Unless the bug crawls up my spine tomorrow, this will probably be the final entry composed while at this infernal geek mine. One last horrible Saturday. Zero mourn. Spanky mourn levels dipping into negative figures. I will miss this place not.

Impending unemployment has, funny enough, splashed nutrients on my dehydrated libido. I haven't been this horny in over a year at least. My brain seems finally ready to share my body with others again. The bear no longer hibernates.

Regular use of jobby jobs promotes flaccidity. Four out of five dentists agree.

Deciding to finish the sketchbook reaction tryptic. Unlike the previous two, only trace residual Green Lantern powers surge through my alveoli. Straight monkey writing this time. It's like a Hieronymus Bosch altar piece, with the flanking segments of underworld insanity framing pleasant weirdness. Dat's right what I said.

Topper - that is a good name. Yo Top, waddup? I think Top would have a good outlook on life.

I'm gonna go beat the eggs. When I beat the eggs I usually like to be seated or in a reclined position. Was trying to come up with another term for twisting the weasel. An award show praising the innovators of masturbation terminology far more important than supposed achievments in appealing to the lowest common denominator to sell the most advertising space. Still, don't know if "beat the eggs" deserves to even be a contender.

West of the Mississppi. Never truly sunk in that I dwelled west of the Mississippi. I wasn't a boy idiot, I of course knew the geographic position of my residence in proximity to the river. It's a natural dividing line in a nation that loves dividing lines. Just never considered what the effects of living just west of the Mississippi had on my development.

She got her pipes cleaned. Yeah, um, another attempt at describing sexual acts in a clever euphemistic way. Alright alright, leave me alone, I don't have to be reminded of the banks of energy I waste on things.

Sometimes statements sound better when imitating savage pro wrassler types. "Oh yeah brother, you ain't going nowhere!" "I said super size my fries ya pipsqueak!" "Mister waiter man! I need you to show me the way to the john! Hoo yeah!"

Why don't we want peacemakers in all offices? Seems to me, the only way to break the shit cycle, relies on all the nation's peoples deciding that those in charge of their respective plots on the planet be genuine promoters of peace. Just a thought from a crazy ass white boy.

I think "I don't know" is the perfect answer to philosophy laden questions of "why are we here?". Doubtful we will survive to the point that our intelligence levels will evolve enough to understand our actual place in the universe. I think humanity is swamped in an answer fetish. What's wrong with admitting you don't know? Anyone who steps up and insists they have all the answers, especially ones parroted from outdated books written by two thousand year old men, get's the gas face from me.

Every campfire is a child of the sun. Extremely interesting four part series on PBS called "The Sacred Balance". Hosted by David Suzuki, a Canadian biologist. Admirably brave concept, reintroduced from the aboriginal societies around the globe, that we are the sky, sea and the earth. I recommend the program to all. That campfire statement is certainly corny to a cynic like me. But, the sun fed the trees of whose branches we burn to release that same stored solar energy. I am down for respecting the universe.

Man o'war to people o'war? Fuck you. Mankind to peoplekind? Fuck you. Manischewitz to Peoplischewitz? Fuck you. More bucking of politically correct soggy paper towel rationale.

On March 29th 2001, Bushie said ( spanky paraphrasing from housefly memory ) "putting caps on CO production and emissions for power plants and other industry would not be economically sound". So he booted us out of Kyoto. Glad to see the continuation of wiping assholes with dollar bills and tossing the crumpled up skidmarks into the environment. Baby Bush is giving parasitic corporations the best head ever.

Ah, sort of connected to the above political side speak. I think I will start referring to wiping my ass as "stabalising the region".

Heh, I just can't give it a rest. Georgie Bushy pie also has stated that Jesus got him into office. I was unaware that a Mexican justice was appointed to the Supreme Court.

People love duct tape. Mention duct tape and instantly they are compelled to tell you a story of duct tape. Adorations for duct tape abound. Proclaiming yourself to be a duct tape supporter will get you invited inside some fucking doors. I think I will start the Duct Tape Party. Anyone wanna register?