Tom's blog is like a cross between Jackie Harvey's The Outside Scoop and Get Your War On. Speaking of the latter, here is my very favorite strip:
Last night when I got home, I found the bathroom door shut and some plastic bag sticking out from underneath. I went to open it, since the cat can't go to the bathroom if the door is shut, and I found her in there, in the dark, clutching some pieces of bag. She had apparently dragged the bag from the living room into the bathroom so she could be with the bag and her litter box at the same time, but it most have hooked on the door and pulled it shut. She sulked when I took it away from her. There were pieces of plastic in the throw-up I'd found that morning, so it's not like she was doing anything good with it, anyway. She sulked more when I had to move the furniture around to change all the lightbulbs in the house, replacing them with low-wattage bulbs. She sat in her litter box and hissed.
I tried to make fish last night but failed miserably. I wanted to broil it, so I set the oven temperature to "Broil" and put the fish in the drawer underneath the main drawer. That is the broiler, no? Well, it didn't get hot. at. all. It was awful. Maybe I'll try again tonight.
When I got into bed with Mer, we had the following conversation.
"Did you staple the thing? The staple... is it okay?"
"What thing? You want me to staple something?"
"No... is the staple okay?"
"Yeah, it's fine."
"It's fine? What do you mean it's fine?"
"Hey, hey. Calm down, you're dreaming. You're asleep."
"No, I'm not. Why did you staple it?"
"Woah, I didn't. I didn't staple anything!"
"Bastard! That's so annoying!"
"Don't call me bastard!"
"Okay, sorry."
Is it a party foul to link to Blogger.com on your blog? They know what to do when your mom finds out about your blog.
From the New York Times Arts section:
One might expect that a woman with a privileged background who was educated at the Chapin School in Manhattan and Princeton University would have been sheltered from many of the hardships that "The Moonlight Room" unflinchingly explores --- the street drug Special K, buying guns, a teenager locked out of his own home blah blah blahYo, correct me if I'm wrong, but isn't all that stuff NYC private school to a tee? Except for the part about getting locked out -- I mean maybe if the doorman on duty was busy helping someone with a suitcase and you forgot your keys or something, then it makes sense. Those kids from Collegiate used to steal my lunch money and use it to buy Advil!
I don't feel like writing anything else in the blog now. I don't know. It's very difficult for me to get motivated to do anything creative once I get home. Like every creepy young man out there, I have an idea in my head for a book that I may not ever write. I mean, there are lots of ideas every day that you get where you're like, "Hey, that's interesting. I'd like to write a novel or a story or design a game about that," but there's this one plot or ambient feeling that I've had for a long time that I want to work on, and I never do. I'm walking home from work or from Tom's place or wherever and I'm a little bit drunk, maybe, and there are dead leaves all over the sidewalk and I'm walking past the deserted basketball courts on Sterling St. or wherever and I think to myself, "hey, that would be fun to work on when you get home." But all I do is program the Christing box all night. Want to make your code i18n-compliant? Try GNU gettext.
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