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I finished Part X of Sprache a few minutes ago and will now let it steep overnight and examine it with fresh eyes in the morning, when my nerves aren't shot to shit and I'm not crawling out of my skin because my mother came over to "clean" and fill my head with improbable real estate ideas.
She also got a rocket up her ass about me buying a new computer. Now, I'd love a new computer of my own, because Roomie and I occasionally get to fighting like wet badgers in a burlap sack over who gets the computer and for how long. It's stressful and creates undue enmity between us. Being able to write whenever I want to and not whenever he deigns to let me use the computer and Internet connection I paid for would be nice--wonderful, in fact--and likely curb my irrational urge to beat him in his sleep until my frustration is spent.
However, the only disposable income I have is earmarked for the possible Rammstein U.S. tour. The practical voice in my head says that I should go ahead and buy my computer because Rammstein doesn't give a watery rip about U.S. fans and has no intention of honoring their vague promises to come here, but the voice of Murphy's Law(which sounds like Eeyore, by the by)insists that the second I take the money from the fund and buy a computer, Rammstein will announce a full-throttle round of U.S. dates, one of which will be an hour down the road, and I will be left with nothing but the salt of my tears.
In short, goddammit, Rammstein, shit or get off the motherfucking pot.
She also got a rocket up her ass about me buying a new computer. Now, I'd love a new computer of my own, because Roomie and I occasionally get to fighting like wet badgers in a burlap sack over who gets the computer and for how long. It's stressful and creates undue enmity between us. Being able to write whenever I want to and not whenever he deigns to let me use the computer and Internet connection I paid for would be nice--wonderful, in fact--and likely curb my irrational urge to beat him in his sleep until my frustration is spent.
However, the only disposable income I have is earmarked for the possible Rammstein U.S. tour. The practical voice in my head says that I should go ahead and buy my computer because Rammstein doesn't give a watery rip about U.S. fans and has no intention of honoring their vague promises to come here, but the voice of Murphy's Law(which sounds like Eeyore, by the by)insists that the second I take the money from the fund and buy a computer, Rammstein will announce a full-throttle round of U.S. dates, one of which will be an hour down the road, and I will be left with nothing but the salt of my tears.
In short, goddammit, Rammstein, shit or get off the motherfucking pot.
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