A Few Things, Pay Attention, Lend Ear

Okay, first off, I'm making fun progress on TA. I am writing the script now, actually. It's very much fun- I actually am doing something concrete. I think quite often of what I've written, and find ways to improve it. I'm to the point now where Ness is going to buy Jayme and Dan some clothes. So, she's going to get them shirts which say,

Jayme: My Other Shirt Is Back In My Jail Cell (on the back): I Left In A Hurry

And for Dan: I Was A Combat Explosives Trainee... (on the back): Back Before I Blew Up The School. (with a lit stick of dynamite)

I like them. There's going to be a store which sells stuff like this, and has designers on hand. Ness will have a type of unlimited credit card for buying stuff. I'm still having trouble bonding them.

One line I came up with, which I am sure is inspired by God himself, as I had no idea I was typing it, was when I made a parallel between Ness and Moses (seriously, it was awesome). It works well. I really like it. But somehow, they need to make enough of an impression on Ness for her to decide to team with them.

Loosely, the story is, she gets the clearance to arm herself due to her extraordinary powers, and feels led to, you know, do Ness-stuff until something falls into her lap. Then she meets Jayme and Dan, and they all hang out for a while. I am not sure how long, but at least a day- probably more like a week. All the while, there's a manhunt on for Jayme and Dan. Hmm, actually.


After a tad of research, the ExpressPay, and PayPass systems use RFID transmitters instead of the magnetic strip. I don't know how much I would want RFID in TA. I do, however, want instant pay cards.






Second Here is the festering, maggot infested tag of Things I Hate, I told my parents, "Get rid of the cow heads. Bury them. Why did you even get them?"

I don't like to think that I am smarter than my parents. However, I do think certain things through viciously, and, despite myself, I am brilliant, and sharp as a tack.

So when I say something, I expect to be listened to. Heeded, even. It makes sense. Like when I say, "stop scratching the cutting board, what's your problem, you freak?"

Anyone would expect to common courtesy of being listened to. Heeded, even. Much as when I passionately argued against getting two bucks. My Mom even knew I was right, in fact, she had already considered that. However, her love and adoration of goats with balls (apparently--- why else have a total of three of them?) overrided her common sense. I snapped her out of it, and now we saved about $27k in goat costs. I practically made us $27,000 in minutes. Yet, am I heeded?

NO!

"Don't put the cow heads out there." is all I said. I didn't, I mean, I wasn't mean. I didn't brandish a baseball bat, or threaten a soda can in a sock. I just expected to be respected. ExReed.

But NO!

"Oh, I WANT THE COW SKULLS!" my Dad said. Like that's so innocent, and pure.


That's about as innocent as, I don't know, rape.

And that's about as pure as, I don't know, rape.


"Why the hell?" I said. "The horns fall off and everything, they're crap."

"I WANT THEM TO EAT SALAD ON" is the basis of his response. And now, they're out there. A severed head. Rotting. Soon, drug onto the porch, where we can accidentally trip on them, or worse, onto them.

The eyes? The eyes are most likely drying out like raisins. HOW SEXY.

Yeah, NO. I actually saw them out there- both of them- in the sun. It is at least 107 degrees out there. How warm, mmm. ...oh, right. Let me explain. It's cold in here. Very cold. I am desiring warmness, and right now 107 degrees for a few minutes doesn't sound so bad. Sure, I will die, and I'll have to avoid the cow heads, but still.

News flash: I have a new food interest. It is grape leaves. Stuffed grape leaves, actually. Yet I cannot force myself to eat them (they came from a can), despite the Cucumber Dill sauce I made for them, due to the cow heads. I can't do it. I respectfully am not going outside until the cow heads are in a dumpster.






Three, I am going to write a letter to Les Feldick. He is going to die soon I have been meaning to. I don't know what I'm going to say. I am going to write a HUGE letter, much like an unrefined blog post, then refined it until it's a page or so long. Maybe two pages. I will also be sending him a donation, and also, my Mom will be taking the $20 for KLove out of this weeks pay. Isn't that right, Mom?

I just need some things sorted out, and I am hoping he can help. If he can't, I'll find someone else. Maybe a pastor in Sedona...I am not sure if anything came today, although a little birdy told me that probably The People Under The Stairs came. Edit: THAT LYING BIRDY!