Things of late and how life is running late.
Hello livejournal.
It's been a while. I have plenty of news. I don't think I've updated since December of last year. Well, that was only a month ago, but I have a flair for the dramatic and like to flaunt it. Don't hate the player, hate the game. Anyway, what's new with me, you ask? Well, I have moved into a fabulous new house that is not reminiscent of a shithole. Some people have gone as far as to call it an "old lady" house. Well, it is an old lady house, and a very nice one. House doings proceed well except for the couch deficiency. We need some couches. If anyone is getting rid of a couch, preferably an unpissed, uncrapped, and uncummed upon one, please, get in contact with me and we'll arrange a pick up. I'll provide you with a receipt and you can try and write it off as a charitable donation.
I turned 25 in early January. It's like homegirl AAliyah said, before her life was cut so tragically short, "Age ain't nuthin' but a number." If aaliyah did not say this, correct me, because I'm 25 and no longer hip. I'm in between hipness. I'm too old to be hip in the rapscallion filled hardcore scene and too young to be hip in the curmudgeon filled bar scene. However, I have no interest in the bar scene and will not seek a junior position in that destitute academy. As for the hardcore scene, I guess I'm hip, but I'm losing cool. 22 to 23 are good hardcore hip years. In fact, I can't even dance anymore, because of degenerative hip disease. Wait, I never really danced at shows anyway. You won't see me in photos. However, I'm still a right looker and you wish you had my photo. I need to change that livejournal picture. I only had a mustache for a few days. I imagine that people who do not know me that happen upon my livejournal think of me as a mustachioed weirdo and have blocked my livejournal from their children's view. Anywho, I'm getting old. You'll have to put me down soon.
In other age related news, I just got a brand new 8-week old German Shepherd/Siberian Husky mixed breed puppy! She's beautiful and her name is Zoe. It took a long time to come up with a name for the pup, but it's a cute name for a cute dog. Many names were tried and many names were rejected. Zoe knows to go on her papers most of the time and she's getting better at getting my attention and letting me know that she needs to go outside. She's sitting on my lap as I type this, warmly, fuzzily, and cuddly. Zoe got my goat this morning, however, as she decided that the living room was the appropriate place to evacuate her bowels and that my bedroom floor suited itself well to the purpose of urine elimination. That's a nice way of saying that she shit in the living room and pissed on my bedroom floor. Well, I love the little fucker and it's easy to forgive her. I'll post her picture once I remember how to do so. I used to have a webpage many years ago, but I can't remember all the href img src bullshit these days. HTMyass.
In old news, I still love Jillian and worship her nightly as she continues to amaze me. Really, she's perfect. She will flat out deny the allegation of perfection, but she surpasses all "standards" I have ever established with respect to the opposite sex. I would like to pick up and move away with her to some faraway place and live unfettered. However, I'm not a selfish person and her wondrousness must be shared with her family and friends. She needs to finish college too, so that way she can get a high paying job and support my ass while I take care of the dog. I don't like that work thing, I find humans unfit for "traditional" labor. No sillier species exist.
In job related news, I put in job applications at Media Play and Steve's Wonderful World of Pets and received neither a callback nor an interview. I believe myself to be overqualified and place the blame squarely on the $120,000 of specialized education I choose to ignore in the quest for spiritual enlightenment. A hint to those of you who attend college currently and to those who plan a future attendance : it's not the course work that matters, it's the course, the journey you travel, that truly matters. I have learned no greater truth in life thus far, other than of course, people will invariably disappoint you and one must learn to rely on oneself. Take these two tidbits and write me when you want to thank me for saving your life.
I'm not an egotist, I just happen to be right a lot.
In film news, I saw two terrific movies yesterday. Firstly, I finally viewed Stephen Soderbergh's "Traffic." I must say that this is one movie that I regret missing in theatrical release. Few pictures radiate with such energy and verisimilitude. Take an all star cast of character actors, a well scripted nearly non-fictional story, and put a great director, DP, and editor together and out comes a picture like "Traffic." Harrison Ford turned down the Michael Douglas role and I bet he's kicking his own ass for that mistake. It's a powerhouse of a film that neatly ties together the personal and political struggle fought in the war on drugs. The script engendered a great deal of humility upon the role of the government and shows how powerless our great protectorate is in the war on drugs.
At the theatre, I saw "The Royal Tenenbaums," and had a rollicking good time. The writer/director of both "Bottle Rocket," and "Rushmore," has matriculated to a new level of filmmaking maturity. Again, the film staffs a great cast featuring one of my all time favorites, Gene Hackman. What an uncompromising, natural performer he is. Enough about Hackman, we all know he's fantastic. Wes Andersons' "The Royal Tenenbaums" is to Paul Thomas Andersons' "Magnolia" as "Bottle Rocket" is to "Hard Eight," filmmakers respective. The audience is treated to a wildly creative character based, dialogue driven dramedy about a family of geniuses, their procession through life cumulating in the return of their father. There are a lot of big laughs, a few especially endearing moments, and enough offbeat characters to satisfy any fan of dysfunctional Americana. I highly recommend this film. Need I mention that Bill Murray also plays a role?
Anyway, enough of my fucking drivelesque babble. I'm off. I have a newspaper, a cup of coffee, and a puppy to keep me company.
It's been a while. I have plenty of news. I don't think I've updated since December of last year. Well, that was only a month ago, but I have a flair for the dramatic and like to flaunt it. Don't hate the player, hate the game. Anyway, what's new with me, you ask? Well, I have moved into a fabulous new house that is not reminiscent of a shithole. Some people have gone as far as to call it an "old lady" house. Well, it is an old lady house, and a very nice one. House doings proceed well except for the couch deficiency. We need some couches. If anyone is getting rid of a couch, preferably an unpissed, uncrapped, and uncummed upon one, please, get in contact with me and we'll arrange a pick up. I'll provide you with a receipt and you can try and write it off as a charitable donation.
I turned 25 in early January. It's like homegirl AAliyah said, before her life was cut so tragically short, "Age ain't nuthin' but a number." If aaliyah did not say this, correct me, because I'm 25 and no longer hip. I'm in between hipness. I'm too old to be hip in the rapscallion filled hardcore scene and too young to be hip in the curmudgeon filled bar scene. However, I have no interest in the bar scene and will not seek a junior position in that destitute academy. As for the hardcore scene, I guess I'm hip, but I'm losing cool. 22 to 23 are good hardcore hip years. In fact, I can't even dance anymore, because of degenerative hip disease. Wait, I never really danced at shows anyway. You won't see me in photos. However, I'm still a right looker and you wish you had my photo. I need to change that livejournal picture. I only had a mustache for a few days. I imagine that people who do not know me that happen upon my livejournal think of me as a mustachioed weirdo and have blocked my livejournal from their children's view. Anywho, I'm getting old. You'll have to put me down soon.
In other age related news, I just got a brand new 8-week old German Shepherd/Siberian Husky mixed breed puppy! She's beautiful and her name is Zoe. It took a long time to come up with a name for the pup, but it's a cute name for a cute dog. Many names were tried and many names were rejected. Zoe knows to go on her papers most of the time and she's getting better at getting my attention and letting me know that she needs to go outside. She's sitting on my lap as I type this, warmly, fuzzily, and cuddly. Zoe got my goat this morning, however, as she decided that the living room was the appropriate place to evacuate her bowels and that my bedroom floor suited itself well to the purpose of urine elimination. That's a nice way of saying that she shit in the living room and pissed on my bedroom floor. Well, I love the little fucker and it's easy to forgive her. I'll post her picture once I remember how to do so. I used to have a webpage many years ago, but I can't remember all the href img src bullshit these days. HTMyass.
In old news, I still love Jillian and worship her nightly as she continues to amaze me. Really, she's perfect. She will flat out deny the allegation of perfection, but she surpasses all "standards" I have ever established with respect to the opposite sex. I would like to pick up and move away with her to some faraway place and live unfettered. However, I'm not a selfish person and her wondrousness must be shared with her family and friends. She needs to finish college too, so that way she can get a high paying job and support my ass while I take care of the dog. I don't like that work thing, I find humans unfit for "traditional" labor. No sillier species exist.
In job related news, I put in job applications at Media Play and Steve's Wonderful World of Pets and received neither a callback nor an interview. I believe myself to be overqualified and place the blame squarely on the $120,000 of specialized education I choose to ignore in the quest for spiritual enlightenment. A hint to those of you who attend college currently and to those who plan a future attendance : it's not the course work that matters, it's the course, the journey you travel, that truly matters. I have learned no greater truth in life thus far, other than of course, people will invariably disappoint you and one must learn to rely on oneself. Take these two tidbits and write me when you want to thank me for saving your life.
I'm not an egotist, I just happen to be right a lot.
In film news, I saw two terrific movies yesterday. Firstly, I finally viewed Stephen Soderbergh's "Traffic." I must say that this is one movie that I regret missing in theatrical release. Few pictures radiate with such energy and verisimilitude. Take an all star cast of character actors, a well scripted nearly non-fictional story, and put a great director, DP, and editor together and out comes a picture like "Traffic." Harrison Ford turned down the Michael Douglas role and I bet he's kicking his own ass for that mistake. It's a powerhouse of a film that neatly ties together the personal and political struggle fought in the war on drugs. The script engendered a great deal of humility upon the role of the government and shows how powerless our great protectorate is in the war on drugs.
At the theatre, I saw "The Royal Tenenbaums," and had a rollicking good time. The writer/director of both "Bottle Rocket," and "Rushmore," has matriculated to a new level of filmmaking maturity. Again, the film staffs a great cast featuring one of my all time favorites, Gene Hackman. What an uncompromising, natural performer he is. Enough about Hackman, we all know he's fantastic. Wes Andersons' "The Royal Tenenbaums" is to Paul Thomas Andersons' "Magnolia" as "Bottle Rocket" is to "Hard Eight," filmmakers respective. The audience is treated to a wildly creative character based, dialogue driven dramedy about a family of geniuses, their procession through life cumulating in the return of their father. There are a lot of big laughs, a few especially endearing moments, and enough offbeat characters to satisfy any fan of dysfunctional Americana. I highly recommend this film. Need I mention that Bill Murray also plays a role?
Anyway, enough of my fucking drivelesque babble. I'm off. I have a newspaper, a cup of coffee, and a puppy to keep me company.