cheech

My ex- was depressed last night, so I didn't really wanna take a lotta time to write a journal cuz I thought she might call to talk...we had talked about talking earlier, you see...but she left work early to pick up her little brother and they hung out, which was probably the best thing for her, as he's a great kid and they get along like gangbusters. She also talked to another online friend and got in some early sleep, also beneficial for those depressing days.

...so while I didn't journal, some of you might've seen my late-night wiseassery in posts, and hey I POSTED FROM WORK too, ealier in the day!
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Finally found the right spelling! How many years have I been reading about this guy? Twenty-something or other...but here it is, straight from Muammar's mouth -- Qathafi. Yep, nobody ever got it right. Time. Newsweek. The White House. All wrong.
I saw an interview with Qathafi in this book on Carlos the Jackal...oh, his real name? Ilich Ramirez Sanchez. This book's author was trying to trace Carlos. Eventually, he landed an interview with Qathafi in Tripoli...right in his office, sat down and talked. It was a fascinating little interview. I'd type it in here, it's only 6 pages or so, but...ahh, I don't think anybody reads my long political journal stuff.
Which is fair enough. You want the personal dirt. Well...there isn't much dirt to dish. I've been emailing my ex-. I got the new Yo La Tengo (due to that great concert). I'm checking out Freak Out by Zappa again, just to see if I think it REALLY sucks (a couple of the poppier/doo-wop songs work, actually). I was working. No-dirt-dishing day again....