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carocrow posted this in a comment to my last post. It's just about too good to be true, but the guy sounds for real. First, listen to the voice mail. And then read the story.

XP Service Pack 2 is obnoxious as FUCK. I installed the new security updates, and now I'm getting the restart dialog box every two seconds. I'll restart when I'm ready, OK?

I'm gonna be tearing my hair out today trying to get things ready to be away for jury duty next week. I'd almost rather they did it at night or on the weekends. It's not that I mind missing work so much, just that I hate getting things in order first.

Yale installed new and improved spam filters, and now I'm getting more spam than before. One yesterday was telling me how to get "girls who are crazy to have sex with you." Thanks, I really needed to hear that girls would have to be crazy to have sex with me.

I watched the Metallica documentary Some Kind of Monster last night. I hadn't planned to get anywhere near it because I thought it would be some sort of self-aggrandizing filth like the movie they showed before their "Evening with Metallica" shows on the Black Album tour. (I think I've mentioned that I walked out of that show in disgust and have hated Metallica ever since.) Anyway, Dan at work told me that I should really see it because it's actually a good movie--and he doesn't like Metallica or any sort of metal. So I checked it out, and yeah, it's quite fascinating. It's so weird to see these formerly scuzzy guys

WELL FUCK MY COCK. I walked away for my computer for five minutes and it automatically restarted. Semagic saved a draft of this post, but I wasn't so lucky with the Word document I was working on. Great bolshy yarblockos to that.

Anyway. As I was saying . . . I loved Metallica in the mid-to-late '80s, and one of the things that was so great about them is that they were so no-bullshit. Now they're amassing and liquidating huge collections of art, grooming themselves, and hiring one of those weird performance-enhancement coaches who counsel sports teams. And the interpersonal dynamics are wild to watch. James Hetfield is kind of an idiot asshole, Kirk Hammett is a wuss, and Lars Ulrich is a huge douchebag, so the whole thing makes for some interesting train wrecks. Worth seeing.

I wonder how many times Cliff Burton has turned over in his grave knowing what Metallica's become.

(no subject)

GRACK. I just got the "crazy to have sex with you" spam again. This time it was from Printout L. Poontooning. And Sarah just called me a ho again.

(no subject)

I think I'm being stalked.

I walked outside for lunch, and on the sidewalk by my car was this woman, probably not a day under, say, 42--big wall of black, frizzy hair, red eye makeup smeared all over like something out of a new wave video, and wearing a fucking SCHOOLGIRL outfit, and the crazy wind was blowing her skirt all up. So of course I started fumbling in my jacket for my camera. But she was staring me down like whoa, so I got spooked and got in the car.

Went out. Ran some errands. Got lunch. Came back and parked on a different street, got out of the car, and there's Trixie again, and she's giving me the cocktail eye. I didn't even reach for my camera this time, mang--just scooted across the street like a bat out of hell. I looked back and she was still staring me down and sorta rubbing her belly or something. If she's still out there when I leave tonight, I'm gonna call for a police escort.

People are endlessly entertaining, yet often incredibly fearsome.