National State of Alert:
(as of 3-8-04)

Personal State of Alert:
(as of 3-8-04)

Reason for Personal State of Alert:
- So this is post-college life? Really? *shivers*

- The Passion of Christ featured a deleted scene where Christ called me out and told me "You're next"

Featured Links:
Diaryland.com
OnlineOnslaught.com
MSNBC.com
QuietAmerican.org
MoneyCentral.msn.com
Tremble.com
Weezer.com
Fool.com
GirlsArePretty.com

joelthecat.diaryland.com

**** Tales
2002-04-20 - 12:47 a.m.

"Damn it feels good to be a gangsta!" - that song from Office Space

I got a bandana in the mail from Malboro. Apparently they send you presents on your birthday, as a congratulations that you're still alive. It was meant for a girl who used to live at my apartment, apparently, but now it's mine, and I'm exploring my gangster side in the comfort of my own home. Check me out:

"Damn yo!"

"Word!"

"Mira vato! Busca mi nombre en los paginas amarillo! Sheeeiiit!"

Damn I'm smooth. Anyway... life's been not bad. I've been enjoying my recurring dreams of the Undertaker visiting me at my house and him kicking my ass or trying to make my life miserable in some way... and for some reason, even in the dream, I enjoy this. Ever since the WWF 'dead man' got his haircut, the dude, who for some reason, my whole life I've felt like I've known, personally, has decided to carry his dickish persona into my dreamself's personal life. Last night in my dream, he barged into my room when I unlocked it and decided to relieve himself on one of my chairs, just to be an asshole. I found it weird, and I was kinda mad, but I was also cool with it cuz it wasn't really my chair. He also left me this dead baby doll that was held together by stitches that had a note attached that was threatening and was signed "Psycho." This didn't disturb me, instead, it turned into kind of a lucid dream, and I was regretting I had to wake up and leave the doll behind. It brought me comfort. I really need to stop transcribing my dreams.

Today, I experienced FOUR modes of transportation in one day, and I went through three different shirts too. Granted, this may not be THAT fascinating for some of you... but when I walk, rollerblade, bike, and ride in a car in one day... I call that momentuous. Today... today was HUGE!

Shasta, one of my local chick friends (and I suppose the closest I have to a "fag hag") introduced me to her mom over dinner. The three of us and another female friend, who's name I won't attempt to spell, went to the Sixpence Pub, where I've never been before, and then to the Riverhouse Grill for desserts... I had a salad, and a water for dessert. For some reason, I just couldn't bring myself to eat stuff today... this is good. Weight loss is good. Regardless of my appetiteness, the sex afterward was fantastic, and more than whet my appetite for the day. You've never experienced sex until you've done it while on the porch of a fine eatery.

Sorry. I sensed myself getting tedious so I started making shit up.

Life, life is good. I don't know about that whole future thing, but I'm liking the whole "present" thing. I don't even mean the get-at-your-birthday kind. I mean the... you know what I mean. There's just so much shit that could happen to you in one day...

"Beautiful... day" - U2

...

...

"Racecars, lasers, airplanes, it's a... duck blur!" -Duck Tales

Reason for Terror # 82:

Using phrase "da bomb" unwittingly in phone tapped conversations could lead to arrest and beatings by the FBI, local authorities, and hip police.

Reason for Terror # 81:

There was a little bit of mold on that bread you had this morning.

Reason for Terror # 80:

When evening falls, you can try to drive away; but the moon will be following... always following...