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Monday, June 30, 2003

I appear to be embroiled in an unspoken power struggle at home. Aren't unspoken power struggles the best? Much more interesting than the kind openly referenced by the parties involved. I think it's an anglo-american thing--keeping up the appearance that you're above the issue while secretly seething inside. Not that I or my roommates are very anglo. I guess we're rather non-anglo race-wise, being a jew, a black, and an irishman. We're like a truly tasteless joke, only not as funny. (Side question to aryan-nation types: What's with the white supremacy stuff? Get with it. The "master race" get their asses kicked back in the 1940s.)

My roommates and I treat each other curteously (we're not great friends or anything) and ask/answer the important questions (Do you have the rent check? Yup.). But for about two months now, 80% of the apartment's communal plates, dishes, and flatware--plus three or four pots and pans--have been piled high in the kitchen sink, soaking in a fetid soup of city tap water, rancid tomato sauce and godknowswhatelse.

I refuse to do them, I've broken down too many times before. I'm sure the other two feel the same. They'd probably argue that they've broken down before and likewise refuse to wash them on that principle.

I bought some paper plates, plastic cups, and plastic knives, spoon and forks. I keep them hidden in my room and only use them when no one else is around. Am I avoiding confrontation? Probably. Should I just do the dishes? Yeah. Am I going to? No. I'll be moving out in a month or so.

Saturday, June 07, 2003

Just testing...

Do evil sado-masochists go to heaven when they die?

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