Subject : faulty
Posted Date: : Dec 28, 2006 8:23 AM
alright... it has recently occured to me that the answer to "what gives?" could be and probably is me. j.s. pointed out to me something that i completely overlooked and that's the possibility that the responses i think i get that are negative are actually simply nuetral. for some reason i always expect people to feel either positively or negatively toward something. its a worldview my dad has... i guess ive adopted some of it. funny how things seep into your brain like that.
i thought it was just shades and that there really is no real nuetral. at least with myself i know that i really dont have a nuetral. at least i like to think that i dont. i dont feel nuetral toward anything or anyone, i either feel good about them or it or i feel bad about them or it. there are mixes but there is never a perfect mix that balances out to nothing. i find the thought appalling somehow that someone could feel nothing toward a person... maybe an it would be okay, but a person?!?! gross.
so i may very well have been misqueing myself all along. it could be that people that i feel should feel (hahaha "feel should feel". words are awesome, anyway) people that i feel should feel at least something positive towards me dont feel anything at all. i dont bother them or make them angry or upbraid them so they're actually inclined to feel nothing; in part because im not a threat to them, but also in part because they just dont consider me - at all. i simply fall into the category of a nonfactor. its not depressing. i always said you can't be friends with everyone. im also the one who seems to have forgotten that.
the experiment is cancelled.
and yes... go fuck yourselves.
Clean with alcohol only. Do not attempt to replace blown fuses. Do not remove access panels. Return to certified mechanic for regular maintenance. Made in the USA.
12/28/06
12/27/06
facebook part 2 12/27/06
Subject : facebook part 2
Posted Date: : Dec 27, 2006 12:50 PM
so... i thought about something yesterday. it was the idea that ppl seem to remain distant from me despite the fact that i go to school with them, talk to them repeatedly and in a friendly manner, and express interest in what they have to say. sometimes i even like hanging out with them... so what gives?
i think what is giving is that im not on facebook and am thus the "creepy guy" that talks a lot. maybe i just dont talk about myself enough. maybe if i introduced myself with a list of easy to remember stats and contact information, a very becoming photo, a favorite quote, and something witty someone else has said about me i would be more approachable. maybe everyone should just carry around a trading card to hand out. pretty lame. just because im not on facebook doesnt mean i hate ppl. i do hate a lot of people but that's not the point.
the point is: i will be performing an experiment next semester to see if i make more new friends with a facebook account than i did without one. the other thing i'd have to keep in mind though are the reasons people may want to associate with me. im not going to put anything on there except contact info and the other bare essentials and i will only go on there to check info when i need to call someone or when my email account tells me to. so there. let the test begin.
also: dont get me wrong... im not coming full circle. i still hate facebook. but i have to know. my thirst for an answer has overcome my allergic reactions to water.
Posted Date: : Dec 27, 2006 12:50 PM
so... i thought about something yesterday. it was the idea that ppl seem to remain distant from me despite the fact that i go to school with them, talk to them repeatedly and in a friendly manner, and express interest in what they have to say. sometimes i even like hanging out with them... so what gives?
i think what is giving is that im not on facebook and am thus the "creepy guy" that talks a lot. maybe i just dont talk about myself enough. maybe if i introduced myself with a list of easy to remember stats and contact information, a very becoming photo, a favorite quote, and something witty someone else has said about me i would be more approachable. maybe everyone should just carry around a trading card to hand out. pretty lame. just because im not on facebook doesnt mean i hate ppl. i do hate a lot of people but that's not the point.
the point is: i will be performing an experiment next semester to see if i make more new friends with a facebook account than i did without one. the other thing i'd have to keep in mind though are the reasons people may want to associate with me. im not going to put anything on there except contact info and the other bare essentials and i will only go on there to check info when i need to call someone or when my email account tells me to. so there. let the test begin.
also: dont get me wrong... im not coming full circle. i still hate facebook. but i have to know. my thirst for an answer has overcome my allergic reactions to water.
12/26/06
home for the hole days 12/26/06
Subject : home for the hole days
Posted Date: : Dec 26, 2006 10:18 AM
thats what they are really. they are days that represent holes; holes in your otherwise "busy" life, holes in your pay checks, holes in your souring days, holes in your routine, just lots and lots of holes. its not all bad.
sometimes its nice to crawl into a hole for a while and watch the world whirl by. im glad that this has been the least superficial christmas ive had the pleasure of living through. we didnt pretend to be super rich. we didnt pretend to have big dreams for big gifts. we didnt make dumb ass christmas lists. and we didnt have to sit through a sermon delivered by my overly pious and ultra conservative father. we just had some time to sit in a hole just big enough for the six of us in my family (mommy daddy sister brother me and sister) and enjoy the close company. its been good.
i like to think im gonna write another book of poetry someday. i want to call it "from the bottom of my well" because i dont have enough perspective to pretend i write for the "everyman." my life as it stands right now is sitting at the bottom of a 60 foot well. every now and then i manage to pull some bricks out and stack them up under me; i get a little closer to daylight, but the trick has been keeping the whole thing from collapsing. the funny thing is that until i get out the clouds over head, the shaft of sunlight, could be anything from a hurricane to a sunrise and im too closed up to know the difference.
im planning on going to new york for new years, but it wont happen. i can feel it already. im just going to go home to pittsburgh. im feelin home sick anyway. its an odd place to feel homesick for three different locations at the same time. hopefully my eventual graduation from college will fix that.
speaking of growing up. i thought i would do so while i was at home. i thought i would be able to say "yeah pop i smoke now and then" or "yes i drink in the afternoon, sometimes a beer goes well with lunch (or breakfast depending on what day it is)," but i didnt. there are a couple of things i fear in this world and one of them is my father's disgust. that's why i dont show him writing. that's why i dont talk about my real life when he's around or even in ear shot. that's why i still have to hide who i am from him. maybe when i can fully support my own god damn weight ill finally be able to tell him that this is what im made of. maybe not.
four more days and it wont matter again because ill be on the greyhound with a fresh pack and limitless potential. or at least potential that can rise to the threshold of possessing a bachelor's degree, cuz i still dont have one yet. << its thoughts like that... they make me angry that everyone will be getting on with their lives come may. angry... but also... heart broken.
Posted Date: : Dec 26, 2006 10:18 AM
thats what they are really. they are days that represent holes; holes in your otherwise "busy" life, holes in your pay checks, holes in your souring days, holes in your routine, just lots and lots of holes. its not all bad.
sometimes its nice to crawl into a hole for a while and watch the world whirl by. im glad that this has been the least superficial christmas ive had the pleasure of living through. we didnt pretend to be super rich. we didnt pretend to have big dreams for big gifts. we didnt make dumb ass christmas lists. and we didnt have to sit through a sermon delivered by my overly pious and ultra conservative father. we just had some time to sit in a hole just big enough for the six of us in my family (mommy daddy sister brother me and sister) and enjoy the close company. its been good.
i like to think im gonna write another book of poetry someday. i want to call it "from the bottom of my well" because i dont have enough perspective to pretend i write for the "everyman." my life as it stands right now is sitting at the bottom of a 60 foot well. every now and then i manage to pull some bricks out and stack them up under me; i get a little closer to daylight, but the trick has been keeping the whole thing from collapsing. the funny thing is that until i get out the clouds over head, the shaft of sunlight, could be anything from a hurricane to a sunrise and im too closed up to know the difference.
im planning on going to new york for new years, but it wont happen. i can feel it already. im just going to go home to pittsburgh. im feelin home sick anyway. its an odd place to feel homesick for three different locations at the same time. hopefully my eventual graduation from college will fix that.
speaking of growing up. i thought i would do so while i was at home. i thought i would be able to say "yeah pop i smoke now and then" or "yes i drink in the afternoon, sometimes a beer goes well with lunch (or breakfast depending on what day it is)," but i didnt. there are a couple of things i fear in this world and one of them is my father's disgust. that's why i dont show him writing. that's why i dont talk about my real life when he's around or even in ear shot. that's why i still have to hide who i am from him. maybe when i can fully support my own god damn weight ill finally be able to tell him that this is what im made of. maybe not.
four more days and it wont matter again because ill be on the greyhound with a fresh pack and limitless potential. or at least potential that can rise to the threshold of possessing a bachelor's degree, cuz i still dont have one yet. << its thoughts like that... they make me angry that everyone will be getting on with their lives come may. angry... but also... heart broken.
12/21/06
a poem 12/21/06
Subject : a poem
Posted Date: : Dec 21, 2006 4:22 AM
(so i insist that i have some chops when it comes to poetry so im going to compose a poem as my blog entry. ignore the double spacing. it means nothing, i just couldnt find out how to turn it off when i hit the enter key. it kind of fucks up the form, but try to bear with it. my style of choice has been deemed prose by some older folks [i actually chewed out a woman 30 years my senior with as many of those years spent writing, but she had the nerve to disqualify one of my entries to her contest as "not poetry at all"] but it is poetry. its my poetry.)
"Food Groups"
he turned his head. to see if he was still bleeding
in the mirror. "nothing to worry about"
i told my hands while they zipped me up. the urinal chuckled,
full of fluid and more satisfied than i can remember being.
i washed my hands to get myself off
but the color stuck. i shot my eyes over my shoulder
to see if i could get a last look at his insides.
i only saw porcelain. later we consumated
our first real fight with rounds of drinks.
the brown leather at his elbow chafed my bare skin
where our arms met on the bar. i didnt mind
his jacket as much as his friendship, but it looked good
on him. i kept my mouth mostly shut
to ease my anger into the weight of the wide bar stool.
my arms refused to move when he suggested
we take it outside. i used his empty coaster
to write down the bartender's number.
she said she was half irish too after smoking his
unfinished cigarette. the amber pool in my
fragile glass didn't go down easy when i finally swallowed.
thats it. thats what ive written. as i typed i could feel chips of rust flying off my knuckles, but i still think its kind of good poem. i should write more. i felt like the seasoned rider who, after going on a vacation to the bahamas, finds themself tangled in their familiar harness when they got home and tried to mount up. its embarassing. but i like it. call it internalized favoritism for myself. or call it shit.
Posted Date: : Dec 21, 2006 4:22 AM
(so i insist that i have some chops when it comes to poetry so im going to compose a poem as my blog entry. ignore the double spacing. it means nothing, i just couldnt find out how to turn it off when i hit the enter key. it kind of fucks up the form, but try to bear with it. my style of choice has been deemed prose by some older folks [i actually chewed out a woman 30 years my senior with as many of those years spent writing, but she had the nerve to disqualify one of my entries to her contest as "not poetry at all"] but it is poetry. its my poetry.)
"Food Groups"
he turned his head. to see if he was still bleeding
in the mirror. "nothing to worry about"
i told my hands while they zipped me up. the urinal chuckled,
full of fluid and more satisfied than i can remember being.
i washed my hands to get myself off
but the color stuck. i shot my eyes over my shoulder
to see if i could get a last look at his insides.
i only saw porcelain. later we consumated
our first real fight with rounds of drinks.
the brown leather at his elbow chafed my bare skin
where our arms met on the bar. i didnt mind
his jacket as much as his friendship, but it looked good
on him. i kept my mouth mostly shut
to ease my anger into the weight of the wide bar stool.
my arms refused to move when he suggested
we take it outside. i used his empty coaster
to write down the bartender's number.
she said she was half irish too after smoking his
unfinished cigarette. the amber pool in my
fragile glass didn't go down easy when i finally swallowed.
thats it. thats what ive written. as i typed i could feel chips of rust flying off my knuckles, but i still think its kind of good poem. i should write more. i felt like the seasoned rider who, after going on a vacation to the bahamas, finds themself tangled in their familiar harness when they got home and tried to mount up. its embarassing. but i like it. call it internalized favoritism for myself. or call it shit.
12/16/06
back at work 12/16/06
Subject : back at work
Posted Date: : Dec 16, 2006 3:53 AM
or rather, just tipping them back while at work. mad dog 20/20 and bellvedere. i have to admit one thing im looking forward to this christmas break is buying my parents my favorite drink instead of stealing theirs when theyre not looking. its nice to be 21.
i conceded victory yesterday to my arch pong rival, hagarman. we've been butting heads on who's number 1 for about two years. pretty much since he pledged my frat up until now. I'm a deep water player, i don't get good until near game's end or the series end. i'm much better at making up a five cup (out of ten) deficit in a game 5 than making up the same deficit in a game one. i've been rated in the top five every single year ive played, be it an official rating or unofficial, for my shear tenacity. if you cant beat them by shooting cups, beat them by drinking them into submission (a.k.a. under the table).
i've had my successes, ive had my failures. i am by no means a phenomenal player, but if you come to my table to play you know the chances are really fucking good you're going to lose. betting against me is like betting against the house. i will win. even if i lose you know you're going to have to play me again tomorrow and the odds will be just as long... because i wont let you rest. when i step to the table i step to work. it is my job to be good at pong. its one of the few things im fucking good at. but i conceded victory yesterday. it was upsetting to say the least.
i dont know what it is, but hags has my number. i cant beat him consistently. maybe he's just never as drunk as me when he starts playing... maybe he just holds half a 30 case of beer better than i do... maybe he just shoots better... but i cant beat him. ive tried. ive tried to make it business to beat him. to take him on when he least expects it. to take him on when he most expects. any and all hours of the day im open to play. and he beats me. i havent taken him to the deep water yet... to the best of 5 series. the fucking iron man 7 game series. i havent played him in personals yet (definitely not for the weak livered), but i gave up.
his shot is too good. thats why i can never be better than him. even if i can out drink him. even if i can destroy him physically. i have to live with the fact that he just shoots better than i do. and that pisses me off to no end. i would give a good piece of my soul for a more accurate and dependable shot. my mental game is better than his. my physiological game is better than his. my physical game is on par with his, or better. but my shot. that one last factor. my fucking shot, is not better than his... and that's why i had to do it.
concessions. maybe he'll cede it back to me at some point. hopefully. but, it fuckin broke my heart to do. im still misty about it. shit.
Posted Date: : Dec 16, 2006 3:53 AM
or rather, just tipping them back while at work. mad dog 20/20 and bellvedere. i have to admit one thing im looking forward to this christmas break is buying my parents my favorite drink instead of stealing theirs when theyre not looking. its nice to be 21.
i conceded victory yesterday to my arch pong rival, hagarman. we've been butting heads on who's number 1 for about two years. pretty much since he pledged my frat up until now. I'm a deep water player, i don't get good until near game's end or the series end. i'm much better at making up a five cup (out of ten) deficit in a game 5 than making up the same deficit in a game one. i've been rated in the top five every single year ive played, be it an official rating or unofficial, for my shear tenacity. if you cant beat them by shooting cups, beat them by drinking them into submission (a.k.a. under the table).
i've had my successes, ive had my failures. i am by no means a phenomenal player, but if you come to my table to play you know the chances are really fucking good you're going to lose. betting against me is like betting against the house. i will win. even if i lose you know you're going to have to play me again tomorrow and the odds will be just as long... because i wont let you rest. when i step to the table i step to work. it is my job to be good at pong. its one of the few things im fucking good at. but i conceded victory yesterday. it was upsetting to say the least.
i dont know what it is, but hags has my number. i cant beat him consistently. maybe he's just never as drunk as me when he starts playing... maybe he just holds half a 30 case of beer better than i do... maybe he just shoots better... but i cant beat him. ive tried. ive tried to make it business to beat him. to take him on when he least expects it. to take him on when he most expects. any and all hours of the day im open to play. and he beats me. i havent taken him to the deep water yet... to the best of 5 series. the fucking iron man 7 game series. i havent played him in personals yet (definitely not for the weak livered), but i gave up.
his shot is too good. thats why i can never be better than him. even if i can out drink him. even if i can destroy him physically. i have to live with the fact that he just shoots better than i do. and that pisses me off to no end. i would give a good piece of my soul for a more accurate and dependable shot. my mental game is better than his. my physiological game is better than his. my physical game is on par with his, or better. but my shot. that one last factor. my fucking shot, is not better than his... and that's why i had to do it.
concessions. maybe he'll cede it back to me at some point. hopefully. but, it fuckin broke my heart to do. im still misty about it. shit.
12/15/06
broken thoughts cohere poorly 12/15/06
Subject : broken thoughts cohere poorly
Posted Date: : Dec 15, 2006 8:15 PM
im hedging about what to write.
i had a crazy dream about dry humping t-girl vampires. it was pretty fucking scary. i also looked up what a post op vagina looks like and it is fucking ugly. nothing like the real ones girls have.... which i guess is hard to define since the ppl that have post op vaginas are technically girls. you know what the fuck i mean though so i wont expound any further. weird dream. it happend while a friend of mine was playing the orchestrated rendition of coldplay's second album. it was good music when i was awake but apparently fucked with my brain on a subconcious level. either that or the fact that i missed dinner. ah well.
i was thinking about something earlier. i was thinking about the idea that...
hmm. some big football player dude just saw me watch his lady friend walk into the bathroom. no sexual thoughts crossed my mind, but seeing the schtuppy hardened look on his face when i glanced back kinda made me wish i had so that i could have a smug moment of self satisfaction. as it stands, the only thing i got out of it was the over riding sensation that he's an idiot. i guess ppl get that sometimes from my writing, you know, except directed towards me. well im not going to tell you to go fuck yourselves... its normal.
i think ive reached fuck quota for this entry so ill try and direct my vocabulary into new realms of fucking awesomeness.
so anyway... i was thinking about something today. oh yeah. i saw time magazines pictures of the year and one of the pictures was a party bus going to a prom at the high school that inspired the TV series the OC. It enfuriated me. i ripped the page out of the magazine and flushed it down the toilet that i was sitting on while i read. i moved on to maxim. if im gonna read shit it better be properly labeled.
in other news... ive been making some strides in getting over the anxiety of influence. ive been told my poetry tends to skew toward wallace-stevens-esque-ness with C.D. Wright sprinkles. I've been avoiding reading their work like the black plague, but I did end up reading one of C.D. Wrights books. I might look up wallace sometime too. being a vessel of tradition ain't so bad so long as i dont let it trap me. oh yeah... fuck this train of thought... what i really wanted to say was this:
i pulled out the 400 pages of notes i wrote in highschool when i was trying to put together a galaxy to host the space opera that i was beginning to envision in middle school. i saw star wars way back then and i was like: man this is awesome, but what about... what if... how come... and the questions lead me, in my writing, to decide i would make my own saga. my own fucking epic. so im gonna try and work on it some more over christmas break. its one of the projects that has literally been nagging the back of my head for years. one thing though... if its ever adapted for cinema... cuz im gonna write the screenplay anyway once its done... but if it ever is... or if it makes it to animation... i get to pick the soundtrack
Posted Date: : Dec 15, 2006 8:15 PM
im hedging about what to write.
i had a crazy dream about dry humping t-girl vampires. it was pretty fucking scary. i also looked up what a post op vagina looks like and it is fucking ugly. nothing like the real ones girls have.... which i guess is hard to define since the ppl that have post op vaginas are technically girls. you know what the fuck i mean though so i wont expound any further. weird dream. it happend while a friend of mine was playing the orchestrated rendition of coldplay's second album. it was good music when i was awake but apparently fucked with my brain on a subconcious level. either that or the fact that i missed dinner. ah well.
i was thinking about something earlier. i was thinking about the idea that...
hmm. some big football player dude just saw me watch his lady friend walk into the bathroom. no sexual thoughts crossed my mind, but seeing the schtuppy hardened look on his face when i glanced back kinda made me wish i had so that i could have a smug moment of self satisfaction. as it stands, the only thing i got out of it was the over riding sensation that he's an idiot. i guess ppl get that sometimes from my writing, you know, except directed towards me. well im not going to tell you to go fuck yourselves... its normal.
i think ive reached fuck quota for this entry so ill try and direct my vocabulary into new realms of fucking awesomeness.
so anyway... i was thinking about something today. oh yeah. i saw time magazines pictures of the year and one of the pictures was a party bus going to a prom at the high school that inspired the TV series the OC. It enfuriated me. i ripped the page out of the magazine and flushed it down the toilet that i was sitting on while i read. i moved on to maxim. if im gonna read shit it better be properly labeled.
in other news... ive been making some strides in getting over the anxiety of influence. ive been told my poetry tends to skew toward wallace-stevens-esque-ness with C.D. Wright sprinkles. I've been avoiding reading their work like the black plague, but I did end up reading one of C.D. Wrights books. I might look up wallace sometime too. being a vessel of tradition ain't so bad so long as i dont let it trap me. oh yeah... fuck this train of thought... what i really wanted to say was this:
i pulled out the 400 pages of notes i wrote in highschool when i was trying to put together a galaxy to host the space opera that i was beginning to envision in middle school. i saw star wars way back then and i was like: man this is awesome, but what about... what if... how come... and the questions lead me, in my writing, to decide i would make my own saga. my own fucking epic. so im gonna try and work on it some more over christmas break. its one of the projects that has literally been nagging the back of my head for years. one thing though... if its ever adapted for cinema... cuz im gonna write the screenplay anyway once its done... but if it ever is... or if it makes it to animation... i get to pick the soundtrack
12/2/06
better people 12/02/06
Subject : better people
Posted Date: : Dec 2, 2006 8:49 PM
having viewed some clips from saw 1 2 and 3 i realized something: the films dont really inspire people to change. if anything they inspire people to judge. they seem to make it okay to judge others on their actions and life styles almost without any reasonable grounds to do so. brutality and cynicism excercised with such abandon as to defy reason.
yes, there are bad people out there who are squandering their lives, but where does anyone get off giving them so much unreasonable shit about it. life is a terrific and painfilled experience, so why add to bad side of it by creating grief. people have the capacity to change. why form permanent assessments of the entiriety of someone's life when they've only lived half of it? killing people doesnt make other people around them want to change. it might inspire a moment of reflection in people already capable recieving such moments, but beyond that what more can anyone really ask or do apart from killing everyone on the planet? part of living is living with people who live off of others. in alot of ways its how communities survive at all. asking someone to change isn't unreasonable. forcing someone to change is crossing the line.
i dunno. i enjoy living. ive considered suicide. everyone has. everyone makes bad decisions and holds grudges whether they mean to or not. trying to solve that problem is like trying to come up with a cure for being human. if there's anything at all to take away from those movies its that there's no substitute for having a conscience and a perspective that is as near to balanced as your brain can manage to see. the world isnt wholly evil and neither are all the people in it as much as it feels and appears that way sometimes.
also those movies were just gross.
im going to watch Interstella 5555 now... because daft punk makes my heart smile like no other band can.
Posted Date: : Dec 2, 2006 8:49 PM
having viewed some clips from saw 1 2 and 3 i realized something: the films dont really inspire people to change. if anything they inspire people to judge. they seem to make it okay to judge others on their actions and life styles almost without any reasonable grounds to do so. brutality and cynicism excercised with such abandon as to defy reason.
yes, there are bad people out there who are squandering their lives, but where does anyone get off giving them so much unreasonable shit about it. life is a terrific and painfilled experience, so why add to bad side of it by creating grief. people have the capacity to change. why form permanent assessments of the entiriety of someone's life when they've only lived half of it? killing people doesnt make other people around them want to change. it might inspire a moment of reflection in people already capable recieving such moments, but beyond that what more can anyone really ask or do apart from killing everyone on the planet? part of living is living with people who live off of others. in alot of ways its how communities survive at all. asking someone to change isn't unreasonable. forcing someone to change is crossing the line.
i dunno. i enjoy living. ive considered suicide. everyone has. everyone makes bad decisions and holds grudges whether they mean to or not. trying to solve that problem is like trying to come up with a cure for being human. if there's anything at all to take away from those movies its that there's no substitute for having a conscience and a perspective that is as near to balanced as your brain can manage to see. the world isnt wholly evil and neither are all the people in it as much as it feels and appears that way sometimes.
also those movies were just gross.
im going to watch Interstella 5555 now... because daft punk makes my heart smile like no other band can.
12/1/06
katamari fortissimo damacy 12/01/06
Subject : katamari fortissimo damacy
Posted Date: : Dec 1, 2006 7:09 PM
katamari damacy is one of the most incredible video games ever.
the best song on the soundtrack is "angel flavor's present," and whats more is that every song has something to do with rolling things up into balls. the story goes that your daddy, the king of the universe, somehow fucked things up and accidentally destroyed every star in the sky. so... being the good natured guy he is (however, very busy because he has a universe to run) he decides to let you take a crack at fixing things. he gives you this ball called a katamari and your job is to roll it around and pick up progressively larger and larger things (starting with thumbtacks, chewing gum, paper clips, and moving through the course of the game to buildings, cars, and trees). the last level of the game is picking up continents on earth. if your katamari becomes massive enough by the end it ignites into a star. pretty bad ass and one of the best and most diverse gaming soundtracks ever. play it.
against my better judgement, ive started watching inuyasha. fuedal drama is okay (champloo) but this stuff is just shitty. its addicting in the way lost, or MTV made, or even everybody loves raymond is addicting. my shame knows no bounds.
on a side note... im pretty sure my professor is screwing me over by giving me an additional assignment in the same vein of a previous assignment. he just made the kill list.
on a further askew side note... i think im going to save up some money and buy some badass sex toys. if i can drink when i want to and smoke when i want to why cant i have sex with inanimate objects when i want to? so i will. it sounds bad, but its really not. if you can isolate yourself so far from your hand that masturbation gets you off quickly you might as well spring for one. im also thinking about having someone interview my alter self. i was really thinking about it the other day because if theres one thing ive always wanted to know its who's at the controls when i black out. so im going to have someone strap me down and feed me shots till i switch over then record an interview. i guess ill have to cathetize myself so i dont piss my pants or something during the process.
im kind of looking forward to it.
im also considering freestyling a poem here at some point. for more poetry can be kind of embarassing... like ejaculating... except that its really awesome when you can free up a good one... like ejaculating... then there's the fear of inadequacy... like ejaculating... and being completely misunderstood... like pre-mature ejaculation... and then the other thing is once its out there its out there and theres no bringing it back... like nuclear missles. so im considering it. knowing me ill do it. cuz i love words.
Posted Date: : Dec 1, 2006 7:09 PM
katamari damacy is one of the most incredible video games ever.
the best song on the soundtrack is "angel flavor's present," and whats more is that every song has something to do with rolling things up into balls. the story goes that your daddy, the king of the universe, somehow fucked things up and accidentally destroyed every star in the sky. so... being the good natured guy he is (however, very busy because he has a universe to run) he decides to let you take a crack at fixing things. he gives you this ball called a katamari and your job is to roll it around and pick up progressively larger and larger things (starting with thumbtacks, chewing gum, paper clips, and moving through the course of the game to buildings, cars, and trees). the last level of the game is picking up continents on earth. if your katamari becomes massive enough by the end it ignites into a star. pretty bad ass and one of the best and most diverse gaming soundtracks ever. play it.
against my better judgement, ive started watching inuyasha. fuedal drama is okay (champloo) but this stuff is just shitty. its addicting in the way lost, or MTV made, or even everybody loves raymond is addicting. my shame knows no bounds.
on a side note... im pretty sure my professor is screwing me over by giving me an additional assignment in the same vein of a previous assignment. he just made the kill list.
on a further askew side note... i think im going to save up some money and buy some badass sex toys. if i can drink when i want to and smoke when i want to why cant i have sex with inanimate objects when i want to? so i will. it sounds bad, but its really not. if you can isolate yourself so far from your hand that masturbation gets you off quickly you might as well spring for one. im also thinking about having someone interview my alter self. i was really thinking about it the other day because if theres one thing ive always wanted to know its who's at the controls when i black out. so im going to have someone strap me down and feed me shots till i switch over then record an interview. i guess ill have to cathetize myself so i dont piss my pants or something during the process.
im kind of looking forward to it.
im also considering freestyling a poem here at some point. for more poetry can be kind of embarassing... like ejaculating... except that its really awesome when you can free up a good one... like ejaculating... then there's the fear of inadequacy... like ejaculating... and being completely misunderstood... like pre-mature ejaculation... and then the other thing is once its out there its out there and theres no bringing it back... like nuclear missles. so im considering it. knowing me ill do it. cuz i love words.
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