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Below are 11 journal entries, after skipping by the 20 most recent ones recorded in
alagbon419's Blurty:
| Friday, November 7th, 2003 | |
| 3:23 pm | Chinchilleriffic! Jess and I did go pick up a chinchilla. Unfortunately the one at the Westgate Mall pet shop that we had visited a while back was gone, but we found one at another place. It's a beige female; we named her Sprungboosing, after one of the mysterious words found on the ingredients list of a package of Syrian baklava. She's getting along well with Jess's other chinchilla, which is good. |
| 9:15 am | All hail His Imperial Majesty Haile Selassie I, Jah Rastafari! It's morning. I have had some tea (a standard grade of loose-leaf Yunnan Puer obtained at a local Chinese shop) and will soon nuke a frozen burrito. Yee-ha. |
| Thursday, November 6th, 2003 | |
| 10:59 pm | Public Service Announcement Gnomes are cool. Unless they infest your garage and keep you up at night with the infernal tapping of their hammers as they construct weapons of unimaginable doom. |
| 7:35 pm | Omelette du fromage! Tomorrow afternoon Jess and I are going to buy a new chinchilla, to replace one of hers who sadly shuffled off this mortal coil recently. (Hmm, I suppose I should listen to the Mozart D Minor Requiem, as if I needed an excuse to listen to one of my favorite pieces of classical music...) Chinchillas are cool, despite their slight resemblance to that irritating yellow Pokemon thing whose name I cannot remember. Hopefully we will get a female, and there will be wee little chinchillitas eventually. We will also go out for Chinese food, and perhaps have some beer, either some of my latest batch of homebrew (a pale ale, which everyone else seems to like but in which I detect a vexatious number of flaws) or a Fordham Copperhead Ale. Current Mood:  mellowCurrent Music: Mozart, Requiem in D Minor (KV 626) |
| 9:08 am | Thursday morning... It's foggy. I want some tea. There's nothing to write about really, except for something in the newspaper that would require rather a bit of explanation that I'm feeling too lazy to go into. Oh well. Current Mood:  awakeCurrent Music: I have the "Hamtaro" theme song stuck in my head. |
| Wednesday, November 5th, 2003 | |
| 10:25 pm | booga booga. I had a long day, but it's seemed to end OK. I am feeling uncharacteristically mellow. Current Mood: mellowCurrent Music: Vladimir Vysotsky |
| 10:05 pm | Eran na goat o, for Yoruba land... It occurs to me that if anyone other than my girlfriend is actually reading this, they may wonder: "What in the hell is an Alagbon, and why 419?" Alagbon is the main prison in Lagos, Nigeria, and 419 is the number of the article in the Nigerian criminal code that covers those entertaining emails "HELLO FRIEND I AM OKUNRIN KALAKUTA FORMER NIGERIAN DEFENSE MINISTER AND I WOULD LIKE TO PROPOSE A SMALL TRANSACTION..." Now you know. My interest in things Nigerian stems from my liking for the music of Fela Ransome-Kuti and the Africa 70, whose album "Expensive Shit" you need to go buy right now, unless you're my girlfriend in which case you can borrow it from me. |
| Tuesday, November 4th, 2003 | |
| 4:43 pm | Attention, all planets of the Solar Federation! Attention, all planets of the Solar Federation! We have assumed control... Current Mood:  nerdyCurrent Music: Rush, 2112 |
| 2:42 pm | Alea jacta est. (The die is cast.) Back from the polling place. I voted for all the Democrats, even though I suppose if I had paid more attention to the specific candidates I might have done otherwise. At any rate I figure a Democrat isn't going to want to draft me (I do NOT exist solely for the convenience of my government!) or pass laws that require me to pray to their god. Time to finish mowing the blasted lawn. |
| 1:46 pm | Election Day I am about to schlep off and participate in the local/state elections, even though I know less than I should about the candidates. We haven't reached the Third World level of election-related violence yet in this country, so I should return safely in a while. |
| 7:54 am | Hwæt! Here I am, writing in my online journal. Perhaps I shall descend into a vortex of ridiculous gothy angst, like so many other webjournalists. Perhaps not. We shall see. |