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For some reason I do most of my thinking late at night. I don't know why, maybe my mind is freer in the hours before I go to sleep than any other time of the day. Anyways, I have a million ideas floating around in my head but I can't seem to grab any of them to put down in this blog. Sort of like that scene in Harry Potter when he's trying to get that key and uses his Quidditch skills to get it. I'm Harry Potter, except I can't get that f'n key. I don't know if that even made sense but I should get BLOG points for inserting a Harry Potter reference into this post.
So, this post basically is nothing. I just felt like writing. Plain and simple. We'll try this experiment and see where this post goes to. I could probably finish it in two lines and get the hell to sleep, or keep writing and have a 17 page post. 17 PAGES!
So I worked tonight. Let me tell you, a lot of strange mofo's go to my theater. There's this one guy who doesn't speak a lick of English and is a pretty ugly guy. He is pretty old and works for some company, I forget which one, but he's always wearing that company shirt. Anyway, he comes to the movies a lot, sometimes every night I work and it's always the same. He just comes up to me and says in his broken English, "NICE MOVIE, GOOD MOVIE." This means I print up any old ticket to any movie and give it to him and he says, "WHAT NUMBER" meaning what theater and I tell him. He's an innocent old man and really there's nothing wrong about him and he's not too strange but that's the type of people that I get. One day at work a couple of co-workers were swapping stories and said we should write a book about our Loew's Memories. Sound cool right? Will it ever happen? Probably as soon as I hit the lottery.
Well, this abomination of a post has gone on long enough. I will be going to bed now and waking up to go to class then to the apartment for a couple of hours before heading to work for 6 hours. Then I will probably come home and read people's away messages that detail for me every thing they will do that day. I hate away messages.
