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2002-10-17 - 3:22 p.m.
Threat for the Week: "I'll be in heaven half an hour before the devil knows you're dead." It's my conspiratorial birthday! Every great student of the Invisible College and the Illuminated Arts hopes to celebrate this pinnacle with dignity, grace, and a barking .45 in each hand, gunning down the troops of the New World Order. Having none of those available, I've opted to celebrate with lemon meringue pie, Dooley's toffee liqueur, and "Gremlins 2" on DVD. Since I've cluttered up so much of my diary with my fascinating creative efforts, I think I'll take this opportunity to provide a brief aside on my life as it stands. I'm 23 and actually working at a job I enjoy which shills out enough mazoolions to not only pay my bills and eat but to rid myself of debt. I got a new seat for my bike for free and I ride to work and wear whatever I want. Children will willingly surrender all their worldly goods and their very souls for the possibility of not being mind-numbingly bored for at least one class period out of their dreary day. I have thereby accumulated a staggering collection of wallet chains and Dragonball Z cards. I'm living in a swanky house with all the amenities of modern living, including a washer/dryer, central air, and a towering golden calf. I have a lemon meringue pie. I am in reasonably good health and my bank account is comfortably full enough that I can do a week's shopping without immediately having a panic attack and collapsing facefirst and frothing into the Juicy Fruit rack. I recently purchased a blue shangtung tuxedo jacket for my wedding, the planning for which is going quite smoothly. I share my illustrious birthdate with the great playwright Arthur Miller, the great daredevil Evel Knievel, and the great television drunk George Wendt. I will let them eat cake. I know the secrets that make the puppets dance. I write the songs that make the whole world sing someone else's songs. And now ... I do the Cabbage Patch.  Go Wheelie! Go Wheelie! It's your birthday! Go Wheelie! I feel better than James Brown. - \/\/heel talk about the problems of the world later, Horatio. 
 
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