06/18/2005 - 5:30 a.m. | i shot another leaded star

I've gone and done it now. It's late as hell - sun is out and birds are singin' - and I'm not tired at all. I set myself up for it, though. I mean, work went to 1, but that's pretty normal, but first I had to wait for Kyle and Shelly to finish their Scrabble game, and they both strategize far more than is healthy for a game such as that. They are all about real estate and conservation of tiles, whereas I mostly focus on trying to spell "cooter" in one go. But I digress. So we watched the end of "Veronica Mars" - AARON ECHOLLS WAS THE KILLER! LOLOLOLOL I knew it all along - not because I solved the mystery, but because I read it online somewhere. Honestly, there was no way you could have known from the show. We were down to the last two episodes, and they didn't even give the slightest hint it was the guy it ended up being. Some might call it a twist, but I see it more as sloppy writing. Anyway, it degenerated at the end, such that Harry Hamlin suddenly became an indestructible beast who could get thrown from the backseat in a car accident, punch through a window, jump off a roof, get hit by crutches and bottles and shit, light Veronica and her dad (JUST SHOOT ME) on fire, and run off in time to get hit by a flower van... and survive. Yeah, I guess.

Kyle would be pretty mad if he read this, I think. We were driving to Schnucks to get ice cream the day before, and Shelly asks if me if the killer is [The Most Obvious Suspect]. I tell her no, and Kyle really freaks out, slamming his fists repeatedly on the steering wheel and driving all dangerously for the next few minutes. Apparently pet peeves are deadly with him. Shelly, looking to get herself stabbed maybe, started telling him he was "overreacting, overreacting" in this singsong voice. I cannot see what would compel her to do that, I honestly cannot.

Actually, there has been a bit of a "trouble in paradise" vibe going on with their arguing lately. They got into something else stupid the other day, and Shelly started crying. I just sort of kept reading my magazine and wondered if I could safely leap through the window without sustaining too many wounds to run far. I mean, I can see it from both sides. Kyle is a very organized debater, and he will do his very best to argue his beliefs - usually by implying that the other person's are stupid. It makes him seem sort of cold at the time, but that's just how he is when he argues. He keeps things very logical and curt, which can really get to the other person if they have a more emotional base (me, for instance, or most girls). Shelly implied that Kyle was philosophically or perhaps spiritually wrong, and Kyle fought back by attacking that philosophy or spirituality. I understand it, but I'm glad I wasn't involved. It's funny, though - you can tell when Shelly starts floundering when she starts trying to use difficult words to make up lost ground... at about a 50-50 success rate as far as correct usage goes.

Damn my easily-influenced nature! Missy's like, "I don't think I like Tebben very much," and lately I've been all reluctant to see him, like, "Maybe I don't like him." Or she points out what a touchy-feely couple Kyle and Shelly are, or how Shelly simply craves attention, and I am all filled with spite at them for the longest time. I can't have my foundations so easily shaken.

Ducky called at about 4:30 this morning to discuss... well, I'm not sure what. He was pretty trashed (Happy belated 21st birthday, by the way). We sang his version of "Rollout" a lot, and I tried to decide what the most correct definition of "hollaback girl" was, but who knows what really was accomplished? All I know is that he is not coming back for an Asian handjob anytime soon :( :( :(

What have the last few days been? I dunno, let me consult my lists: the only thing that keeps me doing anything at all. I've been running every day, but it would seem I now have shin splints (God's way of telling me this is something I should not be doing?) They sound a lot worse than they are. Like, I'd heard the term before, but I always imagined your shins fracturing, the pieces grinding on one another until they crumble in on themselves. I checked runnersworld.com (oh God, I'm becoming Missy), though, and mostly it means I've been doing too much too soon. Well, either that or I need new shoes, but that is a fucking scam, so we accept the former and will take a break for the weekend. No need to tell me twice, Jesus. Oh wait - I guess there was. Running is about the only thing that makes me sweat, and sweating is about the only thing that makes me break out, so thanks a ton there, Lord! Message received!

BillyC - congrats on your War on Terror award. That is too funny for words.

Weird things have been happening on thefacebook (See, Melissa, it's sort of useful, is it not?) Of course, for normal people, that might mean some girl wanting to jump their bones or I don't know what, but I'm hardly normal. I was specifically invited by this gay guy to join the fanclub for him that other people had made. Jason Weber's "Jason Is the Shit So C'mon & Take a Big Whiff!!" Do I just reek of gay? I don't even know, man. Ok, so that's at least mildly strange, but then this other guy sends me a message, and he's all like, "I hear you play D&D [Dungeons & Dragons]. We should start a gaming group." The thing is, though, he is not a D&D nerd at all. Motherfucker is all big and muscley and works at Abercrombie! And he wants to come over here and be a half-elven sorcerer? Well, fuck yes! I've got enough on my plate as it is, but I'll start writing a campaign if it gets that crazy fucker over here. Maybe it will open up my social scene, he secretly hopes. It's either that or start talking to the girl with the massive ta-ta's who tried talking to me on myspace.

Speaking of ta-ta's, I was reading about this video game today called "Haunted Grounds." It's a horror/survival thing where you're this chick trapped in a castle chased by a big retarded goon who wants to rape you or something. You have your pet dog to help you out, but if you get into too much trouble, the screen gets all fucked up and you start running into walls and junk. It sounds fairly stupid, I'll give you that, but I like horror games, and this is the first told from the perspective of one almost entirely defenseless. Sexist, they say, but I say it's more true to life than you'd think... or at least more like bad 80's horror movies (which are fairly true in themselves, right?) I mean, who's going to go after fucking Quasimodo Man with a fucking shotgun or chainsaw? Oh hell no - I am going to hide in a closet and wait for him to get fascinated by string. Well, anyway, Capcom made the game, and everyone is freaking out because, as Capcom tends to do lately, they have made the chick's boobs bouncier than anything. Think about that: Some Asian nerd sitting in a lab for hours on end, programming polygons or whatever to make it so Tits McGee is all jiggly when she runs up stairs. I bet he has a nonstop boner. Anyway, lots of people are annoyed or offended by this, but I think it's absolutely perfect. It makes me want to play this game all the more. It's such a key part of the horror genre - the girl in the skimpy outfit, running, tits all jiggly - that it's more like an homage in my mind. I mean, seriously, my zombie movie (and there will be one, Satan willing) is going to have the running with jiggle boobs scenes, and I don't even like that sort of thing. It's important, though! ...and maybe I sort of do.

At work tonight Lindsay and I played some old school Nintendo, mostly this horrid old volleyball game that I started to get really good at. I believe I will download it and practice until I am fucking King Spike or whatever. Of course, not in real life, as I suck balls at all games with balls.

Did I already mention this? Job world is still pretty thin; I've had one interview with a lady wearing a fanny pack, and that's it so far, but I might have a new plan. In Kansas, the city Missy is from even, they apparently have this drug testing place where you can go and do clinical trials. You stay there for two weeks taking God knows what to see if it will make your blood boil or whatever, and then they give you $2,500. I could use $2,500. I mean, what do people always say when things are miserable? "At least you have your health!" That's the last thing I want, you crazy cunt, and I am willing to pawn it off to the highest bidder! So there's that. And then I saw something in the DI about fetish photos, and they didn't specify boy or girl, so there's that...

Would he eat a human turd? MAKE HIM AN OFFER!

It feels like there should be plenty more to write about, but maybe I finally winding down because my brain isn't entirely clicking as it should, so I'll just add more later as necessary.

Today's title comes from a fucked up lyrics site. Correct line: "I should have never let it start." But yours makes sense, too, letssingit.net or whatever.

Today's word was "tempermental." I used it like 30 times.