empty calories

im trying to break this pattern of having no pattern at all. im trying to update more consistently instead of whenever i have nothing left to do. im trying to put effort into all this, as opposed to treating it as another insignificant task. im trying, i swear.

so i will be getting a laptop. hopefully this weekend. im sure it will be yet another purchase that will change the course of my life. im sure it will be that missing ingredient that unleashes the true flavor of my character. im sure i will write more, and better. i will get back into the mode of creating music and experimenting with the great depths of my creativity. im sure it is the exact tool ive needed to propel my life forward. and i, as well as anyone who happens to read this site, will be richer for the experience.

anyway,

we were watching CSI Miami the other night. begrudgingly of course, because we are rubbed so wrong by David Caruso's hammy acting, but still glued to the set because sometimes bad tv is preferable to whatever thoughts you may have in your head. the plot was so absurd that it was all worth it in the end. to briefly summarize it for you heres what Horatio and the gang figured out by the shows end:

the murder victim, a good looking pool boy at a swanky South Beach Hotel, went to one womens room and, after giving her the business, stole her wedding ring on the way out. he then went to another womans room and seduced her [she was middle aged and hard up, so it was fairly easy], but when it came down to offering up the length he couldnt "rise to the occasion." of course this is embarrassing, for her more than him, and he decides to go to the bathroom and pop some blue pills. obviously insecure about his flaccid member he tells her that he couldnt get it up because of her. that was ill advised of course, and she proceeds to beat him down with a shower rod, leaving him lying there bleeding to death.

but he didnt die. he got up and, for some reason, went to another womans room [i guess the pool boys dont have a little pool boy office where they can swap pool boy stories and circle jerk] to put some ice on his head. while hes sitting there on the couch she walks in. he gets up and apologizes but the women, noticing his saluting member [the viagra was still in full effect from his brief adventure with the woman before] gets a little excited and decides that, despite the blood streaming from his bludgeoned head, what he really needs is a little bit of poon. in the act of taken her from behind, pool boy bashes the other side of his head on the beds metal headboard then passes out. the woman, thinking that he was just worn out from the hours of sex they just had and that the blood pouring from his dome was from whatever accident he had earlier, leaves him there and goes to the lobby for the complimentary coffee and croissants.

but pool boy wakes up, probably in a daze as by now im sure he has lost about 2 liters of blood, and finds his way out of the room. on the way down the stairwell [the pool boy, for some reason, had an aversion to elevators] he meets up with the first women who accuses him of stealing the wedding ring. of course he denies it, but the blood that must be fully caked on his face and hair by now doesnt stop the woman from reaching into his shirt pocket to grab the ring that she can CLEARLY see he has. after a small tussle pool boy falls over a railing and lands two stories down, on his head mind you, and the woman, satisfied with the matter, grabs her ring and leaves him for dead.

but is our pool boy dead? well, he sure looks it and when the hotel manager sees a body lying in the stairwell the first thing he thinks of is not the welfare of our dear, horny, bloody, pool boy, but the image of 5 star hotel he runs. so the manager drags the body of the pool boy outside and puts him in the trunk of his car. i dont know what he plans to do with the body, maybe the viagra was still in pool boys system and the hotel manager saw an opportunity he couldnt pass up, either way it doesnt matter because pool boy wakes up while in the trunk of the car! hotel manager, realizing something is amiss when he begins to hear cries of help and banging coming from the back of his car, pulls over and lets the pool boy out.

pool boy, the resilient little bugger, hops out of the trunk and, as if by habit, heads back to the hotel. i guess he figured he would try to score some more ass before his shift was over, i mean, he HAD been pretty lucky with the ladies that day if you think about it from an idiots point of view. but the loss of blood, which had to have reached 8 liters by now, was too much for him and he died, on the hotel lawn, alone. it was the most inane "mystery" i have ever witnessed. i can not wait until next weeks episode.

this update was brought to you in a rush.