about the talking fish

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Writer. Wheelman. Occasional DIY mechanic. Walking collection of hang-ups. Hopeless romantic. Old-school. Analog soul in a digital world. I am all of these things and more.

Monday, December 29, 2003

The sickness that afflicts me every time I go on vacation rears its ugly head again.

Yes, I am bored.

After getting sick of playing Gran Turismo 2, watching Initial D's first season for the umpteenth time, and reading my back issues of Autocar Asean equally as many times, I wound up bored.

So bored, in fact, that I woke up this morning thinking about starting the shooting script for our feature-video thesis. So far I've gotten the intro montage done, I guess, which is just one scene.

Better to have something done than nothing at all, methinks.
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Our house seems to have all these little annoying quirks recently.

Besides the irritating piss-inducing cold of late, we've also been unwitting mosquito fodder. Just this morning I had to walk through a small swarm of them flittering outside our front door. Where are the ever-present lizards when you need them?

There's also this awful canal stench arising from the back. I have no idea why it's there. Let me just say the stench makes the full-on smell of Lysol all the more aromatic.

And have I mentioned the non-stop fart of the chainsaw making chop suey out of this old tree at the church across the street? I have to put up with it every morning these days...

Well, at least we don't get floods...that's always good.

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