I hate my job. It’s probably not healthy how much I hate my job. I have the same constant dull headache and sensitivity to light that bothered me all through school, but at least there were some things about school that I liked. I hate my job. And I don’t get Summer off anymore.

I want to quit, but then I’d have to start some other job where I’m not paid as much. And loathe though I am to spend a life for no reason beyond acquiring wealth, that seems to be how this society wants me to go about this.

But I can say that a certain local newspaper is lucky I’m not half the pyromaniac the congregation of St. Andrews Catholic Church believed me to be when I was a child.

I propose that some Hollywood studio should make a computer animated movie about animals that go on some manner of adventure. It’s too good an idea to fail! Now, I shall accept some small fraction of the profits made by any such movies, but I’ll let the filmmakers keep the rest. Bring it on!

I’ve got another long night of work ahead of me now and humanity shall gain nothing from my doing it. Sigh… Why do I even wake up anymore?

Haiku!

Clocks can time-travel,
When they are used correctly.
So can sundials.

If a doctor can cure a disease, why can’t a boxer cure a bisease? I demand a satisfactory answer.

I am now holding the concept of “irony” as a hostage. I want four million dollars for its safe return. If you do not meet my demands in exactly one month, I will be forced to do insane amounts of damage to it. Trust me, you don’t want that.

Anyway, I’m off to work again. I wasted the pre-work hours talking about comics with Marq and accomplishing little. At least I got to talk about comics… Still… I hate my job.

Meanwhile, if I don’t get my new computer running after I get paid this week, I want someone to shoot me in the leg. For serious.

There is only truly one reason to be an astronaut. Space is well beyond International Borders, so gambling is way legal. You could totally play craps all night! Except there would be no literal night, just a time period when you’re way tired.

This, I believe, is why NASA should start sending up crews with astronauts from nations that are currently enemies to NASA’s country. They could then gamble against the enemy crews and, assuming they win, bankrupt the enemy space programs. It’s so devious it must work.

I went to the Arcade in Mic Mac Mall the other day and it turns out they no longer have their Asteroids machine. Last time I saw it I was still the number one in the hi-scores, so I’ll just assume that I still was when they got rid of it.

Also, I played at the claw machine and I hooked a little stuffed E.T., but when the hook dropped it, it missed the hole. I had to break a ten dollar bill into quarters to try again, then I got it. Hooray.