You're just like a pill.
Instead of makin' me better,
You're makin' me ill.

Pink, "Just Like A Pill"
---
Day Nine
Eat a gourmet dinner at a restaurant.

The previous untitled audioblog entry was taken from a table at a trendy new restaurant in Westlake Village called "P6". Very trendy, very modern, very posh, very much the type of place that I think once upon a time I would have enjoyed very much. It's weird that you can take away the desire without taking away the appreciation. I no longer feel compelled or interested in going to a place like P6, or rather I have just as much compulsion to go there as I do to go to Pizza Hut's all you can eat lunch buffet for $4.49. The crabcakes were amazing, and the paella was forgivable, but I'm not sure if everyone there was there for the food.

Eight coworkers and I went out to Pizza Hut for their all you can eat lunch buffet for $4.49. The last time I was at this Pizza Hut was on some Tuesday in September three years ago. I don't think you trust in my self-righteous suicide. I had spent that morning dropping off an ex-girlfriend at her house in the fucking 909 and got to work a little late. I pulled up ESPN.com and, honestly, that's the site where I first heard the news. I listen to CDs in my car, so I was a little isolated current-events-wise that morning.

I cry when angels deserve to die.

I had gone to this Pizza Hut because it was a lunch place that actually had TVs. The quality of the pizzas themselves were passable, but I've come to the realization that one of the angriest moments of my life happened three years ago. Thirty six months. Thirty six. I remember playing 2Pac's "Hit 'Em Up" on the ride home, which ranks very highly on Bill Simmons' vengeance scale, as well as mine.

Grab your glocks when you see 2Pac
Call the cops when you see 2Pac
Who shot me, but your punks didn't finish
Now you 'bout to feel the wrath of a menace.

Replace "2Pac" with "the U.S." and you see my mindset that day.