Dis-Inspirational.

I really didn't do anything today. I watched a movie, The Station Agent, it was good use of 89 minutes but nothing spectacular. So yeah, I [pretty much sat on my ass all day in this very same chair, in my room, in front of the computer surfing the net. The internet is life, the internet has it all. Why should I leave this chair? I wish I could implant a chip in my head that would beam wireless internet into my head and interface with my brain so I could see the world with a browser window superimposed over the usual vistas I see; But until then, I'll just put those twenty-five pound dumbbells by the desk so if I end up on a page that is mostly text, or a file that takes a long time to download I can pump iron while I wait/read. In the future I plan on having a living room full of treadmills so instead of plopping down on the couch to watch TV you would run. If the TV was set up to display your computer desktop that would be cool too; and a wireless mouse-remote combo would let you control it from the tray thing most treadmills have. There, now you can be a geek sans the lard ass. A stair-stepper-potato.

Wow, that turned into an entire paragraph. I was going to type a short post about how I did nothing and had no inspiration and suddenly, like your little sister who drinks ovaltine, it blossomed into this dream for the future. I actually suggested this family arrangement to Mom and she did not go for it. Like many women she prefers functionless rooms. Rooms that look good when you take a picture of them but once the guests leave no one is allowed to sit on the furniture (not that you would want to because none of the couches are comfortable).

Here is a true story about inspiration: When I was in 8th grade I had a teacher who was new to F MS named Mr. Roadie. At the time I thought Mr. Roadie was pretty cool, he reminded me of myself, he was kinda bitter and really cynical. Now that I think back Mr. Roadie was just a sweaty deuchebag. He did have true life fangs which were pretty cool but that about it. Anyway, one day we were supposed to write journal entries about something or someone who inspired us to take action. I wrote something about how much I hated other students and teachers and wanted to sink axes into their skulls; then I read it to the class. Mr. Roadie called the office and we all had a nice little chat; both there at the school (you should have seen that strained look of disbelief on his face), and back home with parents.

"If a guy farts in Kansas it can create a tsuami in Indonesia" -A Chaos Theory Mantra