This is a very hilly area. The school campus is bisected by a little stream; we have to cross it and a large gully using a long wooden bridge. Today as I walked across the bridge I saw a duck, a mallard actually, paddling around in a small pool fed by this pitful stream. At first I thought it was a decoy because it was too colorful. There was no one else around. When I came back later it was gone. I didn't even bother telling anyone because I doubt they would've believed me. And if you're reading this and wondering what's so special about a damn duck, well I've lived in this area for a long time and I can count the wild ducks I've seen on one hand and still have fingers left over.

Lecture time! If I ever catch any of you spitting gum out on the ground anywhere ever, I'll stick my foot so far up your ass no proctologist will ever reach it. I just spent ten minutes or more scraping fresh gum off the bottom of one of my Nikes. Not even remotely enjoyable. End of lecture.

My lack of inspiration has lasted longer than I expected. I thought I could just fill up a few days with some old junk from my notebooks and then get back with the swing of things, but it's just not happening. Things are dirt dull in my life right now. Not to mention the fact of that miserable accounting test I have hanging over my head. So now what, more old notebook crap? There's plenty to chose from. I've got 21 volumes of notebooks in a milk crate under my bed. An awe-inspiring 4,000-5,000 pages of idiocy to select from. But, frankly, I'd rather lick the floor than root through that glop.

My previous two entries were simply revisions of entries in my "I remember" notebook from summer 2001. (I couldn't think of anything to write because I've wasted so much time reading about vintage electric guitars.) The idea came from the late artist/poet Joe Brainard who did a whole book, (called, appropriately enough, I Remember) using this technique. After a quick Google search, I found an entire blog that uses only this method. I haven't dug into it yet, but it looks interesting. This technique is, at least for me, a fascinating way to accumulate an autobiography.

I remember once in my 11th grade Spanish class we were doing vocabulary words like meat, fish, bread, etc. and the teacher said these words would be useful if we were ever in a Spanish restaurant. So I said, "Wait a minute.You can't just go into a restaurant and say, 'I want meat.'" I got the laugh I was looking for, but the teacher threatened to give me extra vocabulary words for being wiseguy. Bitch. And to this day I still can't speak Spanish.

I remember when I was very little an uncle caught a small aquatic turtle in his pond and gave it to us. My parents put it in a glass bowl filled with water. Not long after, when my sister was at school, I went out to look at the turtle. I put my finger in the water and decided it was too cold. So I poured out the water and refilled the bowl with warm water. Maybe it was too hot, because by the time my sister came home the little turtle was floating upside down. I just wanted the little turtle to be warm and ended up making turtle soup.

I really don't have the time to waste in front of my computer. I have accounting homework due Wednesday and the final test the next Wednesday. I have a lot of nonsense to memorize in the next ten days of so. God, I hate accounting so much. I could breeze through school if it wasn't for accounting.

I dreamed I bought a new computer. For some reason I was running it with the panel off the case so I could look at the insides. There was no heat-sink or fan over the processor and, as I watched, the processor melted into a silvery glob. Is this covered by the warranty, I wondered.

And now I give you what is officially the most bewildering search request anyone has ever used to blunder across my blog: "male nipple" -gynecomastia -pipe -shower -plumbing -ring -rings -surgery -piercing -piercings. But on the brighter side, at least Google led the sad bastard to one of my more thought provoking rants. (And by "though provoking", I mean stupid.)

When my sister and I were little we hated the flavor of toothpaste. We brainstormed to come up with a more palatable flavor. Our result? Fried chicken. At the time it sounded like a good idea.

I found a page that supposedly shows all the oddball guitar tuning schemes used by Sonic Youth up to the early 90's. It's about twelve years too late for me, but it's still fascinating stuff. (Unless you just don't care.)

A few minutes ago I was sadly running my fingers over my ever increasing bald spot and discovered, to my horror, that I have a dent in the top of my head.

I have brain lock today. Pity me. Meanwhile, why not learn to play the guitar just like David Fair (formally of the infamous Half-Japanese). And for further inspiration, read this page on Jandek. Then read this page on the Shaggs. In an afternoon you too can be a musical genius.

I had a dental appointment this morning. Nothing serious, just a bit of scraping, poking, and polishing. The bad part was they were caught short-handed, so I had to spend a lot of time waiting. I waited in the waiting room, where I read a pamphlet on childhood dental care from 1977 (I remember this same pamphlet in the waiting room of my childhood dentist). And I waited in the dentist's chair both before and during the action (such as it was).

The only thing I've ever looked forward to in a dentist's chair was the slim chance that one of the cuter hygienists would, during whatever arcane teeth abusing ritual she was performing, get me in a headlock and mash her boobs into the side of my head. It's happened before. Twice. It didn't happen today.

While I waited in the chair, I read the titles on the rows of pamphlets placed out of my reach. One title read, "Why your dentist is referring you to a _____" and the last word was blocked by a smaller pamphlet in front. I amused myself with possible candidates: mortician, auto-body shop, exorcist, veterinarian, stone mason, graduate student in the robotics department of M.I.T., etc.

In the end all of this costed me $70.

I'm a sick, sick man. For the past few days I've wasted innumerable hours in front of my PC looking at web pages about electric guitars. I haven't played either of my good guitars on a regular basis in years, yet for some reason I suddenly have the urge to buy a new electric guitar. Why? I don't even have an amp for my old electric guitar. (I pawned it years ago.) This is lunacy. And all of this would make far more sense if all this guitar oriented reading had inspired me to start playing again, but it hasn't. Yes, I did drag my Rickenbacker out of the closet and tune it (badly), but I did little else. My musical skill level is slightly below the Shaggs and Jandek levels. (Look them up on Google yourself, dammit; it's almost my bed time.)

Volume 22 is listed 89th at Yahoo! for "somewhere in the world right now".

Tuesdays are miserable and Wednesdays are a bore. No, now that I think about it, Wednesdays suck too.

Too many people try to strike it rich online. They should aim lower. Instead of trying to make millions, try to make thousands. My goal is to hatch some scheme where I'd make about $400-$500 a week without having to do anything. I'll let you know how it goes. So far I have nothing.

I'm so far out of the loop it's not even funny. A few days ago, after getting a hit from someone searching Google for kim jong il blog, I joked around about Jong Il having a blog and I even did his Friday Five. Well, today I got another hit for the same thing. After a little digging, I came up with a joke Kim Jong Il blog (at Live Journal, no less). What made it worse was that apparently everybody and their grandma was linking to this last month. Next I'll breathlessly tell you all about the big controversy surrounding the Bloggies.

Computers are amazing, but not nearly amazing enough. Our computers should know us individually and be able to gauge what we need at a specific time, kind of like that creepy thing at Amazon that makes suggestions on what you should buy next based on what you've bought in the past. At times the Amazon thing's uncanny, but the effect is spoiled when it persists in suggesting I buy stuff I already own. How can I tell it I already have a copy of the first Joy Division album? But I digress. Computers should be trained to seek out what we like. If I sit down at my PC and don't immediately go to a specific page it should just automatically pop up a page I might like. It should gauge my mood, in effect, telling me, "Hey, check out this article on linguistics," or "Look at all this information on urban legends," or "I'll bet a little free porno would cheer you up." But it doesn't do this and, alas, it probably never will. Instead we have to be content with pop-up ads suggesting we get hidden cameras so we can spy on women getting dressed, or, even worse, suggestions that we should install the dreaded BonziBuddy. I'm very disappointed with computers.

Easter's completely over, so that means I can go and buy tons of discount Easter chocolate and gorge myself until I start to hallucinate. Or not. Whatever. My plans aren't written in stone.

I'm so bored.