...a dragonfly descends with just a whisper, 'i'm lonlier than god,'..."
Ladies and gentleman, college is a bust. Seventh floor room with one working fan. Shleeve and I went to Wal-mart, the only store in town, to get another, and they were sold out. Good planning, Walton family. Thanks a lot.
So photography will cost a fortune, and my old job, near as I can tell, doesn't exist. None of my other classes are worth mentioning for anything. My film class is dropped due to the incredible jack-ass-pretention (sp) of the professor.
I fucking dare you to look on IMDB under Jack Sholder and tell me if this guy has the right to assume that, since he's clearly in possession of all movie knowledge, no one else can possibly have any. Trying to bribe people to do the class work with an autographed copy of your magnum opus Nightmare on Elm Street II after insulting their intelligence nonstop for three hours and keeping them forty minutes late just doesn't fly, buddy.
So life's a bowl of cherries. and women still largely hate me.
send lawyers, guns and money.
MUSIC: mountain goats: something here will eventually have to explode