zero comments (not referring 2 myself or Z Mostel or that flick from a couple years ago w/ broken-nose Wilson... or Bill Pullman?-perfect comment opp)

...things haven't been going too smoothley of late (besides the glistening mustard that just lent itself to the 2 "organic" hot dogs I just devoured). Journaling is just the sort of stupid theapy I need these days-get it off my chest, for myself to hear... as that's actually better I'm convinced then pouring your heart out to another, where no matter what, you measure your words, hear your voice, form your thoughts, decide what's listenable, try to impress or gain sympathy, let your mind wander, notice the spot on his tie or the thing in-between her teeth (or between her legs). What better word for this shit too than blog... though I'd call it blahg... played last night, and though we're the hottest thing on wheels, there were scant few in attendance... a marked difference to the throngs of hipsters at Max's Lit City. Damn, how can a guy with so little charm, who worships Steve Albini down to the type of tp the "indie rock guru" most likely uses (though Steve-and trust me on this, b/c I've met him-would most likely laugh in his face)create such a fucking popular hang? I dunno... today I spent too much time fixing stupid shit on my car-I did a collage of broken reflector peices to replace a broken reflector (the finished product wouldn't have recieved a D in sculpture class), and I replaced a burnt blinker bulb burnt blinker bulb burnt blinker bulb burnlt blinkre buld butnry blimnetr buslp. I'd previously gone hog wild in Auto Zone. Damn, I guess I'm a guy, cuz you put me in a place like that and saliva starts a tricklin'. "I could use that" "cool" "1/2 inch or 1/4 with a galvanized hub inlay?" (I just made that up)... Afterwards I spent hrs sending out fucking picture/resumes... no wonder I'm losing it, seeing my face repeatedly grinning back at me/stapling my head to a cover letter then inserting it in a 9x12 envelope over and over... what an antiquated system. I can say one thing for the reality show boom, they at least have figured out that sending your 8x10 via email saves a lot of time... so, as no chicks are lined up this fine evening (sob), and I have to get up at 7am and truck out to Newark to shoot some more on this indie trailer, I'm off. Oh, Rollo is gonna play Monday night at the Stinger club in Williamsburg for some new brit shit/indie slop night. you wanna come? hot rocks...