Looks a little different at 6:30 in the morning with Howard Stern extolling the virtues of implants in your half-conscious ears. Looks a little different around noon when the project you've been working on for the last year and a half starts collapsing down around itself. Looks a little different at 3:30 in the afternoon when you claw your way, heart full of dread and death, into the information line at the Dept. of Motor Vehicles. Looks a little different two and a half hours later when you finally get out of there with your new license plates and head over to your favorite restaurant, where you're so exhausted and stressed out that you're not even hungry. Looks a little different when you get home at 8:42 to find new cat gak piles and realize you have to do laundry or you're gonna reek up the office good tomorrow, and then she'll never want to be your girlfriend.

Every goddamn day? Whose idea was that?

You know what, people, we all know that it takes way too long to get anything done at the DMV, but what doesn't help is you standing there sighing every five minutes and mumbling under your breath, "This is unbelievable." Shut the fuck up, you disgusting little turd. Don't you think it would go a lot quicker if everyone in there would just smile a little and chat with each other and have a good laugh about what humanity has become, standing there passing their little pieces of paper around and getting in line 3, then line 6, then line 8, then line 4. What wonders we've wrought, and still we've been able to boil down life to paper and lines. We are truly the kings of all creation. You idiot.

But if all this is gonna be is a daily rant, then I might as well shut it down right about now, funk soul brother, because even I am getting sick of reading this already, and I haven't even written it yet.

No chance of bringing together a coherent thought long enough to write anything significant today. I was certainly hoping that the grand opening here would be a little more auspicatory, but if it's not to be, 'tsnot. This writer's block I have, it's kind of a curious one. Instead of thinking of nothing to write, everything just becomes all cats and chinese food again. It's been three years, and I've grown both as a person and as an artist, and there's no way I'm writing one word about cats and chinese food on this webpage.

Ah good, someone's at the door. That almost gives me an excuse to wrap this up.

Well, now the guest has left. No, we don't need to get into that tonight. Don't wanna waste all my best material on a throwaway like this. Suffice it to say: "Eesh."

As a closing note, I went back and checked out some of that old PWC stuff last night. I suggest you do the same, and in particular pay close attention to the Clash's Corner columns. Oh my goodness gracious, some of that stuff is as funny as anything you're gonna find. Trust me, what that guy lacked in quantity, he made up for in drug/alcohol references.

Have a nice day. I'll do better tomorrow, I promise. Oh Jesus, it's almost tomorrow already. Not again. Going to the gym was easier than this.