My discipline is breaking down. A truth I’ve learned through many painful lessons is that I am utterly incapable of working at home. Home is home and the place of food, sleep, sex, video games and movies. Hmmm, that’s an interesting chronology that just flowed out of my impaired consciousness. I wonder if it means anything. I don’t think so, I rarely watch movies or play video games anymore. Deadline panic is providing the impairment. I am having difficulty preventing my perspective from widening out from the tunnel vision that I so desperately need to maintain right now.
My life is full of ghosts. Some of them interact in a seemingly indirect way and some of them are openly aggressive. However, they all want me to fail. Sue is the cunning one. She won’t confront me openly and but she gets into my head. Constantly forming and revising her long term strategy to confound my efforts at every turn. Devious, diabolical Sue. Too good for straight up chasing, the constant thorn in my side.
I die by Inky’s nasty hands often too. He’s got those wild eyes. Crazy bastard. You never know what Inky’s gonna do. That mental instability makes him unpredictable and dangerous. Inky’s always sinking those grimy green teeth into my supple yellow flesh.
The angry red ghost, Blinky is an idiot. In his mindless rage he is utterly predictable and easy to confuse. My elegant dancing is no match for simple Blinky.
Pinky’s a determined chaser too, but likewise can’t handle my smooth moves. She’s the delicate lady of the bunch, not a thug like Blinky or Inky. She will chase but doesn’t have the stomach for the kill, she just wants to get ahead of you and get in your way. It’s always Sue though, cerebral Sue. Always in my next section, always one step ahead, blocking that next energizer while Blinky and Pinky pressure from behind.
I’m deleting Ms. Pacman right now. What a mistake installing that was this morning. I had a nap this evening and all I dreamed about was grids, ghosts and kinky pacman sex. Nothing got done. I’ll chalk today up to post thesis decompression and start work early, early tomorrow. And I will delete my pixelated temptress after a few more games.
The Ancient Undergrad 
I used to have a crush on Q-bert
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“i bent my wookie”
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she swallows
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hehehe now THAT is hilarious. and prolific. so so good. thanks. heheh.
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the trib usually has very straightforward horoscopes, but today’s for Libra was as follows:
Libra (Sept. 23-Oct. 22). Today is an 8. Looking into the face of the tiger, you smile and the tiger purrs.
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i mention this because you seem more like a tiger than a lion to me and so I’m suggesting you take a good look in the mirror and than ease up on yourself a little bit. without the pressure, things’ll get done more quickly/smoothly
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I want to see the bunny pic of you! You’re tempting me to play Ms. Pacman… I always liked Clyde. He struck me as one of those dirty ghosts into spanking.
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ok… weird ghost sex….lol… o wow. You and kalligena seem to have a few things in common. O MY!!! I want to see the pic too BTW.
Anyways… your writing is well in tact. I never thought I would enjoy a post about the ghosts of ms. pac quite like that!!
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Sue’s a bitch. But so fuuuun…
Food, sleep, sex, video games and movies are what life is made of. Indulge yourself.
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Pacmans haunt us. The symbol for voice commands on my cell phone looks like a Pacman… whyyyyyy do they haunt us!?
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for me it’s usually the reverse: movie, sex, sleep, food minus the video games
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I remember when the Ms. Pacman machine was wheeled into my neighborhood skating rink. We lined up to play it. It was a really BIG deal when it came out, because most of the kids had figured out all the tricks to Pacman. It went in right next to the “Pinball Wizard” pinball machine …or was that the Xenon pinball machine…wait, the Xenon pinball machine was at the bowling alley…and “Pinball Wizard” was at the skating rink. Either way, the smell of greasy pizza and sweaty feet is coming back to me thanks to this walk down memory lane brought to me by your Ms. Pacman post.
I will pass along the toenail DNA info to my whacko friend. She would probably go for the voodoo thing too. Resurrecting Elvis sounds like a fund thing to do on Easter…or is that a little too sacreligious? Point is moot, however, since we did not go to Graceland. NOR did I get my bar-b-cue, but I DID purchase icon postcards from Brother Juniper’s after a very hearty breakfast. The trip was a total success. NOW, suspend your blogging activities and yourself back to whatever work you need to be doing.
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