no computer!

So the problem is, I have no access to a computer. Right now I am at the public library, and while it is fun to sit next to a fat, hairy man that is humming and trying to read what I am writing (hi dipshit!). I don't think it is going to be a long-term solution. I need to get a computer, and pretty damn fast or I might end up sleeping around. Well, maybe not, but without a TV or computer I might have to go out and search for real human interaction, which is never a good thing. I'm thinking about buying a computer from Dell, just because they have a one year warrenty and apparently I can't go for more than a month without breaking my computer anyway. I can get one for $779 with free shipping and all the things I need, sans monitor, which I will deal with later. Anywho, if you like me and want to help get me online, please feel free to drop me a few bucks to lina@shutitdown.net via paypal :D, email me a letter of support. I probably won't get to write back though, because I only get limited time here at the library. :(

Apart from my computer woes, all is well. I am becoming a normal person again, and I actually leave my house. I think it might be the seratonin or something. Dunno. I went crazy at Ikea a few days ago, and oddly enough, saw one of the CHICKS ON SPEED. Crazy, man.

I got this email from null over at DGNR8. Thank god someone is concerned about my well-being.

I've noticed your run in with random squirrels. And i cant help but think about how deadly, yet cute these squirrels are.

The saddest ground squirrels I'd ever seen were part of a gang, in Dallas. They always seemed brave, at first, but if you looked past the switchblades and macho posturing, you could see they just wanted a handful of roasted walnuts. I saw a squirrel kill a man once. There was no wasted energy, just a simple lazy end-over-end sommersault and the deft pull of a sharp blade. The squirrel moved with the lazy precision of a window washer. He hit near the top of the man's neck, and by the time he reached the ground again, he was smoking a cigarette, and the man was dead.

"The ground is our mother," a squirrel once said to me. "We were born on the ground, we live on the ground, and we'll die on the ground. Ain't no thing."

Ah, but you could tell it was. It was obvious that it was a thing, and an important thing at that. More important than nuts, even. These were no tree squirrels, with their techno raves and big stylish pants.

Dallas cops asked me about the killing, but there was little I could tell them.

"He was part of the Loco Posse," I said, "and he moved like a dancer."

The cops, however, were able to tell me about the man I saw die. He'd been a biker with the Rebel Riders, an Oklahoma-based motorcycle gang. He'd been selling cystal meth to the ground squirrel community. The squirrel that killed him had reportedly been unimpressed with the buzz, but the man's associates claimed he was selling the pure stuff.

The thing is, both the squirrel and the man might have been telling the truth. These squirrels were hard.

My intentions are not to frighten and alarm you, I just want you to be aware of what you could possibly be dealing with. And even tho' we don't talk on a daily, or even weekly basis, i still lay awake at nights wondering, if those damn dirty squirrels have harmed you....

Thanks, buddy.