September 2, 1997, Tuesday

We figured if worst came to worse we could evict those fuckers and handle the rent by ourselves.

I


n the morning I paid the rent. Deya owes me $60. I have no idea why she wrote me a check for only $140; she knows what her rent is. As for Monster Boy, I think he can cough up more than $50 for rent. When he rented a storage building, it came to $70/month, and he didn't get to live there. Matthew Hart and I discussed this subject this morning and we were both pretty upset with both Deya and Monster Boy. We figured if worst came to worse we could evict those fuckers and handle the rent by ourselves.

In the afternoon, I thoroughly investigated axle noise on the Dodge Dart. This involved jacking up the entire rear of the car so both wheels could spin freely. I determined that the right rear axle indeed has a slight whip in it, making the wheel go up and down about a 20th of an inch as it rotates. This accounts for a little groan that happens at half the speed of the wheel's rotation. I have no idea whether this situation is serious, but it troubles me. If any of you has ever dealt with a slightly bent axle before, I would encourage you to send me email. As much as I hate car trouble, it does have the good effect of forcing upon me a crash course in the mechanics of a particular component. And knowledge is power. As Nietzche once said...

The machine will convert a variety of different human types into Fratboys with the flick of a switch.

I loaded up the Dart with all kinds of components for a "Frat Boy Machine" I intend to build at the Downtown Artspace. The Frat Boy Machine is to be demonstrated at a multimedia extravaganza this Friday. The machine will convert a variety of different human types into Fratboys with the flick of a switch. It's going to be a complicated device to build, since the conversion is not always easy or straightforward. I anticipate having to string together an elaborate network of high-powered computers to coordinate the chemistry and high-energy physics that conversion will entail. Among the components so far are: a PS/Model 80 computer, a Sun workstation motherboard with 4 Megs of RAM, two 8 bit ISA monochrome adapters, a VGA monitor, a pressure gauge and hose, three closet doors, and an essentially empty quarter keg of Budweiser.

The plans to build a Frat Boy Machine date back to about a year ago, when I discussed the idea with Jessika.

To transport the big closet doors, I tied them to the roof of the Dart with bicycle inner tubes.

After dropping all the stuff off at the Artspace, I rode with Jenfariello up to Lowes on 29 North to pick up some hardware, electrical stuff mostly: switches, wires, and coloured light bulbs. Like I say, this Frat Boy Machine is going to be a complex device.

*******

If I were to smell it in a moment of passion, I'm sure the result would be a rapid loss of carnal desire.

I


  had another thought on the lovely yet smushed Princess Diana today. All this talk about her bringing so much useful attention to worthy charitable goals seems to miss an important point: of what value are the opinions of people who would be swayed by the statements of an intellectually unremarkable, cream puff fashion-horse princess?

There's a kind of cheap perfume that occasionally pervades the halls of Comet. It's worn by the girlfriend of the custodian; she often visits him while he toils in the morning. The perfume is so horribly repulsive that I find myself holding my breath as I walk through clouds of it, but even so it still can burn my eyes. How would I describe it? It has a nauseating chemical pungency, with a kind of demented Mandarin Orange / English Walnut flavour. My guess is that it was specifically designed to cover up pussy odour. If I were to smell it in a moment of passion, I'm sure the result would be a rapid loss of carnal desire.

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