I think I'm SOOOOOOO much better than anyone else!

Joshua my friend from college called last night and we talked for five and a half hours about every possible topic. He's in the airforce (capital 'a'?) and I don't understand how a long-haired, English-major, dance-with-his-eyes-closed kind of guy I was such good friends with at school could now work in a squadron for the space program where people have never heard of Franny and Zooey, much less read the thing. He explained something about brotherhood and comaradarie, but I get that from my crew of friends that I'm not going to go join an institution for it. He said since you have to work SOMEWHERE, why not find a job that offers a fraternity-like spirit? Point taken, but for me I'd rather live in a hovel as a tortured artist, or maybe that's just puffery. We really are a lot alike - Joshua and myself - but he hasn't found kindred spirits in his work place for the two and a half years he's been there, and we his friends feel sorry for him. We cannot even make a roadtrip and kidnap him. He'd go to jail. That's called AWOL. If there's an acronymn for something it's best to avoid it. How shitty would it be to have a job that would put you in jail if you decided to quit and take a vacation?

Now it's the weekend.

Hopefully this boring-ass week of entries will be juiced up after I pull some asinine antics while loaded with tequila.

Oh, this is funny, my friend Asit who I stay with in the City is a complete prep (he wore a turtleneck to the Rev. Horton Heat show) ((he owns turtlenecks)) and I told him I'm going to go see AFI at the end of the month. He wants to go, even after I explained the band, but he also wants me to give him a punk makeover. What the holy hell is that supposed to mean? How could I? I don't even know where to start... Accessories? yeah. Shoes? yeah. Hair? yeah. He just doesn't have that punk... I don't know what.

Okay.