So I have been back and lazy for a while now from Miss Fegs' in Jersey, and I even went for a run, and am doing my amped-up lifting, almost aerobic in the number of reps. I have no desire to go back to school tomorrow, or at this point, ever. But I will, and I know that when I wake in the morning I will be refreshed and ready to go once more. It's just now, that gray period between the evening news and Iron Chef or King of the Hill which is so deadening.

Oh, for those of you watching, Joephet didn't end up sleeping with Alex Apnea. Whew. Ha.

I love New Jersey Transit for all the absurd white conversations you here. Last night, there was some overgrown geek bemoaning how the space program had fallen off pace, how if the pace set by the 1970s had continued, we'd be on Mars by now. And be "we" he meant, of course, the US. And how sadly only China (a rising power in the space world) would goad the United States into a mission to Mars that doesn't involve Val Kilmer. Of course, he failed to realize that the space program is a fucking waste of money. Well, manned spaceflight anyway. I'm well past my Star Trek days. Also on the train last night, an absurd little chubby-cheeked squirrel of a boy was reading the flashing overhead messages robotically "Please keep feet... off the seats... NEXT STATION... Secaucus...." and over and over again, doing his best to anticipate what would then be said. Fucking white robots. Of course, this was the same kid whose none-too-bright mom was haltingly trying to explain the Johnny Cash song, "A Boy Named Sue," to which the boy replied, "He should have just changed his name when he got enough money... That's what I'm going to do...."

How bad could it be? Dwayne? Dweebus? I think that in this country we'd still suck the cock of a billionaire named Dwayne Dweebus.