Writing is hard. I know, shocking revelation, but here it is, staring me in the face.

I think Iíve cracked a little nugget of ìKid Lucifer.î Could this be something? Who knows. Itís funny, the stories that call out to you to be written. Sometimes itís great and meaningful literature. Other times itís a dark magical comedy about a half-demon college freshman and his pet demon weasel (look left. Yes, Iím putting that thing to good use) named Bacon.

Because everyone loves Bacon.

Who can tell me where this line comes from: The world is going to end, or people are discussing the end of the world, and someone says something along the lines of ìThe world canít end, thatís where I keep all my stuff.î Anyone? Two people have told me they have heard that before, so Iím clearly subconsciously plagiarizing, and that pisses me off. Now, I just want to know where it came from.

I was watching tonightís episode of ìRescue Me,î and at the end I almost cried like a little baby. Not because of anything that happened, but because next week is the season finale. I knew, intellectually, that it had to take some kind of break at some point, but this just makes me sad. What ever happened to 22 episodes a season? What a nation of slackers weíve become.

Dennis Lehane, author of ìMystic River,î wrote the teleplay for the most recent episode of ìThe Wire,î the HBO cop drama. This season looks to be the first one that will actually hold my interest, which is good. Naturally, this last episode was the best one Iíve seen. Because Iím a sucker for Lehane.

Finished reading ìThe Dark Tower.î Holy crap. I say again: Holy Crap. As I got to the last third of the book I was reading it in massive three-hour stretches, not able to put it down at all because I knew that the end, the end of this seven book, almost 40 year long odyssey was coming to an end. Funnily enough, as I got to the last fifty pages or so, the Vice Presidential debate came on, and I wanted to watch it, but I also wanted to finish the damn book, so I started doing both and it was a little surreal.

Say what you will about Chaney, I say we have to give him massive respect for not picking up a monocle, top hat and umbrella and start going ìWaughh, waughh, waughh.î

See? Creepy.

Iím not going to go more into the whole debate thing. I try to put myself in the mind of an undecided voter, and then I realize that I can only do that if I whap myself in the forehead with a hammer six or seven times, because only then would I be brain damaged enough to not have an opinion about who to vote for. Or even still I find myself trying to explain what ìthe Global Testî means to a complete idiot, or worse, Republicans. Hereís a fucking hint: when Germany invaded Poland, they didnít pass the Global Test.

Other than that, things are going swimmingly, but without the water.

ìI got a letter from my ex-girlfriend this morning three months too late explaining why she dumped me. Itís full of ìyouíll always be specialî and ìIíll always love youî platitudes designed to make me feel better while simultaneously appeasing her deep-seeded sense of guilt for running off with a slimy little city boy called Duane and destroying my faith in everything which is good an pure.î
- Tim, from ìSpacedî (brilliant UK dork comedy on Trio)

Realizing sometimes TV says it best, I remainÖ

P.S.

BACON!