three a.m.

How about a radio show called "Everything I Never Said."  Not a call-in show for teens to talk about their exes, but things you were too embarrassed or polite to say.  Or something else that’s vaguely topical.  What did you never say?  Deliver the verdict.

Or maybe it should be "Everything You Never Said," and the show could be about trying to guess what other people are thinking.

Or it could be a different title every week, but it has to rhyme.  Weather, trains, and baking bread.  Severed things are never dead.  Ever bang a guy named fred?  etc.

(Some might say) I spend too much time thinking these kinds of thoughts lately.  Obviously, unemployment is good for the imagination.  I remain, at present, King Bum.  But alas, I must find gainful employment in the near future.  I won’t be able to go out and find cool skinks like this one to take pictures of.
He was at Pinnacle Mountain, which is the mountain behind my parents house in Little Rock, Arkansas, for those of you who don’t know (and where I presently reside).  Here is more of said mountain.

Okay, so it’s impossible to lay out photos on the Friendster page so that they look good.  Use your imagination to align stuff.  Someday I’ll pay for a real blog.

So for those of you that haven’t heard, I got a car.  I got a 95 Honda Civic, because they’re so reliable.  The radiator went out while I was moving to Arkansas with my entourage (Mom and Otto), so we got to spend a couple of days in St Clairsville, Ohio, near the West Virginia Border.  Um, don’t go there.  Yeah.

So, not to be a snob, but I’m going to, can someone tell me why Southeast Ohio and Northwest Kentucky are so f’n trashy?  Like, fat people in spandex and tanktops with dirty ponytails and neon sandals trashy.  I know there’s some people from Cincinnati reading this — Represent!

So I bummed around LR for about 3 weeks.  I went and took the Associated Press editing and writing test, and learned how little I know about newswriting.  To be fair, the computer sort of bugged out while I was taking the test, but yeah, I wouldn’t have called me back either.

Anyways.  I went to LA and to Oregon afterwards.  Hear’s the short version.
LA: Beach, sun, $$$ houses, pizza, people in better shape than me, LeAnne’s friends being generous beyond the call of duty, driving, driving, not going to the drum circle with LeAnne, beach, beach, beach.
Oregon: Hippies, bums, economics grad students, moss, good salads, sick, cold beach, Cascades, eustacian tubes blocking up when coming down the Mountains (ouch ouch ouch), waterfalls, sick, Portland, great coffee, canker sores on back of throat (ouch ouch ouch), good beer, Stephen Malkmus drunk.

Check out some pics:
http://new.photos.yahoo.com/zmagicbean/album/576460762312203646#page1

It was like this: