Sep. 9th, 2002

blustocking: (nielsen(crop))
Mother fuck. Netscape fall down, go boom, lose update. I will be half-way intelligent this time and type this out in Word.

When I left the apartment this afternoon, I went to close the door and noticed a rather odd brownish-orange tint on everything. I turned around and looked up at the sun and saw a hazy, yellowish cloudlike filth covering it. I thought maybe I slept through some bomb droppage or a large fire, but no...that's just Los Angeles.

Currently, the sun is a surreal ball of fire setting on the horizon among a tinge of violet and pink.

I work in an odd industrial/commerical/residential neighborhood. It's as if the best and worst of this town has converged in this area, meeting in waves of strip malls, restaurants, stores, movie studios, a bakery, and a meat packing plant(the meat packing plant's slogan is: "You Can't Beat Our Meat"). I often have to disembark the bus at Meat Corner and walk the two blocks to work. Meat Corner is appropriately named. Imagine rotting beef, fresh beef, and bus exhaust all wrapped in a wonderful heady bouquet.

But today, I could draw another association... )

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