October 30th, 2004

if i gave a crap

note to self #435,613

Dear Self,
Hi. Please DO NOT read books discussing Some Author's Theory of the Shaping of the American Meritocracy by an Elite Class of SAT-Acin' Baby-Boomer Ivy League Lawyers Led By Warren Buffett's Investment Advisor's (Who-Also-Founded-a-Major-Law-Firm's) Daughter when you are tired, overworked and premenstrual. You should know by now that contemplating such matters in said state always makes you want to kill everyone in the world and send your own offspring into the forest to be raised by tapirs. That's TAPIRS, WITH NO FORMAL EDUCATION, WHO HAVE NEVER TAKEN A STANDARDIZED TEST.

Thank you,
The Management

(nr: Justice Harlan's wife's memoirs of life in antebellum Kentucky...much more relaxing)
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Pingouin a Paris

May the Halloween Bunny hop over yer grave.

There's a medium-large rabbit hanging out all friendly-like in our yard. Maybe he got confused about what holiday this is, or maybe he just wanted to be different. It's nice foggy damp bunny weather, at any rate.

Lots and lots of Things lately making me think Lots and lots of People have People in their Past that they just can't shake. Like, even if you can't really talk to each other 'cuz it always, ALWAYS ends up in some misunderstanding, there's always going to be some weird bond there. this song just came on the car radio on my way to 7-11 and it made me smile 'cuz I was remembering the first time I ever heard it, when it was a brand new live song not even recorded yet, on GNR's first big national tour opening for Aerosmith. the minute I heard the words, I started to laugh and laugh. 'Cuz I didn't take it to be literally about domestic violence or Axl beating Erin Everly or any of that (This world is too damn literal). For me it was more like dark, dark humour all about those people who drive you so nuts with mixed feelings, you wish they'd die so you wouldn't have to deal with their behavior or think about them anymore. But not die all the way bcuz on some weird level that makes you wonder about yourself and your own tolerance for abuse, you still want 'em sort of distantly, unbuggingly, around. In the box in the back of your mind, if nowhere else.

I used to love her, but I had to kill her,
I used to love her, but I had to kill her,
I knew i'd miss her,
So I had to keep her,
She's buried right in my back yard.

I used to love her, but I had to kill her,
I used to love her but I had to kill her,
She bitched so much,
She drove me nuts,
And now we're happier this way.
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