XVIII: Some lights may never go out.

Be they the flames of passion or the inside of a school long since vacated for the night.

It's about 3:00. How I can even think about blogging is beyond understanding, but the moment has struck and fr a very good reason. Today was, as far as blog posts go, good material. However, I shall hae to attempt to be brief, as my typing is relatively loud and my brother is attempting to sleep on the couch behind me.

As you will no doubt recall, (or scan like three posts down to read,) I was at work today mostly because I asked Mike why I was only booked on one shift. His response was to enthusiastically slap as many shifts on there as he could. In retrospect I really just saved time because like 4 people were sick today (although I suspect at least one was not exactly "sick" in the conventional sense... but I haven't a clue what that means beyond that) and so the closest people we had to managers had to call in whomever would pick up the phone. Had I not been working, I probably would've just mentally said "fuck it I'm playing video games." Not out loud, but in my head. Out loud, I would have hemmed and hawed and said "Sorry, I can't today," because I would be thinking "Well you didn't book me, so why should I?" That's a shitty way of thinking, but I'm a pretty petty guy in these matters. Anyway, some people came in, and I roamed the floors for about 8 hours helping a handful of people but mostly just telling people The Devil Wears Prada was sold out. Yeah, I'm just an ineffective cog in a careless machine, used for expediency.

I think kids should learn scatological humour at a young age and become familiar and comfortable with it. Because it's out there.

I helped a mother and her 7-year-old kid pick out a rap CD for her class. I wanted to ask why, but it wasn't really my place. I had a tough time finding one that had no "Explicit Lyrics" sticker, but eventually I noticed Will Smith's header card and said a quiet "thank you" to 'Big Willie' for saving me. Will Smith is definitely safe for 7-year-olds. At least, that's how I remember the Fresh Prince.

The sad thing about the entire work affair, as I'm being reminded by my nose-blowing, is that I'm kinda sick myself. I'm not in the habit of taking sick days, but I might've considered it, had 4 people not already done so. I mean, at school it's fine, because that's my own germs on my own keyboard or whatever, but here I'm handling peoples' shit. It probably wasn't all that sanitary, but I did keep the hand-sanitizer (which I usually don't use because I am aware its effects can be as negative as positive,) on hand and used regularly.

I took my iPod out for its first tour today. A bad idea, maybe, was listening to Mitch Hedberg on it on the bus. I must've looked like either a goon, or a sociopath, chuckling to myself with my head down and hood on, And I hate iPod headphones.

After that was Risk, which for once was held within the lavish confines of Patrick Visintini's basement. Guest player was Connor Sutherland. It was in honesty, the most competitive game we've played in a long while, even though we've not played seriously for a long while anyway. Far back as they may be, this game was better than most of our other previous ones.

I'd better get to bed. This is a scorpion's legacy.

(That doesn't mean anything, but it sounds so cool that I ought to find out a meaning and make it something.)

Keep on rockin'
-Scotto