Last night I pulled a small doll out of my throat and it had me wondering...what's going on here. It was a ragady thing with a proper red skirt and pigtails, a very normal looking doll, but it's eyes had been replaced with smooth onyx disks that flashed in irregular patterns when held to light. I immediatly realised there was no immediate chance in deciphering the patterns of lights, though there was an indesputable sequence, so I pulled up a chair and made two vodka tonics. She drank hers like a lady possesing class and I as well. After the drinks she spoke a few words then, thanking me, got up and abruptly left the house, locking the door behind her. I didn't even have to remind her. And me, I poured another drink to sooth the tear in my throat. When I laughed the flaps purred in the acrid night, always unanswered.

Ahhhhh fuck. I got nothing to say. Where have I been? Living life. Drinking, fighting, fucking, dying. Hmmmmm. Let's see, highlights...
-Got in another fight, this time pulling out some matrix-style reflex moves. I'm starting to think that I should do something productive with my reflexes...insteed of wasting them. Maybe...JuiJitsu.
-Blew an insane amount of money on dvds...All Family Guys, Futuramas, Mr. Shows, etc. etc.
-Trick or treating with my little brother in Indiana...hanging out with my NEW little brother at the penny arcade and lasertag exstravaganza.
-Christ I don't remember...

Right now I'm drinking MD 20/20 and watching Run Ronnie Run. Good movie featuring one of my favorite lines..."what are you gonna do now? Go to the faggot store and pick up a new mustache?" I'm starting to come to the conclusion that I work for God and that the end of the world is slated for April 4, 2004. I better hone up on my JuiJitsu now before the fight to the end with the hoardes of the undead. I must train...


NEXT NIGHT
Breakfast...2 steak taco supremes
Lunch...Ramen noodles (stolen) and a candy bar
Dinner...3 double cheeseburgers (no onions) value fry, 2 bottles of Strawberry Hill Boones Farm (wine, idiot)

Tonight's entertainment...Bill and Ted's Excellent Journey and Bogus Adventure.

Your entertainment...80's slang.
Tubular, bodacious, gnarly, rad (ical), heinous, bitchin', dude, awesome (still apt) ummmmm, SAN DIMAS HIGH SCHOOL FOOTBALL RULES! WOOOO!

Also, I just read in the paper about my best friend from Jr. High. Apparently he's in the penn for rolling some 12 year old and taking his Halloween candy, then hitting 2 people with his car, dragging them a block. Me and him where the 'quiet kids'. What's in store for me?...

That was totally non, non non, non non non heinous. You ugly red source of all evil!

So, I go to a halloween party last night and nearly get beaten by an unruly mob.

First I watched the world series, which the Yankees lost, heh, and downed a bottle of vodka straight. I was dressed as Elwood Blues, and everyone kept saying, oh, nice costume, Men in Black? No no wait, your an agent. No, a reservoir dog. Motherfuckers had seen Reservoir Dogs but not the Blues Brothers. As the night goes on I go to the basement with my ex to get some action. Her bed is sorrounded by sheets and shit so you can't see in, but there is 30+ people surrounding it as well. As we get into it some asshole keeps sticking his head into the sheets. I tell him to get the fuck out. The ex says, "That's Joe, he's crazy, don't mess with him." "Fuck Joe." I say, I sit up and say "Come here Joe." He leans over and I grab his beer and throw it across the room, hitting another large man. "Fetch asshole." Then Joe proceeds to punch me in the face. Poeple rush over and pull him off. I'm laughing at him as they drag him upstairs, where he is yelling and throwing shit saying, "I'm gonna kill that motherfucker!" My friend Allen is up there too. "You mess with him pal, and I'm all over you." "Then we'll be all over you." Says all the other large men in attendance. "So I'll be fighting 20 dudes...so be it." But it never happens, they make Joe go home but the ex is no longer in the mood. "Why do you have to be such an asshole?" She says, but if you ask me he just needed some manners. Anyway, Allen passes out under the ping-pong table, and I go to bed with chapstick rolled up in my hand like a fistpack. Later today she calls me and says that the girl dressed up like cat-girl says I pushed her down in the basement and I tried to pick a fight with some other big goon. I don't remember that shit. Why, because it didn't happen. Well, atleast I never pushed cat-girl. Oh, shit, well, I'm off to work. See-ya!

Did you know that if you have a common cold, and you only eat about once every two days and never sleep and drink every night, your cold will never die?

LISTEN! DON'T SHIT IN MY MOUTH AND CALL IT A SUNDEA! BESIDES I DON'T COME DOWN TO WHERE YOU WORK AND SLAP THE DICK OUT OF YOUR MOUTH!

Sorry, that was some exerts from the Mr. Show dvd I just bought. So where have I been? Deathly ill. My ears are clogged on top of that, which is severely fucking up my equilibrium. The bad thing is when I go to work everyone things I'm drunk, which admittadly sometimes I am. The good thing, it only takes two drinks to get me loaded. Like now.

Anywho, I'm about to be layed off, I think. So, I'm celebrating, UNEMPLOYEMENT HERE I COME.

Oh, by the way, my ex left me because of something she read while nosily spying on my profile on this site. So, in honor of her, hi Beth. Fuck you. Bye.

Where's my Rushmore?

I got out of the shower and jerked off. Then I poured a large glass of ice water, downed it. A night of hard drinking had left me tapped dry. My skin was pulled tight against my ribs. I poured another and went outside with a long thin cigar and a book. 100 Fiendish Little Frightmares. $4.95. I opened the book. A man was waiting for a train, an angry man. Voices were spitting wet black curses to mankind. I liked that man. I heard a noise and looked up. A wasp flew head on into my satalite dish. It made a soft smack. It did it again. Just then a girl came into view. She was walking a dog along the river. She had blue pajama bottoms, a black shirt and short black hair. She looked at me and I looked back. She smiled. She looked good. The dog was black and white and quite small, like Wishbone. He ran, eager to get nowhere, pulling on the leash, making spirals. The girl looked away. I continued staring, watching that ass shake as the dog continued fighting with that leash. The girl looked again but there was something in her eyes this time. I knew what she was thinking. "Why does that guy keep staring at me?" Her lips streched at the ends. She was nervous. She kept walking as a small girl ran up to her. "Racheal!" She said and smiled. They talked and laughed for a bit and Racheal turned back around, making for home. She flashed a quick glance and started walking faster...then she was gone. Smack. The wasp was still at it. I took a long drag from my cigar and threw it over the edge of the balcony. There was a rustle then. A loud cracking and more rustles. A large oak was moving from the edge of the brown water. It was coming at me. 'This is it' I think to myself and take a gulp of ice water. The tree snaps and cracks and continues coming. 'I wonder why noone else can hear this' I think. The tree reaches out a long gnarled branch and rests it on the edge of the balcony. There's a knot on the third knuckle I note. The tree leans in and whispers. "There's something wrong with you Mr. Peck." Inside the glass door the cat, Pestilence, is laughing like a madman. "Life can be beautiful if you let it." I said to the tree. It smiled and I smiled. It continued being a tree.

Her naked body lay unconcious on my lepoard print bed. I could see her smooth ass from where I lay, hidden, behind my dirty clothes baskets in my closet. I had been slamming vodka 7s and straight Jack Daniels all night. When she passed out during Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas I thought it would be funny to hide in the shadows and throw things at her disoriented form. I was right. I laughed heartily to myself. I screeched loudly like a Velociraptor and threw a dirty sock. I laughed. She snored. Soon piles of dirty linen flecked her alabastor hulk. I screeched in delight, but I knew she was too far gone to feal them. I picked up a 25 pound wait and liifted it over my head. From far away I heard a voice. "No, Matt. That will kill her." I put it down and smirked. I climbed out of the closet and walked into the living room. In the hallway I realised I was nude. I passed a sleeping girl on the couch though I couldn't quite remember who she was. I made my way to the fridge and made myself a drink. I ate three shrimp and went back to my room. She snored like a wildebeast. I took a drink and looked at the floor. I was wearing one sock. The other foot stood on a slice of pinneapple pizza. I found a spoiled Phillie sticking out from under the bed, next to some porn mags, broken statues of roman warriors and .22 caliber bullets. I lit the cigar and sat down next to the girl. I knew the genius was there, but what to do with it? I looked at my oak desk, to the dozens of unfinished works of cognizant fiction. I bit my lip and drew blood. The sun was coming up...I had another drink.

Alexis is coming to see me next month. I can't wait. A trip from RxQueen would top it off. Perhaps it would be too much. I'm up to a challenge. Though I've decided not to be a suicideboy. There's noone to rake my pictures. And besides, then I'd lose my mysteriousness, and to me...that would be a crime. Now, back to my whiskey.

Chopan is the sound. The drink of the night is Orloff vodka. Wrote a brilliant story I'm going to try to publish. I'm thinking about being a suicideboy. Who wants to see my dick? Bach is it now.

I've cancelled my renewal to suicidegirls. My last day is 12/07. Still a good way away. But why? Because this site, as well as a number of other things, have aided in my becoming your average hum-drum American bitch. I wake up, go to work, come home, watch t.v. or play on the computer. My writing has taken a drastic dip in quantity, I never leave the house, I no longer go for walks, I haven't taken a road just to see where it goes in a long time. So, realising this, I've canceled my renewal, threw my cable boxes in the river (no I'm not being sarcastic, I'm dramatic like that.) and I'm pawning my t.v. and vcr tomorrow. Actually in the process, I've given almost half of what I own to the Goodwill. I could go into how terribly fake internet relationships are and how they eventually lead people into becoming pathetic self-dilluted saps, but what's the point? After all, I'm still writing journals aren't I? Not to mention I make an awful philosopher, so I'll spare all of you. Just wanted to cue everyone in...Like I was saying about pathetic self-dillusion. Anyway, I'm gonna miss Bombshellbetty.

So I go to the bar last night and it ends up me and Allen closing down the bar. At the end of the night, it's just me and him and the bartender lady. She knows us good enough now we answer the phone for her when she goes to the can. That's a drinkin' problem. Anyway, the bartender starts giving me free drinks. The result is an all out whiskey taste test. I did shots of every whiskey she had. Then, we went to Marsh where I puked all over the floor. Allen had to drag me home. Somehow, I woke up in total darkness. I thought, well, that's it...I'm dead. I reached up to feal if I'd been buried in a plush coffin, instead I hit a toilet bowl. After a while I deduced I was in my bathroom. Bless that Allen. Then I pass out again. I woke up today by a phone call. It was my girlfriend. She said she was coming over. When she did she had all my stuff. She said she was leaving me cause she found out I was sleeping with another girl before we even started going out again. Unless, she opted, I wished to explain. Carefull on the way out, I said, the step light is out. Then I reitterated. Get the fuck out. So, here I am, single, hungover, and well, the perfect country western song. Welcome to the life of Eyeballkid.