Video killed the radio star? Well netflix killed the iaoos star. As you can see in my previous post, I'm not the biggest fan of writing anyways, but 2 months just isn't acceptable. Well, I'm back now, and I'd say I'm going to make a more concerted effort to update this bitch but I'm not going to lie to you. It's funny that I'm no better at updating an online journal than I am a hand-held one. My mom tried a few times to get me to write in a journal, but after about a month it'd be done with. I think I have like 3 or 4 journals that are about 1/20th filled. Pathetic, I know. I'm always kind of confused what to write, though, also. I imagine there's no "right" way to keep a journal, but do I write to it like it's my psychiatrist? "Hey journal, I've been really drunk lately, I wake up to a shot of cuervo and go to sleep to a shot of jack. I love my life, don't you?" I dunno, and come to think of it, I don't care. Well, I don't think I care at least. And now that I'm rambling, can you ramble when writing or is it a verbal thing, I wonder who I'm writing this for... Am I writing it for you? You being the 1 person who reads this every 6 months. Or am I writing it for myself? Future generations? It'd be a bit conceited of me to think that anyone else actually cares what I have to write, but if I'm writing it for myself, does that make my quasi-schizo (pronounced skitzo), memory problems? Lame? All of the above? I'll take 'd', Bob.
And now for a Boston area book report:
For my report I read Oliva Twist. Queea name, I know, the book wuznt haaf baad.
And now for something completely different.
I'm going camping this weekend for memorial day. I'm not sure if it's a reminiscience type of thing, but I fucking love camping. When I was younger we'd go camping at least once every summer, and it's just fun. When I look back, I have so many great memories from camping. Gathering wood for the fire, starting it from scratch (no girlscout starter), sitting back drinking a beer, fooling around with the pretty girls who were camping too, swimming with dolphins, white-water rafting, bike riding, sleeping in a dry tent during a downpour (no better way to sleep...almost). I don't normally get "excited" for things. You know that feeling you used to get as a kid, kind of a fuzzy feeling in your chest, yeah, well I don't get it any more. But this is close to making it come back.
P.S. I don't know if you know this about me, but Fuck The Jets!!!! Just thought I'd throw that in there. Night folks.