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My glass is stained in an orangey-film. Placing my nose to its rim, I sense the glass was once the home of a fruitactular punch. Deduction, as well as a quick glance around the room, spots for us the exact nature of the once-liquid. It must have been consumable, why else would it have inhabited the glass?? Well, I dunno, I didn't drink it. Strange times are these when my own glass is used under my own nose in my own room whilst I was not here. Odd indeed. On the other hand, it gave me something to do and I took mug shots of the raped glass. Yes, an interrogation was pursued but the cylindrical construct wouldn't budge. I had to get a little rough with some good-cop-bad-cop stuff but it didn't work out too well and the glass thought I was losing it or enjoying my work far too much. In any case, I failed to produce even a whimper f??{?the used and abused keeper of refreshment. I figured I should get a lineup started but my father wouldn't go for it. He looked at me funny when I explained the situation to him. He has a terrible poker face. Something tells me it was him but I'll need a warrant before I can investigate any further.
In other news, I've acquired the third part of the LotR series in DVD quality for share on my aim server. Download away oh privileged ones. Now in transit is a screener of the Prisoner of Azkaban and I am told it was quite an impressive looking movie. I may just go see it by myself tomorrow at the mall. It'd be good to get out of here for something other than job hunting and I have not yet given myself the rough-handjoblike treatment of attempting to find parking at that hideous excuse for a building.
Certain things have me down lately but I am not fretting over the future as much as I was last night or the night before. The order of events has hit me all in one swoop without much breathing room between blows. So, what the hell, why worry about crap like that. My mom will do some yelling and I'll just stand there and yawn at her and she'll think I'm disrespecting her and I'll tell her I'm really just tired of standing there and she'll tell me I'm lying and to go to my room or something, and she'll start up being all pissy again and it will cause a schism in the familial structure days before my sister's "sweet" sixteenth which, at the rate this paragraph is going, is bound to be a horrid showcase of emotional exaggeration from parental unit M and over-comforting siding and shoulder rubbing from Captain Shmuck whom she married. I will look like the bad person again, as I am used to by now, and she will play wounded soul. And when I tell her I'm taking care of things the best way I can, she will stand by and sarcastically nod at me in agreement, arms crossed, staring through me. Of course, she won't lift a finger to help me and it will only get worse until the renewal stage wherein she'll claim to not give me anymore chances or something and attempt to have a heart-felt moment with me where she'll want me to cry on her shoulder and I will look at her and say "Not this time, I'm leaving." and with that I'll head to my room and cry on my own and then I'll browse the internet for several hours, into the early morning, looking for opportunities, off-and-on, none of which I'll actually be qualified for and anything I am already a shoe-in for will be occupied by some prickish high school kid whose never been out of Rockland and thinks his mommy and daddy are the law of the land. This might even sound familiar to some of you! Please share!
I've been cleaning the dust out of keyboard at different times today. I'm not sure how it started but I was holding a very sharp pencil with which to scrape the flanks of keys with to loosen the powder and blow it with heavy breathing. Yeah, I could just go buy a can of compressed air but that would run me eight dollars or so. Well, I'm tired now and I have too much to say so I'll not say any of it to be an equal opportunity fuckhead.
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