that's the joint

Of all the things I should be doing, typing another blog entry is not one of them. Calling it a blog is certainly not one of them.

But I can't help myself.

It's this or work on the script, or worse, it's this or pack my shit.

What I want is an anonymous gift of just one hundred dollars to make sure I don't run out of gas along the way, to make sure I can eat and if I have to, I can sleep somewhere besides my car.

Worry not, I'll get there -- I think the gas is covered. I just like my creature comforts like eating and shelter. I'll make do and then some, so don't sweat the donation Mr. or Mrs. Anonymous. Chris was just kidding.

Hey, if you like laughing, go see Team America. It worked for me. Oh and I found it odd that one character is Chris, "The best martial artist Detroit has to offer." I got a kick out of that. He even wears my trademark yellow-Bono sunglasses.

If you don't like laughing, hang out with a tree for a few hours. That works for me.

This will be, unless something amazing or dramatic takes place soon, the last entry I make before I leave. The plan along the way is to fill a new notebook with ramblings from the road. Every stop I make will include a new passage. When I get back and find the Internet again, I'll fill this space with rants and raves of which you've never seen the likes.

That's right, bitches. I know my propositional phrases and I will kick your asses at Scrabble, too. Right after taking you down a notch with Trival Pursuit. After all, what has my life been if not a trival pursuit?

There are people partying in Albany, NY without me. I wish I could sing to them a song I heard tonight. But it'll wait.

And there are people everywhere with better things to do -- some of them are even doing them. Some of them are like me and avoiding them.

And could this be any more boring to read than I've already made it?

Let's see...

I spent twenty minutes outside swinging my old softball bat and pantomiming a game of catch. From time to time, I picked up a rock or stray pine cone and threw it at a tree. One time I threw a pine cone at a dog because it wouldn't stop barking at me. I didn't hit the dog, I just gave it something else to bark at which was simply a pine cone that landed behind it.

And my profile picture, I stole it from a website from a respected Knoxville news station. Either that guy with my name is an anchor or I went to a lot of trouble to mask my appearance. I haven't decided which, but I have been thinking of a slew of new lies to share with strangers.

When I meet some, I'll tell you how those lies worked out.

For me, lying comes out of one or two different places in my brain. One is the need to entertain myself and the other is my need to entertain myself while I feed my contempt for others.

Thing is, I love everyone. Just sometimes, I don't like everyone and so I have to lash out. Since I love them, I don't want to be mean-mean so I just tell a couple of lies to feed on their gullibility.

Like that time I told someone I was Chris Horne, a news anchor from Knoxville.