Thieves broke into my car last night and stole my stereo, and they left the personnel files that I need to complete performance evaluations.

THANKS ASSHOLES - TWICE







That's it, I'm buying a crossbow.

DEATH IN T MINUS 50 MINUTES



WTF? still alive...

In lieu of a journal entry that details what I did yesterday, and with whom, or what places were found through a healthy mix of happenstance, wanderlust, and gasoline, or cryptic phrases not unlike the one that I began typing just moments ago and am continuing to type, right now, I bring to you Orvell and Tucket's stream of consciousness lawn jockey refugee camp for the pansexually impossible.

... uh, fuck that. Instead I think I'll get off of the computer and pick up my guitar.

I really wish someone would make this game.

some kind of solitude is measured out in you
you think you know it but you haven't got a clue

One of these warm summer nights I'm going to lay on my back in a field of fireflies and chase the fox in the milky way. Let the crickets and the tree tops weave a choral accouchement for my soul. Whispers, lullabies, constellations, ionizing grains of mercurian shore, kissing the sun's reflection in a martian mirror, a moon that never rises. And with heaviness I will watch the sun leech night's dye topaz. Diamond thief.

I never did have a backstroke that I was proud of, but on the silky 'A' ring of Saturn I glide with pluterperfect grace. It is from there that I will watch our resident Dyeus slip quietly into an undersea tomb. The age of somnolence, a golden era of cryptkeepers and interstellar meridian surfers. Metempsychotics.

I am an only child. I am a fool. I drink too much. I need to be touched. I am both excited and terrified to go back to school. I appreciate my friends more than they know.

I experienced an interruption in my internet service last week. Letting a few days pass I then sent dispatch to the Comcastinistas to alert them of their folly. Poor bastards, apparently Comcastinople exists within a primitive linear time continuum. FOOLS. Can't they see the future that exists past the quivering platinum CGI time portal? The one in which rollerskating leprechauns gloryhole rainbows of cash and fistfuck my direct deposit account? (Later that evening in the future I am also invited to play a game with the solid gold dancers in which I spank their asses to see whose can hold my hand print the longest. I know, it’s gonna be so sweet!) Or even further into the future when they are bracing their decrepit hip bone with their one good arm while reaching out a shaky prosthetic claw to remove a yellowed leprous toe nail and then violently catapulting their foreheads against the porcelain toilet basin (with a squishy *thwop* like drop kicking a rotten pumpkin) after their right knee shatters from slipping in their own incontinence?

Don't they see that we all eventually die and that the pursuit and exchange of symbolic and material goods will never do anything to prevent this?





DON'T PANIC, all is well! …and exhale. I forgave them their errors and (relieved) they credited fifty dollars to my account all the while begging for a swift and merciful death. I then took pity and bestowed my commiseration on their accursed souls for their ignorance was no fault of their own. Cohabiting eternity from within the leathery wombs of their slave masters, having to gnaw on ethernet cables and cook rubber band soup for sustenance; that would break any soul.

I too have once struggled to free myself from the bondage of my reptilian overlords....






MORALE: I love each and every one of you little mongrels but I may not be around much this summer, so pardon my lack of updates.

I rode up Mt. Tabor yesterday. Not much of a mountain but hey, it's uphill, it's a start. I felt like I could kick through a brick wall with my wound up legs. That fifteen seconds of walking after pedalling up a steep incline is like stepping out onto the moon. But alas, I could not launch myself twenty feet into the air. Such a let down.

Right now the western sun is licking flames off of the revolving brass fixtures in my ceiling fan. Focusing through the roof and throwing the blades violently into reverse is slipping me deeper into self-hypnosis. Ahhhh... I always get a kick out of optical illusions.

I haven't seen a heat mirage in a long long time and I intend to slice a few in half this summer. Met a few new people out riding today, and I also ran into Mei down on the esplanade. Now the strangely funky yet alluring organic musk I sampled at an art gallery earlier is reminding me to head back to the exhibit for some free wine.

p.s. move your feet!

I'll be moving into the house with the batshit landlord in a month. I'm excited for the extra space and the freedom to be, well, me. My roommate is setting up an art space in one of the rooms, it's great to pool together resources. I really wanted to get a dog but the yard isn't fenced in, and it's quite small. Perhaps a parrot, an African Grey. I could teach him how to insult my friends and scold my roommate for not taking out the trash.

In other news; I really miss canoe trips and camp fires.

My biggest regret about this past cyclonic weekend was that I didn't attend more of the events and that I didn't ask to have more pictures taken. They say hindsight is 20/20 but those people obviously didn't consume 75% of the previous days caloric intake in vodka. What did I do then? Lets take a look, shall we.

::Recovered Forensic Evidence::



Before this was taken I had discovered that the back bar only served beer in plastic squeeze bottles. I can put up with inferior beer as long as it's served out of a container that can double as an improvised weapon. Thank god Nataskaput steered me towards civilization. Two hours later I was trying to scoop the letters from Sparky's menu into my hand because they were sliding off the table.


Hey look, I made it to Prom. Lookin' sharp kid!


Alright, I did some dancing... and more drinking!


OK, looks like I'm ditching the social crutches and gonna slip on my flying shoes. Tear it up!


Oh hell yeah dancing fool!


Upon closer inspection...


wow... just put the damn thing down for a minute.


My name is James Bond, James... Bond...
(misquoted on purpose, anybody... anybody...?)


At least one picture is a keeper.

It was great to meet everyone, albeit briefly. The other highlights of this past weekend were the ride down and catching up with some of my non-site friends. I could fill the rest of this entry with the brilliance that is Nixon and Desidia but some things are best left between friends.

I will leave you with this however, when we finally make it to 2012 and discover that time traveling Troödons have devoured the invading creationist space horde only to unleash an even more terrifying army of alien ghost sharks, I'll be saddling up on a dolphin and launching myself into a black hole.