I had a nightmare in my head that Oregon was going to start carrying sales tax but it was immediately relieved by a joke to self brought on after another unreasonable shopping spree before class: “You could never kill ourself cuz you have too many cute outfits in your closet yet to be worn!” With all of the shit brewing in the world I feel like a selfish jerk (aka, Supercilious asshole-bastard, aka. Stalin-Palin devil baby). Do you know who would take the cake for selfish bastards? (but he is an android so therefore disqualified from any criticisms placed on human character)…my apartment complex owner. Here I have a beautiful studio, art deco, colored tiles in the kitchen and bathroom, a vintage, goth chandelier, and detailed windows, hard wood floors, but then the owner is probably a trust fund baby born into wealth with the brain of a PC computer chip, and the heart of a Sears appliance. I think he may actually be an android, but if he’s not, then the way he refused to shake my hand in our first acquiantance, and the way he rudely brushed off J when he once called to explain a starving kitten was deserted in the basement, not to mention the way he yelled at me over the phone the other day when I said it was his responsibility to fix the heater, and then hung up with I yelled back….well, because of all of these things he is a terrible, stodgy, plodding branding iron, and I want to toss him in a junkyard, and believe I might have to relinquish my home, (my handsome old lady home that won me honor through a DVD representation in my architecture class, and captivated friends with its classy, carnivalesque charms), for the sake of my sanity. Being ignored by coworker/exboyfriend whom I still masochistically pine for is bad enough, I am finding androidish behavior more prevalent these days, maybe I incite it with my unnatural naturalness, in which I say what’s on my mind, or maybe it’s the information age, and globalization making the world a hot bed of tech-dependent diapered dorks. I think if the Apocalypse is on its way, I have no other point in my ramblings then that I need to start getting laid more, listening to more hip-hop, and somehow get a car for Sunday trips to the coast and little Oregon towns with deserted barns and haunted hotels for photo projects. My other point was that selfish bastards suck, and I apologize for being one when I am one, because I know I sometimes am one.