Vast Active Destructive Intelligent Systems

Trish & I have both recovered pretty well from the fight we had last week, when the Viagra gave me so much pleasure one night, then none as the orgasm-death recurred from a K. Fantasy, something we both got into, what was & should never have been. We had a heart-to-heart conversation about it the other night, though it emerged in garbled schizo-word salad when I wrote it down the other day.

I think Jeanette read this blog, or my home page, & decided I was a little insane -- though she's supposedly a psychiatric nurse -- then rejected me for it. She's this black BBW I met on the Hot or Not website, something I've wasted an "inordinate" amount of time building up what is largely a picture collection, mostly, I think, to prove to myself that I'm still attractive. Like cybersex, it's a fairly "safe" form of fantasy, because I'm probably never really meet these people.

So when Trish left for work, I went online in order to check my email -- Lucy in the Ogdoad with Diamonds never wrote back; maybe she's angry at me -- & then wasted most of my working day running keyword searches on Hot or Not.

I think I did this because VADIS frightens me. I've begun a new web page about the basketball player I turned into an obsession, with the title, "Now It Can Be Told". (Very Vonnegutsy.) Vadis frightens me so bad that, when I tracked down her phone number & talked to her husband (whom she's most likely divorced) I went thru such a powerful manic upsurge that I had to check into the Hotel Gonzo for 2-3 days, & get a 10 mg. shot of haldol, twice the usual dose, & needed a sleeping pill on top of it. Only the Leery-ness I've experienced with Kimothy has ever equaled it, & that yielded the outline to Machine Messiah.

So I started to fool around with the HTML editor on OpenOffice, but couldn't figure out how to change the text color. I made it up to Jocelynn, then quit for the day.

Trish came home, all excited (manic?) over possibly getting Super Bowl Sunday off, then turned into Cranky Bear when she found I'd spilled some soup in the microwave. We talked for awhile, straightened the issue out.

I fixed fish sticks, baked potatoes, & green beans for supper. I watched Barb Wire afterwards, mostly for Pamela Anderson's tits, then afterwards a Christmas (at this time of year?) show on Encore, then an episode of Battlestar Galactica. What else? It's the new Buffy. We discussed the issue, who is sexier, Sharon or #6?

I woke up around 5:00 again, in spite of 3 temazepam. I think I may be a little manic. The schizophrenia seems to be easing up, though.