� Memoirs of an Evil Genius �
Conquering the World, One Martini at a Time

� V for Virus �
7:35 p.m., 2006-03-23

Oh my gosh, you guys, I feel like I haven�t updated in about six years! I have been so, so busy with my job � seriously, this is like the first chance I�ve had to take so much as a breath.

Okay, I wrote that first paragraph four hours ago, and then I got slammed. I need to learn not to open my big, fat mouth. I also need sleep. Sweet, sweet sleep, how it eludes me. On the off chance that I have more than two minutes of spare time to rub together, I am spending them in front of my TV at home, trying desperately to catch up on the cavalcade of shows presently clogging up each and every blank VHS I own. Yes, I know: it�s the age of TiVo, and I�m still hobbling along on my VCR like your unfortunate grandparent, who still hasn�t grasped the concept of the internets, still refers to your laptop as a �word processor�, and asks if you�d like a nice �boom box� for your birthday. Only I still couldn�t afford a boom box, so I�d probably just get you that discount walkman from Target that you have to, like, snap together yourself like one of those Happy Meal toys. What was with those?

I also have spent approximately the last week trying to recover from a bout of Peruvian Death Flu, or something. I mean, this one was bad, folks, and our hero (me) almost didn�t make it. I developed this full-on body hurt, and the kind of congestion that makes you feel like maybe your sinus cavity may have actually acquired a poltergeist, and that descended into this death rattle chest cough and a mild fever, which made work even MORE fun�and in order to sleep at night, I tried taking Nyquil. And let me tell you, there is a very good reason all those decongestants say shit like �do not operate heavy machinery�, and it�s because that over the counter crap? Will fuck your shit UP. I took two tablets, and I was so stoned I thought I was having a tea party with Grover and Queen Elizabeth. I gave myself a look in the mirror, and the last time I saw my pupils that large was when my dastardly optometrist squirted those drops in my eyes that make them dilate, and I wandered around looking like that alien from Communion for the next three hours.

I spent Saturday in bed, which was actually not so bad. My sweetie Ulrich got me tea and some lunch, and then succumbed to a crippling wave of nausea and ended up lying prostrate on my bed for the better part of two hours, so there was even cuddling despite my illness! The only downside (other than the nausea and haunting/flu), of course, is that�well, my boyfriend doesn�t know how to watch TV. He�s, like, the smartest person I know, and yet, bless his little heart, he doesn�t get that when the TV is talking, IT�S QUIET TIME. This is what comes from dating someone who doesn�t have cable. He watches TV when he wants to kill some time. I watch TV because it is part of THE MEANING OF LIFE. I need to know what Jade is saying on America�s Next Top Model to make an even bigger ass out of herself than on the previous episode, because IT FEEDS MY SOUL.

Anyway, the weekend fast approaches, as does the coming end of May Day�s and my cohabitation. It�s going to be so weird, y�all�we�ve been roomies for going on four years now, and in a lot of ways it feels kind of like leaving home and going to college. More than you know, too, because about every stick of furniture in our apartment belongs to her, and once she and it have cleared out, that place is going to very closely resemble the rather Spartan dwellings of my collegiate years. I envision Ulrich and I sitting on milk crates and eating Lucky Charms out of Tupperware. That�s what happens when two guys live together.

And THAT is why it�s hard to be gay.

Your Trivia Fact For The Week: There are four cars and eleven lightposts on the back of a ten-dollar bill. I�m Watching: America�s Next Top Model. Okay, for some inexplicable reason, Jade�s utterly repellant behavior just makes me want to watch even more. That NEVER happens to me. I am so ashamed. And: What else? Passions.

A Year Ago, I Said:

I suppose I really should have taken that as a sign, but was just so glad to have an apartment where the bedroom and the living room were separated by more than just my imagination.

One Futon The Grave
3-25-2005

� 2005 by Dr. No, all rights reserved; you break it, you buy it.



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