why can't someone just take him for a month? one goddamn month is all i ask.

if i were divorced, i'd be receiving child support every month and i'd get eight weeks off every year.

fuckballs.

whatever happened to grandma's farm?

why is it so f'ing cooold??

oh, yeah. winter.

this certainly explains the scheduled outage. hope they wear their hats. 7:45 pst in a wind-storm sounds mighty brisk.........

i need to go scare up some trouble. being all generous for about two seconds during the holidays took it all out of me.

somebody's going dowwwwnnnnnn.........

i think i'm suffocating chris. do you think i'm suffocating chris? because i think i might be. i just keep commenting and commenting and he just keeps pulling away.. withdrawing. what could be the matter? am i being too needy? i don't want to come across as needy. because if i appear too needy then he'll think i am actually needy and he's likely to accuse me of suffocating him and that's a bad thing.

at least i didn't practically fuck him in the front seat of my car.

i think a relo is in the cards...

did anybody see last night's simpsons episode? marge and homer play the tape of a fight that they had contrived so the kids will stay out of the bedroom while they 'snuggle.' the tape reverses to calliope music and bart pushes open the door, only to witness them in mid (or post) coitous. the next scene takes place the subsequent day, wherein a trembling bart implores milhouse to 'hand him some (milk) duds, man (because he's too truamatized to engage in simple manual tasks)'

milhouse, looking typically bewildered, reflects: 'trust me, bart. it's better to walk in on both your parents than it is to walk in on one!' milhouse lives with his mom. i fucking love this show.

sensing a prospective awkward moment, i muse: 'why didn't they just lock their door??!' as i continue my passage through the room where my son is watching tv. i'm not feeling a great deal of sympathy for kids' perspective on parental sex this week, and there is that little nagging, unresolved issue of his walking in on me a few months back.

it's not like i didn't try to obfuscate my actions with a plausible lie, but ever since this dreaded mishap the big 'M' has descended into an overly-publicized point of non-prurience with me. once you cross THAT boundary, coyness seems a wasted effort.

to that end, i'm proud to announce that a good roll in the hay (sourdough) has done wonders toward helping me render friday's antics forgotten and inconsequential. cleaning helps. vacuuming my car helps. no relatives in town helps.

let's hope that controlled tedium continues to aid me in the path of solitary enlightenment.

as you wizzle....

BORED! bored bored bored bored bored bored. somebody post something!

you know what you people are? selfish, that's what.

isn't this supposed to be the best night on tv? well, that explains a thing or two...

selfish.

i'm through with the first two discs of firefly. i have 'til thursday (ah reckon) to finish the box off. i smell it a few more times, then i return it.

my erstwhile novelist/coworker calls this offering a 'leave behind.'

maybe i should keep it.

perhaps i could also attempt to produce something of value and check a few hundred things off of my 'to do' list, which might alleviate my 'boredom.'

somehow i doubt it....

anyway, my crush lent me this boxed set of the first (oh wait -- only) season's episodes of a sci-fi series that got killed after the first season in response to some doubtlessly retarded, drunken thing i must have said about how much i like 'american dad.'

i like the series. i was so panicked that might be incredibly stupid or so technical that i couldn't follow it. instead, it has been so plot-and-character-packed that you have to rewind a jillion times to figure it out, but that doesn't differentiate it from 24 or prison break or a ton of other tv shit that is built for savants with 54" flat-screen tv's, but i digress.

i just wish he were lying naked with me while we watched it together.

(man, he'd better not ever stumble onto this or any other of my online shit.....)

as you were, my vacationing homies (which explains the traffic of late, or that incurable case of ebola i got during my travels....)

okay, so you remember the guy whose kid i babysit every summer for innumberable weeks and always end up resenting it but i do it anyway, kind of like sex? erm...

so yesterday at work he's looking really somber and says: 'wanna buy a boat?' (he lives on a boat)

etc. etc. where you gonna move, under the bridge is nice this time of year......

so he wants to move to az where his brat lives to be closer to him so he stops flunking out of school like my son does anyway.

SO!! this means two things: i may not have to babysit next summer (or ever again) and i have an opportunity to buy his boat and use it as a liveaboard/weekend retreat. given that a boat was plan b) in the whole 'i'm moving somewhere affordable, which translates to not here' schematic, i can entertain the option of doing so in spring, 'aught seven. plus i'm not doing anything to make enough money to fulfill plan a) which was actually save some up.

i'm just sayin'

is it me, or can i not feel my fingers? stupid december.