Travel via kite

Slowly, or I mean Quickly, I shall become one of those folks who has nothing better to put into their webbased logger than things which I have observed at the workplace.

Yesterday it was the urinal pose that causes me to cringe out loud.

It's the one where the dude is peeing, has his right hand in the expected utility, but has his left arm up over his head, with his palm flat against the wall. And he is leaning into the porcelain like he is sheltering the homeless from the rain. Or something.

He is usually sighing, or blowing, or both, like he is out of breath. This, or else he is grunting. Or grunting, sighing, and blowing.

When I say 'blowing', I mean exhaling loudly.

But that clincher is the left hand, as high as he can get it and palm pressed, and fingers splayed.

I was going to draw it for you, but then I got lazy.

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I had to pack all of my things that I brought with me, tonight. I put them all into a storage space, down the road.

I am getting onto an airplane tomorrow. I think. I am going home for three days, I think. And then I am going to Baton Rouge for a week. Baton Rouge is where I was the last time I bought a Thomas Pynchon book. It was at a Barnes & Noble near LSU, and there were lots of freaky nerds walking around, which surprised me because I did not figure a place like Baton Rouge to have very many freaky nerds.

I am usually lax to label someone a freaky nerd, because of glass houses or whatever, although I don't consider myself to be a nerd at all, because I think I have mostly always been too stolid to be, but maybe I did look the part, once upon a time. And sometimes, that's all it takes.

Stolid means uninvolved and mostly apathetic. Nerds cannot be apathetic, by definittion, because they are famous for caring a whole lot about things that do not make a fuck. Like having a heavy emotional involvement in something like, say, the Lord of the Rings or some bullshit.

But anyway, this dude was a freaky nerd, and chasing this girl all around the bookstore, and wasn't reading (from vibes) that she wasn't interested, and he was saying the absolute dumbest things in this weird effort to impress. Or this effort to impress weirdly.

But you know what? That's all beside the point.

I still have not read the Thomas Pynchon book. And now that I think about it, maybe I only considered buying it, but did not.

The day after that was the time I cruised through the bayous and was amazed at the trailer trash, on their porches and enjoying their lives to the fullest. I like coon asses.

Coon asses are what they call dirty cajuns. It is more of a jabbing term than straight-up derogatory, because cajuns like being called coon asses when you are joking around, like saying "Hey I just ran over a possum on the way to work tonight have you eaten yet, coon ass?"

I bet that coon asses in general don't even know who Thomas Pynchon is.

After my stint in Louisiana, I think that I have to think more about making Orlando a home, or at least a place where I will live in my shackles and eat my hard-earned porridge.

I am finding out that I do not know anything about mortgages, and I can't really be bothered to find out, so maybe I should just keep on renting.

These things TBD.

Maybe people will visit me, someday.