Deja Roe

On this very day last year, I was herding game dweebs into Wal-Mart's layaway dept so they could fight amongst themselves over an Xbox 360. I was also wrapping up loose ends in Macon, preparing my relocation to Gainesville, Florida. Now, exactly one year later and much like the Xbox, my life has turned a complete 360. Once again, I'm undergoing the difficult task of moving, this time however, it's in the midst of the Playstation 3's violent and deadly launch. What does this have to do with video games? absolutely nothing. Fuckin nerd.

Last year around this time, I recall thinking to myself that things wouldn't work out in Gainesville, with my living situation I mean. I remember telling friends and co-workers alike that my friendship with Laura and Teya would fizzle out at some point in the year, and that I'd return to Macon, broken and defeated. Everyone was quick to blindly and ignorantly assure me that in spite of my paranoia, things would work out great between all of us. They were wrong. If you read my last entry, then you've already got a good idea of what I'm getting at; but if you haven't, I suggest you review my previous log for a more indepth look into the psychology (and lunacy) of my bizarre and intolerably crazy roommates; and when I said 'review my log', what I was doing was employeeing the use of sexual innuendo to humorously insinuate that you should perform the act of oral sex upon me.

Those two bitches are inconsiderate and self-absorbed in a way that I will never know, a way that I never wished to bare witness to. Through their mental instability however, I found a window of opportunity to squeeze through. I moved Brock down here, and found a group of people that I can identify with, and although my life is never free of tangles and complications, my head's in a better place; even if my finances aren't.

So here I am, working as a front desk clerk in a barren Day's Inn on SW 13th St. The work is excruciatingly dull, but here, I've got all the time in the world to explore my other interests and hobbies. Right now my main interest is staging our grand exodus from the apartment complex I share with Teya and Laura. Brock and I re-applied at Boardwalk yesterday, the same apartment complex I moved into a year prior. The move-in fees are intimidating, and right now, I'm trying every desparate move I can to raise a substantial amount of money by January 1st; once again, same story from last year. This time though, will be different. I've lived with Brock now for almost a year, and as long as we both pay rent on time, I know we won't have a problem at our new place. We'll be free of loud, obnoxious, and depressing women; and we'll never wake up to The Killers ever again. Laura's loud music can be heard down the street--hell, I'll go as far as saying it can be heard in outer space; and I'll go even further by hypothesizing that it can be heard all throughout the seven layers of hell, even in Satan's ice pit. I can't imagine being buried all the way up to my chest in ice, having to listen to Velvet Acid Christ for all of eternity. I like to think that when I do go to hell, Ol' Custer and I will have the most extravagant barbeque as we slow roast Laura over an open flame, all while we play death metal and other assorted genres of music she can't stand. Custer hated Native Americans, and oh I can guarantee you he'll hate her. But that's besides the point, what really matters is that I'm hungry and I think I'm going to eat a bagel.

It's been a long time, I shouldn't have left you without a dope beat to step to.