Sweet Jeesus, Good goddamnit Miss Quickley.
Get your sorry, expanding, self-indulgent arse out of bed. Get off your fucking ass, stop with the fucking procrastination, and remember the lesson that that eye-liner wearing andro-queen taught you, and that it's a fuckload easier to stress yourself out by doing things, than to be sitting there, smoking pot, fucking freaking out about it not getting done.
Because nearing on 2 months is TOO MUCH TIME for you, so-called proud, industrious, workaholic maritimer to be parked on your rear, without even the dignity of the dole, but mooching off yer lovin' family, talking fuckin' bullshit about the great genius ideas you're puttin' into motion with nothin more than a stack of cryptic looseleaf and a litany of complaints to the tech support department to show for it. Your Art and Calling is NOT served by your ability to sit through 10 fucking years worth of South Park.
Pick yourself up by your fucking bootstraps, and do something with your self or I swear on my life,I will take that fancy piece of paper you're so god damned proud of, and fucking burn it. I'll drop you into a whole as deep as that debt, and point and laugh as I hear your bones crack on impact. God help me, I will turn my back on you and walk out that door, and you can sit there in your ash-covered, popcorn littered ugly orange comforter, and let your eyes shrink to raisins from cartoons, your body swell 'til they have to knock a wall down to get you out, and your touted potential expands into a stinking wet spot under your bed-sored behemoth of an ass. And I will never turn back.
Today's Mandatory Berating brought to you by:
The Lovely Miss Kaffeine. How important is she?
Important enough to inspire both the preceding, and following sections of this entry. The Pedagogical Smack Upside The Head, and the lighter, thoughtful, relief portion of the evening.
IM IN UR SUICIDE GRLZ MAKIN UR MEMEZ!!1!ONE!
1) When was the last time you had a nice, loving wank?
I'd say... somewhere over 48 hrs ago, but not by much. Although I don't know that I'd necessarily ever characterize my wank as loving. Relieving. Soothing. Yes.
2) What's your favourite drug? If you're straight edge (or otherwise boring), what's your favourite way to escape/distort reality?
I guess, judging by the frequency of use and I'll even dare admit, dependence on Miss Mary Jane, that she wins, but in truth. It's the E. It changed everything, and in many ways, for the better. Changes that needed happening. And although I'm quite glad for my falling out of the culture, and lifestyle it carried, I learned the most important of the things I know about people.
3) Quote a passage from anything you've read recently that actually moved you. (I don't care if it's the liner notes to an album or the menu at Schwartz's.):
Two. If I may.
(Whaddya gonna do? Fire me?)
Both found in the same book (The Golden Thread; Bruce Meyer) but not connected. Well. Ok. They Connect in my head.
"He sees all and is omniscient and continuous because he exists outside of time. God is beyond the reach of the imagination, of course, but what the Bible tell us is that God is reachable through the imagination, and the imagination, like heaven or Eden, is limitless, boundless and beyond time." (Meyer)
O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention;
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
(Shakespeare, Henry V, in which, coincidentally, the Original Mistress Quickley encounters her demise by Syphilis. Don't worry boys. It ain't half as scary now as it was back then
)
But Seriously. I've been thinking/feeling/worrying a lot about my thing with Theatre and how my obsession/commitment/devotion borders on the fervent and religious, and genuine "calling" rather than a career choice/affinity/interest. It's especially clear when I have to defend it. It brings to mind conversation had with friends in High School who were born-again. It's scary. Holy.
4) What's the first album you ever bought? I don't care how embarrassing it is.
Live. Throwing Copper.
5) Tell me about the last time you made someone cry:
I made my mother cry. And I don't for a minute feel bad about it.
Because she was playing "poor me" (not about me in anyway, don't worry) and I told her to stop perpetuating the problem she was having, and take responsibility for her situation and I was right.
6) Tell me about your favourite pair of shoes:
My Burgundy Doc Martens were purchased in January 1998 during a snow storm. They are slipperly like curling shoes and fading like beloved denim. My Docs make me bullet proof. I cannot fall down in them. I can trample any obstacle in my path.
7) Apples or oranges?
Peaches. HA. Take THAT!
8) Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan?
Bruce Lee. Mysterious Dynastic Curse trumps Slapstick.
9) Mr. T or Chuck Norris?
If Chuck Norris ever fought Chuck Norris, Chuck Norris would win. Hands down. And if this is true, then I can only assume he could kick some yellow-bellied T ass.
10) What's the etymology of your first name?
Nanette, derived from the Hebrew Nan meaning Grace, and the French diminutive suffix, ette means, surprise! Little Graceful one. It was given to my by my adoptive mother, who was either a huge fan of Nanette Workman's music, or moniker, she won't say.
11) This one goes to eleven.
Mwaha!
xox
Another Entry Tomorrow.
I promise.
Get your sorry, expanding, self-indulgent arse out of bed. Get off your fucking ass, stop with the fucking procrastination, and remember the lesson that that eye-liner wearing andro-queen taught you, and that it's a fuckload easier to stress yourself out by doing things, than to be sitting there, smoking pot, fucking freaking out about it not getting done.
Because nearing on 2 months is TOO MUCH TIME for you, so-called proud, industrious, workaholic maritimer to be parked on your rear, without even the dignity of the dole, but mooching off yer lovin' family, talking fuckin' bullshit about the great genius ideas you're puttin' into motion with nothin more than a stack of cryptic looseleaf and a litany of complaints to the tech support department to show for it. Your Art and Calling is NOT served by your ability to sit through 10 fucking years worth of South Park.
Pick yourself up by your fucking bootstraps, and do something with your self or I swear on my life,I will take that fancy piece of paper you're so god damned proud of, and fucking burn it. I'll drop you into a whole as deep as that debt, and point and laugh as I hear your bones crack on impact. God help me, I will turn my back on you and walk out that door, and you can sit there in your ash-covered, popcorn littered ugly orange comforter, and let your eyes shrink to raisins from cartoons, your body swell 'til they have to knock a wall down to get you out, and your touted potential expands into a stinking wet spot under your bed-sored behemoth of an ass. And I will never turn back.
Today's Mandatory Berating brought to you by:
The Lovely Miss Kaffeine. How important is she?
Important enough to inspire both the preceding, and following sections of this entry. The Pedagogical Smack Upside The Head, and the lighter, thoughtful, relief portion of the evening.
IM IN UR SUICIDE GRLZ MAKIN UR MEMEZ!!1!ONE!
1) When was the last time you had a nice, loving wank?
I'd say... somewhere over 48 hrs ago, but not by much. Although I don't know that I'd necessarily ever characterize my wank as loving. Relieving. Soothing. Yes.
2) What's your favourite drug? If you're straight edge (or otherwise boring), what's your favourite way to escape/distort reality?
I guess, judging by the frequency of use and I'll even dare admit, dependence on Miss Mary Jane, that she wins, but in truth. It's the E. It changed everything, and in many ways, for the better. Changes that needed happening. And although I'm quite glad for my falling out of the culture, and lifestyle it carried, I learned the most important of the things I know about people.
3) Quote a passage from anything you've read recently that actually moved you. (I don't care if it's the liner notes to an album or the menu at Schwartz's.):
Two. If I may.
(Whaddya gonna do? Fire me?)
Both found in the same book (The Golden Thread; Bruce Meyer) but not connected. Well. Ok. They Connect in my head.
"He sees all and is omniscient and continuous because he exists outside of time. God is beyond the reach of the imagination, of course, but what the Bible tell us is that God is reachable through the imagination, and the imagination, like heaven or Eden, is limitless, boundless and beyond time." (Meyer)
O for a Muse of fire, that would ascend
The brightest heaven of invention;
A kingdom for a stage, princes to act
And monarchs to behold the swelling scene!
(Shakespeare, Henry V, in which, coincidentally, the Original Mistress Quickley encounters her demise by Syphilis. Don't worry boys. It ain't half as scary now as it was back then
)But Seriously. I've been thinking/feeling/worrying a lot about my thing with Theatre and how my obsession/commitment/devotion borders on the fervent and religious, and genuine "calling" rather than a career choice/affinity/interest. It's especially clear when I have to defend it. It brings to mind conversation had with friends in High School who were born-again. It's scary. Holy.
4) What's the first album you ever bought? I don't care how embarrassing it is.
Live. Throwing Copper.
5) Tell me about the last time you made someone cry:
I made my mother cry. And I don't for a minute feel bad about it.
Because she was playing "poor me" (not about me in anyway, don't worry) and I told her to stop perpetuating the problem she was having, and take responsibility for her situation and I was right.
6) Tell me about your favourite pair of shoes:
My Burgundy Doc Martens were purchased in January 1998 during a snow storm. They are slipperly like curling shoes and fading like beloved denim. My Docs make me bullet proof. I cannot fall down in them. I can trample any obstacle in my path.
7) Apples or oranges?
Peaches. HA. Take THAT!
8) Bruce Lee or Jackie Chan?
Bruce Lee. Mysterious Dynastic Curse trumps Slapstick.
9) Mr. T or Chuck Norris?
If Chuck Norris ever fought Chuck Norris, Chuck Norris would win. Hands down. And if this is true, then I can only assume he could kick some yellow-bellied T ass.
10) What's the etymology of your first name?
Nanette, derived from the Hebrew Nan meaning Grace, and the French diminutive suffix, ette means, surprise! Little Graceful one. It was given to my by my adoptive mother, who was either a huge fan of Nanette Workman's music, or moniker, she won't say.
11) This one goes to eleven.
Mwaha!
xox
Another Entry Tomorrow.
I promise.
kaffeine:
I'm going to read and re-read your self-pep-talk all day tomorrow. Because that's exactly what I need right now. GO YOU!
kaffeine:
I like being in your head; it's full of yummy Nanette-stuff.