I have come to realize that the living room of my apartment resembles a terrorist command center. I have three computers and four LCD screens, seven speakers plus a subwoofer, a TV, and a receiver as well as all the requisite cables and hubs and what not in here, because (1) I couldn’t fit it all in my room anyway and (2) the first rule of sleep hygiene is to only use the bedroom for sleeping.

Because the window in the living room opens onto a walkway, and I’m not enough of an exhibitionist to let everyone check me out while they walk by, I always the blinds closed.

Darkness has never really been my friend.

There was an impulse attached to this blog entry, but I find that I have no desire to describe what that impulse is.

Instead, I will blather away about everything and nothing, but mostly nothing.

If this were a real blog post, the content would go here.

Since it’s Mother’s Day, I’m going to meet my parents at the casino. I sometimes worry that my parents have a gambling problem. But whatcha gonna do.

I kind of don’t really want to drive up through the godforsaken mountains of northeast San Diego County, what with being a little sleepy and all, but I’m committed, filial piety and all that.

Lord have mercy on my soul, and my ever-quaking heart. I don’t know where this all came from, but it’s frankly kind of nuts.

I will leave it at that.