(no subject)
So, for no good reason, I have decided that it would be better off if, instead of having how many-odd individual entries, it would be more effecient to condense them all into one single entry. Sort of a compendium in lieu of a running narration of whatever events of the past year or so that I've been bored enough to document.
That, and I'd like to flood the friends' page of whomsoever might have me listed.
2004-06-20 21:09:00
No matter the cost, no matter the sacrifice I need undergo, I want one. That's gumption right there. The guy gets pissed, wants to do some serious damage, but then realizes that he's limited as long as he doesn't have a tank, so the crazy bastard goes out and constructs himself one, complete with armor, fifty-cals, and all those other amenities we've come to expect from a badass armored vehicle. In fact, if it had a jet engine strapped to the top, it would be almost identical to this sketch I made in sixth grade....oh, and it needs a flamethrower mounted on the side.
I'm sitting here, stupefied by the ingenuity and tenacity necessary to make the fortifications of metal and concrete, as well as the technical accomadations like AC and cameras. The connections he would have to maintain in order to assemble such an arsenal.....
Wait. I changed my mind. The 'dozer is still amazing, but the man himself scares me senseless.
2004-05-02 20:44:00 Still, it persists.
For the past two years now, in almost all of my dreams, I find myself to be telekinetic and, thanks to its ubiquitousness, it stopped being a bizarre element long ago. I give no more thought to lifting objects thirty, forty feet away and whisking them across the room than I do to putting one foot in front of the other and, most of the time, neither does anyone else in my dream.
However, upon my awakening, I find myself bereft of this ability, oft in very humbling circumstances. Unconsciously, I will extend my hand and assume that the keys will levitate my way, only to blink at them stupidly for a good ten seconds before it occurs to me that my mental powers do not extend into the physical and that they never have. Awake, I sometimes feel robbed of what I believe to be a natural endowment, as if I woke up mysteriously blind or crippled. When my eyes are open, I feel diminished.
2004-04-27 01:46:00 After a long while...
Update of the online gallery deal. Can be seen here.
2004-04-07 18:18:00 I mark this day with a black stone
Jackiebug
2004-03-04 22:26:00
So apparently Universal Studios saw it fit to have my internet connection severed for illegal downloads. But thanks to this it was only temporary and they cannot sue. That's right, skankbots. All you have succeeded in doing is legally ratifying my self-given title of Pirate Extraordinaire. Yarrrr!!!
2004-02-13 12:03:00
Arright. I usually don't update this thing, but c'mon. I'm playing receptionist at work and the opportunity to do something I normally don't and get paid at the same time is irresistible. That, and no one is on AIM and I'm bored mindless...but that's only a small factor. Honestly.
Riding the bus to work today, I think I met one of the coolest people I will ever meet in my life. The guy had a British accent and somehow or other, we got to talking about the most bizarre foods we've had in our time. Normally, I can go toe-to-toe with most in that sorta area, but this guy continuously kept kicking my ass...probably due to the fact that he spent three years of his life hitchhiking across Europe, Africa, and the Middle East, doing odd jobs like picking grapes and coal mining for enough cash to rent rooms and eat.
Holy crap. Even though that was a few hours ago, I'm still basking in the romantic fantasy of ditching worldly goods and playing the hobo for a few years, indulging in wanderlust and every sort of whimsical inclination that might float into my head. Of course, parts would suck, like having my bus attacked by men with AKs by the Red Sea, killing three people, but hell.....that has no place in my vagrant utopia. That, and he had the opportunity to eat some REALLY weird things in his travels.
A lot of the people I've been meeting lately seem dead inside, particularly those that I've been meeting at work. However, the singularly vibrant way this man carried himself and spoke of his life was quite invigorating. I didn't even get his name. I'm going to try and see if any of the bus drivers tonight might know him. Christ, the vigor that he exuded...I hope that when I reach his age, my most interesting anecdotes will be on par with his, and not some stale recollection of the time "my son got a dachshund off the internet."
2003-12-14 16:49:00
Yesterday, I realized that my stomach gets morningwood. I discovered this after I made a three-egg omlette and a huge bowl of grits at 8 in the morning, finally went to sleep (I had just gotten in), and then was woken up at noonish. Despite having gorged itself in almost more food than it could handle, me tummy was rip-roarin' and ready to go and it's always been like this. Makes me feel like midnight snacks and the like are a waste of food. Whether I eat it or not, in a few hours, I'll just be grumbly in me tumbly again.
Goddamn belly and its morningwood.
2003-07-25 23:42:00
Shameless fan-art made it's way into the gallery. I needed something to do after that cinematic abortion they termed Tomb Raider. I left the theater a hemophiliac, thanks to it.
2003-07-14 01:06:00
Four weeks of locking myself in the garage every spare moment I got, with an accumulated total of 80+ hours of work. Hopefully, it shows.
The gallery is hereby updated.
2003-06-21 19:41:00
Updated the gallery. I have the feeling that this is all my entries will consist of for a while. Gallery updates.
2003-06-17 21:16:00
OK, I personally dislike whiny posts, so for all of you out there, consider this fair warning.
I feel compelled to take advantage of this overly public medium to share, no, to reiterate something we all know. If you ever feel the need to bug the crap out of someone, there is a single tried and true method, sure-fire, that will never fail to produce maximum results. No need to concoct elaborate schemes like practical jokes or keying cars. If you really want to rile them, just exploit your own inherent laziness. Bugger appointments, fuck phone calls, and dependability be damned. That's right. Fraying someone's last nerve is as easy as ignoring punctuality and breaking promises. And should you ever feel the need to compound the effects, simply make a habit of it. It's that simple.
Indeedy, should the choice ever be presented between hanging out with the racists, the machismo assholes, the airheaded, or the undependable, I say bring on the bigots!, the self-conscious!, the vacuous! I'll take them all! The remainder makes me homicidal.
I try not to let myself get worked up about anything, but god-dammit, even magnanimity has limits.
2003-06-17 14:57:00
Random sharing. I had this bizarre dream a few nights ago. It was one of those totally lucid dreams where I was constantly aware of the fact that I was dreaming and walked about acting with impunity, since all would be unwritten once I woke up. Then, something wonderful or hilarious or somehow noteworthy happened and I was depressed by the fact that in all probability, I wouldn't remember it when I woke up, so I turned to the nearest character in my dream, who has no foundation in real life, and asked him to remind me of the event when I was conscious. He agreed.
In retrospect, that was kinda a dumb move, and it really bothers me that I can remember asking him to remind me, but can't remember what it was in reference to. Just to be on the safe side, I have made preparations to find this unknown man who holds all this vital information from my dream.....so! If anyone runs across a tall, tanned, dark haired man who happens to be telekinetic, refer him this way. He has a message for me.
2003-06-03 12:30:00
Arright. 'Bout time I finally got around to this. For a while I've been wanting to put some of my scribbles online, but never really got around to it. After having the house to myself for a few hours, I got the incentive to sit my ass down, scan all of this, then create a nice little webpage for it to live in. Without any further ado, here is my little gallery.
Be so kind as to share the bugs and glitches, or the comments you might have.
2003-05-31 00:19:00
Well. I never expected to update a day after my first in months, but something on the drive home was so amazingly wonderful, that I must...
Driving home at 11.30 PM, I figure it's quite reasonable to go 50 when the speed limit is 45, yes? Well, apparently, some ass behind me didn't think so, tailgaiting me so closely that were it not so dark, I would have been able to see whether he shaved or not through my rear view mirror. Somewhat disconcerted, I tap the brakes, lighting the brake lights without really slowing down or anything. Not trying to make him rear end me, mind you, but warn him to back off, since it's dark and he wouldn't have a chance in hell should I have to stop short.
Well, sane people would take the hint. He doesn't. He immediately tries to pass me via the turning lane, and almost winds up running into the oncoming raised median. Swerving back behind me, he vacillates backwards and forwards in obvious frustration, constipation, aggravation, whatever. As soon as the median ends, he tries again, almost running into another shoulder.
By this point, we have reached my neighborhood and I turn in, glad to be rid of the impatient jackass, when he follows me in, pulls up along side me, making use of the lane meant for oncoming traffic, rolls down the passenger window, and commences a torrent of obscenities which were inaudible over my radio and through my closed window.
Unwilling to lead this asshole to my house, I stop the car and roll down the window, about to ask him what was the matter. Before I can say anything, he screams "I just wanted to let y'all know that while y'all were fuckin' with me back there," raising several rumpled papers, "today was the day that I was committed to an institution for a nervous breakdown, assholes!"
Biting back the impulsive "congratulations!" I sort of raise my eyebrow and am about to ask him what in the hell he could be meaning, when he shifts into reverse, and peals out of the 30 feet we have driven in my subdivision with squealing tires and lots of acrid smoke.
In retrospect, I really wish I had gone with my reflexive comment, which no doubt would have incensed him to the point where he would have gotten out of the car. Hell, the way he was I could see the veins in his forehead. But still, that would be fine with me. I could take a malnourished little white bugger who looks about 40 years old and like a tax accountant. Hell, the exercise could do me good....the bastard.
Night driving is so wonderful, with the relaxed traffic laws and empty roadways. It always seems to soothe me and bring the best Jacksonville has to offer. I'm loving where it's taking me. Now I am getting the cream of the crop of overworked, overstressed, suicidal loons with a penchant for self-pity and spreading around their misery. I might go for another drive before the night is over.
2003-05-29 23:31:00 Breaking the four month peace
I tried once already to post this, but my computer decided to reject it. Usually, I heed these omens, especially after that one incident. Some friends and I tried at least five times to see Enemy at the Gates but each time were somehow deterred. Rational people would recognize this as a portend of things to come, but not us fools. Nope, we sauntered in, determined to see our movie regardless of the fates, and all subsequently caught monoxide poisoning from the faulty heater. Lucky to be alive.
So naturally I was hesitant to post a LiveJournal entry, especially one which would break a four month moratorium, but hell, who really needs to learn from their past? B'sides, I was coerced into it and the subject matter is so wonderfully rich that there is no way I can resist the Siren's song.
::clears throat::
Sexual situations in movies are often fingered as the leading indicator of the complete degeneracy of American society, but everyone likes them. Even the critics keep watching them, merely hiding behind the facade of boos and hisses. Most of the sex scenes are terrible, yes, but those are the ones with Barry Manilow in the background or celestial rose petals falling into a virgin pond out of virtually nowhere.
However, sometimes the planets align, the gods smile upon you, the earth opens up and lo! and behold, there stands a sex scene that etches itself indelibly into your mind; a scene that should be preserved and passed onto posterity. Family jewels. Such a miracle unveiled itself to me yesterday.
Bruce Almighty, all-in-all a poor movie, somewhere around C, but when Jim Carrey (sp?) wields the power of the God, holy hell, things will happen. Of course, he indulges in the pusillanimous whims that any and all of us would fall subject to should we be vested with power unlimited, but it's when the groping hand of the Lord makes its way into the bedroom that my heart stops beating.
How can anyone resist the use of omnipotence to send wave after wave of orgasmic bliss over a girl in the adjacent room, power manifested through contorted face and fingers along with the breathless droning chant of "pleasurepleasurepleasurepleasurepleasure." Good god, the things Carrey did with his face alone validated the $6 vacuum in my wallet. Then, he manages to top himself...when she emerges disheveled and kindled from the bathroom, she pounces upon him, but in turn is subjected to a full-on body slam! Not a namby-pamby, mischievously-drop-her-onto-the-bed thing, but an inverting body slam, WWF style!
Jeezus...it was such a wonderful sex scene...right up on par with the Six String Samurai's apathetic reaction to a post-apocalyptic cheerleading whore. Brendan and I, the two most prominent movie critics featured in this entry, agree that both are extremely entertaining, absolutely necessary, and should be viewed immediately by everybody....well, he didn't say that. I did.
2003-02-11 22:01:00
I was having a conversation with the Matts today (Fricano and Bishop) and I struck upon a potentially lucrative venture that will in a single swoop immortalize the common dead and brighten up some of those dreary, cookie-cutter cemetaries with no personality like Oaklawn.
Now, everyone is afraid of the ignominy of death; you're gone and in a generation or two you are lucky if people even remember your name. As if human memory weren't short enough, those who are buried are lumped in with 20,000 other stiffs without so much as a unique headstone to grace their graves. No, all they get is the same bland plastic floral arrangement, dependant upon their family's monthly deposits or whatever.
To take care of these problems, I propose this; instead of bobbleheads and teddy bears on tombstones to give them personality, how much more memorable would it be to have a cage hung from a small, around 3 foot, pole on their gravesites, and in that cage a bird of some sort? Not only that, but the kind of bird could somehow reflect upon the temperament of the deceased. The ornery would get macaws, the pompous could get cockatoos, the couple killed in a car wreck could get lovebirds, et cetera. And if they are willing to go that little extra mile (for people are always trying to show off the size of their wallets, especially in that final display of arrogance that are funerals), they could have a loquacious bird placed in the cage.
But not just any babbling birdy, mind you. Oh no. These people want to be ETERNAL! To help them out in their quests of self-preservation, each and every one of these feathered ghouls would have one and only one saying memorized, and that one saying would be the last words of their respective corpses. Nowadays, you'll step right over a plot without a second thought, but I guarantee you that should you walk by a sepulcher and a cockatiel croaks at you "Not those pills, the green ones, you fool!" or "OK, now hold the ladder steady, honey. I'm counting on you," you'll at least stop and calculate how old the person was when he died, if for no other reason than to check and affirm to yourself that you are old and wise enough that such a boneheaded mistake is surely beneath one of your maturity.
Of course, this wouldn't work in Arlington Nat'l Cemetery, or any graves with mass amounts of soldiers in them, because the avian imitations of screams, gargles, and death rattles would all sort of run together. A quick stroll through such a graveyard would leave your ears ringing with "MOMMY!"s and "Oh my god!!!!" and that would defeat the whole purpose of originality.
I can assure you of one thing, though. The graves of the really perverted killers and their victims would become far more popular: "No Josh, I already said I don't wanna see the inside of your waterbed."
2002-12-31 23:09:00
Goddamit, I have the urge to write this journal in Korean, but I know that none of your computers are geared for decoding it, and all you will get is a long string of symbols and gibberish. Oh well. English will do for now.
I'm not usually the holiday-festive type, nor am I the kind who usually goes out of his way to wish others well, but hell, it's winter break, the next best thing to summer, so I will go out on a limb.
새해복 많이 받으세요....damn, couldn't restrain myself. Enjoy your holiday. Go out and do something somewhat entertaining. Experience what will be a story that you can tell your friends for months to come, and spice everyone elses' life up for the five minutes that it takes to recount an hour of bliss. Jesus, school gets in the way of a lot of things. Take advantage of this period of freedom. It will make for some kickass memories in the long run.
2002-12-20 00:40:00
Subcultures seem to be the trendy thing to do. I should get in on that. But if I decide to do so, what subculture defines me as a person?
I could do anime, but it bores me, so that's immediately out. Guess I will miss out on the Hentai. Ah well.
P'raps I could be one of those people that collects all sorts of Nazi paraphanelia..."An embroidered handkerchief owned by an SS soldier?!? For only $700?!? Holy hell!" Too bad I'm not rich enough to splurge on that, or else I would be able to line my walls with official china of the Third Reich.
Oh, oh, oh, I could be one of those alien/government/corporate conspiracy geeks who haunts discussion boards at 3 in the morning! Grey aliens with wrap around eyes, the dynamics of vampirism, and the what requisite fuel supply of Hell would be if Satan ran a diesel engine.
God, there are so many to choose from. Hopefully, I will decide soon before something momentous happens. With my luck, as soon as I choose one a spaceship will teleport the oceans to Alpha Centauri or dormant Neo Nazi factions in South America will conquer half the globe. Then, I will have neither the background knowledge nor the history to look "cool" and "in." Nah, I'll look like a poser that jumped onto the bandwagon. I gotta catch this early if I am gonna be one of the 1337.
2002-12-13 23:54:00 Quid quaero? Quo requiro?
Omnia die labentia, invenio me vertens sententia mea. Odii quos olim amaret; sed ne possum invenire alios quibus relictos substituam. In orbe omnii quondam beati fera ruebant nemoque stebit ut agminem rejunuveret.
Fortasse nimis diiudico acriter...omnia cognoscerunt intelleguntque nemo sine menda esset, sed quid facturus est? Compromittere mentem non possum aut ne solus habitebo (insanus essem sed eremita non sum)... Unus poeta dixit:
Odi et amo. Quare id faciam fortasse requiris.
Nescio, sed fieri sentio, et excrucior.
et etiam sensi hoc ego. Cupio tantum consulatium habeat. Sine aquam ardeor. Sine balsamum prurio. Amittans omnia, non consequor ne se ne mihi moratos.
2002-11-29 00:25:00
Updated
2002-11-25 22:51:00
I have never found a shark's tooth. Nor have I ever seen a shooting star. I am prolly the only guy I know who has never ordered something off a catalog, expecting a box with a ninja star to come in six weeks.
Hell, all I need now is my father to start slappin' me around as he takes lewd photos of the dog, and for people at school to ressurect the ol' racial slurs from kindergarden and I will have a plausible excuse for filleting a good half-dozen of my coworkers in the forseeable future.
2002-11-22 22:25:00
Winter. Overly windy. Though I'm not too sure about how I feel concerning the darkness and its habit of coming a lil' earlier this time of year, I do like how every road in Jacksonville is free of cars come 8PM. In summertime, I usually have to wait until 11 or so for all the people to go in and leave everything to me. Plus, the coldness-ness is an excellent excuse to wear my clothes. People give me odd looks when I have the gloves, coat, and tie in 80 degree weather. I'll teach them not to stare....
Working on something, something, I am...
2002-10-17 20:02:00 Teeter-totter
If there is a god, he must be extremely partial towards balance. That, or extremely uncreative and works by the same pattern constantly.
How else does this work? A hell of a week, punctuated with final exams and characterized by a schedule that takes the school day and manages to make it seem somewhere around 12 hours long, gets capped off with an asskickin' event like the GWAR concert. Arright, fair enough. That one night of blood, urine, drunks, and oysters more than compensated for the monotony that I had to put up with for five days previous. I'm willing to write that day off.
One could only hope that GWAR was merely the beginning of a period of joy and revelry, but it pretty much ends at 3 o'clock the next day, when I return home. Slow weekend, but no complaints. I needed the sleep. Then this school week rolls about.
Geniuses at our school decided to give themes to every day and encourage people to dress up in accordance with the stupidity of the day, so we have people in briefs and tights pretending to be superheroes as well as lazy bums rolling out of bed and attending, fully into the swing of the grungy "Pajama Day." I can live with that. Sorta.
Until I remember this is a whole week that I need to put up with assholes frolicking about in the hallways, pretending that they can fly in order to make their Superman towel-cape billow and complete the image of idiocity. Seems my happiness in inversely proportional to the number of halfwits near me.
And lo! didst the Lord look upon the town of Jackson and didst pass his hand over the realm; and a great lamentation dist arise from the people, for the Lord hath struck down the firstborn's automobile. Damnation.
One can only hope that the see-sawing god of weekends is fair (or has a vendetta against the god of other days and will act against him out of spite) and makes this one pay me back in spades for the unnecessary aggravation that was compiled with the requirement of getting up far to early in the A.M daily. Brain-dead from all of the fab'lous events that I was subjected to, my stock of ideas is woefully low. If you wanna help me out, gimme a ring. If you don't know my number, there is a reason behind that...I wouldn't consider doing something with you anyway. If you belong to the former group, well....I already told you what to do. Damn. I'm giving up while I'm ahead and going to say my prayers. Hope the gods smile upon me and shower me with meaning and happiness. Or sleep.
2002-10-11 23:12:00 damn....
I used to avoid LiveJournal because I felt it was too much like online voyeurism, and any freak with access to the local library could peep into your life. That revulsion was dispelled when I read some of my friends' journals, but the reason remained.
Then I created my own account, and I promised myself that I would not fall prey to the same exhibitionism that everyone else used it for, and here, on this third entry, I have already violated that and esposed myself before the world with a digital timetable of my day.
Now I tell myself that I can afford to indulge every once in a while and write a serious entry as long as I do no write in earnest consistently.
One by one my morals are being laid to waste, and with them all of my convictions. Soon I shall have none left. I have the urge to go to American Eagle and try on turtlenecks.
2002-10-11 22:26:00 Immortal....corrupter!
Wow, yesterday was most certainly a day that makes it worth it to get up every morning and play this ridiculous game day after day after day. The sort of day where the roulette pays off, the gods smile upon you, and everything, regardless of triviality, seems to have and underlying import that imbues it with a delicious quality you cannot ignore.
It was the sort of day that makes me want to give up my life and become an Epicurian beach bum, forsaking everything except that which is entertaining...but that won't do. The materialist in me realizes that everything I did is somehow dependant upon money, and beach bums are prone to wasting all of that upon drink and obnoxious Hawaiian shirts, so there goes that idea.
I would need money to be witness to the awesome GWAR show, unless I wanted to risk the gargantuan bouncers grinding me into protein pills. No doubt that they could...yesterday I realized that biceps 4 feet around are nothing to be trifled with, but I digress. The show was amazing, with the fire blowing, the dismemberments, the glittering gore arcing towards the ceiling and raining down upon the teeming mass of fanatics. The Mexican GWARdian Angel acting as every drunk's personal Memnon, enticing him to do reckless things like jump off the second floor in order to inform a redhead that he would like nothing better than to lick her nipples...the beastial beauty of Beefcake the Mighty's goat-boots...it's a pity that the good things in life always have a price.
Even the subsequent trip to Middleburg, driving home the plastered fool who had been lulled by the Siren's song of the Mexican, was not without its worth. Left driving Brendan's car Tiamat, following the Saturn of the drunk, driven by newly-met Danny and accompanied by Matt, the 2 hour trip should by all accounts have been horrid. Yet, it provided a welcome opportunity for conversation with my passenger as well as a wonderful change in scenery that offered itself as a topic whenever the inspirational font of our discussion ran low. I'm sure the trip would have been worse had we had the vomiting dependant in our vehicle.
Seeing the state of the inebriated man and the fear that one day I will be in such a helpless position sometimes makes me want to give up the vice of liquor and live my life dry...but the Epicurian again emerges and, beguiling the rest of me with promises of responsibility and caution, assuades my better judgement and convinces my homunculus that such a drastic decision only be enforced should I actually be in that condition one day.
Thankfully, two things came and brought the evening to new heights after our little field trip. The bright orange sign of Village Inn was there with open arms and lots of pie to placate us after the discovery that KFC no longer carries cobbler, and we feasted upon the all the sticky sweetness that allows itself to be contained within a crust (if you are ever there, get the pecan pie. Mellow, unassuming, and appropriately mild, it easily beats any of its saccharine cousins from Publix or Winn-Dixie). Then everyone's hero Connor entered the scene bearing wonderful oysters which were hastily devoured on the beach at 3 AM. Two of my best friends, the just-met acquaintance Danny, the shore in the dead of night, and six hour-old steamed shellfish were the ingredients of a divine concoction, polished off with cinnamon toast at Connor's, and several hours later, eggs at Brendan's.
There are only several times that I can honestly say I wish I could freeze. Usually content to observe my life and laugh at the occurrences, these such moments are witness to me being possess with the rare spirit of connection with the world about me and the people I am with. It wasn't even 24 hours ago that I was in DV8, screaming along with hundreds of others, barely 14 hours since I sat and filled myself with an apple pie, and 12 since I lay upon Brendan's floor eating Nutter Butters(R) and staring at the ceiling fan, and yet they stay with me as if they had been etched into the backs of my eyes. It would only take a few fingers for me to enumerate the occasions with which I enjoyed life to such an extent, and my inability to affect these moments to my own design leaves me with feelings of both impotence and a gambler's desire to throw it all out there and keep rousing myself from blessed sleep in the hopes that that particular day will have one such instant. Nothing would make me happier than if I had the ability to record my life at these times in such an entirety and perfection that they would be indistinguishable from the events themselves, but regardless of all my wishing and hoping, the gems in my life always end, and leave me grasping at their fading silhouettes.
If only clocks could stop.
2002-10-08 20:33:00 Pretentious? Me?!? Never!!!
Stealing the idea from Brendan's LJ, I put this survey up, supplied by the good people at God-Knows-Where. According to them, the following table represents yours truly:
DisorderRatingParanoid:ModerateSchizoid:ModerateSchizotypal:ModerateAntisocial:HighBorderline:LowHistrionic:HighNarcissistic:HighAvoidant:LowDependent:LowObsessive-Compulsive:Low
-- Click Here To Take The Test --
Now, that seems somewhat off-kilter to me. I don't know why the hell they would think that I am histrionic and narcissistic. In fact, that antisocial bit doesn't ring true either. Frankly, I find the idea offensive. If people are so wrapped up in their aimless lives that they fail to recognize the inescapable aura which graces my persona, then they ought to be put into a situation in society where they are more useful than their current nine-five white collar jobs. Something where they can give back to those in the community who really matter. Mining sulphur from Mt. St Helen or spit polishing the jet intakes of the private airplanes of the social elite. B'cause if they are that blind, they obviously can't be assisting their fellow man in their present situation...
Narcissistic, faugh.
2002-10-07 16:44:00 Where to start....
Having difficulty beginning this thing, I believe I shall take the sissy way out and just put up a few pictures that I have drawn over the past few days. But these aren't just any pictures. Every day this god-forsaken month, I have pledged to draw at one pencil-on-paper doodle that somehow reflects the unholy aspect of the holiday of Halloween, which was replaced by ghosts and jack-o-lanterns and orange Christmas lights strewn over homes. How much fun would it have been to go out on All Hallow's Eve, the most wicked day of the year when hellspawn and devilkin were supposed to be at their peak of power?
A lot better than any holiday associated with peanut butter logs, that's for sure. So here I am doing my part to twist back into misshape what has the potential to be one of the most lovely days of the year. It's about time people stopped worrying about Arabs with AKs and pickpockets out for their wallets. All of that is trivial. There is something more amusing that they could fret over...their SOULS, for God's sake, their souls! Damn, I wish we had superstitious peasants running about crossing themselves at bridges and throwing salt at magpies. If you lose a few hundreds bucks, be glad you retained your immortal soul, and beware the witch of the woods!
Hmm..a correction. Though I said "every day," what I truly meant was "every school day." I cannot find the time on weekends to draw, most of the time, and if I'm going to be up and about at 9 in the AM, I most certainly will not spend my time doing busy work or listening to lectures. And since this LiveJournal had a late start, the first 4 days go up today.
For some reason, the internet feels compelled to create giant black bands on my picturenesses. I will try and correct that. Just not now.
2002-10-06 22:49:00 Inception
For a long whiles, I had hoped to avoid the clutches of livejournal, refusing be drawn into its cultish horde of followers, but the desire to have a cool lil' logo by my name when I post on a friend's page overcame any inhibitions I might have initially held, and there wasn't a chance in hell that I was going to miss out on some of the great stuff that happens in some of these journals. A prime example would be the intellectuallly stimulating cop-cock discussion that Connor's was witness to. I cannot allow such gems to remain unseen by myself.
P'raps I may grow to like this thing and post in it regularly. Or p'raps I will ignore it. Only time can tell.