...the key that I thought was the key for the safe deposit box is, in fact, a mystery key. No idea where the hell the actual key is; I looked in about half a dozen logical places for the thing and it was in none of them. Obviously the key has been placed in a "safe" place; it is certainly proof against easy detection!
But inventorying the safe deposit box can wait, I suppose, as I doubt there's anything in there that's time-critical.
* * *
Yeah, I don't believe that for one microsecond. "One-third of young Japanese men not interested in sex," my ass. You can't be an anime fan and believe some shit like that.
It may be true that one-third of young Japanese men don't bother with sex, since they've got so many other things to occupy them--things like work, and bar girls, and weird masturbation devices and panty vending machines:
...and a whole slew of other distractions. Besides, Japanese women can be incredibly maintenance-intensive if you meet the wrong kind; Japanese women tend to work as office ladies (OLs) until marriage, living with their parents and spending their salaries on all sorts of luxuries (like travel abroad, name-brand goods, etc). After marriage, they expect to quit work and become housewives, and also expect their husbands to support them in the style in which they lived when they were OLs. That expectation makes having a girlfriend both an utter waste of time and a total drag on your entire existence.
But "not interested"? Unless they're putting some kind of anti-Viagra into the beer over there, somehow I doubt it.
* * *
"The little faggot with the earring and the makeup/yeah, buddy, that's his own hair/that little faggot got his own jet airplane/that little faggot he's a millionaire."
"I'm saying that nice and loud even though you hate it, even though, y'know, uh, fascist? But you can't keep me from saying it." (Neal Stevenson, The Big U.)
* * *
UAW still wants to unionize Japanese transplants. I have to wonder, though--if those plants were to unionize, would UAW workers still trash Japanese cars parked near their factories?
* * *
Boortz talks about the 67% tax hike we're getting rammed up our rectal orofices here in the People's Republic of Illinois.
And do not forget: the tax hike was accompanied by absolutely no spending cuts whatsoever.
Thanks, Democrats! Fuck you all right up the ass with a twelve-piston asshammer topped with a flaming sphere made of twelve-foot razor sharp rusty iron spikes heavily laced with strontium 90 and plutonium.
* * *
Yeah, the guy who replied to this ditz's forum post is right on.
...and the pantywaist douchebag who wrote the article for Jalopnik is a freakin' metrosexual asshat.
* * *
The "ludicrous" bit:
I went to bed last night around 2 AM because I was really, really tired. I thought, "Damn, I'm pretty sure I'm tired enough to sleep until 8 or 9 AM!" I set the alarm for 9:30 AM and hit the hay.
...woke up after two hours of sleep, and could not get back to sleep, even after taking half a Xanax.
I lay in bed, trying to sleep for two hours, until it started to get light outside; then around perhaps 7:30 I fell asleep until the alarm went off at 9:30.
And when I woke up? Naturally I felt like I'd been dredged from the mire of an antediluvean swamp. I hit the snooze button and fell asleep before the alarm went off again.
That is, for the record, less than nine minutes.
And it went on like that. I reset the alarm for 10:30; when 10:30 came around it woke me again and I played tag with the snooze button until Limbaugh came on. I still couldn't get myself to do anything other than lay there.
It really makes me wish I could split into two copies of myself, so that I could beat myself up. Or, even better, split into three copies, so I could hold myself down and beat the crap out of myself.
It's so f-ing frustrating: I have no energy when I need it; but when I need to be asleep, it's f-ing party time! When I want or need to fall asleep, it takes no less than half an hour even if I'm tired--but if I need to be awake, I can doze off in a couple of minutes.
It would be so satisfying if I could just haul off and punch myself in the mouth, just once. BAM! WHY DON'T YOU STOP HAVING SUCH A CONTRARY SON OF A BITCH FOR A SLEEP CYCLE, YOU FUCKING FUCK?
There aren't words in the English language which are bad enough to express my helpless rage at this bullshit.
* * *
Monday is a bank holiday, and I expect Tuesday to be consumed in preparation for (and worry over) the interview on Wednesday. Although the interview is for 9 AM Wednesday, I expect the entire day to be shot, because I'll come home, climb out of the monkey suit, and collapse into a shape strongly resembling cooked spaghetti. Blah.
Good or bad, I'm going to go get Pecanbons as soon as I recover from that.