tomorrow comes today

am i reading this calendar right? it took four days for my netflix to get back to the return center. that’s some serious lag, my friend. they were delivered to me in only one day. but a four day return trip could really cut into my frantic viewing habits, my friend. you’re my friend, my friend. maybe it was because of the weekend. maybe saturday doesn’t even count, making it only three days instead of four, my friend. i think i have too much time on my hands. i’m watching you, netflix, if that really is your name.

the pilot of commander in chief was pretty spiffy. you can just tell donald sutherland is going to be sabotaging geena davis every chance he gets. i just know it. earth girls are easy. the only thing i didn’t like was the whole “first man-lady” deal. it’s an odd situation, i get that, but does it need to feel like forced comedy? i guess they think they need to lighten the mood or something. i say just keep it fast, keep it heavy. don’t give anyone a chance to breathe. that’s what good television is all about. beautiful asphyxiation. has anyone seen my oxygen tank?

karma police, arrest this man. his name is earl. jason lee is a funny unkempt rascal. he’s got the quirk. he’s got the vibrance. i hope earl makes it through his list before they cancel the show.

and then there’s the americanized office. good ol’ steve-o never disappoints when he’s putting his bike in your trunk. “that’s what she said.” <– one of my favorites. classic.

well, i’m still bloated from some great pizza i had three hours ago. magpie’s gourmet pizza is the name and if they had a deep dish crust, i might seriously have considered making them my favorite pizza of all time. they’re still pretty damn good. when i walked into the place, i had this feeling like i was home… in hell, that is. behind the counter, it looked nearly identical to hell’s pizza. even the beefy out-of-uniform guy working the ovens had a slight resemblance to the former district manager man of hell’s pizza. if you’re reading this, former district manager man (and i know you are), you should be happy knowing that your evil step-twin is alive and well in the dry dry desert. it’s funny… i left the monotony and boredom of hell only to end up in the blistering heat of hell. the irony is rather amusing.

even more amusing was seeing the sign in the window that said “now accepting applications.” at least i can sleep well, knowing that if my first job choices don’t pan out, i could probably be a magpie delivery driver. my career is calling my name. maybe i should just do the world a favor and find some rope and a cactus arm that can support 182 pounds. but then who would blog for me? who would play with words and throw their pants to the wind?

a friend of mine once asked me: how do you keep from going insane without doing any drugs? all i could tell him was that i didn’t know. i just do what i do and the craziness doesn’t grab ahold for some reason. maybe my brain makes it’s own drugs. maybe i’ve found ways to deal with my hopelessness, and it just doesn’t bother me anymore. i told him then, and i would tell him again now, i don’t know. all i know is that i like being drug free. i like keeping poisons out of my body. i tried drinking alcohol again last week and it made my stomach hurt. i put the rest of it back in the fridge. i finished it a couple days later, but i didn’t enjoy it. i’m thinking i should just tell people i’m a recovering alcoholic. it wouldn’t be a lie really. i mean, i could very easily become an alcoholic. i should say i’m a preemptive recovering alcoholic. they only have to be right once, we have to be right all the time. ya know? of course, if i went to great lengths to fabricate knowing every step in the 12 step program and claiming that scott stapp was my sponser, i would then be lying my ass off.