inspiration strikes - a break from the monotony

Friday, September 27, 2002

I imbibed a fairly large quantity of alcohol last night. Okay, it wasn't really that much, but prior to last evening, I had curtailed my drinking as of late; yesterday's barroom consumption was in stark contrast to my recent, more ascetic behavior.

It was a pleasant evening, filled with a generous portion of interesting conversation with co-workers, at one of those post-work crowd lounges with the requisite dim lighting, thumping music, and mediocre food. The experience itself wasn't very notable, but the large gathering of coworkers was a throwback to the heady late 90's, when the economy was booming as impressively as the music of this particular lounge.

mattchun 9/27/2002 09:53:00 AM [+] ::
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I used to consider myself a decent writer. Okay, I was a mediocre writer, but I was somewhat prolific. In 9th grade, I wrote a ton of wacky, out there, just plain creative material that stretched my brain and made good use of all those tack-sharp machine-gun-firing neurons up there in the old dura mater. I wrote dirty limericks, short stories, musings on life, nonsensical ramblings, and vituperative diatribes.

Now, if you can believe it, a decade has passed since those halcyon days, and I fear that many of the creative juices that once flowed so freely in my once vibrant cranium, the flowing rivers, the deep wellsprings have run dry. The comfortable damp, mossy forest of my imagination now appears as a desolate, arid desert of cracked, dry earth. I guess that's what three years in the corporate world can do to you.

Okay, so I admit it. I'm a bit jaded. I'm also trying to be a bit too flowery with my writing. Mossy forest of my imagination? Who writes stuff like that?

mattchun 9/26/2002 01:37:00 PM [+] ::
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I'm ready for lunch. I am HUNGRY! FEED ME!

mattchun 9/26/2002 11:45:00 AM [+] ::
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Right. Headed home after another day in the old rat race. I'm hungry. I'll probably get take-out. My kitchen is filled with breakfast foods, but not much else. Milk, Orange Juice, Cereal, about 20 servings of yogurt. Yesterday, Star had a buy one, get one free sale on columbo (which by the way, is the best yogurt -- it's like eating dessert), and I bought a bunch. Later, my roommate purchased a cartful, so we're well stocked up. It's the total bachelor refrigerator -- mostly condiments, some old leftovers, etc. Bye.

mattchun 9/25/2002 06:53:00 PM [+] ::
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"Pimp Juice."
Have you heard this expression? It's the title of a Nelly song, and I'm trying to insert it in the local vernacular, within my circle of influence. This guy Nick tutored a bunch of inner city kids over the summer and they taught him some urban slang. Pimp-Juice was the only thing he could remember. Maybe you need some context -- "Let her loose, she only want me for my pimp juice." I think if I throw that around, it'll boost my street cred.

mattchun 9/25/2002 04:29:00 PM [+] ::
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I'd like to date a musician -- okay, I know that I'm plagiarizing from "High Fidelity," but how great would it be with someone who would write and sing songs for and about you? I'm thinking more Norah Jones and less Brittany Spears here.

mattchun 9/25/2002 03:58:00 PM [+] ::
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Welcome

Ladies and Gentlemen! Welcome to the new site!

I've been meaning to come up with a new hobby, but I've been feeling pretty lazy lately, so this will just have to do.

Part of my motivation is that I feel like I have a lot of interesting ideas (well, interesting to me) that just fall by the wayside. What I really need is a personal assistant who follows me around and takes notes on the witty things that I say. Okay, so this hypothetical personal assistant wouldn't need to sharpen his/her pencil too often, but regardless, it would be nice to have my random musings and ramblings recorded for posterity.

mattchun 9/25/2002 03:07:00 PM [+] ::
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