That Instant

You realize you are pushing your cycles and cams and pistons and engraved toothsets of finished brass over to force change so the person who loves you can see your moss and lichened belly clearly.

The Fall and Collective Effort and No Cussing This Time and Craigslist (Again)

Do you ever get the feeling that you're falling and then it changes to a feeling of being pulled into the jet wash of a landing airliner feet first and then you realize that the ground isn't moving, but the sky is and you get sick anyway and you fall face first onto your front lawn and dry heave for ten minutes and then realize that you probably should have just stayed inside to begin with?

I get that feeling sometimes.

So tell me, would you tell me if I had a really bad idea? No? Great. So I was thinking about writing MF Doom a letter and including in that letter a proposal to become his intern. Would that be crazy? I think so. What if I wrote a letter to every artist and writer I admire with a similar proposal. I don't really want to make money as much as I want the opportunity for exposure and guidance.

I was also thinking about using craiglist to find friends. I think I mentioned that before. Maybe I'll meet a murderer. That would be interesting. Probably bad news, but interesting. I mean, I wouldn't be going out specifically to get murdered, but I'm not entirely sure I'd be completely opposed to it either. Maybe I'll try and use it to move my wares.

A friend of mine is kicking my ass to write a novel. I started one. I'm about 8000 words in. I'm not sure I'm going to finish it. No, scratch that. I am going to finish it. The problem is that I don't particularly care about the characters. It doesn't make it that much more difficult to write. It just doesn't make it that much more interesting.

Now that I'm back together I was expecting sunshine to come flooding back in, but it hasn't. I'm not really sure if anything else is really missing. I was thinking about emailing my old professors to show them my work and ask for pointers. I emailed them once before and they basically unanimously panned my plea for assistance. It was shocking. I don't think I've really recovered from that. What lesson could they possibly be trying to teach me by not responding at all? Well, there was one response. The response was essentially a non-response, but a statement of non-response. I can respect that. I think.

I've noticed a warmth in my skin. I can't tell if it's just the sensation of my blood flowing against the temperature difference of my cold muscles or if it's just feeling warm. I can see why they wanted to put me on medication. It's not like I don't need it. I also wonder if 30 will be any different. One thing that has stood out over the last few days is that I've been living in a situation where everyone tells me to do something other than what it is I know I am built to do and do well. I think I will still make the suicide diary and the music hit list. I'm thinking about moving north and the ways in which I can make that happen. I want to order sex toys. Actually, so I was considering posting to craigslist about my thoughts on a cross country migration. I don't want to move to Pittsburgh until I'm completely ready to die there.

I keep talking about craigslist, but I haven't done anything about it have I? Well I will. I did some drawing today. Do you like it? I kind of do. I cleaned up my language today too. I miss the hospital. They were so constructive there. And I earned the right to stay up past 9:30 to watch the video of soothing sounds and star fields by going to start your day group everyday for two weeks. I even put together a jigsaw puzzle. I got a sticker for that. Not even joking, it was a pretty awesome feeling. What day is it? Remember that song that was all about little things the narrator learned through his life? That song got played so much it became sickening.

I sent an accidental email. No response on that either. Maybe I'll shoot an email to my old therapist. He always knows when to shut the hell up. Pardon. Sometimes I wonder if I'm dragging my feet about writing because I know when I have nothing left to say I'll very likely not put up with the hassle of occupying my body. I ran through a handle in 4 days. I'm going to make a terrible father. Well, maybe not. I slept with the lights off after I stiff night of drinking. It was the first time in a while. I've been thinking about winning a writing fellowship for some time. There's a certain validation of efforts that comes from winning. There's a certain confirmation in other people telling you "yes, go forth and do this thing because you've earned it". What I've come to realize is that I'm in one. It's not ideal. It's not glamorous. It's full of distractions. The desk is terrible but, it's my desk, and it's glamor enough, and distractions are inevitable. It's my fellowship.

In my dream last night I got into an argument with someone about the word 'suiterate'. It's not a word, but the guy made a very good case. The odd thing was as we were arguing and for some reason smoking cigars while we walked the streets at midnight near the el trains, a cat, a Tabby, came tearing down the street in a motorized shopping cart that couldn't have been more than a foot tall. The little guy was really moving and the man I was talking to about the possible uses of a word like 'suiterate' had to jump out of the way as this thing came screaming past us and took a hard left. We both stood there for a while and then went on arguing as we walked down the middle of a street. It wasn't all that strange.



At any rate, I should go to sleep and try to eat in the morning. I don't know when I started to hate eating food, but I've lost a ton of weight. Used to be 189 and now I'm 170. It blows and I hate doing it, but I have to make myself eat so I can wake up and do things. I love dreaming. I hate being awake. I love you. That's why I keep on. Hoping for some hokey conclusion to whatever this thing has been.


///Way Out West - "The Fall" I don't know if I listed this track already, but it is close to my heart. "And I miss you most of all, my darling, when Autumn leaves start to fall." To my ex, I do miss you most of all though I realize it was as realistic an expectation for success as gunning for snow in mid August. The lyrics are actually from some other older song, but they play well with the, in my opinion, conservative engineering effort. No deafening use of reverbs. No auto-tones. No wind chimes. It gets a little mundane in the mid stretch, but in the end it rewards the listener with a beautiful vocal break. I look forward so much to the taste of winter air and this song in my headphones and melancholy that is so much sweeter, so much more palatable, than the bitterness of the real and present nothing.

Panel 3 and "What Had Happened Was..."

Panel 3 for poetry is above. Panel 3 option is below. Haven't decided which one to go with yet, but that's a good problem to have.

So what happened is there was me and her and now there's just me. And me and her were supposed to be best friends, but that's sort of not happening. Or maybe it is. Maybe I just don't understand what a best friend is supposed to be. So, in the spirit of lolcats, I has a sad. It's distressing and depressing and it's every morning waking up from dreams of being left and having to leave and spending the day working, but in the back of my mind wishing and hoping and yearning for the day not to end and a new one to begin and to have to go to sleep and dream again and wake. All I want is for the night to keep going and my eyes to not close and my mind to not show me things that can't exist.

I saw (500) Days of Summer and, in seeing it, I finally "got it". I suppose, the reason (precipitating from the root cancer eating its way into my life through horrific family ties) for the separation was something along the lines of she really liked me, but as for someone to spend the rest of her life with she simply could not be sure. It would be an unfair gamble for her, and unfair of me to demand that she roll her dice with someone living at the edge of an abyssal plain. I wouldn't want to make anyone have to step into and live in the midst of the daily bullshit that goes on behind the scenes of the farce of my family and I know now that is what I was asking her to do.

It's supremely aggravating and gut punching the way things unfurled because a lot of avoidable things happened through their intent... and then to be constantly asked by the culpable behind the scenes actors who helped orchestrate failure "so how's she doing, do you guys talk?" is particularly galling. I want to stab them in their fat, beady eyed faces and slit their throats. So many awful things happened, caused by their utter lack of support, religious conceit, and selfishness and they'll never take responsibility for their massive role in cutting my legs out from under me with almost super villain frequency. It's funny because there is almost no other way to describe it. It's like James and the Giant Peach, but I still haven't had the benefit of magical intervention.

In another world, an alternate space, where they didn't exist and I did and all the stupid money issues I had nothing to do with never happened and I finished school because I had the support and genuine concern of parents who were not themselves bitter, money grubbing, pathetic shells of themselves locked in a dead end marriage that ate the lives of their children to survive... we're still together.

Where does love go. Who the fuck knows. How do you stay best friends with someone who doesn't talk to you? You send letters and messages and it starts to feel like you're the sorry sumbitch in no man's land waiting for the mail service to get through, but it never does and you'll never know why. I don't think I'll ever be alright with that. As for my romanticized view of the world: it's still there and still tinted Gothic.

I hate when people say things like "it could be worse." Of course it could be worse, but that doesn't exactly make the current unpleasantness any more livable. Anywho. Probably the last time I tag a post with "girlfriend" for a while. I don't think I'll ever be okay, but in time I'll have grown into another person and this person who feels this way will have died and the new person won't remember how the corpse felt, but will see the old photographs and think "oh, how charming. Wonder how that ended". It would be easier if it wasn't glaringly obvious how drastically, positively, different things could have been in my life from the time I was 5 years old to now without them destroying the things I cherished and the things that made me laugh and smile and the people around me and my siblings. They know it too. They'll never admit it though and that's why I will hate them until the day they die and I can sleep knowing they can never hurt me and my relationships with the people I love ever again.





///Dntel - "(This is) The Dream of Evan and Chan" Someday soon, I'll leave it all behind. Sorry for asking you to listen to all of that and thanks if you did.

Golfcart Flamingo Logo

=_= very tired. The state of perpetual collapse that plagues my absolutely fucking retarded family life had me so angry and out of sorts I literally could not function and then the wonderful flip side of that situation was that I've been erased by someone I thought was a best friend (more about that later) so I had the unique pleasure of getting fucked from every direction at once. So its back on the smokes, collar up, stiff upper lip, and into that fucking wind.

This is what I managed to accomplish in a few hours of dedicated work when the bewilderment calmed down.



Three more to go. Dear god, if you're out there... please don't shit on me again today. I like getting work done. You aren't helping so just stay the fuck out of my way, okay? Thanks.

///El-P - "The League of Extraordinary Nobodies" '...and we haven't even gotten to the part where it's a joke..."

sex laws

heres a quickie for you. youre gonna like this. its that abc family humor we've all come to adore here in america.

chelsea handler.

thats it. thats the joke. get it? shes a train wreck of a human being who has made her fame on drinking fluids like a storm drain and collecting cocks stains on her polymer infused face like ... uhm ... HAH like a sham wow. as seen on tv. look it up. and the best part is shes on late night just in time for you to go to bed and your kids to get up and learn how adults behave. she probably needs to swallow a box of serrated paper clips.

no but the joke... the quickie is... sex laws. right? bear with.

so as guys get to liking a woman more then tend to contain their functions... but as women get to liking men more they tend to release them. so in the final moments before marriage its the guy trying not to rip out the greasiest fart of his life and the girl simply letting the ropey knots of fumes fly faster than cloth coils off a boat chugging out of the hudson bay at full steam and moored at the wrong end.

that analogy was way too long. but i hope it was graphic enough for you to taste the moment. funny, no? no, probably not. i understand. i didnt mean to take you that far along. you probably should have gotten off at chelsea handler. sorry bout that.

///david julyan - "the polaroid fades" that feeling when you notice everyone was laughing minutes ago and now theyre all staring every which way, into every corner of the room, but never at eachother, and you notice your cup has gotten warm from your sweating palm and the room is dingy and its 2.30 in the morning and you dont really know what's keeping you there besides wanting to be a part of someone's life. anyone's life.

the starvation diet 05/31/07

Subject : the starvation diet continues
Posted Date: : May 31, 2007 3:39 PM

more and more i ask myself "is it worth it" less and less. kind of a disjoint sentence, but there are worse things, like having your tongue fall out. in the grand mother fucking scheme of things a few months is like a few months. in a decade there are 120 months. three months. one hundred. and twenty. months. three months. 3 months not so big. in lieu of the beautacious anne to bounce my lunacy off of ive taken up reading. you would think that a writer would read a lot, but a writer, namely me, dont necessasarily do that.

dont get me wrong, i read a lot. just not a lot of the things i would prefer to be reading at any given moment in time. im thinking once i finish my american beauty | donnie darko parody i'll post it here.... and then start on a 14 page poem to my lover. yeah thats right. romantic, i know. whats that? not what you were thinking? you put another word in front of the "i know?" well good for you. you should probably congratulate yourself if you haven't already. you have? well, fine job. anyway, i want to do this because i want to mail her something. i've never mailed anything to spain before so this is somewhat of an exhillirating idea for me. probably not so much, you. i also want to get started writing a poem everyday. just because its healthy. in a very healthful way. to be in a very healthful way.

i really reallllly want to go to spain to be with her. i would potentially ride in a crate with a single airhole on a cut rate airline and assuming i didnt get there dead it would all have been worth it. but since i would probably not survive the trip ill just wait for her to come back, possibly twiddle my thumbs, and also possibly get a tatoo and another ear piercing. a tatoo of what is the question. i really wanted a snowflake, but now i feel like there are better symbols to describe myself to people who dont know me who might see me shirtless at the beach or something. im still leaning toward a snowflake but i could also go for animals (real or imagined), other elemental/weather symbols, and possibly man made objects, excluding crosses. i could also go for names... maybe. i should probably wait on names till knots have been tied... which may or may not happen. you never know how things will go when you're just 22. im trying not to over run myself to the point of being delusional about love. im pretty sure my results are mixed.

ive taken to shouting at my guinea pig. he doesnt understand anyway. more on our relationship next time. ill try to include more illegally copied internet pictures too. no one likes a dry martini unless theyre pretending to.

///mum - "there is a number of small things" a classic builder song. elements are added and added as what i would call the chorus... maybe just the chore chords cycle round and round... until the song reaches its peak 4 and a half minutes in. from there it begins to slowly unravel into a number of small things, each one precious and vital as a gem stone in a black velvet pouch. give it a listen on a tuesday night. yes. a tuesday night.

old feelings 05/30/07

Subject : old feelings ain't nothing new
Posted Date: : May 30, 2007 11:29 PM

something i immediately miss about smoking cigarettes, beyond the non-specific sensations of wanting to smoke something, is having an excuse to go outside at anytime. not that i cant go outside anytime, i just cant exactly go outside and do pushups or go outside for a run at 2am. you gotta keep close to the lights outside your house or you might get shanked or something. you could just go outside and look up at the sky if you want, but it feels too flowery... too romantic. it's probably just my poor retarded notions getting in the way of me enjoying something i would otherwise enjoy. i guess everything doesnt have to be dark to be enjoyable. just some things. but anyway... the point is i miss cigarettes because they were my excuse to do some things i enjoyed doing but wouldn't do otherwise. which is nice to know. cuz now i dont need them for those purposes, or at least that singular purpose of going outside at odd hours.

i also recently thought about what would happen if i cheated on my gf. its a thought that crosses anyones mind when theyre hugely sexually starved... or intellectually starved... or cuddly starved... basically malnourished because their partner isnt near enough to water their needs whenever the ground beneath their feet gets a little parched... but anyway THE POINT IS after maybe twenty seconds of consideration i came to the conclusion that absolutely nothing good would come of it. then i made a huge bowl of mac and cheese with a ton of milk and ate until my face blushed. actually im gonna take a minute to eat some more.

alright that was awesome. these are all basically old feelings. at least the second and third thirds of it are. this being the third third. like everyone else i wish i could sleep on nights when the moon shines so clearly on my back. and i wish i could make people happy. or at least myself happy. ah well. lets hope im getting there. i think my greatest fear is probably stagnation.

///talvin singh - "one" a 12 minute track that opens up what i believe is his third album, called Ha. the most cerebral 12 minutes of indian electronica ive ever heard. the composition is as technically pleasing as it is aurally stimulating. the sound is, for lack of a better descriptor and sleepiness closing in, comforting like the songs of a mother to a baby's ears.

women with children 03/15/07

Subject : women with children (a.k.a. young'ns)
Posted Date: : Mar 15, 2007 2:32 AM

alright... so walking through the old food court today around 2 in the afternoon after a hard days shopping for some sexy man pants (for myself) and some tighties (for mr. wangthony) and a duffle (for my shotguns) I realized something that other people have probably noticed too: the vitality of younger mothers with their children. I mean seriously... the food court is a pretty shitty place most of the time... especially the one at the mall near my house. Every five to ten seconds someone is thrusting some free sample in your face and the dumb thing is 4 out of the 7 places to eat are all asian food so they basically sell you the same thing at varying price points.

I usually hate it but today was different. really kind of weird in a fun way. instead of the usual dark, dingy, fat people, consumerist, gluttony that usually hangs in the air i felt a kind of lightness... like standing between two statically charged sheets of plastic... or maybe to state that better... like entering a pet store and finding all of the critters had something to say to you about how good you looked. alright well, anyway, the point is, what was different was that the place was full of mothers and their little kids running around and playing with eachother and taking care of eachother. the whole place just effused life.

I always thought pregnant women were pretty hot. yes ive seen pregnant porn... its not very good most of the time. pregnant erotica is more the ticket. but this was on a whole separate level. I think pregnant women are hot because of that feeling i cited before... that sense of utter, glowing, vitality that colors their faces and their voices, even when they're puking or complaining or just feeling awful. It comes out even more when they're in a good mood. It's like walking through a rainy day and suddenly finding yourself in the presence of a sun shower though seconds before everything was cold dark and rotten.

i wanna have kids some day. two of them. a boy and a girl. right now i want to see my girlfriend become my wife and have my kids. i want to see her smile at them and wipe the ice cream off their faces when they decide to use their hands to eat from the bowl instead of their spoons. i want to see her getting rest when she's full with them and taking off from work. i want to cook dinner for her when she cant and change the channel for her when they're born and growing and stealing the tv remotes to use them for space ships.

women with children (inside or outside their bodies) are beautiful. they are beings capable of producing transformative experiences with their mere presence, but to put it differnetly, they are love personified on so many different levels and through so many different relationships and interactions that it would be silly to list them here, so i will shut up and think about my future and hope that it incudes one in a few years. im sure you've probably heard the above before from someone else... so just let this be confirmation to you and stick your snide commentary about "heard it before" up your nose, swirl it around, and when you pull it back out i hope your frontal lobes are dangling from the end of it.

disclaimer - they are not all beautiful. there are some that are frieghtening, repelling, and just plain gross (for reasons that need not be enumerated here). so here's to hoping that the latter (the most recent statement) is //not// in my future... cuz that shit will be difficult to deal with keeping in my mind my dreams and ambitions. sheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeyit.

on another note... my next and last year of college is shaping up to SUCK ASS. thankyou. that is all.

///pink floyd - "wish you were here" just a lazy, rainy, maryland thursday by the marsh and the train tracks kinda song. i havent thought of the deeper meanings of the lyrics. i havent even heard the song recently, but i keep thinking about that chorus fragment... because well... i wish my country mouse was here right now and i wish i was in pittsburgh and ... im just feeling full of wishiness (sans washy. i dont get washy... i get wistful... jerk).

starside 03/11/07

Subject : starside
Posted Date: : Mar 11, 2007 4:04 PM

heading out to the maryland colony to visit my little sister and make some cash.

the only thing that makes riding the greyhound interesting is just thinking about it as a space shuttle. a really crappy, really square, really smelly, but moderately inexpensive, space shuttle, and you are the intrepid... uhm... business man being sent out to the stars to double check some standards and regulations issue for your company that didnt have the loose change to send you first class. now thats interesting. like that jetsons movie.



so here's the plan. disembark monday morning. cut down some trees. chill out.... play some games... maybe watch a movie.... eat... sleep... and repeat until friday afternoon.

embarassing moment of the week: i had so much trouble having an orgasm today that i ended up masterbating from around 4 am till like 7.30. either i really suck at masterbating or something is wrong. i probably just need to give the nerve endings a break.

happy/sad moment of the week: anne's spiraling success. its getting out of control. the only way for things to continue at this pace is if she just started finding thousand dollar bills laying around on the sidewalk. its happy because she's worked hard and is already getting to see some benefits... but its also sad... because im not seeing any returns on my efforts yet... and probably wont for another year. ah well. i can wait. im a patient person. and if it takes too long i can at least learn how to cheat the game a little from watching it so long from the sidelines. hopefully cheating wont end up meaning acquiring a drug problem.

funny moment of the week: i was typing some drunken text messages and i dont know how many of them even got sent... but the thing was that i've been missing anne while shes in florida and at the time i was typing the messages i couldnt think of the words i was trying to say. i knew how i felt but there was a tangle of non responsive brain matter between feelings and typing fingertips. so i eventually just admitted i couldnt find the words... and for some reason i felt ashamed. but god damn it, did i try. there are six or seven saved messages that look like a two year old got their hands on refrigerator magnet letters and spilled the box... on a jigsaw puzzle.

///meat beat manifesto - "what does it all mean" a pretty cool song to listen to when youre gettin 'r done. you know moves are never fake. society is a drag so why not drop it?

teh never ending story 02/15/07

Subject : teh never ending story
Posted Date: : Feb 15, 2007 7:36 PM

so. ive recently become acutely aware of the difficulty in ending aim conversations and im pretty sure its just me (so no experiments are planned). Aim conversations continue on and on and when you stop talking its not like you can walk away from the person. they're still 'there' in a metaphysical sort of way. its like having a table for two and you simply decide not to say anything to this person who is sitting two feet from you because there is nothing more to say. not that its a bad thing, but still its pretty awkard. i've literally spent fifteen minutes at a time wondering if i should close the little instant message box or leave it open in case they say something else.

i mean nothing is more rude than getting up in the middle of someone's thoughts and saying 'well, its been fun. bye.' no one wants to be rude. i think im just taking it all too seirously. like body language. i take body language way too seriously. i think its because my dad always comented on my body language as though it were some ultra secret window into what i was actually thinking. not true. body language is just like words. sometimes people gesture what they dont mean and sometimes people mean what they are not gesturing. the whole system is unreliable.

elizabeth is back. my life with her is like an aim conversation that wont quit for the right reasons. its kind of strange, i suppose. i never thought i would be in this position. i never thought this position would be a good one, but it is. the burden of proof is on me this time around and im okay with that. we are still as fiery as ever. we still fight sometimes. argue. yell. all that. but its good. i like it. i love her. she's the kind of opinionated, sometimes petty, sometimes wrong, always beautiful, sometimes moody, better than me at "things that matter" person that i want to be with. red aura and all. i feel kind of weird about the idea that i may marry her (being that i still havent managed to resolve the task of graduating, still do not have a functional resume', and still have absolutely no idea where im going to end up working or how much money i will even have a chance of making) but its a dream that refuses to quit and i like it.

speaking of dreams, i dreamt i killed a fat little boy with a hammer because he was weak willed. more on that later.

///hooverphonic - "pink fluffy dinosaurs" because when you meet someone that makes you do things you never thought you would you know that person means something more to you than your heart may have let on. also because its finally snowing like its supposed to and this song makes waking up to a winter wonderland of ice covered trees magical. as gay as that sounds.

blood and chocolate 02/07/06

Subject : blood and chocolate
Posted Date: : Feb 7, 2006 5:19 PM

I believe my weekend can be summed up in the condition of my sneakers. They are still clean and white in some places, muddy in others, but of most important notice is the chocolate on the toe of one and the blood on the toe of the other.

The swing arm of my life is at a point such that I can experience the sweetness of everything zen one evening, followed by pointless violence the next. What makes it all the more frustrating is that it is simply a result of not seeing eye to eye on a few key points. Two to be exact. When my girlfriend and I do see eye to eye, or more importantly don't have to see eye to eye on these two points everything is perfect. These two points are completely contingent on college life and will cease to exist as soon as college ends, so what gives? Can we meet halfway? I'm pretty sure we can except that for 90 percent of the time I'm covering 89 percent of the ground; love makes people do crazy things.

If I could describe being in love in three words those words would be "blood and chocolate." I wouldn't really give this up to aspire towards finding my niche in the kept man market, but if blood and chocolate turns into just blood after college, at least I know I can do other things, unlike pocket solar powered calculators.

<3<3<3

everyone and their mama 11/07/05

Subject : everyone and their mama has a six pack

Posted Date: : Nov 7, 2005 10:08 PM

everyone and their mama has a six pack. Yes. Thats right. Absolutely everyone on myspace and their mother has a six pack. If your picture features you with no shirt on while you "floss" your hot six you are essentially saying "this is all i have to offer the rest of the world" please love me. Do you really think your 320 by 480 pixel image of six lumps on your body will make everyone say... "holy shit this dude is awesome, i wish i could be his friend in real life. ill just have to friend him and leave comments as though ive known him since he was born." ... well i guess if you are posting images of your rippling bod this is probably exactly what youre hoping for. confirmation.

So now you know. Your six parcel does not set you apart from the rest of the males. it does not tatoo an alpha on the side of your neck that will suddenly make panties fly down the toned tanned limbs of the honies. in fact everyone has got them. at least everyone who cares. I don;t have one and i dont care. i barely have a four pack and i'll tell you what, its awesome. no maintenance. i eat what i want and drink what i want and enjoy life without the insecurity of narcissism plucking out my eyelashes one by one as i lose sleep wondering if the ho ho i had for lunch is going to coalesce into a gram of fat particles.

instead of pumping iron in the gym with the other roid head protein (shake) guzzlers or beating myself half dead around a track i sit comfortably at home playing video games and shagging my wonderful wonderful lady. who is smoking hot.

earth to slater, a recent poll actually pointed out that more "attractive" women enjoy dating men who look like men. just regular guys. who wear dirty sweatpants, grow beards, and have little egg bellies. i mean, even if someone did go out with you for your sextuplets what is going to happen when they fade away in the deluge of beer, partying, and sedentary bf/gf life? i suppose to someone like you it probably doesnt matter, shallow hal that you are, it's too bad you haven't been beaten upside the head to adjust your view of everyone and everything that may happen to have breasts and a vagina.

oh well. go, mr. six pack picture. go to the gym and to the track and take pictures of yourself with your web cam for myspace when you get back, but don't dally or the sweat may dry off, and we all know how important that lustrous sheen is when dazzling your lesser viewers. in your mind you are god and well, i applaud you, because one day you're going to stare up at the cracked plaster of your bachelor pad with some myspacer slut lieing next to you that you "scored" with (but not really because she was the one who made all the connections and did all the work and will forget about you before the sun comes up while you will reminisce to your home skillets about how you really gave it to her for weeks upon weeks to come) and you will realize she probably did this to the other 9000 "cool dudes" who messaged her after she left comments on their six pack of "hot" abdominal pictures.

Mr. six pack... i salute you! king of the man bimbos.

the only six packs i care about carrying are the ones that come with aluminum tabs and are bound together in plastic ring caddies. =count it!=

singed penis

Subject : singed penis

Posted Date: : Aug 15, 2005 12:30 AM

my training has been seriously set back while using my laptop for an extended period of time to view non pornographic material. to keep the long story short i will simply tell you what happend. i singed my penis with my hard drive. rehab will be a long hard road... featuring no masterbating whatsoever for at least a day... well maybe just 12 hours...

anywho... the moral of the story is when you buy a laptop and scoff at the heat warnings, dont be a fool! heed the wisdom of the handbook written after what was likely tested on some other poor bastard who singed his penis to save yours from subsequent damage. also dont lick open can lids. i did that yesterday because i am a fuckin idiot. there had to have been three hundred times more tomato soup in the can when compared to what was on the lid and i still got greedy and licked it anyway. hmmm.... idiocy. ah well, every day's a journey... or so im told...

i miss my woman too. and my tummy hurts... while im at ill just whine about everyt... nevermind. i read whiney blogs all the time and they make me want to eat my own vomitus to take my mind off of the anurism inducing bitching.

life is good god damn so fucking smile why dont you!