Head Like A Hole

I'm never good with birthday presents. Alcohol was such a good gift back when we were minors. Now that we have ready access, it just doesn't pack the same kick. So now I'm paroozing Amazon and flipping through a catalogue for Brookstone. I don't have a clue what to get, I never do. I end up marking the things I want and coming back to them later. Birthday gifts are like condolences. 'Shit, sorry you had to exist through another year. Here - I hope this thing here gets you through this year' and then I hand them an AM radio or Hot Pockets with a couple bites taken out of them. I'd like to mandate that you only get gifts if you've had a bad year. Missing limbs - good gift. Family dead - Trinket. Still employed and not all jaundice like - squat.

I upset a small, Mexican man today to the point his spanglish blew up until full Spanish swearing. I fear that this might become a routine thing. Then again, that fear is lodged into the back of everyone's head. Maybe I'm just making too much of it.

A few friends and I came up with the idea for a short film called 'Super Neutrals' while we were watching X2. It seems logical. There are heroes and villains with powers. Why not totally apathetic slackers? It just seems like a lot of work protecting/threatening the general public. Holding down a 9-5 is work enough in my book.

I was walking today and I saw a three year old boy walking a few steps away from his parents. I smiled and waved in a small gesture, but the boy stopped in his tracks and jumped in his spot. "Hi!' and then waved his hand from one side of his body to the other. If God could guarantee me a child that cute, I'd have kids. Until then, I'm child snatching from house to house until I find one on my own.

Reminders for the class: Monday means Friday is four days away. Calm down.