Creative Writing class journal from 17 November 1993:

My Lovely’s Chicken Bodice.

Arf! my dear. I adore your chicken bodice, it so flatters your eyes. The feathers are soft and white and heavenly. How do they adhere to you like that? Forgive me for so saying, but the way they wrinkle and come up and around and connect at the beak, with the eyes symmetrically placed, well… it seems to magnify your bosom. Oh, don’t blush, madam, I am only being complimentary. I am not always looking at your bosom, no, but an occasional glance now and then… well it is rather quite extraordinary seeing as how you have just the one. Oh, I’m not denying that, my dear… no, it would not be gentlemanly of me to suggest that you have only one nipple. What? You have two? Really. That’s even more extraordinary. Two nipples on the same breast! Hmm… is it one on either side? Vertically! They’re arranged vertically? I don’t believe that! Slip out of that chicken bodice, my lovely, and let me see for myself.

Daily Hey Magic Number: 37

Creative Writing class journal entry from 25 October 1993:

This is a journal entry. It contains whimsical insights into various issues throughout history and throughout the world. Today’s issue concerns journal entries.

Now, I will begin a new paragraph and attempt to be witty and clever in my response to the issue of journal entries.

Journal entries are cool, but sometimes they make me want to set my desk on fire.

Ah. Whimsy. There is nothing quite like it. However, the topic of whimsy would make for an entirely separate journal entry. Now, I shall continue to make casual, humorous observations about journal entries.

Boy, some journal entries, such as this one, sure are a pain in the butt!

Note that I included references to anatomy and physical displeasure. Allusions to these often are indicative of witty humor. But this entry is not about humor. It is about journal entries. And now it’s over.

Daily Hey Magic Number: 39

Creative Writing class journal entry from 11 October 1993:

My Wonderful Homecoming Experience.

My weekend started off on a lovely note as the football team came to an exciting yet entertaining loss. It’s as though the other team was toying with our minds when they let us score those touchdowns.

Then, the next afternoon, I went to the grocery store to buy Dining Materials, and ended up buying many Tabloid Magazines simply because they had Shannen Doherty on the Cover. Then I went to Chris Harmon’s house, where we cooked dinner by giving everything to his mother and saying, “Make this smell good.” Then, we picked up our dates and came back and ate dinner, during which the conversation topic switched to enemas, after which I went into the family room and passed out.

After renting the movie “Vasectomy!” for after-dance entertainment, we went to the dance, where I tripped over the tarp more than I actually danced. I consumed a lot of punch, because they played a lot of country music. However, fortunately, I did not get blue balls this year.

Daily Hey Magic Number: 40

It begins.

Daily Hey Magic Number: 42

The world is knocking me about with boxing gloves lately. What’s up with that? I don’t even have my mouth guard in.

Can you at least wait for me to put my fucking mouth guard in, world?

Grrrr!

I am sorry. I appear to be feral at the moment.

In response to my crabbing about the previous issue (the gas fiasco) over in Delphiforumland, a very nice person named Rachel Young offered me this on my forum in order to cheer me up:

That was very sweet of her.

English class journal entry from 26 December 1992:

It’s 6:45 A.M. Ten minutes ago I threw up on my bedroom floor. I woke up and felt my stomach compressing and expanding and my esophagus swelling. I jumped out of bed to find the bathroom, but I didn’t quite make it.

There is now a stain, a pool, a puddle of drying barf in my carpet. Lord, did it taste horrible. It smells like bad ham. Probably what was left of Christmas dinner. My journal was right here and it was already open so I just decided to write this. But I am going back to sleep so I can wake up in a few hours. I’ll probably barf again but I don’t mind because it makes me feel better.

English class journal entry from 28 December 1992:

I barfed three more times on Saturday. The second two times were watery and tasteless but the fourth time tasted like saltines. It happened right after I finished taking a shower. I felt weak, stumbled out of the shower, and put my face in the toilet. It was pretty cool, because I was lying on the floor, naked, cold, and wet, waiting for reverse peristalsis to occur. And when it did, damn! I must have been puking for twenty minutes. And all I had eaten was crackers.

Yesterday I spent as an invalid, but I’m all better now. *urp* Uh… excuse me. I think I’m going to baaaAAAAOOORCH!!! plop plop

English class journal entry from 7 December 1992:

I’m going crazy!! I’m going crazy!! Who am I kidding?? I am crazy!!! AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[unintelligible scribblings]

Can I lift my head up from the desk now? Someone tell me this is all just a bad dream… My head hurts, probably a result of wisdom teeth, pimples, and some bizarre psychological problem that no one has figured out yet. I don’t even have a reason to be crazy on this particular day, other than the fact that I never get anything I want to do accomplished. Except for STEALING CHALK. Just kidding.

[Author's note: "STEALING CHALK" written on page with stolen chalk.]

English class journal entry from 8 December 1992:

Is there something wrong with stealing chalk? Well, not morally. Chalk isn’t necessary to sustain life like, say, intestines, and the school always has more chalk. Not to say that the school doesn’t always have more intestines, but dammit, I’m not talking about the cafeteria. I’m talking about MORALS, here. MORALS. That’s what it’s all a question of.

For instance, it would be morally wrong to pull Joe’s hair. That didn’t stop me from doing it, however. In retaliation though he pulled my hair which hurt but is morally OK. He doesn’t seem to realize that by pulling his hair, I’ve released harmful gases into the atmosphere that will kill birds.

English class journal entry from 31 August 1992:

Good morning. It’s 9:00 and it’s time for the Amazing Adventures of Captain Bluenut McFrog!!

To pick up where we left off… Captain Bluenut McFrog was being held captive by the giant Nazi aliens of the planet Skenhed, who had him dangling from a rope above a gigantic vat of chicken broth, threatening to turn him into crackers. Here’s today’s episode!

Tension was building and Bluenut could feel the steam on his face. Suddenly, he had an idea!! He hocked a big loogie and spat into the chicken broth, splattering the boiling substance upon the surprised Skenhedians, killing them as surely as they would have killed Captain Bluenut McFrog.

Since all the Skenhedians were dead, Bluenut was trapped hanging above the vat. Soon, he died of starvation because he could not quite reach the chicken broth. In a few months he began to decay. His limbs eventually dissolved, and he was free! There was nothing restraining him.

You’re free, Captain McFrog! Go, Bluenut, go! Free, but dead. Isn’t that a metaphor for our government today?

I have added some new faces to the roster of rotating characters that appear in the space at the top left corner of the page, and I modified a couple of the existing ones to improve their artistic quality. If you would like to take a look at the full roster of faces, I have made it available here, although it loses some of its magic when you see them all together like that. If my energy ever again matches my ambition I’ll put in larger versions of the graphics and notes on the characters depicted in the drawings. Presently, however, it is what it is. And yes, I’m aware the ratio of females to males is just absolutely shameless. Nevertheless, enjoy!

After my last entry, I got to thinking about how I wasn’t really keeping any of my other resolutions, so why should I keep the one to make 365 Daily Heys in the year 2002? To give myself some reassurance, I shall review my list from January 1:

I resolve to make it a habit to go to bed much earlier than I generally did throughout 2001 (and most of my natural life, for that matter).

Not a chance. If anything, I’ve gotten worse.

I resolve to keep my trash/dishes/laundry situations on a much tighter leash than I have in the past.

It is uncertain on quantifiable terms whether I have stuck to this one or not; but I do seem to clean my apartment more than I used to. Which is not to say that the apartment is, on average, cleaner.

I resolve to let food go bad less frequently, or at least not feel as guilty about it when it does.

I have moldy cheese in the fridge and moldy donuts(!) on my kitchen counter, and I don’t feel bad about it at all.

I resolve to finish unpacking from when I moved in fifteen months ago.

Well, I still have six more months to do this.

I resolve to decorate the walls of my bedroom with tasteful posters and prints, because them walls are lookin’ bare.

As above.

I resolve to soup up my desktop computer so that it becomes a multimedia supermonster.

This is certainly on my agenda. I am simply waiting for a fiscal solvency that may never come…

I resolve to stop buying so many damned comic books.

Starting next week, I promise!

I resolve to use various pieces of exercise equipment to give myself rock-hard abs, or something to that effect.

Hmm… well, my weight has stabilized. That’s something.

I resolve to go to a dentist.

Oh, yeah. Gotta do that.

I resolve that I will take the next step in figuring out what I want to do with my life and how to proceed in that general direction.

Done. Applied to graduate school, will be matriculating in the fall.

I resolve to allow people to read my novel.

Also done. Although the novel still needs work.

I resolve that I will have read the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy before the second part hits the big screen.

It’s still possible.

I resolve to get my damned eye fixed, because it be buggin’ Sandy out.

I never got my eye “fixed”, as apparently there was nothing to “fix”, but I did get it checked out.

I resolve to spend at least half an hour per day drawing.

Much more difficult than it sounds.

I resolve that I will make 365 Daily Hey entries in the year 2002, even if it means I have to write 100 entries on December 31 in order to catch up.

I guess we’ll see. Looks like I’ve stuck to a good many of my resolutions. Let’s see how many I can break before the year ends.

The above headline is the error message I have been receiving all week. I suppose it is a mixed blessing, as it has left the entry about my parents’ anniversary up at the top long enough so that my parents have surely looked at it by now. And certainly I have needed a break. But steps are being taken to return this blog to normal service, making all stops between downtown and the airport. Please stand clear of the doors. Por favor, manténganse alejado de las puertas. Smoking, littering, and loud devices are not permitted. Soliciting on CTA trains is prohibited. Violators will be arrested.

Frankly, I can’t be arsed.

Frankly, I can’t be bothered.