Buy low, sell high. Winner!

I restrained myself from getting some shots of a rainbow today, not because it was gay, but because the lighting was crappy. So instead, you get a screenshot from the software that I've been using to play stockbroker. The old man and I have set up a pretend portfolio of shares according to the rules of them books, and are going to track their progress over the next six months or so to get our hand in. I've been reading all about selling short, and that sounds like my kinda game. You sell shares you don't have when the price is high and you're damn sure it's gonna bomb soon, and then buy 'em after they do so, make a truckload of moola, and it's bucket-sized Pina Coladas with minature umbrella garnishes and footlong straws from there on in. Stockbrokers are a bunch of pussies, and I'm gonna fight the next one I meet, out of principle.

I was gently roused from sleep at an ungodly hour this morning by the wondrous sound of a fax machine undergoing an apoplectic fit, as my US supervisor faxed me 50 out of 75 pages of my paper back, with handwritten corrections and editorial comments. At least, that's what went in on his end. I'm worried that I'll get hauled off to Guantanamo Bay for receiving indecipherable coded messages. I got through all his suggestions today though, it mostly consisted of substituting words for their synonyms and adding in an extra three to four thousand commas. Also, anywhere I had "clearly, it can be seen..." had the "clearly" bit removed, which is telling. Telling me to insert joke!

Tomorrow is 8 days to go until this adjective episode is over. I'll fill that bit in later.

Steve has something to say, which he said to me, and I got quite a bit, well, a bit out of, but there's plenty left to share.

Here'th thee Heareth thee Heereth Theee. When the
underwater disco callers speak the abundance will be
necessary. Oh dwellers of the ares be warned of the
great and impending fist that may befall us all.
Mercy, Love, and pnuematic cheese is offered to all
who pray this way;
"Harken hear the red cross call my name
Illuminate my loins
Stir my wisdom over a low flame
Imbibe me with strenth to
Cross the abyss and uncross my legs
Caress the foundation of my ass
And show me the beauty of wall ornaments"
It is this way that you may reach salvation.

Apparently Steve did a performance of "Junkie Jesus" the other night, which he says went down well. He acts like a whacked out junkie, and says things from the Bible in an occer nasally Aussie accent, like, "uh... the meek will, like, ah, inherit the stuff and that, so couldcha spare us two bucks for the tram, n that?" It's piss funny. This isn't really my news, I'm grasping here. I'm gonna start on Alby Mangels again, so night all. Don't think gay thoughts, as B-Roq would wisely advise. Sometimes he appears to me in an ethereal form like Obi-Wan and offers me such sage-like guidance in dark hours such as this.