11.27.2004

I feel crabby today.

Let's feel crabby together. Let's do a crabby cheer:

Go away!
Go away!
Go the fuck away!
Leave me alone.
Rah!

11.26.2004

Nothing funny about depression??!!

What do you MEAN there's nothing funny about depression? Look. If you grow up in a repressed, NYC-Irish-Catholic, alcoholic family, you had better find the humor in really dark places if you expect to get out of this world ever having truly lived at all.

At my grandfather's wake, we put a book of his favorite crossword puzzles in the casket. Figured we'd give him something to do while he was hanging out and waiting for the "dead to rise again."

But we didn't put in the answers. I mean, if he gets stuck, he can ask God, right?

That'll keep him from cheating.

I miss that man.

So, if you would never think of doing anything like that or would never find playing a prank on a DEAD PERSON to be the least bit funny, then you will HATE my journal. Don't say I didn't warn you.