12~10~99
What was it that woke me up?  This is a game I play here in L.A.  Was it a dog barking or a woman in hysterics laughing uncontrollably.  It was one or the other.  The sounds came from a singular source, thus it was not both in chorus.  Whatever it was, now I'm awake having completed the very domesticated tasks of making oatmeal and coffee.  What is it that my life has become?  I'm sitting in front of a computer writing about oatmeal and coffee and the preparation of.  Who the hell cares?  I certainly don't give two squirts in the dark about it.  Do I give one?  No, never once has oatmeal or coffee brought to me any excitement let alone arousal.  But...if you think about it.  A nice flower vase full of warm, fresh off the stove oatmeal could provide just the right...."Hey, somebody's been sticking their dick in my porridge!"  "Somebody's also been sticking their dick in my porridge!"  "Somebody stuck their dick in my porridge and found it to be just right."

Would Hemmingway have written about fucking oatmeal in a vase if he had had access to the internet and been allowed to blither about whatever he wanted for as long as he wanted without the slightest bonds of censorship?
Maybe clam chowder.

Nine days and counting until I reenter the work force of America.  I'd really rather not.  People say they go nuts with boredom without a job.  These are some boring people.  I've been busy as ever without a spare moment or a moment to spare.  I have no time for this "working for money" way of life.  Can't the world let me do the work I want to do?  I'm writing my damn stories.  Doing the damn web column.  Somebody give me money so this way of life doesn't come grinding to a dead halt.  I do mean "dead" when I say "dead."  My alternative lifestyle is running the risk of breathing its last breath.  Flashing its last grin. Writing its last word.  Fucking its last oat.  There must be some sort of disability pay for scribblomaniacal oatophiles with broad poetic license.  Mustn't there?  No, there most likely isn't.  Let's coddle blind lesbian cripples with down syndrome by giving them all sorts of government aid and not give a penny to healthy men like me who just happen to not want to work.  I should be applauded and showered in cash, for I am making a decision.  The government gives all kinds of money to people who are physically incapable of work, but show them that you have in mind to make the choice not to work and they won't give you a cent.  Hell, they'll even blame you for it!
Fascists.  
They don't want to give anyone the right to choose.  First they take away your right to live a life of luxury without having to work and the next thing you know they're slipping by laws that ban abortion and euthanasia.  The pattern is elementary.  Let this happen and we all become prisoners, unable to choose anything for ourselves.  Eventually we'll need to be told when to go to the bathroom and when to eat or we'll piss ourselves and starve to death from lack of fortification in our decision making processes.  Are we to allow this?
Give me money.  Prevent a slave state.

Enough of this for today.  I don't have work to do.  Have a good weekend.

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