Thursday, March 09, 2006

mr. spider plant is ill

I will be making enough money this summer to hopefully start my own publication in the fall. I can certainly write for two magazines, especially two that are so different from each other. Maybe I'm ready for it. Or maybe I'll do one issue, realize I don't have enough time for this, and call it quits. Damn. There's just no way of telling. Either way, I hope somebody reads it.
I was also thinking that since I go to so many shows, maybe I should start making my own tee shirts and then trick people into buying them. Or something. I would need a printer and a bunch of those transfer thingies. And the goddamn shirts. I might be too lazy to do this, too.
Inattentive drivers busy talking on phones spotted today: 4 (one was a woman driving the opposite direction down a one way street)
Some chick commented on one of my posts, but her comment was a generic message telling me to go visit her blog. To people who do that kind of shit: fuck you. Who the hell is so self-centered that they must write a message basically telling me, "My blog is so interesting that I have to make sure everyone reads it; thus, I cannot waste time trying to compose a witty yet appreciative paragraph about what you have written, as I must spread the tales of my life as a park ranger throughout the world. Updated daily!"
In closing, does anyone need any freelance? Please?


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  2. Wow! I can get a college degree in two weeks? And here I've spent two and a half years to far in school. Boy, do I feel sheepish.

  3. The photo is a lot like the way my sister and I won the 'originality' slot when I was 10, in a local Halo'ueen costume contest. Just the same basic effect with plaster 'o' paris arms and lower legs and cheap aluminum spray paint over all of it. The prize was a trinket someone in a local store couldn't sell.

    The way you worry that you're too lazy to print up and sell the t-shirts reminds me of me. Oh, well, I'm a former Iowan. I didn't learn marketing and merchandising for corn, beef; hogs and soybeans. Food sales used to be more or less guaranteed by the thing called hunger. Moving to Nebraska hasn't helped, and I'm still depressed, though I have had more time to write down the specifics of all the crimes small and large that life and living it has dealt me thus far. But it's still not in its finished form after 4 and 1/2 years.
    Melanie is a beautiful name, and pleased to make your online acquaintance. Mine's Paul.