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5:39 p.m. - 2001-12-11 Self humiliation seems to be my punishment of choice. You see, I really dislike myself a great deal, yet, I also love myself with a passion that Shakespeare himself couldn't express, even if he had one thousand typing monkeys at his disposal. I am a complete fruitcake, yet I take myself way too seriously. I'm an introvert who seeks attention. I am a joker who laughs at myself, not with myself. I'm screwy. My disdain for me manifests itself in a variety of ways, but most often can be observed in self defeating, under achieving behavior ranging from apathy to sabotage. I point out my own personality flaws to people in order to avoid the pain that might occur when I see them discover those flaws for themselves. I sell myself short and ridicule my actions in order to allow myself to continue to exist just so. I place myself in situations that are difficult and set all my sites on whatever task is the least possible, passing up easy success and happiness for the pain and misery of failure. Yet I think I'm the best thing to come around since cartoon animation. It is balance in a sense, but the two extremes are so drastically far apart it feels like I am one of those long poles that circus performers use when they unicycle across the tightrope. All of this begs the question, how am I to be expected to return to normalcy if I have never been anywhere close to it? My lil'sis gave me my X-mas present early. It is the best gift I have ever received. A Garbage Pail Kids key chain with real barfing action. This is the second bodily function key chain that she has graced me with, the first being a pig that poos when you squeeze it, which is the second best present I have ever received. My Sis knows me well. Now apart from the obvious points of delight a GPK barfing key chain holds, i.e. the barfing and the fact that it is a GPK key chain, are the various messages conveyed to the consumer by said key chain via the cartoon voice bubbles printed on the packaging. Most notably "We're Back! This time in the form of fully functioning key chains!" That is clearly the best. This reminds me of another experience I had recently regarding the Garbage Pail Kids. A few months ago I called movie phone to find the closest theater to me that was playing some obscure, snooty art film. It wasn't listed under the first real word in the title so I tried punching in T-H-E as the first three letters. I listened to a list of 30 "The" movies, many of which I had never heard of. To my delight, number thirty on the list was The Garbage Pail Kids Movie! I quickly pressed 3-0, instantly forgetting about the indy film I had been searching for, and was crushed when movie phone guy explained that The Garbage Pail Kids Movie was not playing in a theater near me. Fuck movie phone guy. He's just like that Wonka, building up a little boys hopes and then smashing his dreams to pieces. Obviously, the only way to salvage the situation was to call my friend's answering machine and leave the recording of movie phone guy listing all thirty movies that started with the word "the" in the title. Potstickers, potstickers, potstickers.
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