The organist at St. Mark's is an instrument of mass destruction. Sheesh.

T.S. Eliot's The Waste Land, reduced to 5% by Microsoft Word's AutoSummarise feature:

Dull roots with spring rain.
Son of man,
The Hanged Man. Fear death by water.
Unreal City,
'You!
Speak.
Where the dead men lost their bones.
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
HURRY UP PLEASE IT'S TIME
Goonight.
Goonight. Goonight.
Good night, ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.
The wind
Twit twit twit
Jug jug jug jug jug jug
Unreal City
Red sails
Beating oars
Southwest wind
White towers
la la
Burning burning burning burning
IV. DEATH BY WATER
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
If there were only water amongst the rock
If there were water
And no rock
If there were rock
And also water
And water
If there were the sound of water only
Drip drop drip drop drop drop drop
Falling towers
Bringing rain
Shantih shantih shantih

At the video store: Jerry Springer tried to cut in front of us when Mrs. McCloskey and I were waiting to pay for our movies. Read all about it here: http://www.mehead.com

(Actually, you can't read all about it there any more. It wasn't archived. But you should still visit MeHead. Funny people. Funny, funny people.)

At the post office: woman wearing a great hat and a man who looked like Matt Groening, only with gray hair.

Today’s horoscope: “I wouldn’t make any plans for tomorrow if I were you.”

5:05-6:45pm: had a nap.

Should I eat that orange now? Maybe I'll wait until after dinner.

At the store: Chocolate Grahams - two boxes for $4. Same deal on the Flaky Flix. These are the golden years.

5:00-5:40pm: had a nap.

Number of guitars I have owned in my life: 6

It's that song again.

That episode of the Simpsons the other night, the one in which all the characters were turned into animals: that was disturbing.

4:55-5:25pm: had a nap.

On my way to the bank: man in a van asks me how to get to Highway 1. Straight ahead, past the library and turn left, then straight ahead about a mile.

Replaced the lightbulb in the bathroom.

The first (and, so far, only) cut-up poem I ever wrote:

My girlfriend had her parents stretched
Into a tall, swarthy, plastic
Eyeball -
For kicks.

The problem is that you can't just buy a bag of apple flavour Jolly Rancher lollipops. You have to get a bag with all different flavours, which is a waste, because then I would only eat the apple ones. They really should sell bags with just the apple ones. The one I was sucking earlier, I got it at a job interview.

2:30-4:15pm: had a nap.

Seen while walking to and from the library: one ambulance, one fire engine, two crows, one dog (tied to the library door), one old guy with a walking stick and a "Make 7 Up Yours" teeshirt, one toilet filled with plants in somebody's garden. And that gray cat from downstairs.

Currently sucking: Jolly Rancher lollipop (apple)

An email I received: "For someone who has never pushed a wheelbarrow you sure nap a lot."

In the alley behind the building: four crows, a man throwing what looks like a drumskin into the garbage.