(no subject)

I am going to be in Miami for five days.

Friday morning to Tuesday morning.

What the hell am I going to do for those
five days? I won't have my own car, I'll have
next to no money. And I'll be with a bunch of
other people who are nowhere even close to my
age group.

I mean, there's the burial, yes. But, that's not
going to take FIVE DAYS.

I hope that hotel has a bar.

Found on alt.magick today

SINGLE WHITE MAGUS SEEKS FEMALE MAGUS LADY

please respond to my email.
must like politics, music, poetry and not hate man unless its not me
must like flowers and trees, like kissing and hugging and sports
not too fat ..be nice and sensitive..drink alcohol moderately if not much but
willing to try
must believe in that this world is very sucky and that she and I are both right
on what to do
must be hipocritical and some personal beliefs for I am the same way..I
actually should say contradictory thinking..hipocritical is too strong of a
word
and most important must love me and support me to be a better and happier
person. if your the one..email and we shall discuss marriage arraignments..
race is no issue nor age..and if you look like the Vulcan lady on star trek the
prequel..that will be very nice..I like alien women..they are usually very sexy
and beautiful..most humans would agree.

---------

I'm so fucking amused by this.
I'm a bad person.

...dooot....

Walking down the hallway today, on my way to
retrieve my full-to-groaning laundry basket,
I realise that my brother's bedroom door is open.

This isn't normal, he keeps the door shut because
he doesn't apprieciate the cats coming in and
puking up little kitty puke all over his clothing
and Playstation games (sidenote: heh heh fucking
heh).

But, the door's open and I peer around the corner
of the jamb to see what he's doing. There's no
sound, which is unusual. His light isn't on,
which is also unusual. Television, off. Stereo,
off. Everything.

I see sock clad feet and I peer a little further.
He's stretched out on his belly, just lying
there. Completely motionless.

This is the part where my lovely schizophrenic
paranoia performs fucking Riverdance inside
my skull.

...he'sdeadhe'sdeadhe'sdeadhe'sdead...

Two deaths in one week? It's not so unusual that
my poor addled little brain would immediately
equate this with dead-brother-lying-on-the-floor.

I creep closer to him, unable to see whether
or not he's actually breathing. I'm holding my
own breath and I think my heart has jumped up
to hang out with my tonsils. It's tight and
thick in my throat.

*gulp*

Two fingers to press against the side of his
neck, in search of a pulse.

This is the part where he turns his face and
looks right at me.

"errrr...Hi!" I say. "Just checking your pulse."