Thursday 20th May 2004

'eat your heart out' is the dumbest expression ever

well, I was quite less drunk last night than previously foretold. disappointing, really; I love those drunken posts [aside] just as much as the next person. on the other hand, I slept much better than previously foretold. do I need more? the answer is always yes. P(yes)=1. (I can't stop thinking in these terms.)


good morning america is on behind me. it makes me want to close this post by saying, 'I'm antimatt, hatelife action news, my living room.'


posted by antimAtt @ 7.44 (gmt+0000)
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Wednesday 19th May 2004

you have [lim,n,inf (n)] unread messages. see queue?

t plus one hour. finally, it's t PLUS something. and i am

SO.
FUCKING.
BEAUTIFUL.


and now I can stop dwelling.

tonight is happy drunken night at my house! starring yours truly. admission is one bottle; check your inhibitions at the door.

this feels nicer than expected.


posted by antimAtt @ 13.06 (gmt+0000)
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Tuesday 18th May 2004

to sleep, perchance to wake up in a cold sweat

t minus eleven hours and to bed I go.

in the morning I shall do well, and then I shall stop dwelling on this. I can already hear your collective sigh of relief. believe me, there are other things in life I'd much rather dwell upon.


I don't believe in luck. instead, please wish me probability.



good night, dear sweet hatelife. I love you all so very much. especially you.

-matt.


posted by antimAtt @ 21.27 (gmt+0000)
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Monday 17th May 2004

P[this post is not lame] = 0

t minus two days. more precisely, t minus (one day and ten hours).

will I make it? internal oracle is conspicuously silent.


numbers will not stop running through my head. some people count sheep; I count probability and integrals and covariance. between the migraine and this apparent incapacity to mentally drop something, I'm convinced my brain has it out for me.



disturbing similarity:

the day after tomorrow (reality): I take a certain exam.
The Day After Tomorrow (the movie): the world ends.

this does not bode well.



self-plagiarism:

[lstratum: bad sign]


this is not a good sign.




CORNER OF FUN MATH
omens to date: n
ill omens to date: n
=> P[x is ill | x is an omen] = 1.

I hate probability, especially when it works against me.


posted by antimAtt @ 22.26 (gmt+0000)
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I'd rather be hung over, with unsharpened pencils stabbed in my eyes

fill in the blank: ____ is worse than a migraine.

(however it is a trick question. no word, real or contrived, in any language, can make that sentence true.)


if pain were a contest I'd have found the winner.

here: every quantum of time is a new alternate state of consciousness, every breath something to dread, every heartbeat a new low and after every heartbeat (the space between the pain) a new high.

the tingling in my fingertips just makes it more fun to type, head. you'll have to do better than that if you want to keep me from doing anything at all today.

though nearly not being able to read the screen was a clever idea.


why does this always happen on monday?

why me?

who am I?



answer:
e. all of the above.


posted by antimAtt @ 10.13 (gmt+0000)
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Sunday 16th May 2004

POST is an anagram of STOP

the home stretch: three days to go. and as the days go by the queue gets larger and larger.

on the horizon: uppers in the morning, downers in the evening. what a strange lump of chemicals I am, being so easily persuaded by other, smaller, pill-shaped lumps of chemicals.

when I got home tonight there were six messages on the phone. specifically there were six messages on the phone for my roommate. I don't know why I have a phone anymore. I could easily disconnect it and hide it somewhere in the house, like in the washing machine, and he would never know where to find it. if you know what I mean. all of my calls come through the mobile, because that's the only number I give out. so why do I help pay the phone bill? it's an interesting situation, really. it seems that it would be more fair to have the roommate's girlfriend help pay the bill and also some rent besides.

ROOMMATE it is your turn to do the dishes, they are developing a funk and so am I.

(I'm choosing my battles, though; you all would be very proud of me.)


where has all my substance gone? I'm afraid I must have dropped it into the envelope I used to pay the phone bill last month.



[aside]


posted by antimAtt @ 19.49 (gmt+0000)
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hail the king of the internet

"it's a perfect day for punching birds. they chirp and squeak and bother me and fly around my head and wake me up when i'm in bed."
-drew, from the smash hit 'perfect day' (off his multi-platinum album, the floor is made of lava)


DREW thank you for so many little things in so many little ways, you are a genius in the strictest sense of the word.


posted by antimAtt @ 13.22 (gmt+0000)
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