so sad i forgot to cry

Apple

pros:

- tastes good
- aesthetically pleasing
- crunchy
- local

cons:

- threatens you with cancer if you don't provide it with sponge bath
- mom makes big deal about leaving too much flesh on the core

Banana

pros:

- $0.29/lb

cons:

- difficult to eat in entirety without vomiting

Did either of the readers of this blog have a fruit fly infestation about a year or so ago? If so, any tips for getting rid of them? I've got a pretty bad one. IN MY CAR!! I finally found and removed the source, so is it just a matter of waiting out their pathetic little life cycle?

For anyone interested in the source: I don't want to talk about it. Let's just say it was geeeeeeeeross.

Guerrillas, by V. S. Naipaul

Guerrillas, by V. S. Naipaul, like Corelli's Mandolin, is set on an island. But unlike Corelli's Mandolin, where the characters feel things with passion and make great sacrifices and play mandolins, the characters in this book are deeply apathetic and are unable to affect their own behaviour and fail to play any musical instruments whatsoever.

I quite liked this novel. I told my mother and her man not to bother reading it because its narrative theme isn't identical to The Fountainhead and will therefore be offensive to them.

8/10

I was joking with a friend last night that I had come down with the anxiety because I bought a new mp3 player but I was worried that I might have fucked up the battery. But then after we got off the phone I tried to nerd new firmware into it and the thing fucking blue screened so I had to figure out how to fix it until 1:45am. Then I woke up at 4:45 am with the profound feeling that something was very, very wrong, and my first thought was where's my mp3 player, and why is it not strapped to my deeply aching body. It took me a minute or two to emerge from my sleep stupor and realize that the problem wasn't that my mp3 player was missing, but that I was in severe physical discomfort. To simply call it "indigestion" seems grossly unfair to the 4:45 - 7am version of myself who nearly lost his resolve to persevere.

But eventually the culprit turned the corner, and I finally expelled him a couple of hours ago, thank god.

I told Old Kleenex Headphones that I had a crush on my new mp3 player, and he asked if it was a "hardware hard-on", which I found rather vulgar, because it's not like that at all, it's a crush: I think it's cute and I wonder what it's doing right now and I'm all excited about giving it a ride home. My dick, for once, has nothing to do with it.