Odd Dream.

I was wearing a red and white striped outfit, sorta tight with shorts over the top. The shirt had horizontal stripes and the pants vertical. I was carrying a big bright yellow duffel bag. I was going to the gym, but I didn’t know exactly where it was. I started out in a big building with lots of rooms, and one of the doors led to a big open field/park with lots of people milling around. I recognized one of them and asked where the gym was. He pointed to a building right in front of me. I’m not sure how I had missed it. It had a bid sign that said, “The Gym”. I walked through it in my strange outfit and ended up outside the back, where I found my meeting. I had apparently been invited to play tennis with Mr. Big from Sex and the City and some of his rich buddies. I left my duffel bag outside and went into the court and played very badly. At one point, when I was about to serve for the first time, they decided to end the game there.

A little miffed, I followed them out of the tennis court and over to a blanket on the ground I thought they had gone to. I came up to the blanket and one of the four was sitting on it. A steady stream of people, 3 or 4 wide, was walking across the near side of the blanket, blocking my way. I said something like, “I didn’t realize I had stumbled onto a freeway”, or something. Sorta funny, but not really.

Eventually, I was able to jump into the crowd and disrupt the flow of people walking across. Suddenly, there were people walking in all different directions and I lost sight of the one person I recognized, so I decided to just go home.

I started heading back the way I had come and made it a little ways before I realized I had left my bag (with a bunch of stuff!) back at the tennis courts. I was wandering around in the old building I had passed through on my way to the gym. I turned around to try to find my way back to the gym, but everywhere I turned was a new room or a room I had already been in and none of the doors led back to the open field/park. I kept finding rooms set up with lots of chairs for a meeting or presentation or something. Old black and white movies were playing on projectors in some of them. At first, nobody was watching, but as I wandered around in circles longer, more and more people were in each room.

Some of the parts of the building were decorated in elaborate, bright flourescent paint with pictures of flowers and cartoon characters and other ravey stuff. Other parts were dark offices. I also kept passing an electrician working in a closet with a small light. That might explain why it was so dark in some areas.

Eventually, I made my way to what looked like a studio where a band might record an album. The floors were wood and the walls looked sound-absorbent. There were several studio rooms, but still none of them led back to the gym. One of the rooms had some old recording equipment and some of the people in the room with me were very interested in it.

I was frantic wondering where my duffel bag was still, but I had realized that I did indeed have my wallet with me so it wasn’t as big of a deal as it could have been. I also eventually did find myself back in the park/field and all the people were gone and the lights were out. I wandered through the gym, but didn’t find my bag there…

Then I woke up.

I have a terrible eye sore, quite literally. My eye is all swollen and puffy and red and disgusting. A minor irritation somehow developed into an icky bacterial infection. I have some eye drops and I’ve been directed to put warm tea bags on it from time to time (doctors today!) and I’m keeping my faith.

I hope it goes away. I have trouble enough in social situations as it is.

The pig in the poke took out a smoke and offered it up to me.
I paused for a moment, reached out for it, and popped it in my mouth.
The pig whipped out a lighter from behind his back, and flipped it over to me.
Too tired to be troubled, I took it and lit my smoke.

“Thanks,” I said.
“Yup.”

pound pound poof, you’re it!
take the bag, and race to the bank.
you’ll never make it, because it’s my game!
you’ll still try just the same, though.

The attempt is all you have left.
once you let go of that, you’ll fly up into the sun, and never be heard from again.
And that might be ok.
But who’s to say?

Separation in space.
it holds us apart, and wills us together… We reach out for something that is nothing at all and we are not surprised when we actually do find a thing, maybe not everything, but you know, what can you really ask for these days anyway?

And drowning in our own personal amusement, we stroll through the obscenities of our obscurity and wish them on other people. And don’t we now?

And ambiguous and ambivalent, the crazy crowded clown schools, churn out professional insaners and we weep on the shoulders of the innocent and the poor.

And still you tempt me with your juices and your sweet oh sweet smelling loins. And you know I can’t resist, and I sometimes know I must, but other times I know nothing other than my desire, and you taunt me.
You are the answer hanging in front of me…

Grasping at weeping willows and shirking my duties as god of my realm and crumbles come crashing down around me, and we laugh at the funny man on the big screen as he tells us our children will die young. It is too frightful to be true, so we pretend we understand the joke, and walk out of the theater in a good mood. One mood for both of us. Hand in hand, we are walking, and the crash of a crying dove smashing through the restaurant window opens our eyes to the faith we have put in a dying world, and we embrace and mourn the death of something we never knew.

I just dreamed about beating up a very short man handcuffed to a wall. He had handcuffed himself to the wall in front of a poster for his new record. It was called ‘four times seven’ for some reason. He wanted me to buy a copy. He was a feisty little guy. For some reason, I decided to pound on him a bit instead. I didn’t beat him up too bad, though. I felt bad about it afterwards, too. I helped him get down off the wall. It sort of seemed like he might have been used to getting beat up.

lovers and loving
huggers and hugging
singers and thinking
all hand in hand.

sinkers and sinking
droopers and drooping
drippers and sipping
all together at once,
and apart but looking inward.

We, alone but together,
feeling memories dripping down
from the clouds of perspiration
drifting up from our sweaty brows.

thorns
and nails.
trails open to my feet.
political action from far away,
blinding white lies meet me half way.

desperate dispersion
reckless persuasion
an enemy lost, and never to be seen again.

tip top toes.
rock road rows.
sipping sorpulent sores.
suck. sock.
seek.
sea.
monkey.
sink.
roll
down.
dern.

beat beat
I have nearly completed another beat.

Have you heard?
The beat, the beat is coming!
And the beat, the beat, the beat is on fire.

Catch some breath and some wind. Catch it if you can.

vibin it.
Squarepusher is a mad man.
maneeak.

Some feathers were ruffled in the office today. It happenes. I got a catalog of cool stuff to reward people… like certificates for employee of the month and stuff. Sorta random. I think I might order some of it, though.

I have a burn mark on my heart left there by you.
And you might not even know who you are…
But I don’t know.

I believe I have left a mark of some sort on you as well. And it’s weird because I am proud of the marks I have and I am proud of the marks I have left.

The marks remind us that we are not supposed to be seamless, shining representations of a world that can never exist. We are here and the world is here with us. Or something. There is no separator there.

And those marks remind us of things that we might not want to forget… but then sometimes I feel like it would just be easy to keep my eyes focused forward and just keep my feet trailing one by one through the shifty sand below. All systems go, all paths lead to somewhere. They must. It’s one of those things that we rely on.

Otherwise, we will go crazy.
But, I believe I might go crazy, anyway.

Sometimes, I feel like I should just go crazy now. Sometimes, I feel like that might really be the goal. The goal. The goal.

Alive.
A lie.

I went out and bought some camping gear today! A sleeping bag, and a mat, and a fleece top sort of thing. I’m all ready to be outdoorsy now. A bunch of us are planning to head out to Catalina Island next weekend. I might end up in a kayak for the first time ever. I’ll try to get somebody with a digital camera to give me some pictures to post.

ok. a quick poem:

laughter
and smelly hyenas
darts narrowly missing my brow

dynamite
and poison arrows
blocking my path to you

feelings
of love and confusion
and I close my eyes to the sun.

What’s with all the frickin’ rewinds at these superstar drum n bass parties?

I go to hear the music, not watch the DJ’s masturbate themselves with their popularity. God-dang.

Whatever… they play their own records most of the time, which is cool and all. And I’m glad they are getting the recognition they definitely deserve. But I just wanna dance, you know?

I’m beating my head still.
Beating it with my hands, and beating it against things.
Just generally beating.
Like my heart, but not so rhythmic or something. Yeah. Beat beat beat.

Ok. About what?
These darn girls. I try to keep them out of my head, and then they go and twirl me up around some finger or other roughly cylindrical body part, and I’m just happy to be noticed.

It’s all so simple, and it’s takes a long time to notice it, and forever to forget it.

We are energy, 2 or 3 at once.
We are willpower, 4 or maybe 10.
We are freedom, righteous and true.
We are wild, unknown and free.
We are alone, just you and me.

We change. Life changes us.
That’s a guarantee almost as much as dying is, as morbid as that might be. But I find comfort in change. It lets me know that things can always get better. Forget the fact that things usually just get worse. Ahaha. That’s easy to forget since it’s all relative anyway. You just get used to things.

Right now, I can feel a change coming on… actually, I have felt it coming for awhile, but it doesn’t really seem to. Maybe I’m just anxious for something to change. I dunno what. I want something big in my life to change. I could just pick something and make it change, I guess. I’ll pick… my hair! I’ll color my hair. Yeah.

Coloring my hair will change my whole outlook on things.

I don’t really want to color my hair, though. Maybe I’ll change… my skin tone! That could change everything… not easy, though… and probably expensive.

I dunno. Maybe I’ll just change my mind about something. Maybe I’ll decide that Republicans really do make sense! ahaha. Yeah. That’ll fix me.

ride
work
swim
connect the center
to the edges.
The waves roll in and out,
up and down. Over and out.

a kiss and a quick rinse behind the ears,
and I am free to rise up and roam the halls again. I am looking for the secret antidote to my incurable romantic hallucinations. Will I ever find it? Hahah! Of course not!

darn
I’m not sure how I feel about things all the time. I’m having trouble letting go of somebody I care about… but I had trouble holding onto her while I had the chance… and I don’t really know what I want. I believe things have transpired in a desirable fashion, but that still leaves me dealing with my curious feelings.

staring at you
wondering how you feel about this
and those other people staring back
at me

I had a really good Halloween. We had a nice party. Lots of friends, all dressed in some very nice costumes. I thought it was going to be a little difficult to get some of them to follow along, but they did it! We even finished off a keg of cider. We never finish off a keg anymore.

It took me all the next day to get out of bed, though… not because I felt sick or anything, but just because staying in bed felt like a better alternative than actually deciding what to do. I guess that’s what work is good for normally.

Mesmerize

mesmerize me
with your angel eyes
and your delicate caress.
ignite my forgotten senses
and tempt my unexplored desires.
make me believe in ghosts
and secret spirits of the night.
Fill my mind
with realized fantasies
and neglected obligations.
turn me and my world
around and upside down.
remind me what it feels like
to remember and forget all at once.
cast a glance my way,
and pause a moment too long
and an eternity too short,
just once.

pool cue
in my eye
such a fun game
I wanna try!

catastrophe
silly me
I thought maybe I had a clue.

retrofit
discipline
who cares, anyway?

I got a message from an old friend today. I haven’t talked to him for 4 years. A lot’s happened over the years, but it still sorta sounds like we might get along ok. That’s good to know.

It’s sort of neat to think that you could part ways with a person or a group of people and still end up following roughly the same sort of path… I guess it’s a social inertia sort of thing. People really do move in a fairly predictable direction.

I do like to try to be as unpredictable as I can, though… and I’m attracted to people who do the same.

I have all these words in my head swimming around. I can’t go to sleep because they keep gnawing at me. They want to be set free, but they are coming faster than I can piece them together. It’s a little easier once I start writing, but there are still a million more words, sentences, phrases boiling and bubbling behind my eyes and between my ears. I am alive with this insane vibration and I don’t know what to do to stop what I am thinking. I think for one moment that I will be able to piece this all together into some sort of cohesive story or maybe even just a few sentences, but then when I sit to write, other words altogether start to come out… I don’t know where these things are coming from or where they want to go… I tried to make some music but it came out all wrong. I tried to sleep, but it didn’t happen.

I think for one moment that there is something I am missing from my life, and I think maybe there is, but then for another moment I think maybe that’s not so at all. I do believe, sometimes at least, that I may never be content with what I have… I will always want more. I have said this before a thousand times under my breath, and I am still not sure if it is true. If it is true, I believe perhaps it will be the end of me.

I finished my big project for the month!
I was working on one stupid thing for soooo long.
I thought I’d never finish!
But I did, though.
I.

Now, I feel so free… I have so much time to do whatever I like. I started by writing a new gcoid posting.
Any of you not already on the list are missing out on same high
caliber stuff.

Your loss, though, I guess.

The banner ad I made the other day is doing very poorly. Almost nobody has clicked on it. Man.

Tropical happened last weekend. Good group of people dancing to a good group of house beats.

It left me thoughtful and only a little lonely. The lonely thing is not too overwhelming or anything. It’s just a thing. Nothing to worry about really.

Julie’s back in town for the summer. I wonder how that will be.

I’m quick to criticize others, but I’m even quicker to criticize myself. I hold pretty high standards for people around me.

I feel like I’m like that because I have a certain sort of vision of how I’d like things to be. I try to mold things to be that way as much as I can, but sometimes that gets in the way of my own enjoyment.

A few kids in Denver took over their highschool. Weird. Nobody knows what might cause such behavior

There’s a Stephen King story called Rage that’s pretty much about that. The kid who takes over the school doesn’t kill anyone, I don’t think (hard to remember…), but he does make them tell some secrets in front of each other. Crazy high school trauma.

Life is still hectic for me. I’ve started taking it out on the people near me. Weird.

I have self-destructive tendencies.
When things seem to be going as good as can be, I start getting failure anxiety… I start worrying that maybe I’m not doing things how I should be, or maybe something terrible is going to go wrong. It’s not so much that I’m pessimistic about things… I start feeling like I should just give up altogether… that there’s no use to it at all.

I worry that I might one day just go nutso and try to just destroy everything I love.

drip drip
drip

droop.

drop.

dipple.
dapple.

dongle.
dingle.

We looked at a place today…
3 story art deco office building in a heavy industrial zone.

Oh my, it was cool.

I hope there aren’t any hidden problems with it. I think it might be the one. I thought some of the others were cool, but this place is awesome.

It could be in a better area, though.

I got out of the house today and bought some more records. That’s good, but it sure makes the days go faster.

Business is still good. Better than ever.

My body is starting to complain that I don’t play with it enough, though… I need to be careful about that. I am still young.

Liz Phair knows where it’s at.

The intoxicating mental presence of that beauteous girl that you were unable to talk to weighs heavy on your heart right around this ridiculous holiday.

It makes you wonder why you don’t have someone to share the ridiculous day with. It makes you question all the reasons you’ve given yourself. It makes you wonder if maybe all those other silly people are right.

Happy V Day.
(late, sorry)
(I’m slow lately).

The world is full of unsavory places. And the only people who go to unsavory places are either unsavory themselves or incapable of going elsewhere. And that fact makes those places all the more unpleasant.

And the cycle continues. And we continue to destroy each other systematically and quite perfectly. No one understands what must be done enough to ever really do a whole lot.

We are in an endless cycle of forces tugging this way and that, gradually tearing our reality apart.

I wrote a new Special Sauce.

I got a new toy. I think it might be one of the best things that’s happened to me in awhile.

I’m not planning to grow up anytime soon.

(oh yeah, and I’d like to point out that when I’m not witty and wise, it’s on purpose… it’s all part of my plan)

Rain.
It’s raining here.
I live in a desert. Los Angeles. It doesn’t rain much here.

When it does, everything gets all messed up, though, because no one’s prepared for it.

I don’t much care for rain. I suppose I don’t mind it when I’m inside all day, though.

It does make my car look a little more pleasant, though.

I’ve been sleeping a lot!
I thought I would get over it, but I sleep about 10 hours at least every night. 11 hours last night! I’m letting sleep take over my life!

It’s not even like I have some other magical dreamland to go to or anything. It’s mostly just black open space as far as I can remember. And I wake up tired. I feel much better when I sleep less. Why can’t I convince myself to get up?

I still keep sleeping for 10 or 11 hours.

That sounds like a good thing, but that always makes my head feel heavy all day long. It doesn’t really start lightening up until the evening time… and then I end up working late doing stuff I didn’t do all day… and then the cycle repeats.

I gotta break it.
Maybe I should start watching a TV show that comes on in the morning.

Somehow, I’ve spent the whole day so far reading and responding to email and reading a few web pages here and there.

I’m glad I can do that.

I only slept 7 and a half hours last night, too.

Now, I think I’m going to try to get some real work done today. I can do it.

rah rah rah.

I had a pretty good day today. I wish I wasn’t so sick I hardly noticed.

Nah. It wasn’t that bad…

And I got the new PJ Harvey album. She deserves to be queen.

I’m a part of the rat-race. I’m a rat. I’m not proud of it, but it’s true. I follow the other rats, and I try to figure out the maze so I can get to the cheese first. Nobody likes second-hand cheese droppings. No, sir!

I’m thinking about buying a new car. That’s how they getcha! New cars are fun. But then you’re hooked. You’re in debt, already… you might as well just buy a jet-ski, too! And then a fishing boat, and then an expensive painting!

And then you meet her. Who, you ask? Well, the woman you fall in love with. And then you want to buy her an expensive piece of jewelry. And then you’re hooked for life. Then you buy a house and another car and then you have a kid and then you might as well kiss that jet-ski good-bye because she thinks it’s noisy.

That’s how they getcha. Don’t buy into it!

Want more? Join G-COID!
Put your email address in this box
and devote! (hit return)…

I’m going to Vegas! The whole idallas.com team (that’s me!) is heading to Las Vegas with Sage for Comdex! Wha-hoo!

I’m excited to check out the Be, Inc booth. That’s what’s dragging me all the way across the state…

I’m also excited to find out if my attempts at internet-based notoriety are panning out yet… I’m gonna pause in front of people to see if they recognize me… if they don’t, I’m just gonna mention that my friend Sage is “the Webring kid” and see if that rings a bell…

If not, I’ll be hurt, but it’ll only make me work harder!

I saw some major national network television news program tonight. It was about
this girl who had so much pent-up pain and anger in her than she couldn’t deal with
it and she cut herself as some sort of release. Overall, she seemed to be doing ok at
the end of it all, but it still made me think about some fucked up stuff. I was
thinking about the amount of pain in the world and how one little sliver of pain
can shoot through and sour a whole lot of love. It’s like when you’re mixing paints.
It takes a whole lot of white paint to lighten a color up, but it only takes a little dash
of black to make it darker. Pain is like the black paint. A little bit
of it can really mess up your day. That sounds like an awfully poetic thought, but
I try to stay away from things like that because they remind me why it seems reasonable
to be depressed all the time.

I’d like to complain about the state of the world today. I really would like to.
I’d like to complain about the way people in remote places differ from me. I’d like
to help those people live a life more like mine. I’d like for them to be able to
use ICQ and carry a cell phone to the Taco Bell for their meatless Gordita. I’d
like for them to be able to eat Corn-Nuts for breakfast and stay up until 5am installing
Linux on a PC put together from some scavenged parts. But why should I do that?
Why should I think the way I do things is better than the way they do things?
Why should I suppose that my way of life is somehow more enlightened or more enriching
than theirs? I am so very envious of primitive tribe culture. I can never hope
to understand it, but I can suppose that people who live in tribes apart from
the main section of world society really understand their emotions and their feelings.
They are much more in touch with their instincts and they understand what
the word history really means. I wish I could understand that.

There’s nothing as important as friends. That fact is drilling itself deeper into my
psyche all the time. There’s all different kinds of love, and you need them all. It’s
like a spectrum or a rainbow. Any one of the colors can be beautiful by itself, but
you need them all to see the whole picture. That’s pretty deep, but I’m that way
sometimes, you know? Anyway, friends represent one (or maybe more) of those
colors
of love and you need them just as much as you might think you need sex or drugs or
your poodle, Fufu. Don’t mess up the good love relationships you have. You can never
have too many friends. Word up.

Also, I started a bit of a new section. It’s not going to be updated daily, but the
thoughts there are a little more thought out, if you know what I’m saying. It’s called
Special Sauce and it’s the secret ingredient you’ve all
been waiting for. Check it Out!

Someone was killed near the building where we keep some of our servers today.
It was an old woman. She was hit by a car that was coming out of a parking garage.
It was apparently a hit and run. I hope whoever did it can’t deal with the guilt
and loses his/her mind, ruining his/her own life and the lives of everyone he/she
loves.

Oh the Heat:
Today’s beating is provided by Mark…

So, it’s really hot here (as those of you who live in the L.A. area
know). In the shade temperature hit 110F where I live today. It
was 101F in my home office today.

Normally it’s air conditioned.

But, as the fates would have it, *rats* ate through my electric
utility wires on the hottest weekend of the year!

How fucked up is that??!?!

Yesterday, there were all kinds of sparks comming from near
the utility pole. Since then (well, up until a few minutes
ago) we had weird power — 95VAC under zero to small load,
but try to run anything big, like an A/C or TV, and blammo,
potential drops to 60VAC. Edison guy just left. He says
rats ate some cables. I hope the little fuckers got fried
real good. If you think I’m being harsh, well, *you*
try sleeping in an 85 degree bedroom!

I think I need more passion in my life. Some days I feel like I’m just going
through the motions following some big gears that are turning somewhere far off,
directing me (along with everyone else) on toward something that we don’t really care
about. And that might be how it is, and that might be ok. But if that’s the case,
the important stuff in life must be in the doing and in the actions. You need
to thrive on the sheer pleasure of doing what it is you do, no matter what the result
might be, and if you don’t enjoy it, don’t do it.

Easy to say, hard to do. I’m full of that sort of thing.

It sure was nice to get out of my good mood today. What a bunch of crap that can be.

I guess one good thing happened today. At least the president didn’t get away with his
indescretion. I say, “burn the fucker.” Let’s make it a live internet broadcast, too.
That’d be dope.

Now, maybe people will elect a president that has actually done something interesting.
All the ones people keep picking keep turning out to be assholes. Hmmm… I wonder
if there’s a pattern to it… nah.

Today, I found myself waiting for somebody. Waiting is a bit of an annoyance.
There are some good things to it, though. It’s like wasted time that you can blame
on somebody else. You can use that time to do some things you had been sort of trying to
make some time to do… hopefully you don’t find yourself waiting somewhere where
you can’t really do anything like a hospital waiting room or something, ick.

Think of it as tax-free time.

So what did I do? Well, I checked out some web sites… Most notably one that
has already gotten a lot of attention and doesn’t need a low-life like me to toot its
fruit, but here it is: spacegirl.org

It’s run by a dope girl with a dope outlook on things. dope

I’ve started to notice that my own life is a little more boring that I had realized.
In lieu of boring everyone to tears, I’ll start filling in the boring bits of my
life with some random gibberish off the top of my head.

“Evil.” That was all she could think.

“Just plain evil.” But what else could she think? Everything that was important to her
had been destroyed, and it could all be blamed on one man. How could one man
hold so much hate? How could he be so… so… well, evil?

“I’m sorry, ma’am.” He had the gall to speak to her. “I’ve got to shut it off.”
She glared at him, noticing his age starting to show at the corners of his eyes.
“It’s just my job.”

“Evil man,” she said, mostly under her breath.

“I’ll be quick about it so I can get out of your way.” She watched him as he worked
his evil ways, every ounce of her hate beaming out of her eyes. If she could have
pierced through his body with her gaze, she would have done it.

It didn’t take him
more than 15 minutes to destroy her life, and he was soon on his way out the door.

“Have a good day, ma’am.”

“Go to hell.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

He turned and walked back down the narrow hall to the stairs leading
out of the apartment building. A couple of floorboards protested his weight as
he crossed over them. She
watched him go, and all she could do was read the logo on the back of his jumpsuit
over and over.

It said: “Century Cable Television.”

List Day:
A cat screaming out its last breath, the look of that homeless man on the corner,
my own fears of failure, frustration, fatigue, denial, a still hot night alone,
pork rinds, stale beer, the big city closing in on you, broken pencil tips, stolen dreams,
shelter, bad music, bad acting, bad boob jobs, “fire in the hole”.

List day.

Video games, cartoons, blue eyes, long legs, hairy spiders, the Beastie Boys,
drum n bass, veggie corndogs, muscle cars, cryptic command-line interfaces
understandable only by people who deserve to be paid lots of money,
Nutter Butter cookies (nutterbutter.com is not registered!), icicles, Bloody Marys,
peanut butter, Batman: The Animated Series, Civilization II, BeOS, pouty lips,
Ally McBeel, Ani DiFranco, red hair, soft skin, Indian food, big tattoos,
perky nipples, passionate feelings.

So… the police came to our house again tonight. It doesn’t happen all that often, but
it’s starting to increase in frequency a bit. We’ll have to watch ourselves. It was
for a noise complaint, as usual, this time it was from some old lady or something
(I’ve only heard the store second-hand) and we scored 5 cop cars! Yee!

Anyway, the woman is apparently talking about a law suit and says she’s complained to
the city, and called the cops, and whined about it to her friends, and … well,
talked to everybody about it but us. Hmmm… that doesn’t seem like the most
(how should I put this? … ) effective way to handle the situation, does it?

Doesn’t it seem logical to you that the first place you should go to solve your problems
would be the source? That seems like the most direct way to me.
I could be wrong, of course.
But I don’t think I am.

I have a simple request. Unless you suspect your neighbors are homicidal,
please attempt to handle your own frickin’ domestic problems before
you go and bug the police, who have much better things to do in my neighborhood
with 5 cop cars. I bet the cops will appreciate the extra free-time, and it just plain
feels good!

Thank me later.