Well, here I am, about to start my trip, staying up much too late of course, but hey, no sleep will make the hard floor of the Nevada desert seem that much more comfortable.  Either that or I'll pass out soon enough not to care.  I will try to post my happenings on here as the trip progresses, I'm sure the hotels will offer free internet service, most of them do now a days.  Fancy technology.  Of course, with the moderating influence of the parents, the postings may be more event-based then the crazy stuff that rampages through my head when I can't sleep at night.  Hell, I may even update this thing during the day!  That doesn't happen to often.  Of course, as I leave, I can't help but wonder what will go down while I'm gone, which is odd, because at the same time I know that nothing will change.  Nothing ever does.  This leaves me to contemplate things in my life, and give me a starting point.  It's not as positive as you might think, it's more like starting all over.  But it's all good, not like I ever get that far anyway.  I may put up some voice recordings in the next few weeks, if I can find something that I think is interesting enough to waste that much bandwidth.  I will have my phone with me, if anyone is curious as to how I am doing.  So after a nice romp through Vegas, the redwoods, and San Francisco, it's back here for a week or two, and then I'm off to college.  It will be fun, but it's also so far away from some people who are very important to me.  Always next summer of course.  We can still say that for a few years, until people stop coming home.  El Paso will always be home, there is no denying it.  So much of my life has happened here, where else would I call home?  Maybe the internet.  I do troll around there a lot, but it just doesn't have a good enough sound system to be considered home.  Also, keyboards aren't as comfortable as beds, although there is probably someone out there working on a way to remedy that.  Well, I guess I could get some sleep, so it's time for some nice relaxing music and a cigarette by the window.  Once the super luckies come around, it's all over.  Until next summer probably.  That seems to come up a lot.  Next summer.  Oh well.

Fifty ways to leave your lover.

Ah yes, committing crimes in one's own house, truly there is nothing greater to be accomplished then pulling something off where you always are, and being the first person that would be suspected were any incriminating evidence to surface. And now here I sit, reveling in my achievement. A good night all around, good weather, good company, and not a person in sight in my house. Empty as it should be. Free to do as I please, and be as loud as I want, I strut through the halls with a certain note of confidence. Power resides here. Owning walls, that is the key. If you have a place of your own, you already years ahead of most people. I put a lot of work in today, and most of it was of no consequence. Cleaned the pool on the slight chance that someone will want to take a dip. Offered food in case anyone was hungry. Got along with everyone, even though not everyone remains now. It's not very surprising, just a bit disappointing. Tonight was my last night with Tim, and it was a good one. Through the best of times, and the gayest of times (all the time), Tim will always be there, a good time wrapped in a white shirt. I will miss him a great deal, damn these vacations, always getting in the way of things, ruining weeks of doing nothing together everyday by taking you to some other place in the country that is just as hot as it is here, and wander around taking pictures of things you'll never see again, but for some reason simply must remember. Good old photography, where would your eye-brain nerve be without it? No where, that's where, because you wouldn't have a map, because maps are based off of satellite photography. Schooled you. Now hold still while I gas you.

Alright, so as you all may or may not know, I have recently entered the Video Marquee stolen from Hollywood market.  These sales went rather well, and I was sitting on a large, neat pile of six hundred and thirty-two dollars.  Of course, after shipping and taking care of everything, I had a nice even amount of four hundred bucks of nothing but profit.  A bit of work done, but still, good time and profit.  Lady luck would continue to smile on me these next few days, the newfound money that could now be spent was finally available.  So I put it in a casino, and before I know it, I'm making hundred dollar bets and was winning, winning big time, this was a streak.  I have nine hundred dollars. Nine hundred dollars.  All profit.  I could help some friends keep their theater going, I could pay my bills, and I could get myself a little something nice to celebrate.  But then a bad hand, no big deal, just play another to get it back.  Dealer gets twenty.  Another hand, no insurance, double down with a nice eleven.  Dealer Blackjack when I have twenty-one.  The casino had turned on me, and I knew it in my gut.  But no, I was up there, I could fly that high again, no problem, just set a nice lower limit.   Alright, so I'm passed the limit, so I'll just get it back up to the limit and then pull out.  Losing hand.  Losing hand.  A winning hand to lift my spirits, but unfortunately right after I lowered my bet, and was no better off because of it.  Finally I blink as the last twelve dollars are placed on a decent hand, end up with a fourteen.  The dealer, a twenty-one.  A final slap in the face as my balance now read a meager fifty cents.  Not even enough for the slots.  Nine hundred dollars and I blew it.  I am now exactly where I was before I sold these signs, a little more mentally unstable, but the exact same place.  So basically I had something to do for a few weeks.  And now I can go on vacation and forget about it.  Had I another four hundred, I would have walked right back in there.  But no.  It could not be so.  It's gone.  And now I'm here, with no less money, except for a little less time to make it back.  It's all ups and downs my friends.  All ups and downs.  I'm still not sure how I feel about all of this, only that I wanted everyone to know, because it is something that I have to deal with, and something that I can't change, no matter how much I wish it so.  But alas, money is nothing, a mere triviality with nice little numbers written on them, telling us how much we are all really worth.  It will happen again, but this time there will be failsafes in place.  And they will hold.  And if not, no big deal.  The key is you never wager what you can't afford to lose.  And I can afford to lose it all, because no matter what, I'll still always have what I really need.  That will always be there.  So money is nothing if it is not to comfort what I really need and making them feel special.  As long as you have that and your dreams, no dead president can tell you what your worth. 

Ah midsummer, the worst time of the year.  Nothing happens, the heat pounds you into the ground and then sprinkles delicious rain on your head, only to bring the sun out again and instantly boil the water, scalding your precious few hair follicles into giving up and dropping your giant dome hat of hair onto the floor.  This is the time of low expectations, and even lower results.  No change, lots of routine, tediously uncatalogable amounts of boredom, and the occasional wild night of partying.  On the plus side, I recently spent a very enjoyable few hours with good friends of mine constructing a monster box.  It walked, it talked, but it couldn't quite stand up under it's own power.  Nevertheless, there was a crappy box I was proud to call my own.  Some funny looks and some cigarettes outside of Kinko's later, and it was on it's way to the happy buyer.  And the whole process would begin again the next day.  Oh well, 3 hours of work on a free box for two hundred bucks, that seems worth it to me.  Ebert Wholesales continues to thrive.  So yeah, until this midsummer slump wears off, or I go on vacation (which will probably happen first) I'm not so sure there will be all that much of interest here, but hey, maybe I can fake some pictures of us putting together that box so you can have a look at that.

Ugh. You know what I hate? The post office. It's not so much the actual place, or the people that work there, as it is the people who stand in line. And bitch. And bitch. And then complain some. Then bitch some more. If you don't like it there, then leave, no one ever said that we really need you to send 14 packets of Taco Bell Mild Sauce to the Middle East, because I'm pretty sure that they already have some pretty spicy food over there. If anyone knows where I can get a nice big box of an odd shape, give me a holler, because I would really like to know. Until then I am stuck with two signs taking up valuable space in my garage. And now I'm off to buy myself a voice recorder, and maybe from now on you'll be able to listen to me instead of having to kill your eyes reading these tiny little insignificant words. Excellent.

So here we are. The end of a few days of unrest here. Several things have happened. The repair of the Jeep, only to have it get stuck in a rescue attempt that very night, the return to a state of disrepair as whatever we did underneath there loses it's ultra strong duct tape seal and begins to wildly undulate around the road again, a bunch of awkward moments, some funny jokes that no one got, and too much time spent at the airport. And after it all, a profound feeling has come over me. I have arrived at two theories, and either one could be correct. One, I am getting wierder, or two, I am nearing a hysterical breakdown. Uncontrollable laughing has been fun in the past, but these situations aren't even always funny, some are just downright sad. And as I drive through this hellish furnace of a city, nothing washes over me. No joy, no sadness. It is just sort of in the middle. It could of course be the three hours of sleep I'm running on, after weeks of falling into tiny pieces on the bed when the sun comes up, or it could be the fact that I had too many cigarettes today. Then again, you wake me after three hours, and I'm going to have to pump my brain full of something to stay conscious, and nicotine seems to work a bit worse then caffeine. I've also discovered that I really like matches. The ones from the US are okay, but the real good matches are in Mexico. Nothing but pure sulfur, the dangerous kind, so powerful you could light them on a stick of butter. Just don't inhale the fumes. In fact, try not to breath any of the air while your here. It will make the time go by much faster. Anyway, I get the feeling everyone around here is walking on eggshells, and I'm not sure why. It might have something to do with theory number two up there. Just to calm everyone's nerves, NO ONE WILL BE SPARED! NO ONE! So no one has to really worry, because you'll all get it in the end anyway. I love this show. Seriously though, I'm fine, just need to get back into the swing of things. And not go crazy. There is probably room on the list for both.

I'm on to you internet. You can't trick me, I don't want to pay for things in Canadian dollars. To whoever has been hacking the Gibson on my eBay account, I will catch you. You can't stop me from turning my employment at Hollywood and all the glorious fringe benefits that it entails into a tidy profit to make me feel better after working for hours on end only to be yelled at for something I didn't do. If I'm going to steal a movie, I'll do it over the internet anonymously thank you very much. Ah well, employment is a thing of the past, I am far too busy failing at being a professional gambler. And a copyright pirate. And the world's greatest lover. Well, I guess we can't fail at everything. Haha, I'm so alone. If anyone out there is searching for a great deal on some RAM, check this out. Despite certain tiny nay-sayers, it is indeed a good deal, and I will gladly safely drive my car over to your house and prove it. So there. Show me no regard will you, well I'll show you something! Or maybe I won't. There in lies the game gentlemen. Now I simply have to wait for her to crack like so much melty ice below my mighty... Birkenstock... with a boot attachment! Yeah, for stomping! If only I could drive with these. Damn, defeated again! Ah well, it's all good. Now to pull a feat unmatched by anyone, well, by me anyway. I will go to sleep before the sun comes up. Not for any good reason mind you, but I've simply run out of things to say. Alright so you caught me, I've decided to fix myself a bit. Run out of things to say, couldn't even keep a straight face on that one. Well anyone, Bon Voyage fair dreamers, I shall be in your dreams to annoy you tonight. And tomorrow. And the next day. Oh, wait one second, there seems to be an angry mob of well rested people outside. It's such a nice night, I think I'll just go out the window.