January 1 2006 2 pm

Blake just left. We ate some cheese and crackers and watched Endless Waltz finally. He got the VCR to work through sheer tenacity by playing the tape over and over. Apparently working the heads like that cleaned the dust from them and by the time Heero was firing on the Brussels Presidential residence the picture was clear as ever. After that we turned on a bad ninja film and made fun of it til Blake had to leave. I was sorry I couldn't see him to the airport but I had to work so we said later and he walked off to the car with his bags and such.

Above you'll see the area right infront of the TV in Blake's room. The KFC box is actually the same box of chicken we bought on that fateful night full of herbs, spices, and sexual harassment.

Infront of the couch a pile had formed containing liquer, clothes, rice crispies, possibly a Saber-spoon

January 1, 3 PM to 6 30 pm

I walked downstairs to discover that Lorie was terribly drunk, she told me to get the hell out of her house and it took a great deal of strength to keep to my policy of holding drunkards harmles for their beer addled insults as I was in a black mood from my comradde's departure. Never the less I made some politely patronizing remarks. There were some people riding some kind of noisy apperatus around the house, atvs or four wheelers or whatever, and these only served to annoy me more as their engines made a terrible din.

As I walked out the door to make my trek to work the banner had already started to droop, the first corner of it and the "wel" in welcome falling down. I agree with the banner though.

I walked off silently, thinking to myself as I was swallowed up in the purity of the road. I walked by a great oak atop a hill where it is my custom to stop under the oak near the sign of a church. I stared up at the skies which were already growing lovely with whispers of the early winter sunset as my shadow drew out infront of me. I looked into the sky at the planes passing which all seemed to be heading West. I wondered which one bore Blake away and I said my goodbyes as the tree obscured the one I'd been watching and I continued on into the east.

I made it to work barely on time because a man who had just moved from Stanley was kind enough to give me a ride into town. Work was has been mercifully slow today despite perilously high temperatures for January thanks to that global warming that the government swears is a fantasy. But to me it seemed cold and barren like a more traditional winters day. All the good will in the world seemed to have left with Blake.

January 2 2006, 11 50 am

Well, I've done a bit of cleaning up. Got all the left over supplies in order. Lot of alcohol left. Blake's off in Texas now and tomorrow I finish my obligations to him by burying the Gundam and the jujubes. My room is a disaster area now, with stuff strewn everywhere and two loads of laundry marinating in the corner. It's just proof that I was able to forsake such nonsense as laundry and cleaning for a while and devote my time to the best friend a guy could ever have.

My computer desk after OES contained literally all that and a bag of chips.

This is my clothes pile. It's perfectly normal, but the pizza, soda, and other stuff aren't usually ontop of it.

January 9 2006 6 pm

I made a list of directions today, followed them, and then buried the treasure of jujubes and stuff there. The ground was really stony but I got it eventually and the directions should be interesting to try to follow since they're in riddles and stuff. So with that Operation Eagle Strike is brought to an end.

What did I learn? Well, I've discovered that some people just can't be changed. I think some of us are born who we are, like Blake, and others just become who we are. Blake didnt change a bit in the time he spent in the army, and I'm glad for that. I don't know how different I am either. I think I've settled down a bit, but that's only because I lack a proper stage.

I also learned that me and Blake do fucked up shit when we're drunk. For instance, when I got the photographs developed there were the usual ones of the chaos, but then there were some that were fantastically insane.

So, for some reason Blake and me wrote "Wing Zero" in permanent marker on top of the gaming comp, and then wrote "skillet" in spray cheese (at the top of the picture) and underlined it. Why this was done I do not know. Perhaps as part of an arcaine eighties-style ritual, which would explain the presence of the Buckaroo Banzai main theme looped in Windows Media.

Man what the fuck was I on when I stabbed an apple with the dagger Lisa gave me for Christmas and then started eating it? Whatever it was it allowed me to be looking in different directions with either eye. I blame the Curacao.

I set out to throw a party that would rival Fouquet's fetes at Vaux-le-Vicomte. Clearly I failed. But the spirit was there. The fireworks and music may not have all gone perfectly, and the guests may not have all attended, but I welcomed a good friend home and made his visit memorable. I hope I've done a good thing, as ever.

What day is it? * Who are you? * Where am I? 
Can anybody hear me?