"This is what I'm doing? I've flown across the country, blown the money and the carbon credits, to get wiggy in a bar in Mirvish Village? This is heavy. This is supposed to be a work trip! Where are the contacts? Where are the literary dinners and book store visits? What do these fucking lights want with my soul? I...need some air, I feel extremely unusual."
You will never, ever have a weekend like this one, so put down the Hunter Thompson novel, get a bottle of Wild Turkey, go dig your credit card out of the block of ice you've frozen it into, and buy this zine
. Read it, remember it. Easy.
Man, I was thinking about unrequited love. I figure it's best to just walk that shit off. Find someone else to be excited about. It's like if you love ice cream but your ice cream man friend won't give you any. Maybe he's got a good reason. It cuts into profits. Who knows? But he likes you as a friend and wants to hang out anyway. It just drives you crazy to hang out with that dude, even if he's being reasonable from his point of view. So don't hang out with him. What, you ONLY like ice cream? It's ice cream or nothing? Don't be an asshole. Learn to love donuts.