May 29, 2003
I apologize for the delay in the journal update but it's really hard to find a PC in Hell much less one with internet access. I think they keep them all locked up somewhere behind the lake of fire around the corner from the Taco Bell on Hitler Avenue. Luckily for me my room mate, Gil has a WebTV. People here don't share. So, I had to wait until Gil left to go to the Laundry Mat to clean his bedspread made of snake heads to use his web account. These people here are so stupid, they should share. I hear sharing is one of the ways to get out of here. That and knowing all of the words to any Osmond song. They want nothing to do with Mormons here. Oddly enough they love Scientologists, go figure... Well, Ed's doing just fine. Right now he's working on his tan, either that or he's refreshing the puss and ooze in his pillow cases. Well, I have to run, and go share and try to recall some Osmond lyrics. Right now all I can remember is, "I'm a little bit country, I'm a little bit rock and or slash roll".
Peace, John
June 9, 2003
On the way home from my daily torture session (or the "David Spade film festival" as I like to call it) I stumbled across an electric fan. An electric fan! I mean an actual fan that blows air, (not a robot who likes Blendre music). It's really hot here, and not a dry heat either. Sooooo, a fan would come in very handy to cool things off. I sneak this fan into my apartment. Thinking wow maybe things won't be so bad if I have a fan. Well, get this, just as soon as I plug it in, and get it going, the phone rings and it's the prince of darkness's secretary, Barbara on the other end telling me that it's against the rules to use a fan to cool me off. Unless, I was going to use it to push someone's fingers or face into it I wouldn't be allowed to keep it. I said well thanks a lot Barbara Kiljoy (I wasn't being sarcastic her last name is Kiljoy, she's married to Gary Kiljoy) and hung up the phone in a huff. So, now I'm so disgusted with this fan that I can't wait for Gil to get home so I can push his fingers into it. Hopefully, I'll be able to enjoy the breeze it makes while it's chopping his digits into a suitable salad topping.
Peace, John
