Garbage in?

The thing about being an editorial assistant on contract basis/data entry temp is that data entry in the dark is like throwing spaghetti at a wall. You keep flinging data at a repository in the hope that at least some of it will stick in a meaningful way. Or that an experienced chef will take pity on you and cover the whole thing in a tasty sauce.

On the bright side, I have seen lots of explicit photographs, and the coffee is unlimited, free, and individually brewed just for me every single time. If I die before December, it will certainly be of Splenda poisoning. Also: complementary tampons!

And I finished reading John Battelle’s “The Search: How Google and Its Rivals Rewrote the Rules of Business and Transformed Our Culture,” which I quite enjoyed. Naturally, it jives well with “The Long Tail.” Now on to “Everything Bad Is Good for You.”

Well, Ebert & Roeper Gave It Two Thumbs Up.

Within the past three days, just about EVERY SINGLE MALE FRIEND THAT I HAVE has either e-mailed, texted, IM’d, or straight up called me to gush about/invite me to see “Jackass: Number 2” with them.

We’re talking men from all aspects of my life: work, martial arts, the gym, and…MY DAD. Do none of you guys know me AT ALL???

I mean, come on. Dad.

After a brief stint in a local hospital, it seems that my father is okay, if a bit dehydrated. It’s not my nature to ask questions when I can quietly sneak info from behind your back, but intel on his actual condition is eluding me. Possibly my mother knows, and I can ask her.

Also, that damned Justin Timberlake song is stuck in my head.

…And All’s WRONG with the World…

Today, one of the new black belts saw me doing patterns and said that I looked “evil.” Ha! I’ve still got the moxie.

It’s the Bald Evil Guy, I Admit It

Golly, it’s almost time for the season premiere of “Smallville” on the new CW! If you recall, when last we left our heroes and villains, Lex Luthor had been possessed by Zod, and Clark Kent was whining about it! Really. It’s just as bad as it sounds. It’s… Look, I don’t know why I watch it, I just can’t look away.

Shoe mileage: 106

Irony

If I quit martial arts, I’d have more time to go jogging, and I’d actually be much thinner. This would probably raise my value on the meat market.

Was screwed over by the MTA bus system AGAIN, and it took me three hours to get home. I’m taking the over-the-counter sleeping pills because I have to be awake and commuting back to work in another six and half hours. I know all of you think this is a luxurious amount of time, and I know you’re all getting much more done on just four or five hours of shut-eye, but what can I say? — I’m weak. I keep thinking that if I sacrificed some blood, slit a wrist maybe, the MTA gods would smile upon me. Irrational, I know, but at this point I’m willing to try anything.

The average New Yorker’s commute is 34.2 minutes. Obviously, I am not working hard enough.

Phew!

My most primal emotional response to the fall lineup of iPods is relief that every cell in my body isn’t screaming for me to buy a new one. On the other hand, I may soon need to foist a Shuffle or two on my parents, just to free up the surface real estate on top of the fridge currently inhabited by the CD player.

Finished reading “The World Is Flat,” which I liked, and my reserved copy of “The Search” (the Google story – yes, I know you’re all f***ing sick of Google) arrived at the NYPL. I may get a handle on things yet!

Shoe mileage: 102

PSA

Did you know that White Castle burgers can be purchased in a cellophane wrapped 2-pack from a vending machine, just like a Hostess Twinkie? Well, a quick tour of my office kitchen says they can!

Mind you, this isn’t a good idea.

They Have No Vocal Chords, and They Must Speak

OH MY GOD, ONE OF THE FISH JUST DID THE NOISE THING!!!!!

I’ll be leaving now. In an armored truck, if possible.