the emperor still wears no clothes!!!!
watched Requiem for a Dream last night.
it made me fucking sick.
that movie is so disturbing.
i LOVE it, but it's so disturbing.
aronofsky is amazing.
slept fairly soundly. i guess robyn is used to my snoring.
run thrus, then EASTER WEEKEND with the family, the drving home. maybe with utsav or cat with me, i dunno.
WENT TO THE BAR with Drew and John (Psycho 3000) night before last!! oh man, what a great experience. i fucking LOVE those guys. here's some conversation:
drew: “John said he was going to hit me with a golf club if I didn’t give him ten bucks"
John: (smiles)
Jp: (shocked at animalistic display of violence) “What? For what?!”
Drew: “I owed him ten bucks.”
John: “Drew was acting weird. He had a hundred and wouldn’t break it. Even Adnan agreed with my action.”
Drew: “He was going to smash my fishtank!”
John: “I was going to smash his fishtank. Well, I wasn’t really going to…”
JP: “A threat is only a threat if you really mean to do it.”
john: "Drew has a new household friend."
drew: (smiles)
Jp: "What? Other than the goldfish?"
John: "Yeah. He's got a parakeet."
drew: "His name is George."
John: "Washington."
JP: "Why didn't you tell me this before, Drew?"
(John gets up to go to bathroom)
Drew: "Well... there's been some insinuation..."
JP: "Insinuation? What insinuation?"
Drew: "If you don't know, then you don't know."
jp: “I had a friend one time who secretly liked to let the dog lick his nuts. And one time, he bet my friend Marcus five bucks to go into the dog’s doghouse and let it lick his nuts. And Marcus did it, and got the five dollars.”
Drew: “wow” (laughs)
Jp: “are you making that parakeet lick your nuts?”
Drew: (becomes serious, of a sudden)… (thinks)… “Well they really don’t have much of a tongue.”
Jp: (blows smoke into his beer glass, and puts his hand on top, trapping it.)
John: “JP, you’re stupid.”
Drew: “There’s no such thing as stupid.”
John: “Oh, there’s stupid.” (laughs)
Drew: “Stupid is just a concept, man. Like nothing is just a concept.”
John: “Drew-“
Drew: “The only thing there is, is dharma.”
JP: “Going Buddhist on us, Drew?”
Drew: “I’m going hindu…Buddhist…”
JP: “And, actually, it’s pronounced thurma.”
John: “Thurma and Greg.”
JP: (holds cigarette in mouth and takes a drink of beer at the same time).
Drew: “You are not cool enough to do that, JP.”
JP: “Oh, I’m cool enough. I just did it.”
John: “How does that taste?”
JP: (makes face) “…gross. My beer tastes like cigarette smoke. Or my smoke tastes like beer. Either way it’s nasty.”
Listen to the Mars Volta while stoned. Especially to track 3 on Deloused in the Comatorium: Roulette Dares (This is the Haunt of). Hear the drums spitting angrily in the background? Hear when the keyboards first come in, with all the fury of a chalkboard scratch?
who reads this shit anymore?
isn't it amzing that EVERY fucking low level functionary on the internet has a fucking journal? and that you can read htem all, as far back as you want, about anything that you want. And you know they write down everything that fucking happens. jesus. fucking. christ.
but we've all been bad.
haven't we?
i mean, i fucking slept with abi.
for the love of god.
who can blame anybody
for
anything
really?
finally.
i wrote a new poem.
more like a pr-oem.
but it's the first in a while. broke the drought.
the drought.
parched.
slaked.
word thirst.
do you ever think about all the times you've gotten laid and it just kind of... is a blur? lines fuse across time, memory and then fantasy and reality and past and present all sort of intermingle... because women feel like women, there's differences. but slight. they're all soft, some talk to you, some like to whisper to you or harangue you even or just talk... some just gape at you, kind of a "i can't believe you're doing this to me" look which is really quite great, but so unreal. so absolutely unreal. it's hilarious.
and then some just close their eyes and seem to really enjoy it.
and one i know... shit i can't even remember it anymore. two years and maybe a thousand or more encounters, and i can't remember it.
mind blur fuzz memory wake.
and the sounds they make:
some gentle grunts, some pleading, happy, content sighs, or little shrieks or moans. jesus, fuck.
but tha'ts not even counting desire.
everytime i look at a woman, if she's attractive, i can just imagine the joy in getting between her legs -- fuck, but nothing comes close to reality. nothing comes close to clasping her hips in your hands or nibbling on her earlobe or soft caresses afterwards. job well done, soldier.
you can't help but want to rank them.
but memory is too shoddy. it's terrible.
untrustworthy.
mein gott im himmel...
it made me fucking sick.
that movie is so disturbing.
i LOVE it, but it's so disturbing.
aronofsky is amazing.
slept fairly soundly. i guess robyn is used to my snoring.
run thrus, then EASTER WEEKEND with the family, the drving home. maybe with utsav or cat with me, i dunno.
WENT TO THE BAR with Drew and John (Psycho 3000) night before last!! oh man, what a great experience. i fucking LOVE those guys. here's some conversation:
drew: “John said he was going to hit me with a golf club if I didn’t give him ten bucks"
John: (smiles)
Jp: (shocked at animalistic display of violence) “What? For what?!”
Drew: “I owed him ten bucks.”
John: “Drew was acting weird. He had a hundred and wouldn’t break it. Even Adnan agreed with my action.”
Drew: “He was going to smash my fishtank!”
John: “I was going to smash his fishtank. Well, I wasn’t really going to…”
JP: “A threat is only a threat if you really mean to do it.”
john: "Drew has a new household friend."
drew: (smiles)
Jp: "What? Other than the goldfish?"
John: "Yeah. He's got a parakeet."
drew: "His name is George."
John: "Washington."
JP: "Why didn't you tell me this before, Drew?"
(John gets up to go to bathroom)
Drew: "Well... there's been some insinuation..."
JP: "Insinuation? What insinuation?"
Drew: "If you don't know, then you don't know."
jp: “I had a friend one time who secretly liked to let the dog lick his nuts. And one time, he bet my friend Marcus five bucks to go into the dog’s doghouse and let it lick his nuts. And Marcus did it, and got the five dollars.”
Drew: “wow” (laughs)
Jp: “are you making that parakeet lick your nuts?”
Drew: (becomes serious, of a sudden)… (thinks)… “Well they really don’t have much of a tongue.”
Jp: (blows smoke into his beer glass, and puts his hand on top, trapping it.)
John: “JP, you’re stupid.”
Drew: “There’s no such thing as stupid.”
John: “Oh, there’s stupid.” (laughs)
Drew: “Stupid is just a concept, man. Like nothing is just a concept.”
John: “Drew-“
Drew: “The only thing there is, is dharma.”
JP: “Going Buddhist on us, Drew?”
Drew: “I’m going hindu…Buddhist…”
JP: “And, actually, it’s pronounced thurma.”
John: “Thurma and Greg.”
JP: (holds cigarette in mouth and takes a drink of beer at the same time).
Drew: “You are not cool enough to do that, JP.”
JP: “Oh, I’m cool enough. I just did it.”
John: “How does that taste?”
JP: (makes face) “…gross. My beer tastes like cigarette smoke. Or my smoke tastes like beer. Either way it’s nasty.”
Listen to the Mars Volta while stoned. Especially to track 3 on Deloused in the Comatorium: Roulette Dares (This is the Haunt of). Hear the drums spitting angrily in the background? Hear when the keyboards first come in, with all the fury of a chalkboard scratch?
who reads this shit anymore?
isn't it amzing that EVERY fucking low level functionary on the internet has a fucking journal? and that you can read htem all, as far back as you want, about anything that you want. And you know they write down everything that fucking happens. jesus. fucking. christ.
but we've all been bad.
haven't we?
i mean, i fucking slept with abi.
for the love of god.
who can blame anybody
for
anything
really?
finally.
i wrote a new poem.
more like a pr-oem.
but it's the first in a while. broke the drought.
the drought.
parched.
slaked.
word thirst.
do you ever think about all the times you've gotten laid and it just kind of... is a blur? lines fuse across time, memory and then fantasy and reality and past and present all sort of intermingle... because women feel like women, there's differences. but slight. they're all soft, some talk to you, some like to whisper to you or harangue you even or just talk... some just gape at you, kind of a "i can't believe you're doing this to me" look which is really quite great, but so unreal. so absolutely unreal. it's hilarious.
and then some just close their eyes and seem to really enjoy it.
and one i know... shit i can't even remember it anymore. two years and maybe a thousand or more encounters, and i can't remember it.
mind blur fuzz memory wake.
and the sounds they make:
some gentle grunts, some pleading, happy, content sighs, or little shrieks or moans. jesus, fuck.
but tha'ts not even counting desire.
everytime i look at a woman, if she's attractive, i can just imagine the joy in getting between her legs -- fuck, but nothing comes close to reality. nothing comes close to clasping her hips in your hands or nibbling on her earlobe or soft caresses afterwards. job well done, soldier.
you can't help but want to rank them.
but memory is too shoddy. it's terrible.
untrustworthy.
mein gott im himmel...