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Over the last couple of days I finally finished up Philip Gourevitch's "We Wish To Inform You That Tomorrow We Will Be Killed With Our Families: Stories From Rwanda". As to my verdict: a great book, one I would recommend to anyone interested in foreign affairs, Africa, or is just into reading about fucked-up shit. Its a horrifying story, one told vividly and eloquently by...
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Sometimes I miss taking the bus.

The buses in Phoenix aren't mass transit vehicles as much as they are asylums on wheels. Without fail, every time I was on the bus, I was on the bus where the crazy people were grouped en masse. Granted, anyone who has ridden one bus in the Valley can tell you that there are some batshit crazy folk on...
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VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
emperor_norton:
Ahhh... the staggering varietiy of bus aromas.

Essence Of Old Man Piss.
L'Eau d'Toilet Paper.
Old Spice Construction Worker Delight (Paint, Dirt, And Sweat, Together At Last!)
New "I've Got A Surprise In My Pants... And Its Squishy!!!" Spray Deoderant

Prolonged traveling on the bus convinced me that if I ever had the ability to time travel, I would turn it down. Why? Simple: if the present smells this fucking bad, I don't even want to know the kind of unsightly smells waiting for me in the past.
not_a_sicko:
Funny stuff.

I noticed you have returned, just thought I'd drop by and say hi.

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My original plan for this evening's post was something a bit more lengthy, comical, and acidic in content. However, a bad case of the go-to-sleeps is kicking my ass at the moment, so this will be a whole lot briefer.

Right now, I'm spending the night at my dad's home in Anthem, a town which never fails to unsettle me. For those who don't know:...
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I know I shouldn't revel in the misfortune of others, but a part of me just can't help it.

At the bookstore, we have started developing our own vernacular. Most of it is acronyms designed so we can communicate with each other without upsetting the fragile sensibilities of our clientele. Some of the choice phrases include:

-D.B: short for douchebag. Douchebag has become the standard...
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flux:
A Sagittarian named after my "Hero."

I like you already.

Check out Kooks and Strange Creations by Donna Kossy. I've read nearly the entire FH catalog, and those two are my all-time favorites.
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Working full-time at a bookstore, I've picked up my fair share of literary guilty pleasures. Chief among these pleasures is my fascination with chick lit. Every time I shelve fiction and I stumble on a "chick lit" book, I have to look at the cover and read the plot synopsis. My studies in the young field of Chick-Lit-Package-Ology have led me to a purely scientific...
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Here is what I meant to write last night in regards to A Scanner Darkly, prior to falling into a buzzkilling funk.

I said it before, and I'll say it again: A Scanner Darkly is the best film adaptation of a P.K. Dick book ever. Bladerunner was a great movie, but took more than a few liberties with the source material (I don't consider it...
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Saw A Scanner Darkly tonight. Outstanding film, probably the most successful film adaptation of Dick's books (Bladerunner was a great, great film, but was radically different in comparison to its original source material).

The problem with viewing a great film is that it always leaves me in a bit of a melancholy mood. A part of it may just be jealousy, the thoughts in my...
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VIEW 3 of 3 COMMENTS
noirkiss3:
I trust your opinion, I was on te fence but now I'll go see it.
you owe me if I don't like it though biggrin
emperor_norton:
pmonkey: I can understand your not feeling Dick's films. Hollywood has its head up its ass in regards to PKD's books (who honestly thought that Ben Affleck or Arnold Scwartznegger would be good choices to play Dick protagonists? They could play dicks, but they couldn't play Dick, that's for damn sure). As for Paxil: I shy away from medication. I used to take Lamictal (I have a mild case of bipolar), but found that it levelled me out a little too well (less depressed, but it also eliminated all the euphoric highs I'd get through my bipolar). These brief bouts of pity-mes are just the price I pay for occasionally feeling ecstatic for no good reason.

noirkiss: thanks for your trust. My opinion, rather than meaning squat, has jumped up a couple of ranks. In the event that the film is a disastrous film experience for you, I will cheerfully Fed-Ex you 1 Chocolate Chip cookie. If the cookie is not on oven-fresh on arrival, that ain't my problem.
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Personal merde: my brother Greg is a bit sick, my mother is still completely batshit crazy, and as each day passes, the realization that I need more money is becoming harder and harder to ignore. Lots of it, oodles and oodles of cash, maybe some euros and gold coins thrown in for good measure. Perhaps its time to bite the bullet and look for...
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