Times New Keeferton Keef shows no signs of lethality or psychosis

27Jul/010

oh holy crap

goddamn goddamn goddamn goddamn

I just took my final. I feel like I bombed the holy hell out of it. Oh god, save me por favor.

Of course, I felt that way after my mid-term, too, and I ended up getting a B- on that. We'll see.

OH HOLY GOD I'M NEVER GOING TO GRADUATE AND GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!

IT MAKES ME WANT TO STRANGLE A MANATEE... IN THE NUDE... *grunt*

I DON'T KNOW WHERE THIS IMAGE WENT

That's another one of Wes's comics. Mail him and tell him you want him to do strips regularly for Keef Dot Org.

In other news:

My dad sent me a picture of his mom from 1927.
My grandmother.  And her nostrils.

Look at those big wonderful nostrils. That's where I get my monstrous flaring nose-holes. I've always been proud of them. I'm from a clan of hellacious sniffers. My odor-detection abilities come from the Ohio branch of the family tree.

I wish I could sleep. Instead, I must finish this goddamn paper about The Matrix, and the Ramifications of Descartes' Scepticism Within. Then I will eat, and go on the radio, and watch Planet of the Apes. Then I will sleep, get up and work nine hours, sleep, get up and work five hours, sleep, get up and work eight hours. Sleep, work eight hours, sleep, work eight hours.

Rinse, repeat until a) my head blows up or b) I'm rich enough to retire comfortably.

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27Jul/010

I’M ALL LATHERY

Man o Man. I haven't been getting much sleep. I slept for three hours last night and I'm probably going to get about three hours tonight. But the upside of being almost hallucinatory when I do my schoolwork is that I always feel like everything that I write is pure goddamn genius. This book? Man, I'm revising the shit out of the first chapter, and it's going to be finely honed into a battle-ax of literary fantasticness with which I shall behead all those other lame-o authors. WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

So I was talking to my mom today and I was bitching about how that fucker George W. Bush fucked me over with his "Aid For the Rich" tax cut, and my mom related my Grandfather's three rules about money, which are:

1) It never comes as soon as you thought it would.
2) It's never as much as you thought it would be.
3) It never goes as far as you thought it would.

In my experience, this has always been the case. Except for that time in 1998 when I was working at the Brown Bottle for like a week and then I dropped that dish and it cut my tendon and I got like this fucking massive $700 worker's compensation check. Man, that shit was the bomb-diggity. Word up. To your mom.

Last night I was talking to Wes about stuff. He was drinkety-drinking. I recalled that I still had all his old comic strips. I scanned some of them for his enjoyment. Here's one of 'em for the enjoyment of all of you out there. This one always makes me laugh.

(NOTE: that was drawn years ago and Leech draws much better now. Although I still think that shit's pretty fucking funny.)

I was telling the Wes that I thought it would be really cool if he did a fairly regular comic strip for keef dot org. Like, I dunno, weekly or something. Or monday-wednesday-friday. Or some shit, I don't know. What do y'all think? Tell me. Or, what the hell, Tell Wes.

Okay. Now I need to get back to all this goddamn work. Jesus fucking Christ. Tomorrow I'm gonna see Planet of the Apes. I'm looking forward to that quite a bit. Plus I might sleep some. That sounds nice too. Goddamn.

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