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DIARY LAND

DATE/TIME
Friday, Oct. 18, 2002 - 1:02 A.M.

TITLE
You know I think way to deeply about the shit that goes on television.

ENTRY

Oh hell I hate to admit I actually watch this show, but man. What the hell is up with Friends? Shark porn? Signs that they are running out shit to write about and that six people are collecting roughly a million dollars each an episode because we hate letting go of things we love. Even if it�s high time we just let it go.

Speaking of television, I happened to be flipping through the channels and caught MTV Cribs featuring the Playboy Mansion. A remarkably huge home with one hell of a pool area, but that�s not why I�m mentioning it here.

As many might know already, Hugh Hefner in all his ancient glory has amassed himself seven Playboy bunny girlfriends. At first reaction it seems like the high life. Who the hell needs to cheat when you got seven freakin girlfriends!

Though this thought only lasts for a few seconds then I start feeling sorry for the man.

Yes, I know how insane that sounds. Broke ass me with no life and not knowing where my future is going. My most valuable asset I own is a computer who I have named for purposes of not having to say �new computer� over and over again on this diary.

Me feeling sorry for a multi-millionaire with a freakin mansion for a home that so many people would give there left foot to go to. A man with one of the most ground breaking and popular magazines of all times. A man who might be old as hell is still in great physical shape and lays claim to seven models as girlfriends.

That is just crazy talk.

But with all these things he has I have to wonder if he ever thinks about if he is really loved or not. Let�s face it if he didn�t have that magazine and all that money do you really think those seven women would have anything to do with him let alone be his girlfriend.

Facts are no they wouldn�t at all. They are relationships of convenience; he gets to be one of the only men in America to say �which of the seven girlfriends you are talking about?� Seven women that thousand of men and some women drool over on a daily basis. These women not only get the comfort of all that money, an unbelievable home, all there material wishes come true, but the status of being the girlfriend with one of the most influential men in the 20th Century.

Where is the love in all this? Does this man have any relationships left that don�t revolve around his money or who he is? Is anyone there for him because they love him not what he can give to them?

If that was me, I would find the whole situation somewhat disturbing. To have everything you could ever want in life, but the one thing that makes all of us keep going day after day in our lives. To find someone you truly love and who can return that love to you unconditionally.

Psychologically speaking, judging by what I�ve seen, I think deep down inside he realizes this, but doesn�t want to face the facts. The fact that he is constantly surrounded by super models and stars of all media forms. The fact his house is always party central goes to show you that he is probably afraid to sit back for to long alone. That maybe if he is given too much time to think about it without to many distractions that he might not like what he sees. So he keeps the party going. Thus making everyone happy which leads to him feeling loved by so many people. Fooling himself into believing the love is genuine.

Then again, I could be delving way too deeply into all this.


So I�m finally done working on BDC�s new template for his diary.

Truthfully I can�t take the credit for that template. The real credit should go to the always lovely and most charming bisa-pet for her graphics work. I just did the entire HTML coding for the page.

Which, truth be told, she could have done just as well or even better then me, but I think she was being sensitive to my fragile male ego and letting me do it.

Thank you for the help bisa-pet for all your help. Expect roses and sexually explicit shaped chocolates in the mail any day now.


Well according to the DS4 polls, I�m the least popular survivor. Judging by the last time I went and looked.

I can�t say that I�m surprised by this, really. I mean the truly amazing part is that I got in the contest and that I wasn�t the first person voted out. Though I won�t be surprised if come Sunday night I find I�m the second one voted off. Probably doesn�t help I don�t do much on the contestant�s blog because I keep finding myself so busy with working on my page, reading all there diary�s plus all my favorites, and working on all the little problems on my computer while dealing with a modem problem I can�t seem to solve.

I think the only real thing that would bother me about being booted out of Diary Survivor is that my main goal for joining would come to an end. I liked the idea of the �immunity challenges�, being tested to see if I can take a random topic and write up and entry within the parameters of the topic. The challenge of seeing if I could do it on a weekly basis seemed intriguing and fun while being a good learning process for which to grow as a writer.

But the thing is even that won�t be so bad because I�ve been exposed to so many new, and very good diaries because of this contest. So many amazing people that I can connect with in one way or another that I�ve come to really enjoy reading every time I see them in red on my buddy list.

Christ I sound like I'm kissing everyone's ass with this shit. That or I�m just accepting in my head that soon this will all be over and the challenge won�t be there anymore. Along with probably a bunch of new readers once I�m no longer �required DS4 reading�.

Either way for everyone who doesn�t like my diary, but has to read it to keep up with all the Diary Survivor 4 activities. Which I can understand since I�ve come to accept my writing is sort of an acquired taste. Sort of like Burger King Fries, tastes good those first couple bites, but leaves a greasy, nasty after taste in your mouth for the rest of the day.

Ok, maybe I�m not like Burger King Fries. Maybe I need more work with my metaphors sometimes.

Anyways don�t fret, I�ll soon be gone from the contest and you can stop reading me.

Well enough of that. I�m off to go fondle my balls while contemplating something else shockingly disturbing to write on this diary.




Michael Moore for 2004





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