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apocolypse bell

9-12-'o1: 11:47pm

i smelled the donuts cooking down the street, the scent rode in on the air from the fan in my window. the first sleepless night i've had in ages, sitting up and rehashing the design for this site over and over because i didn't have to think about anything else that way. i'm not too big and bad to admit that this whole terrorist attack thing has me a bit frightened.

nonetheless, i left the house for my lesson, and afterward went to taco bell with my dad. after we ordered, someone came over the intercom and said something about how we are all being monitored for our saftey.

"you'd think we were at pfp or something," my dad remarked dryly. pfp, by the way, stands for "plutonium finishing plant", a part of the hanford reservation which lies a few stone's throws away from here.

as we got our food and sat down, this very very loud man came in and made an order. ordered four steak tacos, a drink, and an order of mexi-nuggets. or are they mexi-fries? not even remotely mexican i don't think, whatever they are. anyaway, while he was waiting, he pulled out a piece of paper and proceeded to read and explain in depth nostradamus' prediction and it's connection to the terrorist attacks yesterday. very very loudly.

"wow, and he wrote that in like 1645 or something?" one of the employees asked him, sounding stunned and amazed.

"yup." he stepped back, nodded smugly. i was thinking that if this guy came anywhere near me, i was going to pop him a good one right in his smarmy little face.

my dad, who also heard the conversation going on at the counter, leaned over and whispered: "yep...he wrote it in 1645...and posted it on the internet yesterday."

i laughed and laughed even though i hate to admit it.

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