Just another letter I am not going to send. Pain. Suffering. Phoey!

Me: confused because I never asks questions when I’m given an explanation.
I always do this, there is probably nothing wrong but I think too much…

Now I can’t even remember what you said on the phone the other day, but you said something about you not wanting another “L”. I didn’t really know what you meant and I got thinking about it for a while, ending with me writing this letter…

I thought hey, what the fuck then? You want to keep me around, but you don’t want to open up to me? I’m your good friend, but now you can’t let me in any deeper then any other guy is? You can tell me about “L”, but any other part of your life is none of my business?

Yep, I’m being selfish, suspicious and annoyed at probably nothing. Hell, I know you’re "talking" to me, I remember the party on Saturday. And you might be sick of receiving these letters. But something is not right. Something is quite wrong. You don’t want to tell me things anymore, you have no real desire to just come and tell me about your funny, crazy, upsetting or fucked up day, and this gets me all worked up because that is a part of our friendship I place tremendous value on. Not that you have to, but you have suddenly stopped and it freaks me out.

Maybe I should have asked you to spend the day with me instead of you going to Barr Smith, because then we could have talked and I would have been ok. But I didn’t because even though I wanted you to come and rescue me, I’d rather you do your work… we’re year 12s after all. I really did want you to come get me and next time I will ask you to do just that because even though I said no, I really did need you then.

Speaking of year 12, I’m in a time where I need you the most! I really do… and if you are cutting me out in any way at all, you picked a really fucked up time to do it. Then again I guess you can do what you want, and if I mean that little to you then just go ahead, because I’m no fucking Gatsby.

I guess I’m lonely, I think the last time I think I talked to you properly was the day I came over when we were in your house, right before the La Porchetta thing.

I am thinking that we aren’t ever going to go anywhere or hangout again. This is the way my mind works… I can’t cope unless a see a way to solve a problem. Yes, I do want come over your house and drink coffee to do absolutely nothing. I do want to go out in to Adelaide or Salisbury at day or night and fuck around. I do want to go swimming Saturday mornings and set it aside specially, fuck all my obligations, JUST because I want to spend time with you. I want you to come to me with a problem and expect advice…

So if what you’re doing is making sure we don’t do these things anymore, tell me. If you are doing it just because you think I’ll become another “L”, well your philosophy sucks and all you're doing is fucking with my head so stoppit. The reason I am worrying about it is because if you choose to cut me out, I will feel so fucking empty and ALONE.

I know you aren’t going anywhere physically, but come on, who do I want to talk to the most? I don’t want to go anyone else but I will have to if you don’t want to talk to me. It seems more and more that many other guys besides the ones you already talked to are just as good as friends with you as I am and it makes me fucking jealous, just because. You never said I was number 1, but I am jealous because I can’t get the same type of attention they can.

If you appreciate our friendship, show it to me, because I need you. If you don’t want to give me as much anymore, it’s your choice but it hurts. Please don’t place me at a distance, I just want my friend back same as she ever was!


Well I have had a bit of inspiration and am going to node a great deal of my previous work that I have done durring the some odd 5 years of study that I have done. I have a nice paper on ideological tyrany which I am going to add with the proper words highlited. I also have some really nice work on Robert Hooke which I am proud of and other scientists of distinction.

Also I have information on the history of religion in America, and a load of other things including archeology which the database will see.

What distresses me is that there is little information on the major ideological tyranies and their impact on human kind. Ideology especially misguided reformist ideology has played a great deal of havoc in the lives of the inhabitants of the world.

This is important for humanity to understand that as such they should be aware that their choices in the short run affect their lives in the long. A good choice now may be a bad choice later and so on and so on.

I also have some nice suprises and things that should be a refreshing change from all that goes on and add to the richness of something that aspires to be a cultured specemin of everyman's everything.

Onward with the pact. Three huzzas for the pact.

I just got a call from a friend and he told me that our buddy's girlfriend died two days ago. She had hodgkins lymphoma and was taken to the USA for therapy but I guess it did not take.

This is a shock as we thought that she was coming home because the therapy was a success but I guess we thought wrong.

We'll be going to the wake later on and I just don't know what to say to my friend. I guess the gang being there will be enough.

They pretty much kept to themselves while they were still together so I really don't know much about her, but I do feel sorry for my friend whom I know is just going through hell right now, but in the end, we know we're all gonna die, and it's just a matter of time. We should be happy, for her suffering is over, but so too is her life.

I've not written for two weeks now, but you know how long it takes to install Windows! Took me ages to get it back the way I like it. I like everything to be in the right place. A bit like my flat.

It's an old house, quite large, but it's been converted into 3 flats, so my bedroom and lounge have a cavernousness that belies the size of the kitchen/bathroom/utility area squashed into a tiny extension on the back. It's such a relief to have everything where I want it. I look around the room and although I don't like the browness of the decor and the sparseness of the furnishings, knowing that the sofa is exactly where it should be gives me a complete feeling, like finishing a collection or closing a newly restocked pencil case.

There is an emptiness, and a quietness, a sort of inaudible thirsting for more people. I expect it's just that the rooms were designed for a big family or something. Single people shouldn't have coving. It makes the ceilings like lonliness concentrated and enclosed. Strangely the constant music and laughter from the flat upstairs doesn't help. They always seem to be having such a good time. Sometimes I put the TV on, just so that their sound is drowned by sound from further away.

The pictures help sometimes. Not so much the huge submarine that I cut out of a film poster, but more the Salvador Dali piece. Now though, even looking at that, the enormous spaces fill my eyes rather than the pictures between them. It reminds me of something Jillyan said to me when we were at the top of the Eiffel tower. I'd said "Look at the houses, and all those tiny people" and she'd replied "You're one of those tiny people too". I hadn't felt it then, but it rings true, here and now, echos around the spaces in this room. I think I'll go and sit in the kitchen.

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"They call it Stormy Monday..."

#1 sign it's going to be a rough day:
you get to the office only to discover that your underwear is on backwards.

There is only one thing worse than a current roommate... the ex-roommate.

Last Wednesday I had almost $200 sitting in my checking account, money saving up to either buy myself a new car or get my dead car resurrected from the dead. I knew I had enough cash to get the parts necessary for fixing my car, but I was lacking the Internet access required to order the parts. Wireless networking cards are not easy to come by and the one my friend had loaned me was apparently on the blink- we were in the throes of trying to fix that when, wouldn't ya know it, we ended up causing more troubles with his laptop instead. Turns out the problem was with the transmitter here at the cafe and not his wireless card. Oh, well. Live and learn. Anyway... I was expecting to have 'net access within the week, so that money was sitting in my account at the ready.

I worked that day, which was entirely expected and reasonable- I mean, what else was I going to do with my time? So I left work for my 30-minute lunch break, a quick bite to eat at a Tex-Mex place just around the corner from the movie theater I work at. I phoned in my order, not a penny in my pocket, but plenty of cash in the bank, right? Well, my check card got declined... twice. Fuming (because I knew I wouldn't have time to find out what was wrong with my account and get lunch), I headed straight for my bank. Threw my card into the ATM, not discounting the possibility that I might be at the most $20/$40 in the hole for some unforseen reason. Imagine my fury with I saw: $-681.37

I stalked into the bank with a look on my face that might have scared small children, had any been present. I looked like I wanted to rip the place apart, brick by miserable brick, which is fitting because I felt like it. I'm one of those guys who, when you look at them, doesn't usually give much away when it comes to his emotions, on a physical level. But when I'm pissed, oh man, that comes across like a gunshot- facially, that is. The receptionist was on the phone with someone else when I walked in and she wasn't really looking at me, so she just waved to me that it'd be just a moment. I stood there like a statue, in front of her with a glowering, wrathful gaze in my eyes. She glanced up at me and it looked like she'd been struck by lightening. She was a little more sincere about signaling that she would be just a moment, that I was at the top of her list of people to address next. She hung up the phone some 30 seconds later.

"How can I help you?" she asked timidly.

"I woke up this morning with a well-over-positive balance in my account. It now reads that I'm missing more than $850, my former balance calculated in. Who can tell me what gives?"

She glanced over her shoulder at the bank manager, gave him some unseen signal that I needed help- pronto. It was such a subtle gesture that I almost didn't catch it, like a body-language way of saying, "Code red! Code red! We've got a pissed customer here and he has a legit gripe! Help!"

The bank manager launched his middle-aged carcass through his office door, waving me in. "Right this way, sir. How can I be of assistance?" I explained the situation to him, that I wanted answers- quickly- and identified myself by name and account number (I have that sorta stuff memorized... you never know when your name will come in handy and it's a good thing to memorize). "Certainly, sir. Let's check the computer real quick." He asked me to repeat my account number, fed it into his idiot box and when the screen with my info popped up, he started going, "Hmm... um-hm... oh..."


He turned the monitor to face me, so I could clearly see the screen. They must go through months of training to do that in a non-annoying way, those bank managers. "Well, you see these codes here next to the transactions? C-K means 'check', C-C means 'check card' and so on. See that G-A?"

"Yeah." In a short burst of pure idiocy I was wondering who had made transactions in Georgia with my account.

"Well, it went through this morning. It means 'garnishment.' Someone's garnished your account for a grand total of... $866."

I didn't dispense with how or why or anything so mundane. I got straight to the point: "Who?"

"Beg pardon?"

"Who took my money?" I asked with clipped tones. "Find out. Now."

"Well, that could take a few minutes...."

"Listen, sir, I'm on my break. I am also missing almost a grand. I have no problem with telling my employers to wait a bit longer than expected over this shit. Find out who it is. Supply me with that and leave it up to me as to the why. Okay? For a thousand dollars of money that I never had, I'm willing to wait as long as it takes. One thing is certain: I haven't gotten any notices about a garnishment. This is news, bad news, to me. I want to know whose doorstep I should bring this to, should it prove wrong."

The bank manager eyed me for a second, saw that I was serious as a heart attack and nodded. "Okay..." and he picked up the phone. Two phone calls and five minutes later, he looked up at me. "Does the name 'EB Raskin Company' ring any bells? 'Cause they're the ones who pushed the garnishment. Apparently, they've sued you for $791 and we tacked on a $75 processing fee which brought it up to $866."

By the time he'd coughed up the name, I knew what was up. Raskin was an old apartment company I used to rent from. Many, many moons ago I had a roommate who was a starving artist type. Eventually he couldn't afford the rent, and I couldn't pay all of it on my own, so we'd been evicted. They sued us for the remainder of the lease agreement, two months' worth of money, and got us into court. Correction: my name was on the lease, so they took me to court. I paid my half of what was owed on the court date with the understanding that my roommate would come up with the money shortly thereafter. That was three years ago. I guess they got tired of waiting for his share of the debt, so they took the only legal action available and sued the only person on the lease- me.

"So, is the garnishment legitimate? Are you responsible?" the bank manager asked me.

"Legally?" I asked. "Yeah. Morally? No. But I know who is. Thank you for your help in this. I'll see what I can do to get the money ASAP." The short story is that my bank basically bought my debt to Raskin. The garnishment would go through on the 26th of this month, which is far too soon for me to come up with the money. My goose is cooked.

I called my former roommate and gave him the news.

"Aw, man! I am so sorry about that! I completely forgot about it. How can I make it up to you?"

"I appreciate your apology, thank you. As for how you can make it up to me... I know you are not that dense, my friend. This is a thousand-dollar fix and we both know it."

I expected him to give me some song and dance about that being impossible, but he surprised me. "I don't have the money, I'll be honest with you. But I will do everything in my power to get it as quickly as I can. Come by the cafe tonight and I'll give you everything I have on hand. I'll keep making payments to you until it's paid."

I didn't ask how he was going to come up with the money. I simply told him that I would meet him and hung up. I had to get back to work. My stomach lurched in hunger and I silently cursed the fact that I didn't have any money with which to buy even a Big Mac.

One of my co-workers was nice enough to buy me lunch that day, which is terribly kind of him and he has earned my eternal gratitude for that selfless gesture. My ex-roommate coughed up $80 that night, 1/10 of what's needed, and I had a client pay me another $100 on the web design he hired me for. Payday is this coming Wednesday and I am praying that they didn't garnish my wages as well. For now, it is all I can do to keep calm and not throttle the neck of the one person who put me in this horrible predicament- simply because if I choke him to death, I'll never get that money back.

When life gives you lemons, turn it into lemonade, give the person(s) responsible 1,000 tiny paper cuts, throw the lemonade all over them and demand some fucking apple juice. Then ask for a refund.

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