Take that, you bastard!
It seems to me this is my sister’s birthday. I can’t say for sure. I grew up without committing birthdates to memory because I grew up in a family of Jehovah’s Witnesses, and they don’t celebrate birthdays. There is a reason for this: the Bible mentions only two birthday parties and at both parties something bad happened. One of them was the beheading of John the Baptist. And it wasn't even his birthday party ! Oops! They told us this was God’s way of telling us not to celebrate birthdays. Thanks, John the Baptist! Oh well; at least he didn’t die in vain. Thanks to his sacrifice, millions of little kids have been spared the evils of birthday parties.
I don’t remember what the other one was.
It’s raining, which means I feel like laying around all day. Maybe I will. I can’t think of anything overly pressing I need to do today, except maybe eat. At some point, I’ll probably need to pee. NFL playoffs are coming on later, I guess I’ll watch those.
You know what? Sometimes I want to pound my fists up and down on the keyboard until it smashes through the desk and onto the floor below, and then I want to stomp the fucking thing into a pile of splintered keys and cracked plastic. Take that, you bastard! It can be a new method of communication, and they’ll teach it to kids in high school, preparing them to join the high-tech work force of the Information Age.
I know what I can do today: watch ‘Last Temptation of Christ’. Actually, I’ve already seen it a few times, but I want to listen to the Director’s Commentary. Good old Martin Scorsese. I guess he’s my favorite. But he always talks too fast and his commentaries tend to get wrapped up in irrelevancies; at least it seems that way to me. I’m sure that in his mind, everything he says has some point and merit. I guess I’m glad he’s the way he is, that way I can watch his movies. At least he’s doing something productive with his rambling and unfocused mind. All I’m doing with mine is smashing it against the keyboard and posting the results online, like some half-assed Henry Miller.