It would seem that if you search Yahoo for pointless life, I am hit number 16. Oh dear.

I wrote this today in about 3 hours.

The glowing red LED lights next to his face kindly informed him that he was late for work.
Wonderful, Orr Landeaux thought to himself as he threw himself off the bed. He walked to the bathroom and fumbled for the light switch. Normally this was not needed; the bathroom had a window facing east and in the morning the room was blinding. Not so today. Slate covered the sky, solid and uniform. And not moving.
Orr looked at himself in the mirror. His eyes, usually blue, decided to match the sky outside. Bracing himself against the sink, he leaned closer to the mirror. The gray orbs, tinged with red from running thoughts that wore a man out while he slept, seemed distant. They belonged outside to the flat sky.
Orr shook his head rapidly, trying to clear out the thoughts from the night and morning before. All this seemed to do was splatter them, tainting surfaces with partial memories and hazy images. His walls now a fractal reminder of everything. Jackson Pollack smiled at him from the toilet.
Determined to wash this off, Orr plunged into his shower. Hot on, cold off. His flesh was turning red, but sensation was starting to creep back into his numb mind, and for this he was grateful. A reflection of the clock off of the bathroom mirror and through the shower curtain made him sigh. As needed as this peeling was, he had to get going.
I have to get going, he said grabbing a towel and drying off. He stopped, and again looked in the mirror, and studied his mouth as he said it repeatedly, each syllable taking longer to pronounce than the one before.
I have to get going.
I. Have. To. Get. Going.
Going.
A smile danced across his face. He really did have to get going. He realized this. No stagnation today. No sitting. Moving. There will be moving.
The idea of simply doing and being in motion pleased him greatly. He walked over to his closet and looked inside. Black slacks, gray slacks, brown slacks. Brown shirts, grey shirts, white shirts. All of them stifling, muted - but it was his business attire. Resigned, he removed a pair of black slacks and a gray shirt when the sky shot out on a hanger. He had forgotten about this shirt. Bright blue. Bought on a whim a year ago, and never worn for fear of breaking the unspoken dress code at work.
But today he was moving. And he didn’t really care. He grabbed the blue shirt and noted happily that it didn’t need ironing. He put it on, along with the black slacks, black dress shoes and black socks. He contemplated brewing the usual coffee, but decided there was no time, he had to move, so he settled for orange juice instead.
Out the door he stepped, into the hall, down the elevator, past the doorman, and onto the gray concrete of the city. Work was ten blocks away. He was late, he should take a cab. But today was not a day for sitting, it was a day for moving. It was a day for blue shirts and orange juice.
So he started walking on gray concrete into a gray horizon. Down the mirrored halls of the city the buildings captured the gray, wallowed in it. Smeared it over their pillars and windows.
After a block, Orr felt a small prick at the base of his back. He paid it no mind, he was moving. And nothing was going to make him slow down. The small pain quickly faded, and he sped up a minute amount.
A minute later, the same sensation. A small prick at his back. But it too faded, leaving Orr with nothing but a faster pace.
This happened eight more times before the end of the third block, and now Orr was moving almost at a jog.
Another two blocks and seventeen more pricks, seventeen more slight increases in speed. A slight run.
Twenty-eight more pricks by the end of the seventh block had Orr moving swiftly, running, deftly dodging other pedestrians and the occasional dog. This was phenomenal, he exclaimed. He was moving faster, and faster. Effortlessly. He couldn’t understand why no one else was running on this gray day, no one else was moving. Nothing but a sea of gray and black and brown raincoats and trench coats trudging.
Oh well, their loss. I’m moving.
At the end of the tenth block, after forty-one more slight pricks, after forty-one more slight increases in speed, he was moving impossibly fast. He had no intentions of stopping at his office now, he simply blew past it. He had never ran this fast in his life, and he wasn’t even tiring. Faster, faster, faster, until he realized he no longer heard the rasping of his shoes on the concrete.
He looked down as his legs pumped furiously a few inches from the ground.
This makes no sense, Orr thought. Flying? I can’t fly.
But there he was, traversing rapidly over the ground, and slowly but surely rising into the sky.
As he ascended over the street and between the pillars of gray, he caught a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye. Looking to his left, Orr realized it was his blue shirt that defied the uniform color of the buildings, ground, and clouds; a bright patch of sky rising to the heavens and obscuring the clouds.
He laughed to himself at the thought of a blue patch of sky reversing the order of things and hiding clouds.
It was then that he saw his back in the reflection. Covered in small, fluttering birds.
Birds. About one hundred, all beating their wings in unison, beaks stuck firmly in his shirt.
Orr broke into a huge grin at the absurdity of the moment. All of the birds, in search of a blue sky in the midst of all this gray, had flown into the back of his shirt and stuck. Pushing him. Moving him. They did not realize they were in a shirt; they were just following the endless blue sky they saw before them. The sky they longed for on gray days.
Higher and higher Orr rose, soaring until he was well above the city. Looking down, he studied the veins and arteries of people and traffic, reveling in the sight.
Downtown traffic was in a snarl as it always was. Traffic crawled, and people hurried from one gray building to one yellow car and from one yellow car to another gray building with disturbing frequency.
Orr then realized something. Downtown just wasn’t moving. People followed their work paths, their routines whittled down for maximum efficiency - living lives that would make Taylor smile. Every movement with a purpose, everything broken down into its simplest component. For the first time, Orr pitied the workers.
Watching his former self below began to depress Orr, so he looked to the east and studied the mountains. There, on a winding road, he spotted an orange U-Haul truck silently gliding on the desolate road.
Now there, he thought, was moving. Packing up, moving out, starting again.
Orr smiled at the thought of starting over, and of his own moving on, up, out.
The birds still drove him upwards relentlessly toward the blanket of slate, though now they also slowly turned to head out over the ocean. Orr spread his fingers, letting the wind play though them as it also danced through his hair.
Higher still he rose.
Up, up, up.
Through the cloudbank Orr burst. Bathed in blue light, he began laughing. “Higher! Up! Move!” he cried joyously to the birds with tears streaming down his cheeks.
They did not listen. Having finally found their sky, feeling it slide across their black and brown feathers, they scattered in all directions.
Orr began tumbling, a whirl of arms and legs plunging back down through the clouds. No longer flying but falling, falling, falling down toward the blue water below.
Screaming.
Then laughing.
Orr straightened his body out, spreading his arms to embrace the wind while tilting down. He was moving, no longer falling but flying, flying, flying down toward the blue water below.
Orr flew down into the deep blue ocean.
And up into the deep blue sky.

ok. really going to bed now.

but quickly: pearly is ok. talk show host black dog remix, though, is something else....this big dark beautiful lurching awkward creation...

found a different version of alice's restaurant...pleasepleasePLEASE remind me to play it for you. I see you smiling and laughing and having to get up and fall on the bed with your voice dancing.

the thought of going back into bed right now repulses me and makes me shake.but.I.need.sleep.

soon.

gragh.

found this, downloading now. no idea what it sounds like

but I love the lyrics. just because.

How'd you get your teeth so pearly?
Dew-drop dentures
White-washed faces
She runs from the third world, pearly

Vanilla (feel it crawl to me)
Milkshakes (crawl back again)
From Hard Rock (whatever you say)
Cafes (it won't go away)
That's where (I feel it crawl to me)
She got her (crawls back again)
Sweet tooth (it won't go away)
For white boys (whatever you say)
She runs from the third world, pearly

Hurts me
Darling use me
Darling use me
Darling use me

Radiohead - Pearly

I was just in the kitchen pouring a glass of milk and I heard a sound I didn't recognize...so I wandered out of the kitchen and into the living room/dining room to track it down...

...it was the ceiling fan. running normally.

oh dear.

this is just getting silly.

....hovering on edge. usually I at least have some reason or pseudoreason....not this time. it's just here. I'm sure it will be gone by morning, I just need to sleep.

probably just overtired.

and hungry. I'm going to eat a peanut butter rice cake.

and it will be tasty.

was asleep, fitfully, am now almost wide awake. been a long time since pure insomnia. it is very disquieting. I am tense and jittery for no reason.Head stuffed, eyes burn. I don't really like this.

going to put on beck's sea change. hopefully it will help.

bouncebouncebouncebouncecoffeecoffeecoffecoffee

clean floor. almost. as clean as its getting tonight. will have to attack later with sponge and comet. then it will be done. but it is a hell of a lot better now.

Ok, since I didn't even know it was BROKEN until last night...

here is my new guestbook!

8-bit Theater - fun for all!

-

B: "...because I'm attracted to the same type of women you are."

-

B: "It's hard to find good lesbian porn."
R: "No it's not - here." (opens i.e.)

posted before. will post again. needs to be must be done.

today is a lovely day to run
start up the car with the sun

packing blankets and dirty sheets
a roomful of dust and a broom to sweep up
all the troubles you and i have seen

cross when the drawbridge light is green
don't look back to that messed up scene

packing blankets and dirty sheets
a roomful of dust and a broom to sweep up
all the troubles you and i have seen

and all our troubles will be gone
blowing out over that bridge
floating up into the sky
making the storm clouds cry

la da da da da
la la da da da da

put out that smoke and breath some air
get a new name and cut your hair

packing blankets and dirty sheets
a room full of dust and a broom to sweep up
all the troubles you and i have seen

Eels - Packing Blankets

drive safe

need to fucking get DONE with this half of spanish so I can throw my shit off my bed, crawl into it, then fall asleep so I can wake up an hour or so befroe my alarm goes off because that's the fucking trend now isn't it. but at least I'll be away from this damned desk and the cigar box for a few hours.

edit added a minute later
this work is pushing me closer and closer not the distraction I need this is no.good. so fuck it I'm sleeping. setting alarm earlier, so maybe I'll wake up when it goes off and have the world right itself while I'm down.

i swear this is one giant celtic knot.

the acoustic version of Laid is very good. yes.

tired, running fingers through hair, and will probably brew some coffee. spanish work to be done, room is a mess. ate too much. thinking too much, more here but cute edit paste bury, but oh be sure to leave hints yes hints fucker. I think I just need sleep...so seductive, though, I can't help but wonder if that's what I really need at this point. and no, this is not from you this is me doing something entirely different I'll be ok I'll be fine just need else.

evil! Congratulations on being the creator of a new Evil Plan (tm)!
Your objective is simple: Widespread Misery
Your motive is a little bit more complex: Hatred for all mankind
Stage One:
To begin your plan, you must first Seduce a Pope. This will cause the world to sit up and take notice, stunned by your arrival. Who is this Despoiler of all that is Good and Nice and True? Where did they come from? And why do they look so good in a Corporate Suit?
Stage Two:
Next, you will Sabotoge the Moon (ooh, tides!). This will cause countless hordes of Mad Scientists to flock to you, begging to do your every bidding. Your name will become synonymous with Sheer dementedness, as lesser men whisper your name in terror.
Stage Three:
Finally, you will Activate your Needlessly Big Weather Machine, bringing about Something That's Really Metal. This will all be done from a Medieval Castle, an excellent choice if we might say. These three deeds will herald the end, and the citizens of this planet will have no choice but to elect you their new god.
Trust us, it'll all come together in the end.

I know me and I knew this was going to happen because its what I do. I cannot fail if I do not do. I need to do this I should do this I can do this but argh tense and NO and want to curl up and be quiet and not move but shake. Wanted to reward myself with /////// but what the fuck is that at which point did this evil thing that manifests itself through my fingers become a reward and something I desire to do passively. I want to be onedgeonedgeonedge, I want to drink 8 cups of coffee and force myself into feeling everything at once in obliteration and wound so tight only loud music acting as my heart will pound things through my veins . This is not me this is sick. And if this is me I don't want to be me anymore and someone else can fill this body.






this is not going to be fun but i will finish what i started one way or another

British Government + Students + Oral Sex

I don't know what to say about this.

::scratches head::

In other news, here's a random quote!

"I have a lesbian starter kit on my desk!"

Cy Coe (7:57:56 PM): bought another zebra f-402(the greatest pen ever constructed) and a notebook. heh.
BadBrad526 (7:58:20 PM): dork
Cy Coe (7:58:45 PM): well, I didn't have a goodsmall notebook.
BadBrad526 (7:58:51 PM): the pen man, the pen
Cy Coe (7:58:57 PM): and my current zebra pen is almost out of ink and I couldn't find a refill.
BadBrad526 (7:59:01 PM): i see
Cy Coe (7:59:05 PM): dude, you're right. it is THE pen.
BadBrad526 (7:59:40 PM): did you get it from sPENcers?
Cy Coe (7:59:50 PM): no
Cy Coe (7:59:57 PM): but it was a little exPENsive.
Cy Coe (8:00:10 PM): http://www.gearshark.com/finder/details/Zebra-F-402-Retractable-Ballpoint-Pen/254411.html
BadBrad526 (8:00:14 PM): cash in a PENsion to get it?
Cy Coe (8:00:30 PM): no, but I did use a few PENnies.
BadBrad526 (8:00:48 PM): jamie wants to know if you are lacking a PENis
Cy Coe (8:01:05 PM): hahahah
BadBrad526 (8:01:40 PM): we win!
Cy Coe (8:01:52 PM): I refuse to answer such a question!
BadBrad526 (8:02:02 PM): we are off to blockbuster
Cy Coe (8:02:03 PM): I will remain indePENdant of your silly questions.
Cy Coe (8:02:29 PM): you aren't going to ask for forgiveness for your off-color remark?
Cy Coe (8:02:33 PM): you should rePENt.
Cy Coe (8:03:15 PM): is your response PENding?
BadBrad526 (8:03:20 PM): my answer is PENding
Cy Coe (8:03:22 PM): or have you been defeated?
BadBrad526 (8:03:22 PM): ah
BadBrad526 (8:03:23 PM): damnit
Cy Coe (8:03:24 PM): HAHAH!
Cy Coe (8:03:25 PM): I WIN!
BadBrad526 (8:03:26 PM): damnit damnit damnit
BadBrad526 (8:03:42 PM): later hardon
BadBrad526 (8:03:46 PM): good luck tomorrow
Cy Coe (8:03:48 PM): Now go! I disPENse thee!
Cy Coe (8:03:51 PM): thanks. :D
Cy Coe (8:04:02 PM): you're exPENdable.


mwahaha! I win the battle of the puns!

...for now. This is but one small battle in a much larger war.

TEN! I MEAN TEN!

8!

wait, 7!

wow, 6 posts today!

Topic: Is "gay" okay?, Clint's gay and I'm cool with it . . .

Oh dear. I'm having too much fun with this.Devon makes it far, far too easy.

"And what the fuck are you talking about researching before posting? Look proffessor, I don't have endless time to go read up some 125 page legal document, nor would I bother to anyway considering this is merely a casual forum discussion. It's not like anything we say here is going to pass some fucking law."

My 5 minute google search.

god forbid we have intelligent conversation...

Notes for self and other(s) who read this about tomorrow:

meet at 9:30am outside rec. & wellness center
talk to photographer & organizer
find someone (or sometwo) to follow
stay awake for the next 24 hours...
(and hopefully not be sick)
1,000 words, feature, anecdotal lead

due monday, 9pm, emailed. word doc. and paste in email to be sure.

original lyrics to idioteque say "here I'm allowed / everything all of the time"

I've always misheard them. After finding out the real lyrics, I like mine better anyway.

here i'm alive / everything all of the time

(initially) forced viewing of photos then attempted shortshort nap (abandoned) then shower now food. inching back to (sub)human? Class in fifty for one-twenty then done with requirements until the 6:15 deadline i love. Then s t a l k for one-thousand four-hundred forty-four (where do those damn hyphens go?....elementary school long gone.) then weekend will be with...

(out)

(nothing)




ignore strangeness here. weird mood weird writing weird posts. someone gag me with a spoonl of tape.

tired and ick and blah and tense in more ways then one. need to shutdowncrashout but at this point if I did it would only be for an hour at most and that would do me little good. or maybe not. bed is calling, though sleep is hard to hear over the din inside.

this week can not be over soon enough.

Emails. Plans are set. 9:30 a.m. foray into journalism for 25 hours of stalking dancers and scribbling furiously (and, more than likely, copius painkiller/cough medicine / caffeine consumption).

Let me through, I'm a doctor of journalim!

also, note to self:
atom simulcast on net today, 4-6 est. check http://www.atomandhispackage.com (shows) for link to radio site.

UCF Future editor: "Do you have any plans this weekend?"
Innocent, inexperienced, UCF journalism major: "No, I don't."
UCF Future editor: "Ok, you're covering the UCF 24-hour Dance marathon this weekend. It's going to be a feature, 1,000 words."

Holy. Shit.

Still awake? Don't know why. Nothing's wrong, just no sleep right now.

Maybe I've underestimated caffeine's effect on me, running on 3 cups. Just wanted coffee. Feeling very stop! Go! Type! Now! Media! TV! Music! Blog! What? Sleep! No! Bed! Tasty.

Of course, could also be the fact that I slept a lot today.

But....meh.

Feelin' fine.

Oh yeah....and why am I still awake?

coffeecoffeecoffeecoffee

In other news, roommate Jimmy seems to be missing in action. I'm sure he'll turn up. Just find it interesting that it's 2:15 a.m. and he has yet to return from work which ended at about 10.

Wow. Just wow. I watched "The Cathedral", an animated short up for an Oscar in that category...it's just beautiful. Excellent, excellent CG. To those of you who know me and want to see it, send me an IM and I will gladly send you the file. It's 60 megs, but worth every byte.

And I would just like to say "wow." I've had about 5 hits in the past 2 days from people searching for lyrics to Jon Brion's song "Here We Go" from the Punchdrunk Love soundtrack. Probably a total of 10 or 15 hits from those lyrics. To those of you hitting this site looking for the lyrics, check out my archives here. Oh, and leave a message! Say hello!

Damn good song, isn't it?

http://my.aol.com/news/news_story.psp?type=4&cat=0806&id=030217145822172206

The Man is comin' around.

Gogo Johnny Cash!

"It's just swallowing, and then food in the food stomach."

Aww, poor thing. Here. I just kissed you on your nose. Feel better soon.

http://my.aol.com/news/news_story.psp?type=1&cat=0600&id=030214173536161994

Saddam has banned weapons of mass destruction.

Well, good. Now everything will go back to normal.

unseen-until-after-call words of Neruda helping to make everything brighter. eating pieces of him doesn't neccessarily sound like a bad idea.

http://www.truenuff.com/comic.php?day=20030205
webcomics help, too.

balancing. eating.

"The 2001 report said North Korea's Taepo Dong 2 missile may be capable of hitting the West Coast of the United States, as well Alaska and Hawaii.

The revelation came shortly after the United Nations nuclear watchdog agency declared North Korea in breach of international nuclear agreements and sent the issue to the U.N. Security Council. (Full story)

The International Atomic Energy Agency's 35-nation executive board voted 31-0 to cite Pyongyang for being in breach of U.N. safeguards. Two countries, Russia and Cuba, abstained. "

Russia, North Korea, Cuba...wait a second.

http://www.drunkduck.com/Kitschcore_Studios_Presents/index.php

Lesbian anti-christ? Gay superhero called Sodomight?

yep.

ok. more lyrics. yeah, I know, this is turning into a lyric depository.

...and I kind of like it like that.

curious of many things but too lazy to move / far enough to spread the wings i stuck on with old glue / if the cloud cover maintains it's reign on summer / i'll still shine pale white next to a tender tan / worn in place of the innocent girl / i hardly understand / perfect at most social gatherings of no more than ten / perfectly groomed people keeping tabs on what they spend / i don't have many ways to tame the boring / but if you'd like to stay i'll tell you all i know / about politics, music and drugs / and then it's time to go / dear, i looked for days but found / only arrows pointing straight between my ears / and i could almost say a sound / i'd rather sit and stare with you my dear

slowreader - politics music & drugs

spunky don't like her uniform
it never fit so good
going back to the orphanage
and the place where her garage once stood


well it's a free-for-all
free-for-all, free-for-all
it's a free-for-all you and me
and if you don't like what they are telling you
you can't teach a blind man to see
well i can see


spunky looks good in her bright red wig
eating chocolate chip mint ice cream
a cat named lola with a violent past
is balled-up asleep 'cross her knees


and it's a free-for-all
free-for-all, free-for-all
it's a free-for-all you and me
one day the world will be ready for you
and wonder how they didn't see


spunky knows she can save the world
in her own little way
turning in her old uniform
'cause you know it really didn't pay


'cause it's a free-for-all
free-for-all, free-for-all
it's a free-for-all you and me
i'll walk through the world with your name on my tongue
and your picture etched on my screen

eels - spunky

running through beautiful freak, stopping to linger on a few tracks, feeling mandchild and smiling. thank you.

I am thinking it's a sign that the freckles in our eyes are mirror images and when we kiss they're perfectly aligned. I have to speculate that God himself did make us into coresponding shapes like puzzle pieces from the clay. True it may seem like a stretch but it's thoughts like this that catch my troubled head when you're away when I am missing you to death. When you are out there on the road for several weeks at shows and when you scan the radio I hope this song will guide you home. They will see us waiting from such great heights come down now, they'll say. But everything is perfect from far away come down now, but we'll stay. I try my best to leave this all on your machine but the persistent beat it sounded thin upon the sending. And that frankly will not fly you will hear the shrilling highs and lowest lows with the windows down when this is guiding you home. They will see us waiting from such great heights come down now, they'll say. But everything is perfect from far away come down now, but we'll stay.

The Postal Service - Such Great Heights

indie+newwave? 'tis fun.

Observe the below! Stolen from http://www.eelstheband.com

The new EELS album "SHOOTENANNY!" is due to be released on DreamWorks Records June 3, worldwide. We'll keep you posted with any and all developments. For now, here is the proposed SHOOTENANNY! track listing:
All In A Day's Work
Saturday Morning
The Good Old Days
Love Of The Loveless
Dirty Girl
Agony
Rock Hard Times
Restraining Order Blues
Lone Wolf
Wrong About Bobby
Numbered Days
Fashion Awards
Somebody Loves You

Do you mind if I have recurring nightmares about you? ANSWER ME!

- RSG

http://slate.msn.com/id/2077925/

Sure, SBS, sure...now go awaywith this frivolous bullshit.

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story&u=/ap/20030203/ap_on_en_mo/vatican_harry_potter_3

A friend zinged this my way. I just found the story fun.

And now, back to your regularly scheduled doom and gloom!

http://www.thememoryhole.org/pol/florida-ballots.htm

what to do with 6 million pieces of paper?

Which OS are You?

ah, the internet. how I love the ease with which you suck away my life with pointless things!

::looks down::

Ah, late night ramblings. How I love thee! Or something.

delat delay delay
wait wait wait

my life is a neverending holding pattern, putting off what should&needs to be done. why bother to land and refuel when you can crash and take flight again?

putting off sleep. waiting now so maybe i won't be waiting later

i hate me for this

despite 2 tests today, I am very smiley and happy. will post more later, but I have to go. just wanted to say that!

oh yeah, and redid poetry archive. is now commentable and mroe easy to update!
http://www.livejournal.com/users/blackskyasphalt

Time for online goodness! Political style!

http://www.digitalronin.f2s.com/politicalcompass/questionnaire.pl On this one I'm:
Economic Left/Right: -1.12
Authoritarian/Libertarian: -5.85

http://www.self-gov.org/lp-quiz.shtml
On this one, I'm pegged as 90% personal self-gov, 60% economic self-gov., making me a left-leaning libertarian.

Man, how my political views have changed in 2 years...

HUZZAH!!!!!!!

my journal is back online. for this I am very relieved. and happy.

Randomness from the Dead Milkmen. Too much Apocalypse Now? Enjoy!

It's a beach party Vietnam
Surfin' with the Viet Cong
Cookin' hot dogs with napalm
A beach party Vietnam

Frankie and Annette were
Layin' on the sand
When Frank got a letter
From his Uncle Sam

It said: Get Moon Dog and
All your friends
You're all invited to a

Beach party Vietnam
Surfin' with the Viet Cong
Cookin' hot dogs with napalm
A beach party Vietnam

- Hey Frankie, aren't you gonna give me your class ring?
- Oh I'm afraid I can't do that, Annette
- Why not?
- 'Cause I don't have any arms!
(AH!)

Beach party Vietnam
Surfin' with the Viet Cong
Cookin' hot dogs with napalm
A beach party Vietnam

Annette, she wants Frankie's ring
Frankie wants Annette's thing
They're layin' on the West Coast
There's gonna be a wiener roast

Beach party Vietnam
Surfin' with the Viet Cong
Cookin' hot dogs with napalm
A beach party Vietnam

Dead Milkmen - Beach Party Vietnam

day: looking much better.
thank you.

oh yeah. and it looks like I'll never get back the 160 entries I had in another journal that I was writing in...gone. lost. poof.

joy. there were quite a few very important things in there that I never wanted to forget,but now...
argh. I don't want to think about it.

sleepnow?
maybe.
but I really don't want to.