The Santiago 9

As I begin writing this, the clock reads, "8:49 PM" and the cocktail of lorazepam, lithium and my last 3 Vicodin (left over from some recent dental surgery) has begun working it's magic. They look like a handful of candy, or as special individuals, each with something unique to share, every pill is there for a reason. I feel pretty good right now.

The lordie works in mysterious ways.

But no sake. I can't really spend money on sake, as I'm quite poor. I get by, but I can't deviate from the plan lest I risk being flat broke by the 15th of the month. It blows. So the holidays got me some sake, and I did buy one cheap bottle, but it won't be a regular thing.

It really is good stuff, though. My birthday is July 26th and I'll take a bottle of sake.

The Israelis' really need to lay off the Gaza Strip. I'm hoping that perhaps that blog commentary will be the one to cause positive change in the Middle East. It doesn't seem likely. What is far more likely is that I'll have a heart attack and die.

What we need to do is round up the human race and get everyone in the right camp so this thing can be fought fare and square. What one might call, "Thunderdome Style." And it's best to organize this thing by race...so could the niggers stand over there, on the left, and the kikes to the far right...that's it. Wetbacks, you wait in the kitchen.

So then we have a big race war and we never have to hear about race again. There can be only one. It's all true...it's in Highlander. And apparently the fags and the squares can't get along, so they have to fight it out to glory.

Then we'll pit the pro-Choice people against the anti-abortion people.

And then we'll have 9 Chilean, heterosexual pro-lifers left, and they can start over. Would that satisfy these cunts who complain about the "bickering" in Washington? Debating is good, as is fighting for what you believe in. And when they stop debating, flee. F-L-E-A. We may have reached the point where people aren't bright enough to have a democracy. Fascism may come back as a matter of convenience. It saves time!

Behind me, the humidifier bubbles and taunts...taunts and bubbles. I know it's jibes well now, and before the sun rises tomorrow there will be a reckoning. Oh, yes, bubble away...yes, you need to make your mist, don't you? Glub, glub...gl"Hi Darren, I want to fucking kill you and pour muriatic acid in your pee hole! That would really hurt! Then I'd shoot you in your fat head and dump your body"ub...glub, burble.