Catatonic Blabber

I'm caught between I don't care and get off my case.  Never thought I'd be in this kind of stump.  Not sure if everyone's been in this state.  You know, that state when you seem to be just lying in a couch staring straight ahead not really caring whether something happens or not.  I don't know if this is apathy or getting stoned without the benefit of weed.  It's not half-bad but it doesn't seem right. 

One should always be able to feel something– pain or joy or any other form of emotion.  I'm not feeling sad or anything but I'm not jumping for joy either.  If I have a color today, it would be silver gray.  Perhaps I should try Sherlock Holmes' 7 percent solution, see if it takes me off this funk.  But I hate needles and scoring a joint is way too much hassle. 

I really should have taken a handful of pot and preserved it in a time capsule somewhere.  Lord knows we have mountains of grass back in high school.  Those were the days when I first heard of Ginsberg's Howl and my band of misfits were shaving their heads.  I knew it would come in handy for days like these.

Perhaps I should just post a picture of manang.  That would be a hoot.  But then again that would be me starting the year as a prick.  I usually reserve my prick-ly days in the middle of the year, that way I have the second semester trying to atone for my boorish behavior.  Anyway it's too early to be acting the fool. 

Now some headhunters are calling after I posted my resume two nights ago when I was bored out of my skull.  I knew it was a bad idea, but heck at least it somehow appeased my need to feel relevant for a bit. 

While I was on vacation, my naive SO asked me how some girls could afford to sleep with a variety of men.  This after learning that a very single mother we know is again pregnant, this time with another guy.  The idea was revolting to her.  Oh well that's old school breeding for you.  She has yet to come to grips with the idea that some ladies like to spread their legs around, just like some guys enjoy sowing their wild oats on any willing field. Again there's the question of relevance there.  Some guys get their kicks from being summoned to an interview while some get theirs by getting laid.

Enough with this nonsense.