meximick's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I'm a Ramblin' Kind of Guy What's on my mind: dying. Not now. I'm not taking my pulse or praying, but I think about dying a stupid death. Like something heavy falling on me. Maybe a vending machine. See, that's such a stupid way to die. Everyone's final thought of you is likely, "Man that is so tragic. But what a candy-hoarding moron!" And that doesn't sit right with me. I also don't want anthrax. Actually, I watched a PBS special on biological weapons, and now I'm freaked out about smallpox. Everyone thought that this disease, one that has wiped out millions of people all over the world over the last hundreds of years, was extinct. Didn't exist. Nope! Someone (we're not sure who, exactly) has it! People (bad people) can buy it! And can apparently make tons more with a simple laboratory! And then put it in your Yoo Hoo! Those fuckers! Is nothing sacred?! I've been staying at the girl's place for the last few weeks, going home in the AM to shower and such. This is causing strife with the other roommate (and it's funny I automatically referred to her as such, though before, I would without hesitation refer to her as 'my friend'). I'm apparently there too much. So I will go home again. Up yours, Thomas Wolfe. Oh, so my office is packing up to move to the new company's building WHICH IS EVEN CLOSER TO THE SEARS TOWER! I'm not impressed. 3:27 p.m. - 2001-11-14 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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