-I am one episode away from finishing the first season of Star Trek: The Next Generation, which will hopefully take me far, far away from that awkward clean-shaven Commander Riker phase. I'm not sure if I really liked this first season. Too awkward. I hope that seasons two and three will take me into the more relaxed, more confident, less Will Wheaton-heavy seasons I know and remember.
-I have an idea for a play or perhaps a sitcom. It's set on earth during The Next Generation. I'm currently calling it "Starfleet Rejects" and I hope that it will answer all the burning questions I have about Star Trek, like, who is left on earth and why? Would it be the rich and connected left on earth or would it be like World War Two in America and only the sickly and old are left? Who works the crappy ass fast food places now that the earth has abandoned all forms of money and work to "better" themselves? Are there any fast food places even left on earth now? What type of music and movies and tv shows do people enjoy on earth? Wouldn't there be LITERAL illegal aliens woking crap jobs on Earth now? And why the hell are there no mexicans is space? The show will be set in a fast food restaurant located right next door to a Starfleet Academy and will feature a crew of mostly Starfleet students waiting on their orders or struggling for the nineteenth time to pass. And maybe one android. Because this is the stuff I wonder. While the Star Trek shows focus so much on what's going on in space I am most interested in what's going on back on earth.
-Here is PROOF that former legendary author William Faulkner WAS Magneto, the master of magnetism ...
-I think a lot about the lawsuit that almost was. You see, after the robbery I was I I started seeing a therapist. After about two years seeing her she tried repeatedly to convince me that I had the basis for a lawsuit due to the hideous treatment I was given after the robbery. And I believed her. It was like a witch hunt over there and I was the witch and it seemed to intensify after the robbery happened. My therapist said that management was taking advantage of my Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome and had placed me in an unfair work environment and that she would gladly go to court to defend me. And I considered it. But I like the company I worked for, not the assholes I directly worked under, and didn't want to burn any bridges. I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I had gone through with the lawsuit and if I would have won. I think I would have won. They treated me like shit over there. I think I would have won.
-Do you know what they gave me after the robbery? Nothing. Nothing but a heavy therapy bill.
-I really miss my family in Arizona. I miss my brother in Arizona. Hell, I just generally miss Arizona. It's to bad that my wife has basically directly said repeatedly that she would never live there because it's "too hot" because I really do see that state as my home and I really do yearn to live there again one day.
-It takes me roughly about 55 minutes to drive from my house to my work. It's an absolutely breathtaking drive but it's also boring as hell. So I spend most of that time rocking out to music on my phone. My music means a lot to me, but since I live "temporarily" with my in-laws, the old white southern baptists that they are, I don't really get too much time besides these long drives to listen to my music.
Here's a few of my recent songs ...
Sum 41: We're All To Blame
Beck: No Fun (from Scott Pilgrim VS The World)
Five Iron Frenzy: My Evil Plan To Save The World
The Rolling Stones: Play With Fire
Jim Carrey: I Am The Walrus
Mark Mothersbaugh: Let Me Tell You About My Boat
The Breeders: Cannonball
Michael Jackson: Another Part Of Me
Soul Asylum: Can't Even Tell
I was going to write more but now I'm feeling really down about myself.
Maybe I'll write more later.