1:15 AM, June 28th.
Planet of the BULLSHIT.

I can admit it, I have a Tim Burton problem. There is a twelve step program trying to rid me of my addictive love of his usually fun-house style of film production. It seems someone has informed Timmy of my problem and he is trying to help get me over it by making movies that suck. I suppose the whole film wasn't total trash, I can watch Tim Roth for hours, but his special breed of icy villany was charismatically repressed under a 7 hour load of makeup. I will say this for the film though, there is this little side romance with a chimp and Markie Wahlberg that pulled at me. I need to find a nice simian(sp) girl and settle down with some cross breed kids. Query: Where does a slave girl find razors to shave with on a planet of APES? I do not have the answer at this time. There was this nice fight scene with the lead ape (Tim Roth) and Mark (spaceman) Wahlberg wherein I thought old Markie was gonna get a nice skull fucking from that mean little chimp...didn't happen though *sigh*.

On a personal note, just got an IM from someone that I haven't heard from in ages. This girl...Angie I think her name was. Half oriental. Never know what to say to those acquaintence types besides current-event type front page bullshit. Never know what to ask except "How is things going with you?" Truly a conversational genius.

And I was thinking about this woman I know, Mariah. One of those personality deficient (pardon the expression) people that makes you curious from an empathy standpoint. Someone so deviated from my typical patterns and those of people who I have intimate understanding of that you have to ask the trite bullshit questions like "what do they think about as they go to sleep?" Don't know why the girl occured to me. Love her to pieces though despite her theatre background and tendancy to be full of shit. Sounds so negative, tsk tsk tsk Burnz.

Car's brakes need fixin' too. Not to bore you all with trifles, but planning a little excursion to see an old friend and didn't need to be worrying about the swine-esque squeal that accompanies every damn stop sign. I hope the drums and other brake components are not fucked like Britney Spears should be. I think that is all for now.

And why is every female I know suddenly procuring pornography? Ladies, bit of advice, if you really need to get off, my boy Randal can help you out for bargain basement prices. Bring a friend and they ride free!

Time Unknown.
Drunk again.

Typical Burnz. In another pathetic state. All wadded up on the floor like a fetus. Crying into his beard about some bullshit thing or other. Too "wounded" to even get off his ass and stroke his ego on his new goddamn website. I would find the display pitiable if it weren't so common. Six feet of weakling, but oh he has his precious jacket on, I think we should all act impressed. If I didn't sleep in the same room I would swear he makes love to that damn thing, god knows he doesn't look for anyone else. It is almost tempting to kick him isn't it? Not in a really hurtful malicious way, just enough to get him to make that sad little groan and maybe swear at you and wave his hand dismissively.

Oh look, he is trying to get something...wait, it failed, he fell down near the door. I think I am going to leave the window open and freeze him out. Do you know what it is like to have this thing shove you in a box every night? It is like having a blind man force you into glasses. I would feel sorry for him if he didn't treat people so badly.

So I have been busy the last few days. Usual stuff. Just slumming around the house trying to find a way to hide the damage I did to his precious Teflon pans. That is about the extent of it. I tried to cook so that he could come home to a warm meal, but all he did was stalk though without saying a word and fall directly asleep after he checked his e-mail. You know, the dumb bastard doesn't get anything that isn't junk mail.

I did finally get the parts to that stinger missile I have been trying to finish. Now it is choice. What with everything the way it is I should have dozens of buyers. People lining up to purchase armaments. Nostradamus predicted this don't you know, and silly us for not heeding his ancient warning. Hundreds of years sure does make us forgetful doesn't it? I don't know what to think about that prophecy shit to tell you the truth. I can make cryptic bullshit up to. "The third child of the house of the morning shall be born with ice in his heart. Great demons will follow the boy to his death." There, go find a way to apply that to Hitler or something, I think that is what you people do isn't it?

All right, Burnz here is sobering up and starting to recognize shapes. I like to fuck with him at this stage, hold up squares and ask if he knows what they are. No matter what he says I tell him he is right, makes him feel better.

I never knew what Kermit saw in Ms. Piggy, fat, bitchy, hits. That is something I want in a pitcher, not a lover. Fucking frogs have no taste in women. That one longhaired bitch, that was in the band, at least she was stoned all the time. Maybe not much of a life partner, but mellow. And you know, I was watching Fraggle rock, and I can't figure out the damn gender of half of those damn things. I mean, the dozers were almost exclusively male, but the Fraggles had more distorted sexuality than RuPaul. Wimbly, man, woman....I don't know if I should ask her for her number or advice on penis enlargement. Not that I need penis enlargement, I can sew on all the foam I like. I gotta slide out now, if I get in my box early he might forget to lock it and I can de-alphabetize his CD's. You should hear the words he uses when he can't find Sparkle and Fade by Everclear. You would think it was something important, like Alanis. Fairy

Update 2: Time unknown.
Wal-Mart Unloading: We always get it through the back door.

Work was shitty today. I don't really expect it to be anything other than shitty, so I don't know why I don't just say that work was the same. There are some beautiful things about employment. It is an opportunity to meet many people from various diverse cultures, and abuse them with your bigoted, suburban male views. Example:

Random Mexican (possibly an employee, more likely wandered in off the street.) :Hey Essay. *Slaps me heartily on the shoulder*

Burnz: Keep your greasy goddamn hands off me. Go hack down a car or something Vato.

Random Mexican: Shit man, I don't have to take that from you, I have suffered enough at the hands of the border guard man. They don't understand that what a man keeps in his ass should really be his business.

Burnz: Cry me a fucking river, and then cross it to someplace where I am not wetback.

End of dialog. In my defense I believe he had taken the stereo out of my car, that or one of his family.

Also on my mind is Janet Jackson's song…one of her new ones, they all sound like the same damn thing to me. It is the one about being at a club and some guys body is nice, or something. It was horribly filthy in her multiple uses of the term package. She describes this same gentleman with the nice body as having a good package as well. I take offense partly as a practioner of cleanliness, but also as a person whose package would not be described as anything other than ordinary…assuming you mean my member, because if you mean the florescent light bulbs that UPS delivered then I am certainly well endowed.

It was some pathetic man's last night at WalMart and they felt the need to have a horrific moment for him wherein the store manager gave some bullshit speech and then they did the Wal-Mart cheer. You didn't know they had a cheer you say? Me either, and let me tell you it was about time I knew, it has made me much richer. It goes something like this:

We've got money,
Yes we do,
We've got money,
And we own you!
Then the manager says "Give me a Wal" and out of fear of being slaughtered for wool and tenderloin everyone yells "Wal". Manager: Give me a "Mart". Crowd (cowering and avoiding eye contact) "Mart". Manager (waving scepter of bone): What does that spell?" Here the crowd becomes muddled and attempts to discern the correct answer. The smarter ones simply scream the manager's name and then applaud. This only works if he is wearing a name tag, otherwise they overload trying to remember what he is called. The dumber ones will either fake a seizure or simply duck into the nearest rack of "Food Stamp Geer". This works until they require medication and start frothing out of an orifice that has a 45% chance of being the mouth.

I have also learned that Wal-Mart employs a large number of ex-convicts. This adds many facets to the work environment. Here is a list:

1st - Not only is it good for business, in that these former criminals are grateful for any job, but it is also wonderful for me personally. After only one day of orientation I received 6 phone numbers, one of which belongs to a person that is possibly female.
2nd - I can easily avoid being held responsible for stealing. Point to the "reformed" fugitive and suddenly no one can remember why they blamed little ol' Burnz.
3rd - Stool pigeons have been rubbed out see? Those dirty rats got no moxy see? They have no place in what I seem to think is a circa 1940's mobster utopia.
4th - I can now sharpen in peace. Speaking of which they gave me a box cutter. If you were curious about my honesty on job applications, that should tell you.
5th - Some of the ancient greeters have been in lockdown so long that they are still making bathtub gin and declaring the futility of women's suffrage.

It is certainly an adventure if nothing else. I need to get out of this hole fast. I thought about not going in, and part way through I was dying to leave, but with 22 dollars in the checking account and rent coming in and bills bills bills, what is a girl to do? Besides the obvious girl things like crying out of spite, insisting that you use a coaster, manically frightening you by holding a pregnancy test and saying "we have to talk", and baring her teeth threateningly when you approach the nest while she menstruates violently at you.

That is the bullshit update for today. Tomorrow I should have this website up and actually running, assuming my pirated warez is as nifty as it keeps telling me it is. I wouldn't mind so much, but it doesn't even say it directly, it just stares into the mirror and keeps saying things like "How can one illegal program be this hot?" and "Don't use me yet baby, give me some time to cool down because right now I sizzle!" I tell you, one more crack and it will be sleeping on the floor with all the purchased programs, you hear that? ON THE FLOOR!. ß(I just put a period after an exclamation point)

Drank a package of four of those "Boost" protein energy shakes on my break today. Yes, before you ask, they were taken from work, I have just enough money to either put gas in my car or buy cigarettes…which means that I am going to be walking to work but at least I can smoke while I do it. But the Boost is the point. If you are going to drink the shit, down a few of them, it is wonderful. You will feel energized and ready for anything. I am going to write a letter to the Boost people right now to tell them to make it in smokable rock form as well. It is that good.