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A Design for (what barely borders on) Living
Written on 2001-09-11, at 5:06 a.m.
dizboy's disturbing daily diet...

1 Pepperoni Pizza from Scholotzky's Deli

1 Bag of Chips

3 Red Bulls

3 Jones Bubble Gum Sodas

6 Cigarettes


As you can see by my beverage intake today, I was a VERY hyper boy.

Which now explains why I'm up at 5:15am, trying to while away the time until my 8:55 class.

We had our Gap overnight tonight, for the adults store this time.

I worked from 4:30pm...

...to 4:30am.

"Whew, it's a good thing you got an hour and a half lunch to break that time up John."

Oh...but I didn't.

I had...3 cigarette breaks, about 5 minutes each.

Oh yeah, I forgot...I went to bed at 4am last night, since I was at work till 3.

Oh yeah, I forgot as well...I got up for class at 7am.

An, yes...it had slipped my mind that as I'm walking up to the building at about 8:30, I'm told that the class, my one and only on Mondays, is again, cancelled.

Did I massacre nuns in a previous existence or something?

Because that's about the only explanation I can think of as to why karma likes to tweeze my ass hairs like it does.

God, that was graphic...you can almost feel it, can't you?


So here I sit, staying awake, taking out my frustrations on www.sissyfight.com .

It really is quite an amazing game, but it's very black and white, insofar as it will either calm you down, and make you laugh...

...or it will resurface all the bitter memories of the children in the schoolyard taunting you just because you look a little different than them. I mean, so what if you like to wear your Snoopy shirt in the fourth grade that's your prerogative isn't it why in the world should they care it's not like snoopy is bothering them i like it ok so you can all just piss off and i'm going to tell the teacher on you stop it my last name isn't "fartz" and so what if i dont want to climb the stupid tree ok i just dont like it it's really high and what if i fall that doesn't make me a sissy ok now REALLY stop it i'm going to go get the teacher and he's going to...

CAN'T SLEEP, CLOWNS WILL EAT ME...

CAN'T SLEEP, CLOWNS WILL EAT ME...

CAN'T SLEEP, CLOWNS WILL EAT ME...

CAN'T SLEEP, CLOWNS WILL EAT ME...

CAN'T SLEEP, CLOWNS WILL EAT ME...

CAN'T SLEEP, CLOWNS WILL EAT ME...

CAN'T SLEEP, CLOWNS WILL EAT ME...

CAN'T SLEEP, CLOWNS WILL EAT ME...

CAN'T SLEEP, CLOWNS WILL EAT ME...

CAN'T SLEEP, CLOWNS WILL EAT ME...

CAN'T SLEEP, CLOWNS WILL EAT ME...

CAN'T SLEEP, CLOWNS WILL EAT ME...

CAN'T SLEEP, CLOWNS WILL EAT ME...

.

..

...

Wow.

That was interesting.


Let's all take a look at how this next 24 hours is going to go...

5:30-7:30am: Force myself to remain awake by doing interesting Martha Stewart-esque things, i.e., feed ducks downstairs, organize closet by color, wipe excess lube off top of bottle. Trés Martha.

7:30-8am: Make myself beautiful for all the chronically disinterested boys at school.

8-8:45am: Fight rush hour traffic on Satan's Speedway, aka, Interstate 4, then attempt to find a parking spot at school which is within the general political boundry of the United States.

8:55-10:10am: Sit in class. Ponder why I like this professor. Because she said the phrase "Fifteen-foot vagina" on the first day? Ah yes, that's it.

10:10-10:30am: Inhale as many cigarettes as possible between large gulps of very strong coffee. Note to self: Look into just munching on the beans.

10:30-12:50pm: Sleep through incredibly boring math class while professor pretends he's witty.

12:50-1pm: Go to Financial Aid, and demand that they give me more money, as I have credit cards to pay off (Does ANYONE actually use their financial aid for school anymore?).

1:30pm: Arrive at Gap, put on a big show pretending to be far more tired than I am, as to garner sympathy.

1:45pm: Speak loudly in the proximity of Store Manager about how much more Universal is paying me to be a Coordinator for Halloween Horror Nights, and that I may drop much of my Gap availability to go there. This makes me look in demand, and will secure at LEAST a 400% raise.

2-7pm: Pretend to be working on my Windows/Displays, while actually trying on all our new clothing.

7:15pm: Remember my Buick does not have autopilot, do that angry "smack-myself-in-the-face" thing to wake up.

7:16:pm: Repeat.

7:17pm: Repeat.

7:18pm: Notice my swollen red cheeks now make me look like a drunken Irishman. Refrain from useless self-battery.

7:25pm: Arrive at home, head to Diaryland, check to see if my "diaries which list dizboy as a favorite diary" has gone up (Isn't that the first thing everyone does?).

7:26pm: Once again praise the name of "aniece" for adding me, and getting me out of the 20's.

7:27pm: Check Guestbook, wonder why when I write lovely poetry, no one signs, but lube and condoms seem to warrant all sorts of banter.

7:30pm: Realize I'm far too tired to do an entry.

7:35pm: Sit on couch waiting for wife to come home.

7:40pm: Realize I am a homosexual, go to bed with Arthur (See center picture at top of page).

7:45pm: Attempt to read.

7:47pm: Fail miserably, fall asleep.

7:50pm-?: Lie in blissful slumber until I awake to take on a Wednesday.


Right then, time to feed the ducks...

Be well...

-JOHN-


Your Host and Emcee...dizboy.

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