Time: 7:48 p.m.
BLAAAAghhghh. my life is HELL. basically. I detailed the hell that it is over on that other page so read it before proceeding, yeahyeah.
but yeah there is always other news, is there not? on the other page I mention borcht. you know why I cooked borcht? I'll tell you. not becuz it's cheap (15 bucks worth of veggies/meat = 6 heaping servings of rubine chunky goodness that keeps well in the fridge) or fabulously colored (those beets, man, geez, don't get that shit on your new white spats, ok?) or fucking delicious in general, nono. I cooked borcht for the sole purpose of impressing this girl Heidi.
she's the recipient of the fettucine alfredo and the pie, as well, and ex post borscht facto I think I can safely say she's impressed with my culinary skillzzZz. of course, she had to leave early (again) that night, and really at this point I'm not hopeful at all about all this shit, I seem to be just grandiosely shitty when it comes to talking with girls, or rather that's not true at all, I can really talk it up with girls but somehow I invariably embed 'best friends' type semiotic codes into all that I speak, as opposed to the crucial and apparently elusive 'you know I really would like to jump all over you right this minute' semiotics. it's a serious problem en extremis. it's like when I play chess: I always get my ass creamed in chess cuz I make the dumbest mistakes you could possibly commit but then when I'm watching two other people play I have the uncanny yet useless capacity to go all 'big blue' on the situation and extrapolate beautiful solutions to the game effortlessly. I just don't know. not like girls are like chess, cuz they're not really, I mean. actually I don't know, maybe they sorta are like chess, except chess involves no sexual relations that I'm aware of.
whatever ok let's change the subject. yes.
anyway so yeah. Heidi. funny name isn't it? I think so. she's pretty cool but yeah at this point I'm really ready to throw in the towel. my fucking life is pretty horrendous anyway (as you'll know if you read the tangram entry linked above like I told you) so that's just some icing on the cake really.
one thing that's noteworthy is that while she was over here she was looking at Z's bookshelf and saw that she, Z, had a ridiculous tome filled with reproductions of early 20th-century pornographic comics. they're mostly parodies of well-known comics bastions like Dick Tracy, etc, and there's one especially disconcerting one where Donald Duck does Minnie Mouse from behind, and further on Mickey himself is shown with a dick hanging out of his pants, like right between those two big iconic buttons. that shit really makes your head spin now doesn't it.
goddamn I'm fucking hungry. I have no food tho. you should mail me food. contact me and tell me you want to mail me food, ok? I'll send you a lovely thank-you note if you do. then everybody's happy.
anyway yeah today was a marginally good day cuz my pal and fellow rap foundation member Wendell was in town and he'd never been to central park, and I've only been like twice so we walked all over that bitch, and it was trancendantly beautiful cuz of the fall foliage and crisp magic late-afternoon autumn light. also he bought me food which as I mentioned above is a really teriffec way to improve my life, and YOURS! yeah.
anyway yeah word life. there you have it. now I'm going to go eat pistachios. the only food I have left is this 10lb bag of pistachios I found in Z's living room. no one was eating them so they're mine, and they're all I've got, you can't take that away from me. no sir.