Boycott Monday

That's today's theme. Boycott Monday.
I'm bored. I'm just sitting here, waiting for rates to come in. Bored. But what else is new.
I don't have much to write about, so I'm just typing here, really only attempting to make sure words are spelled correctly and make good grammatical sense. I'm not too worried about coherent thought, as it is my belief that if you are still reading you must be just as bored, or in need of a distraction as I am while I'm typing. If you were looking for coherence, quality, or imagination you'd be reading the freep or something. Well, maybe not if you wanted imagination, I could probably cover that. My imagination works all the time. I spent an entire afternoon thinking about turning office supplies into toys for kids. They'd be military toys, based on a line that I used to play with back when I was like seven or something. These toys were everyday objects that transformed into missles or command stations or tanks or something, my favorite was my watch. It was about the size of my head, and it was camoflauge, and when you pressed the big red button on the side the top flipped open and there was a command station inside with little guys, and there was a propellor that you could wind and then release and it would fly like ten feet in the air straight up. It was awesome. Anyway, I spent that afternoon thinking about how the stapler might open up to reveal a groun-to-air missle and how the phone would undoubtedly be a tank, and that the keyboard would probably turn into some sort of airplane. But here I am, off on a tangent, I meant to talk about how my often working imagination was working, as if often does, last night as I was trying to get to sleep, and came up with a synopsis for an episode of futurama the details of which I will not reveal because I don't want you stealing my idea and making tons of money after submitting it to fox and then beign hired as a writer for one of their shows. I'd much rather it be me hired to write for futurama or the simpsons, and man you can bet I'd do my damdest to revamp that show. Here I am, off on another tangent, I'll try to stick to the point, which as far as I can remember, I can't remember. Which is another problem. Hey, I know my memory isn't the greatest thing ever, I've written about that every now and again, or maybe just once I can't recall, and sometimes I even celebrate my poor memory. But there was a time, once, when my memory was up to snuff, cut the mustard, etc. And that was back in school. Out here, in the real world, I don't have anything I need to remember. Nothing. Not that there was much I needed to remember in school either, mostly the learning I did was passive and happened unbeknownst to me. (For example, junior year of high school we had the coolest spanish teacher this side of Spain, he spent the entire year telling stories about his days in the army, his days as an international exporter, and one really really great story about flying over the rocky mountains and the turbulence that almost crashed the plane, which happened to be full of nuns. No learning of spanish at anytime. The next year, new teacher, first day she hands out a quiz. "I'm going to quiz you on the subjunctive tense, which is what you focussed on last year." While I'm thinking, "What? We didn't learn anything, I'm going to fail the first quiz of they year." But I didn't, I scored 100% on that quiz, because aparently we did learn the subjunctive tense, and I was happily unaware the whole time.) But what is there for me to remember now? Nothing. Get up, go to work, come home. I don't even have to remember to set my alarm because it does that on its own. I've never been good with dates, and now I'm worse; I haven't thought about what today's date is in something like three months. I haven't had the need. I spend my days doodling on post-it notes and scrap paper, I cruise around online and read journals, or look up song lyrics I can't remember, and promptly forget, and, when there aren't any new blog entries, any exciting links, any more pictures of big-eyed kids in new suits coming to work for the first time to draw, I write a little in my web log here, or as is today's case, I write a lot. If you've made it this far I congratulate you, and sympathize with your need for distraction. desire for action, or want of meaningful interaction.


peace out dudes
-tom

recommended downloads-
Don Hertzfeldt animations: Billy's Balloon, Rejected, and, L'Amour