04.04.01 - 9:37 p.m.

Oh god, arrghh, Brian, you are the last person I want to be talking to right now. I just want to curl up in bed with my geeky design books and watch My So-called Life. But no, I can�t even be that rude to you. Years of conditioning myself to go along with your SHIT have made that impossible.

Reason #3000 I�m turning into Rob from High Fidelity: I am a music snob. I have a Ben Folds Five icon for my IM. Brian complimented me on it, and was like, "oh, I should look for a Dave one." And I wanted to be like, you fool, you didn�t even care about Dave until I dragged you to his show. And now you think you�re Mr. Hardcore, I�ve seen so many more shows than you. And that�s just not right! I�ve only seen one R.E.M. show (granted, they don�t tour every summer like Dave does) and it�s just wrong to judge that way. But Brian really sucks, he does.

And now, quotes�.

"My name is Chuck Harris. I'm not a rock star. I don't speak with a fancy French accent. I don't own a speedboat. I'm just a nice, simple guy from Stuckeyville who imports and distributes bauxite for a living...My point is this: It's Valentine's Day and I, Chuck Harris, don't have a Valentine. So if there's a gal out there who would like to spend some time with a regular guy like me--a guy who may never be president, or a lion tamer, or a king--step on up to this shoe counter. Step on up here and take a chance that maybe, just maybe, Chuck Harris is worth the roll of the dice. 'Cause you know what? There ain't nothing wrong with Chuck Harris just the way he is. Nothin' at all."

"Believe me, Mrs. G., you don�t need to tell Warren Cheswick how to make a woman sing."

"i'm sorry i forgot you, coffee. maybe it's because sometimes you taste like shit." (my sister)