. And blood. The lord and blood. Good thing God was so sporting as to give us faithless seven years of fucking miserable death hell to figure shit out. Thanks!! I kinda felt bad for the Antichrist, though. I mean, sucker was basing his whole plan of operations around quotes from the Bible and shit. Ezekiel blah blah blah was like, "This temple is gonna get built, and the Antichrist is gonna set on the throne and say he is God." "Well, piss," said Satan. "That's exactly what I'm gonna do!" So he follows this plans tra la la la la - skip ahead a few pages, man! Your planbook also says you're gonna lose! Didn't you think this out?! Maybe he's overconfident. "Man, I know I'm gonna win, even though this thing says I'm not, but hey - what the fuck? I'll go through with this ridiculous plan just to spit in His face. I'm sure things will come out different!!" But maybe he knows that it won't, and it bugs the shit out of him. "Man, this job sucks! I gotta do all this scheming all the time and pretend to be a good girl and fuck the airline attendant chick, and then shit! Jesus is gonna do his little magic thing, and then it's all fucked! Oh well... back to work then." Predestination must be really annoying.

I knew you were gonna say that.