story time and various other sundries
the beginning to what will probably end up being an incredibly short and stupid short story:
"Is it over yet?"
Every day I wake up with this question running throught my mind: is it over yet? If I were smarter, or philosophically inclined, the question might have more meaning. As it is, it's simply another step incorporated into the factory routine. I suppose I could occasionally change the question--just to give it meaning. But I like it; it's comfortable.
The dog has his cold, wet, snuffling nose in my ear at the first sign of life. I could use a smoke anyway. By the time I finally drag myself off the bed, the clock is blinking 12:30. It must need new batteries. There's no way that it's this early. Unfortunately, my watch begs to differ. Cursing, I start to blindly hunt for a somewhat clean pair of, well, anything, really, before realizing that my inability to see is due, not to hangover-enhanced grogginess, but to the fact that my glasses are...somewhere other than on my face. I'm tempted to let the dog walk himself and crawl back into bed. As I stand in the middle of the room, half naked and debating what to do, I realize the neighborhood monster across the street has been banging on his drumset for at least a good hour, and is the sole reason for this early morning torture. He's been trying to do the same quarter note beat for five years and hasn't improved at all. Sometimes I wish I could kick his head in.
Now, assuming you've gotten this far, to the few of you who actually read this journal, would you:
a) want to continue reading the story
b) rather scoop your eyes out with spoons than read any more
c) not care either way
Honesty has only ever killed emo kids, and since I'm not emo, I'd like some honesty. I'd rather not waste my time.
Have you ever felt that you were born in the wrong time period? Fashion and music between the 70s and now was and is outrageously horrible. What's up the the absolute shite on the radio these days? Give me good old fashioned rock n roll: the troggs, the kinks, the who... and then some of that mod inspired current rock (i.e. the redwalls). Seriously people just need to stop it with the faggoty screamo stuff. That's right, I said faggoty. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. No offense to my friends who are gay and bi. It's simply a revolt against hypocritical PCness, closet homophobia, etc.
People who are all about equal rights and all that jazz, but go around saying things are gay etc. /rant
"Is it over yet?"
Every day I wake up with this question running throught my mind: is it over yet? If I were smarter, or philosophically inclined, the question might have more meaning. As it is, it's simply another step incorporated into the factory routine. I suppose I could occasionally change the question--just to give it meaning. But I like it; it's comfortable.
The dog has his cold, wet, snuffling nose in my ear at the first sign of life. I could use a smoke anyway. By the time I finally drag myself off the bed, the clock is blinking 12:30. It must need new batteries. There's no way that it's this early. Unfortunately, my watch begs to differ. Cursing, I start to blindly hunt for a somewhat clean pair of, well, anything, really, before realizing that my inability to see is due, not to hangover-enhanced grogginess, but to the fact that my glasses are...somewhere other than on my face. I'm tempted to let the dog walk himself and crawl back into bed. As I stand in the middle of the room, half naked and debating what to do, I realize the neighborhood monster across the street has been banging on his drumset for at least a good hour, and is the sole reason for this early morning torture. He's been trying to do the same quarter note beat for five years and hasn't improved at all. Sometimes I wish I could kick his head in.
Now, assuming you've gotten this far, to the few of you who actually read this journal, would you:
a) want to continue reading the story
b) rather scoop your eyes out with spoons than read any more
c) not care either way
Honesty has only ever killed emo kids, and since I'm not emo, I'd like some honesty. I'd rather not waste my time.
Have you ever felt that you were born in the wrong time period? Fashion and music between the 70s and now was and is outrageously horrible. What's up the the absolute shite on the radio these days? Give me good old fashioned rock n roll: the troggs, the kinks, the who... and then some of that mod inspired current rock (i.e. the redwalls). Seriously people just need to stop it with the faggoty screamo stuff. That's right, I said faggoty. Put that in your pipe and smoke it. No offense to my friends who are gay and bi. It's simply a revolt against hypocritical PCness, closet homophobia, etc.
People who are all about equal rights and all that jazz, but go around saying things are gay etc. /rant