gayballs

I SO run Al-Queda now.

I might need to start looking for another job. This one's gone the way of a lot of other things-- to shit.
Yeah. Yesterday-- this entire week-- has been fucking bullshit.

Caterpillar and Kelly Tractor had made for what was once my favorite job. And that's over now. Because of me, because of them, because of life. But mostly because of me, getting away with what I can.
According to my boss I'm 'smug' and I 'drag' myself in whenever I please.

But fuck it. Fuck them. They can deep-throat the shaft on which they dangle.

I finished a book yesterday.


It was a goddamn good book, too. Best part is how I heard about it. Fucking Ed Brubaker (writer of Daredevil, Criminal, Uncanny X-Men, etc) posted a myspace bulletin saying "CHECK OUT THIS BOOK!" So I did, expecting some pulpy noir shit because it's all I've been about lately. But it wasn't, at all. It was like a more fucked up version of The Outsiders, the book I called my favorite for many years (til I read The Godfather). If you loved The Outsiders, read this fucking book. Simple, fun, violent, teenagers, drugs, mohawks, bikes.

My girlfriend checked it out from her store and brought it home immediately.

I'm on my second cup of coffee. The lady-friend and I were supposed to have breakfast but she's a sleepyhead. So I had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich stuffed with cereal and I've been reading a book called Fade to Blonde by Max Phillips.
It came from a basket I received yesterday as a birthday gift. Check it:




Fucking packed with Hard Case Crime novels, a couple of graphic novels/art books, and the Criterion Collection Yojimbo/Sanjuro box set!
WOooooOOOoooOOOoOOoOOoo OOoOOoOO for gifts! and reading! And samurai remakes of old spghetti westerns!