. . .

Dum DUM dee da doop

I'm feeling particularly meaningless this evening. I think it has to do with the whole negaccomplishment thing. You know, not yet having built an immense laser to carve my name into the surface of the moon. That sort of thing. I'd probably need to pay my electrical bill before they'd let me do that.

In a rare closeup, we at IBC News brings you this rare footage of the wild Alloni in his natural habitat. Watch his lynx-like beauty as he slowly stalks his prey. At ust the right range, he pauses, gathers himself... then pounces! And it's a hit! A right to the jaw, followed by a left to the knucklebones, than an uppercut to the solar plexus! That's gotta hurt. We hurridly zoom in on his enemy's reaction. "Ow!"

It's late. Technically, I suppose it's early. 4:11am, according to my computer, but since I don't trust my computer with the time of day, I suppose that's an equally meaningless statement. Not too far from there. It's that time of night day morning that everything I write sounds brilliant and magical and I forget the rules of the english language entirely so I start making mistakes due to that as opposed to my brilliant disregard for law and order. Forgotten how to spell "mustn't" or "musten't" or something. Brain functions depleted. I'm going to read this tomorrow morning and wonder what I was thinking to write such gibberish. Better than not writing gibberish, I suppose.

Anyone here who can tell the difference between menow and meotherwise? Anyone? That's kind of what I thought.

Survey: How many of you here can flip your tongue upsidedown? I'm questioning whether it's a rare talent that I can prostitute for large sums of money or not. All talents can be prostituted. Prositution = happiness. Remember that.

I need a lecture. A lecture from god. I'll open a fortune cookie, and it'll be a personalized message telling me to get my act together. It'll name me by name. That's "Alloni", in case you've forgotten. "Alloni," it'll say, "stop fucking around and get to work." And then god and I will have an involved conversation via this methodology, and I'll have to order plenty of leftovers to get enough cookies. Maybe head down to the chinese market and get myself a sack o' cookies. Yes. God cookies. Sacramental wafer fortune cookies. With messages Direct From God To You! Now sold in stores!

All right. I can tell that my rambling isn't going to turn into genius tonight, so I'll turn in. Have fun. I'll send you email again. Don't cry. It's all right. You can stand the wait somehow.