03 Jun 2007


Holy kamakaze tangential thought, Batman!

Pot doesn't make me paranoid. The fact that you all want me to drain myself out into petri dishes makes me paranoid. My boredom makes me paranoid. My broken-record thought process makes me paranoid. My parents make me paranoid. The police make me extremely paranoid. Bartenders who ask for ID make me paranoid. Old people make me paranoid. Cracks in the sidewalk make me paranoid. Broken glass in my bootheel makes me paranoid. Money makes me paranoid. Women make me extremely paranoid. Aging makes me paranoid. My inabilities make me paranoid.. My name makes me paranoid. Handwriting things makes me paranoid. Computers make me paranoid. God makes me extremely paranoid. Roaches make me paranoid.

*hint: look for highlights.

Currently Watching :
American Beauty (Widescreen Edition)
Release date: By 24 October, 2000

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This is a public service message. Do not adjust your screen.

I'd stake my life on the spike of your cynicism. Crtics always stick the plants where they need to be so the best of the best tend to rest on their feet. I, however, am flat and unfounded. An earth gone wrong on the prospect of simplicity. Sphere? Pishaw. Who needs curves when the point is so profound? Ground should be flat while the sun spins around.

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At least this is a productive drunk (fact)

Jenny jenny jenny. A magical Jenny eddied in the tide of my imaginations. Come and gone Jenny rushes in and leaves writing in the sand the language of the periodical currents. Jenny is rushed in the salt-water of tears and rusts, warm and wet inside of the blood and guts of joy. The world is a levee and Jenny is to break. Jenny is a many and well-versed article of life and, undenably, a lusty curiosity. She is unattainable and will as run wild as the waters twist their cells.Jenny is too good...

03 Jun 2007


Holy kamakaze tangential thought, Batman!

Pot doesn't make me paranoid. The fact that you all want me to drain myself out into petri dishes makes me paranoid. My boredom makes me paranoid. My broken-record thought process makes me paranoid. My parents make me paranoid. The police make me extremely paranoid. Bartenders who ask for ID make me paranoid. Old people make me paranoid. Cracks in the sidewalk make me paranoid. Broken glass in my bootheel makes me paranoid. Money makes me paranoid. Women make me extremely paranoid. Aging makes me paranoid. My inabilities make me paranoid.. My name makes me paranoid. Handwriting things makes me paranoid. Computers make me paranoid. God makes me extremely paranoid. Roaches make me paranoid.

*hint: look for highlights.

Currently Watching :
American Beauty (Widescreen Edition)
Release date: By 24 October, 2000

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This is a public service message. Do not adjust your screen.

I'd stake my life on the spike of your cynicism. Crtics always stick the plants where they need to be so the best of the best tend to rest on their feet. I, however, am flat and unfounded. An earth gone wrong on the prospect of simplicity. Sphere? Pishaw. Who needs curves when the point is so profound? Ground should be flat while the sun spins around.

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At least this is a productive drunk (fact)

Jenny jenny jenny. A magical Jenny eddied in the tide of my imaginations. Come and gone Jenny rushes in and leaves writing in the sand the language of the periodical currents. Jenny is rushed in the salt-water of tears and rusts, warm and wet inside of the blood and guts of joy. The world is a levee and Jenny is to break. Jenny is a many and well-versed article of life and, undenably, a lusty curiosity. She is unattainable and will as run wild as the waters twist their cells.Jenny is too good for the tempers of time and regularity. Jenny is an image to behold. No one can have Jenny here for here Jenny's growing old.


*insert translation, dedication and sight. I trust we are both reading. Trade truth for parenthetical and the run-on lasts for life.

Currently Watching :
American Beauty (Widescreen Edition)
Release date: By 24 October, 2000

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02 Jun 2007


Not as clever as it sounds right now. A first in a while attempt at prose.

You could set the time of day by his quakes. The shudders and convulsions ticked into the notches of his moments so that the creaks in the boards and pains running down his body were as steady as pendulum swings. Pure Einstein, they sat edged by small corners of sleep and inactivity where misery was plentiful but words could seldom explain why. These trapped little lifelines expanded into days where the sun had no hold and the moon was only sister to a miserable, comotose boil. He emptied his bowels into a plastic dish under his ass yet the world became stuck on some radical new revolution with him as the pinhead, angels dancing in his locks. Consciousness all nonsense now, he had no hold on himself or his body while his grasp was held firm on the globe.



She, beautiful, tended to his needs. Like some black-eyed Loki banished from the Asgard of his physical life, he screamed her curses in the language of his silence while the poison she dished from him day after day after day. She told him stories and read him Great Words. He only answered with the poison of his insides and the tumors of his unconscious loathing.



Motionless. Still. She waits in the corner for his call.

Currently Watching :
Barton Fink
Release date: By 20 May, 2003

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Everybody poops

Nail-snags of personality drag long ragged marks across the back of my hand. Each time I notice a watchhand stirring, my eye cannot help but catch the time marked by white-pink hash-bars of my mistakes. The hall I wander is sticky and peeling from the walls. The light is a seizure of fluorescent blue, humming with the dull intensity of a migraine headache. Bored ghosts watch, pushing the tacks from the walls in either a divine lesson of karmic retribution or some base prank meant to confuse. There is a doorway but the walls close themselves in before I break through.

Currently Watching :
Barton Fink
Release date: By 20 May, 2003

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Practical medicine for the plights of life

750 mL straight Ancient Age Kentucky Bourbon
1 badly misused hangover-emergency resin ball

A pisspoor cure for wounded pride.

Currently Reading :
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time
By Mark Haddon
Release date: By 18 May, 2004

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Badabing!

Excited! Excited! Excited! Excited!

I have never been this happy this easily withut the physical presence of (or prospect of obtaining) pot and liquor. What a good day. I want a soda.

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01 Jun 2007


When lonliness sets in--

Make Mexican food! By coupling this with several shots of tequila, a case of mediocre Mexican brew and a good quick spin of an old Choking Victim album you too can sit at home making romances with the various toppings you may have selected for your dining experience.

"How are you today, corn-shelled pile of spiced meat? There's a couple I would really like you to meet, they're names are refried beans and cheese. Salsa may come over later to say hello, so be sure to save some room in your home for them. Then? Oh, well after they stop over, there's wine and cheese, some tea and then you all get to die and burn in the waste factories of my ever-expanding gut."

I would cut myself and drain the skin to hold every last one of your tears. My insides could rot for ever and ever if only a shred of your lifetime is left unsquandered that wasn't once before. My heart beats in seizures at the sound of your voice, tossing itself on the sanscrit babel of your velvet tongue. Forgive me if I can never understand you, but believe me when I say that I will always always care.

Currently Listening :
No Gods, No Managers
By Choking Victim
Release date: By 30 March, 1999

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28 May 2007


School in a minute

and I hate you and you and you. You know what? I fucking hate everybody if for nothing else than a matter of self-satisfaction and efficiency. Yeah, you can all suck on my five-haired over-ticklish teet and die of lactose poisoning for all I care. Ooooh. Aaaah. I fucking hate you. (raspberry tongue sound).

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27 May 2007


Boo boos for Bandaids

Some things are good where you left them. Context is important. Memories are better. Putting people on like old clothes for bedtime and drenching yourself in the fiber of their eccentricities. This, strangely, becomes therapy in its way. Doses of old habits creeping into the good parts of your dreams while the corners of consiousness left in a box somewhere emerge from the attic cradled as old quilts and photographs. We are lonely, yes. But now we are warm.

Bill Murray rocked back in the day, not that he doesn't now. But I mean, c'mon. He's the man. Little Shop of Horrors, Ghostbusters and all. 9 pounds of herb through O'Hare. Hardcore man. Hardcore.

Frank Oz should also be recognized here for making one of the only two musicals I can even partially stomach.

I am working now. 2 days done. Much much muckledee muck in the burgs of Better Suburbia. Working working soda jerking for family-friends-relations. Somebody thought it'd be a good idea to give me a bottle of boozeand a license to kick ass. I felt like I had been called upon by the eye of thundara and some guilt-sexy catgirl were sprawled naked at my feet. Ohh-ahh. Feel the tingle. So clean. so clean. My arms now luxurious, akimbo bracing my pelvic thrust to the vagina of eternity.

But yeah, I kicked ass as a bartender. Who knew? I was also pretty decent as a busser and I never stole any liquor so I'm pretty happy with myself for that and I think I can keep that up. The father of the bride (I think) said I was the best worker there which means a bit since I hope he's talking to the other inlaws (one being the owner of the catering company... or something).

But lets get down to brass tax: Sixteen hours split between a total of twenty-eight on my first two days. I am bathing the insides of my feet in liqor to numb the pain of a ten hour day. Procedure involving and upright position, bottle of booze, eyes to the sky, mouth open, pour. It'll hit toe eventually.

Currently Reading :
Leaving Las Vegas
By John O'Brien
Release date: By 1990



Road trip to prehistory

The truth!


Somebody. Anybody. We have to go see this.

Currently Reading :
Laughter in the Dark
By Vladimir Nabokov
Release date: By 30 September, 2006

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25 May 2007


Clever clever

Also, why the hell does everybody have to be so goddamned cute with their myspace name thing? It's either really irritating or I'm particularly jealous.

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In case my phone runs out of batteries...

..any ladies wanting some hot hot Teddy-bear lovin' should leave a detailed message for me to masturbate to.

Picking ikons and idols from the back of my fingernailsI feel like a bulb of static electricity, getting myself fat on cupcakes and that sweet sweet honey of good company and conversation. I can picture you a picture nifty as can be with illustrator, now. Learning graphic design again and liking it very very much. It makes computers into clay goo that you can stick your hands into. Rearrange the shit, bugging fingers on hot wires and electricity., wiping them under the couch with patches of crusted up boogers and semen-stain.

I hope this just goes to show the decency of Macintosh computers as compared with your average Toshiba laptop (insert buggery).

The forests are burning, the forests are burning. The clowns pass buckets tucked tight in four-finger gloves, spashing confetti and spreading the ashes. Termites sizzle and pop, crackling Geronimos trip the light fantastic on their fall down down down down. Tsshhhhhh! Hiss! Piss-rant and protest erupt from popped air-pocket shells of their insect selves. While the summer sings "Renew! Renew!" calling you from whip and from chain, heat burning the lice from your coils of brain. Baptised by fire, we rise from the pyre a woodpile burning again.

Currently Watching :
Following
Release date: By 11 December, 2001

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23 May 2007


Dunno

I have looked so long
There in my eyes
Waiting for some
One who is whole

Oh you are heaven sent
Angel above
Where have you been?
I have your love

I've stood and waited here
Three years on end
Finished and then
Wait to begin

But when you blink its gone
Back to the shed
Blankets of webs
Keep you from cold

And when I say someday
I mean right now
Don't ask for more
I don't know how

When we speak and say
I am alone
You are a part
You make me whole

Do you remember when
I told you this
Sealed with a kiss
I love you still

So don't abandon me
Here in my room
Playing my harp
Breaking my heart
I'll be there soon

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21 May 2007


For all the lovely women in my life

No matter what you think
Oh mine are yours and
Yours are mine and
I cannot handle alone

Currently Listening :
Suffer
By Bad Religion
Release date: By 06 April, 2004

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17 May 2007


Non-cents

I am in summer school. Isn't that special? Sure is. Uh-huh. Brain fractures manufactured by seizured neural response to question number two: after what then comes why so what do you do? I am actually liking the class a lot. It's like sticking your hands into a bowl full of bread dough and twisting it between your fingers until you can trick the world that your logo can not only attract customers, but exist as an artistic work and get rid of your acne for good.

baby baby no baby no.

slave labor favors the easily fooled

dink winston made a tropical noise-hood done bang doogie-houser.

Currently Watching :
Jesus' Son
Release date: By 22 July, 2003

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13 May 2007


Cranking Cable

Left my phone in a Mexican restaurant many miles away south of the border and close to my heart. Calls will be missed. I will not.

Heartburn fuckin' kills.

Tiny creatures crawiling, mewling
Scamper up my shin
Their claws
Their tails and ragged nails
Try desperate to dig in

It's good to see the parentals. Soon will see sister and celebrate returns. Churning stomachs run amok in the wee wee hours of the morn but online porn and Voltron Force suffice to stem the accursed gut rutted and sliced with mexican food, red meat and liquor. Kaboom. Rooms run red with violet croovey, groovy scene for intestinal wranglers and meat-made noose-hangers banging and fucking in the muck of my colon. I shat my last shit so a cork is the cost. Man am I a mess, my words wallow lost. (thoughts on temporary constipation)

Currently Watching :
The Science of Sleep
Release date: By 06 February, 2007

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07 May 2007


Streetwalkin' cheetah with a heart fulla napalm

Something smells bad in my apartment

I need more tortillas

Too much booze

Never enough herb

I seriously handle my drugs better than most; and this is sad... especially seeing as I can't spell

Venture Brothers is as good as Evan said it was

Something smells in my apartment

I am, like, 212 times cooler than the average person in Athens

I am no longer a felon

It took me almost 2 months to realize a bottle of hair "enhancer" was actually NOT a bottle of wood polish I stole from the Hilton in Miami. This is devastating to me and also very embarassingly true.

I'm very irritated at the lack of fireworks sales in this town

Every wedding dress should be called a "little white lie"

Wow, T.O.. That's a huge joint you rolled for no reason.

Hah.

I kill myself

-Wordperioddotdot





Bitches.

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01 May 2007


Head-facts: The Man With Brain Go Boom

Too too much study
To befuddle the head
Nose rose-red and runny
Blast of brains being bled

Pick parts plug the holes
(To me tampons work best)
Tip your head back and hold
Make Mom mop up the mess

Chug-chug til chugged chugging
Jumped ship for the floor
Fled far for the lugging
Useless facts through the door

Tiny train of old memory
Squeaks meek on the tracks
Don't have left the energy
No room to take back

Hither and thither
The fun flies up-up
Childhood rises
But can't bank like a buck

But broke head full of learning
Split center and seam
Smells like feathers burning
With the whisper of dreams

Toss sweet tender and time
Lose your art to make space
Putting them in for mine
Makes for good letter-grades

Beg bark for a biscuit
Obedience sells
Place facts over fiction
Cash register bells

Test taken, take tampons
Sneeze loud hard and long
Splatter parts cross the scantron
Let them head-facts run gone

Currently Watching :
Last Days
Release date: By 25 October, 2005

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26 Apr 2007


shazam! shazam! shazam!

Paper paper paper paper
Twenty-two pager paper
Fill in a crater paper
Dealing with you later paper
Safer staying home

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23 Apr 2007


Intrusion

Become the true intruder

Broke through the bounds and borders

Dead dancing in on orders

You shiver

Break the bone



Speak only if the truth hurts

Lies leave us with an exit

Don't do unless we let it

You shudder

Welcome home



Freed from confrontation

Hip holsters swing with ray guns

We smile so we stay numb

Weapons drawn

Silence kills



We exist as obligation

Backs broken til the day comes

No pain in machination

Stick 'em up

Become still

Currently Reading :
Film and Literature: An Introduction and Reader
By Timothy Corrigan
Release date: By 30 November, 1998

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Ever wish you were half a man?

Really, that girl sawed in half in the waiting room of Beetlegeus is pretty hot. That's wrong isn't it? Yeah, that's wrong? Yeah. I'm pretty much sure that that's wrong.

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