HEADLINE: MAN GOES MAD FROM LACK OF CIVILIZATION, RAMPAGES ABOUT HOME IN UNDERWEAR, SICKY DESPERATION

For the last four days I've been aiming to get out of town and go to Salt Lake City to see my friends Jeremy and (his boyfriend and nicest-boy-in-world) Wilson. I've been sitting in Star Valley for several months(!!!) now, where my routine is as follows:

1 – Wake up.
2 – Read Internet Things.
3 – Put off feeding the animals (yes. Animals. As in farm animals. How the fuck did I end up here?).
4 – Feed the animals.
5 – Read Internet Things.
6 – Sleep.

Of course, I get my fair share of Francine Fink play and the downloading and consideration of music, but that's not really a replacement for the social life I had in Laramie, nor does it scratch the 'collector's itch' that I seem to have built in.

At any rate, it leaves me in the depraved mood where I wander through my house in my underwear and smoke a lot more than I should. I've been mail-ordering like a mother-fucker lately, including but not limited to: Joey (from A Softer World)'s novel, a lot of Saddle Creek/Team Love: The Two Gallants 7”, the live Bright Eyes disc, The Katrina Relief disc, both Jenny Lewis pre-orders, and (I'm not shitting) one of these.

I can't get to a place where I can just pick things up. Laramie was heaven compared to Star Valley—on new music day (Tuesday), I could go browse. I used to bitch about not having a comic store in Laramie. Now I realize that there isn't a video place that has rentals for more than one night (!) (in fact, they're closed on Sunday and also feature the Mormon-friendly 'Clean Flick' option, thus rendering many films meaningless) or a 24-hour convenience store (!!). It's like living in the middle-ages. With the internet.

Save me: tell God to stop snowing or Derek to blow of responsibilities. Or order me a bunch of things and have them shipped to me. So. Bored.

Costly Orgasm

I'm not sure about you, but I don't think anyone needs to drop up to $450 on a toy. Or $1500, either.

Not a toy that doesn't have a cartoon tie-in, anyway.

Fleshbot delivers odd goods

I've been looking over the recent posts over at Fleshbot, and I found this, as well as accompanying links. Go check out the Fleshbot.

Just one of the many (read: tons) of blogs I've been checking out thanks to my Bloglines account. I can't get over how handy the damn thing is, especially in linking me to some of the most bizarre corners of the internet.

Fuck them

U.S. Today's top ten books of 2005 is shameful.

Harry Potter? May I remind you people that '05 saw the release of Ellis' new book, a new Gaiman (which, honestly, I haven't read but assume must be more engaging than Potter), not to mention Black Hole.

I hate them.

Speaking of bad writing,

I just found the first story I ever wrote. I'm surprised I didn't get kicked out of school for it.

Written in fifth grade (when, I think, I had just started reading Stephen King novels), it's set in my old grade school, Holdaway Elementary. Featuring my fifth grade class and (of course) some pretty mean monsters/aliens and a few vampires (my then girlfriend, June, is turned into a vampire by the fourth page), this is the sort of stuff that kids get sent home for now—this and fingernail clippers.

It even mentions Apple II/e's, which were the computers my school district taught us how to type on; ancient relics with green-screens that had text burned into them.