So.... I did absolutely nothing when I went to the station today. Just watched this one guy edit stuff for like 7 hours. Crushingly boring. I wanted to hurt myself with office supplies.

At least it was a guy I know (he's a TV-10 alum), so we had some conversation, though I was still hugely bored and not learning things like I wanted to learn things which is the point of going there even though they don't pay me. Anyway, I was mentioning how I don't have a job and how people never hire me because I'm "crack addicty" at job interviews, and he was all, "Apply at K-mart and use my brother as a reference! They loved him there!"

and I was like, "Won't he get mad? I barely know him."

and he was like, "No, he wouldn't."

True story.

Anyway, I need the money. The sweet, sweet K-mart scratch.

Lastly, here is a conversation about bastards:

Phoemeister: oooh. Bookstores are cool. At least I imagine working at one would be nice. If you get a discount on merch.
Phoemeister: Plus, people who read are generally more educated, and hence slightly less obnoxious than the general public
Phoemeister: when you deal with them
Kin: Hopefully.
Phoemeister: true
Phoemeister: I was pretty much talking out my ass right then
Phoemeister: I've never worked in a bookstore
Kin: lol...That's okay.
Kin: They say the same thing about musicians, but it just isn't true. Sure, most are pretty cool, but man...There are some who are just annoying as hell.
Kin: And stupid, to boot.
Phoemeister: hunh.
Phoemeister: that's too bad.
Phoemeister: I guess there's no sure way to decide that people aren't bastards before you meet them
Kin: Yep. There's really not. Unless there was some sort of activity that only bastards could partake in.
Phoemeister: true. Like.... bastard three legged races, or bastard eating contests.
Kin: Or only non-bastards for that matter. But then, if there were something that only bastards could do, someone could arrange for there to be an "accident" during it, and then the world would be a little less bastardful.
Kin: Mm....Bastard eating contests. I love me a nice, juicy bastard.