[there are no lyrics to the futurama theme] :-( 

well, that was pretty interesting. i decided to cryogenically freeze myself for 907 years so that i could score with amy wong and hang out with bender. after insulting fry a bit and avoiding the walking stench that is zoidberg, i stole farnsworth's time machine and arrived back here in good old 2003. had i been able to figure out the auto-controls on the device, i would have prevented it from warping back to the year 3000. i would freeze myself again in order to get the time vehicle back, but doing so would create a paradox of two me's existing in the future, thus throwing the entire universe out of whack and the whole of existence collapsing into a dank pit out near alpha centauri. that and suspended animation is really boring.

i spent a bit of time in photoshop today to produce the most recent of illustrations into my rapidly delusional world. if i can't get a totally hot sexy fox like amy wong in real life, than damnit at least the cartoon representative of myself is gonna get massive tail. the universe must be balanced out properly.

hard to believe i spent an entire day mindlessly doodling. well, not all of it. portions of the day were consumed with discussing quite a few things with craig. his dogs managed to completely massacre one of the stray cats his grandma takes in, and it was his duty to see to it that the feline corpse be taken care of. i don't envy him. the last time i saw a dead cat alongside the road it was quite a depressing sight. it was a black cat tho, so at least it was a beast of pure evil that had been introduced to the shiny chrome of a late model buick, yet still. cats are cool. meow.

ugh. wed i work until 11pm or so, and then thurs morning again at 7a. that is gonna be massively brutal. i don't even know if i will be able to wake up. since it takes me at least an hour or two to wind down after work, not too mention a half hour to just get home, i won't be getting to bed until around 1am. wake up 6a to get ready for work. five hours of sleep is not nearly enough for me. yet, if i don't go to bed now that's what i'll end up with for today. so despite my being wide awake and just starting to feel alive, i have to go to sleep. this kind of torture is really destroying my fragile system, i must say. being a night owl is a difficult thing in itself, but made even more so difficult when you have to adjust to randomely fluctuating work schedules. being that i'm extremely anal and obsessive compulsive, i like developing routines that i stick to. deviation is non-negotiable.

have you ever developed a relationship with a song where it consumed the whole of your existence? hey nineteen by steely dan. if you want to know how i am right now, listen to that particular song. i dunno why, but it's my favorite song. although once i listen to it a few more thousand times, i'll get so bored of it that the mere suggestion of the tune will send me into a fit of madness. madness i say! with monkeys and spitting elephants!

oh dear god! and don't forget the raddishes!

  • 9.29.2003

    where are those good old fashioned values on which we used to rely? 

    boredom + 2am = photoshop fun.

    yes. that is what i would look like were i a character on family guy, and shagging meg griffin. gigidy-gigidy-gigidy-gigidy-gigidy-gigidy.


    longer blog when i wake up later today.

  • 9.28.2003

    and i don't like what you got me hanging from 

    work was alright last night. it went about as well as it could; there were some *interesting* spots where the department i work in had to cover for the other department's fuck-ups, but it's all good in the long run i suppose. it would make the department look better were anybody actually to care.

    damnit. i just pissed about half hour ago and already i have this burning sensation that i need to go wizz again. yet, if i were to, i know i wouldn't go because my bladder likes to play childish games with me. not the good quality ones like chutes and ladders, but a shitty game, like operation. everyone knows if you are gonna play that game you remove the damn batteries first anyways.

    i got work again today. but then i have tomorrow off. which is interesting, because typically i am supposed to get sundays off (since i have other obligations) but yet they scheduled me on tonight, and off tomorrow. and the guy who normally works on sundays has today off but has to work tomorow. hmmm...

    by the time i get through watching every episode of family guy (bought the dvds on fri), my brain will have been reduced to a fine mush edible only for the most sacred of royalty. yes, that's right. feast away you festering borish ninnies! i shall soon exact my vengeance upon thee!!!!

    today's blog seems to be full of several paragraphs consisting of at best, only one or two sentences. sometimes three. this particular paragraph fits into that category.

    so does this one. :-P

    ho-hum. this big empty house all to myself. what would be really great during this time (well, the half hour i have before work) would be a bunch of college grrls running around semi-nude. i say partially because i still have to have the fun of removing the remainder of their clothes. i imagine there was quite a lot of that going on at the party up the street. assloads of cars everywhere, all dopey high school kids from crackmont a few blocks away. i woulda gone over but, ya know. chances are somebody would be sober enough to point out that i didn't belong there. at which point all the drunk people would fall over themselves as they tried to evict me from their gathering. then i woulda laughed.

    but no. i sat here at home and instead watched family guy. eh-heh-heh-heh-heh-heh.

    i have some good writing left in me, i'm just not sure where i put it. this isn't one of those posts that ends up on the highlight reel. this will be forgotten as the one that sat on the edit room floor, as some blitzed half-wit tries to figure out how the hell to make keanue reeves look impressive on film. but rest assured, i do have some more gems of inspiration just waiting to be flicked from the nostrils of mother muse herself. it just takes time to get to the good ones in the back.

    if i don't sleep in terribly late tomorrow, i got some projects i intend to work on. possibly involving worldcraft, all of them requiring photoshop, and some of them i must trek to find the gray sherpa monkey who can guide me to the eternal place of........ um. oh.

    you're still here?

  • 9.27.2003

    why sleep, just to dream her? beg the night just to see her 

    *geek powers activate*

    went to fry's last night with nathan. this was a mistake (going to fry's) since i ended up seeing a bunch more shit i want for my new system. originally, i was just gonna go somewhat simple, with just a 2.4ghz processor and a pretty boring case. until i saw the new antec silent case and got a major case of "GIVE ME THAT FUCKING COMPUTER CASE RIGHT NOW OR YOU DIE" which is bad, because the case i originally was gonna get is only 40 bucks; yet this case is 130. i could prolly find it a bit cheaper online, but i imagine not below a hundred.

    but then of course, i would need a 500watt psu for the case since it just has a dinky, worthless 350. i don't care to overtax my system and wind up listening to what sounds like chinese firecrackers going off at new year whilst my processor and other components melt into little puddles of silicon goo. however the 500w psu is also 130. so, instead of a 40 dollar case, i'm now spending 260 on just the fucking plastic box and steel cage that houses the mother fucker. sick.

    and of course, i am now determined to get a dvd-r in it as well. since i realized that i have cheaped out every other system i have built, i figure it's time to treat myself nice and build what i really want. something that makes hl2 and max payne2 shit themselves, then beg for more. however, after realizing i wish to do this, i *then* realized that this box is cost an arm and a leg, two things i rather keep attached to my body then sacrifice for a computer. i may be a psychotic comp geek, but i'm not a maniac.

    i might finally actually name this system "erin." in much the same fashion as other nerds out there, i tend to name my computers but have never really had the nerve to name my system after her. most of my boxes have been either named for her friends or other cute chicks. since i plan for this system to be the end-all-be-all computer, i might just steal that moniker.

    but most likely, i pussy out and name it something else like "fragbox" or "gutless."

    specs??? you want to know the specs????

    p4 2.6ghz with 800MHz fsbus
    1gig 3200 DDR 400 RAM
    WD 200 GB 8MB Caviar
    GeForce 4 TI 128MB
    Sony DVD-R/RW
    SB Audigy
    antec silent case (i can't remember the exact name of the case)
    500w Antec psu

    in time i'm gonna upgrade the memory a bunch, too. the board i have supports 4gig so eventually i would want to bring it to about that much. however, i dunno if you have seen lately, but 4gig of 3200 memory costs roughly the same as your soul on the black market, so i might just hold off on that until memory prices come down a bit more considerably, or when i have a hankering to collect your soul in a bottle and poke it with a stick.

    *geek mode off*

    nathan had never seen the usual suspects before *gasp!* *whump!* *acccck!* so i treated him to the experience. while at fry's i saw they had the special edition of it on sale for like fifteen bucks. the version i previously owned was just the film itself without any special features (trailer isn't a special feature, stop deluding yourselves) and it was also grainier than shit since the studio's goal at the time of the pressing was "get it out for sale now" instead of "let's make this film not look like a grainy piece of ass." the special edition has a much nicer looking image. although, as i lay there this morning, i was thinking about how the grain in the older transfer actually gives the film some character. needless to say, i'm keeping both copies. perhaps i might even edit a version where the grainy scenes are needed to establish character.

    bullshit. we all know i'm too much of a lazy bastard to actually go to the trouble of doing that.

    ugh. work in two hours. i want more time off.... :-( the days off were a tease. telling me "that's what freedom is like." poo.

    since the chili fries i ate last night are currently performing excavations on my intestines, and my stomach is slowly consuming itself due to lack of any nutritional input in the last fourteen hours, thereby resulting in a double whammy of massive abdominal torture, i shall leave now and either eat, or wilt the wallpaper in the bathroom.

  • 9.25.2003

    and when you wanted someone else, i withdrew 

    craig just simply rocks. he waited around for me last night to chat since i was bummed about not chatting with anyone the previous night. that guy kicks ass.

    so mom and dad are out of town for a week and half. they left yesterday morning and *the vermin!* went and had town spa last night. grrrr. i haven't had that pizza in like five years now. cravings....... over.........whelming......... me..........

    had an oddly interesting moment at work last night. while walking down the hallway, i started singing the line "let the sunshine in" from hair, and a bunch of other people in the hallway started singing it as well. very strange.

    since today is my "saturday," i hafta figure out what i am gonna do. i was thinking of working on some mapping projects, but i also have an urge to finally setup my drumkit and start playing on it again. i also have no idea what i want for lunch. even though i have money in my account from being paid, ma gave me like sixty bucks for food for the next week anyways. haven't decided yet if i want wendy's, or a sandwhich from lorenzo's.

    i also may do some drawing. not too sure yet.

    anyways. i might be re-organizing the links off to the right at some point... so they are in the order in which i browse the web. why? don't ask me that. i don't have an answer.

    i'm feeling alright for now. got the chance to finally sleep in; i don't hafta worry about running around to get ready for work in an hour; and i can *finally* watch 'that 70's show' again tonight! yay!

    more as it develops....

  • 9.24.2003

    isn't it nice? sugar and spice; luring disco darlings to a life of vice 

    fucking a. i hate paypal with a massive passion. i created an account with them over three years ago, using an e-mail address that no longer is active. in the time since then, i have forgotten my user-account password and therefore cannot use my account. i can't get a password retreival because the e-mail address is non-existant. i can't create a new account because paypal accuses me of being a theif and not the real owner of the credit card already used, despite the obvious fact that the name of the card and information i am giving them is *exactly the same.*

    hence, i can't buy the poster that i want at machall. all i wanted was a web comic poster for my room, but can i get that? no. i can't get a fucking 13 dollar poster because of financial redtape.

    damnit all. are things ever gonna go my way or should i just give up all manner of hope as we speak? everything i've wanted the past six months have completely failed. i wanted to go to school; i got majorly rejected. i've wanted a grrl for the past 10 years; not gonna happen. i wanted to go to manhattan beach; i can not go. i was hoping to buy dad's camry, but it's now sitting in a body shop since some dumbass reduced the entire back end to slag. all i want at this point is a fucking poster. 13 bucks, damnit. one fucking poster for my room. DENIED.

    i came home from work hoping to talk to some friends online. all of them have since gone to bed long before i signed online because, oh wait. that's right; they all go to bed at *normal* hours because they don't work lat night shifts. despite sending several "how ya doing" e-mails over the past two months, i haven't heard back from any of my long distance friends.

    so, no more friends, no grrl, no trip to visit the hometown fair, and the most crushing insult of all, no poster. is one fucking measly poster so much to ask for??? sweet fuck if i can't have any of the other shit, at least let me have the poster for my room damnit.

    this isn't really about the poster. wait. yes it is. well, partially anyways. it's about how all of a sudden life has taken this "fuck you ya little shit" attitude towards me. ok, so i'm a loser. i guess i have to accept that since there is nothing at this point that i can do to change this. i'm never gonna have a woman that loves me. that's a given. it seems like a hopelessly impossible dream to begin with. i can't have a good education now because i fucked up my future way back when. of all the friends i have made in the last five years, about five of them still remain friends with me. jesus am i really that unworthy of friendship? so i'm lousy with friendships and social interactions. and yet, i can't even decorate my room to at least make me feel the slightest bit better in a meaningless shallow way.


    once nice thing happened today. mom got me a card that said she knows i am going through rough times, and that with patience, things will get better.

    i just hope she's right.

  • 9.21.2003

    safe inside my guilded cage with an ounce of pain, i wield a ton of rage 

    behold, a random inspired deluge of worthless creativity:

    back before the dawn of time, when jay leno was yet to host the tonight show, and mitsubishi was not quite the massive conglomerate that we know it as today, there was a time of great peace and solitude. the invention of the paradigm shift shattered all sense of sanity and gave birth to chaos.

    eons went by where great destruction was wreaked upon billions of planetary bodies; reducing them to little more than dust floating about in the great meaningless vacuum of reality. these eventually approached our solar system and rained down single celled organisms that burrowed themselves deep into our planet’s surface, waiting for a convenient moment.

    when biological spores finally began to rise from the ground and spewed their insipid reproductive juices in the sand and all manner of horrible creatures from the depths of the oceans first congregated, there existed what locals at the time referred to as “dinosaurs.”

    these massive walking buildings were the ultimate arch nemesis for the human race; man with his small, fragilely squish-able frame came up against gargantuan beasts who possessed little more brain power than your average home stereo. it was quite misfortunate if one were to find themselves under the gnarled hoofs of such demons.
    though regarded at the time as being the ultimate technological achievement, man’s spear was powerless against the reptilian mountains; their skin like that of a second hand nuclear shelter.

    great carnage was suffered anytime one of these god-forsaken creatures were to stumble and fall upon the trappings of their own ignorance.
    that is, until the day man developed a larger brain, and hence sent forth a message unto the heavens requesting a large object of tremendous mass to strike down upon the land and lay waste to all manner of animal that stood as a threat to mankind.

    this plan is generally accepted to have been the first modern triumph of man, despite the obnoxious fact that every last trace of humanity was wiped from the earth for a good thousand years until once more, a three-eyed fish emerged from the primordial slime and gave us another chance at existence.

    throughout the millennia, mankind would come up against an infinite banquet of natural predators who threatened the very survival of our species. lions, tigers, and gigantic hibernating fur coats would all have their chance at attempting what few life forms have yet to accomplish; the destruction and removal of the homo-sapien.

    undeterred with a will to survive akin only to sheer psychotic-ness, we have pressed on and defeated each and every foe we have yet to come across.

    where once the cruel and relentless world went with the mighty, it now looked to the microscopic soldiers that it created solely to wreak havoc upon the flaws inherent in the immune systems of our bodies. indeed this did appear to pose a threat, as it began to remove immense throngs of citizens from their wretchedly dank communities where they once rejoiced in the squalor of their pitiful mortality. yet, once again mankind arose and was proclaimed victor.

    today we are faced with a new form of natural selection. up until this point, the majority of human deaths had been by natural causes, not counting those unfortunate tools whom had been run over by locomotives or crushed by falling buildings. we encounter a new, more powerful yet deadly force that has arrived in its prime to reap the souls of our damned society.

    bearing strangely alien names, such as “toyota” and “subaru,” we have now become hapless fodder for giant mechanical gargoyles that surge under their own will in a desperate struggle to gain foothold in the eternal battle. no longer must we fear the calcium enriched teeth of rabid beasts; instead our enemy has since been replaced with powerful steel and fossilized fuels; packaged with a shiny plastic exoskeleton that appears aesthetically pleasing to the foolishly unwary.

    guided by the skilled claws of unholy spirits whose intent is simple, we are powerless to defend ourselves as we are hunted down by these demonic vessels of doom. many of them small, and gifted with unbelievable agility; they can succeed where other means of elimination have failed. entering into small spaces and seeking out the fleshy sacks we inhabit, they stalk from neighborhood to neighborhood, traveling upon massive networks of concrete veins that spread out across our nation in much the manner of our own circulatory systems. they are ruled by a special utility king, with its high center of gravity and large hulking mass he should no doubt be feared; his propensity to perform physically destructive maneuvers and spontaneously combust having claimed countless life after another.

    they have achieved what no other force has yet been able to; complete and utter saturation of their kind throughout our planet. a select few cultures have been able to fight back the adoption of these twisted legions of evil agents of the underworld. they have realized, perhaps far too late to be effectively helpful to those already doomed, that we are slowly digging our own shallow graves.

    insanity is an apt diagnosis for those of us who fall victim to the temptations of these devices. we fully acknowledge the demonic plan these vehicles of satan himself are to carry out, yet we remain powerless to resist. time is but only a matter before we succumb ultimately to the charms of their seemingly harmless nature, and we are all rendered a lost civilization.

  • can't fight against the youth 

    i am posting supremely early due to the fact i will be unable to post for the majority of the day. after i play in the morning, the fam and i are going to breakfast and then *immediately* after i gotta go to work. gotta love when i spend more time at work than i do with my family. i regret it as we speak.

    i seriously need to find a *normal* job with *normal* hours. not this psycho bullshit work from noon until midnight on the weekend shit.

    although, tonight was fairly good. got to leave on time, even. wow!

    tip: don't let heavy equipment come between your fingers and an immovable surface. your fingers will lose, and so will you....

  • 9.20.2003

    and that's the way the teddy bears have their picnic 

    for some odd reason, that song was stuck in my head all last night during my shift. go figure.

    posts may be a little smaller in the next week as i in large part will be wholly consumed by dreadful amounts of strenuous labor. at least we all lucked out last night.

    several changes were made on the orders that allowed me and my co-worker to leave a bit early last night. that helped a bit. however there exists currently this major flaw in the communcations at work leaving many of the employees to be utterly clueless as to just what precisely is ocurring at any given time. since nothing is organized in any reasonably logical fashion, one pretty much has to rely on... well, nothing. there is nothing to indicate the arrangements for much of this busy time.

    finally, a night that i can come home from work and see *all* of family guy with my kin, and yet, cartoon network doesn't run family guy on fri nights anymore. they run new eps of powerpuff grrls and some other lame ass cartoon. bummer. ended up catching csi instead. i like to drive mom nutz by telling her that the head guy on the original csi makes it look like he's pretending to be george clooney, and that the head guy on csi: miami is trying to be william h macy. you can kinda see how i have validity in my convictions, too. ya gotta look real hard, but the clues are there.

    unfortunately i don't have any time this weekend to install 2k on dad's new laptop. him and ma are heading up to block island in new england on wed for a week and half retreat for dudley's show. while they are away dad's still gotta do work and yet, his new laptop suprisingly came with 98 installed on it. *shudders* normally i would be more than happy to help him out, but seeing as how i have no time at all this weekend outside of work, it's virtually impossible for me to take care of it for him. everything ties back to the job.

    had i not be working this mundane schedule, i could be down in so cal, *right now* enjoying the beachs and seeing if i can find erin.

    i could fix dad's laptop if i had more time to myself and not spent working.

    i would be able to establish a bit more of a social life if i actually worked during the day like normal people and had the evenings off.

    sigh. i seriously would stop bitching about things if my lot in life ever were to improve, but no. but i digress.

    oh. another part of that dream the other night was at point, i helped out at a starbucks. very strange. i was working there with some other guys, when this cranky bitch of an asian woman came in who i will lovingly refer to as "yoko ono" and requested some fucked up espresso thing. we started making it as she keeps yapping about how she's late and how we're doing a shitty job. ingredients of note that we put into her drink: sand, pepples, chalk, roach killer, and some waxy substance. she takes a sip, smiles, and walks off. i bet she keeled over in dreamland about two minutes later.

    i gotta go shower to get ready for tonight's shift. grrrrrr.

  • 9.19.2003

    you say goodbye, and i say hello 

    oh yeah. shout out to hajra who is enjoying my blog. sorry i didn't respond for so long, haven't checked my e-mail in awhile.

    hope you enjoy!

  • big bottom, big bottom, my baby, she got `em 

    update from dreamland: this just in. i have now been a drummer for spinal tap! that's not exactly a wonderful thing to proclaim; means now that in another dream i'll die in some horribly ridiculous fashion. but it was cool nonetheless. it was the cast getting back together as a real band to go tour, so they asked if i would fill in since their last drummer (the actor) was dead in spooky real life. still in dreamtime tho. it was a lot of fun.

    until i suddenly appeared in a classroom at some university with a professor interviewing me for his class. that was really odd because i again began shifting between different people in the room, all the while seeing my actual self, not some altered version of myself or some other person. the professor was asking my really stupid questions. all the while, it seemed like the kids were pretty interested in what i had to say. i dunno. i wasn't paying that much attention.

    next thing i know, i'm standing out on this path in a little parklike place with a wooded bridge going over to another area, with a gentle river passing under it. like a calm garden you would see in a large metropolitan area, or possibly even at a college campus. as i stand there checking out my surroundings, this asian grrl walks up near me, then steps back, and then gets up right next to me. she mumbles something and hurridly walks away. i follow her over to the bridge, and stand in front of her to stop her. i ask her what she said. "are you going to do something to me?" she repeats as what she originally said before she turned tail and began to leave. she gave me this somewhat intense look, and then she walked off. i must have momentarily been disoriented because i didn't catch where she headed and thus was unable to follow her. i walked across the bridge, all the while seeing people who congratulated me on a good show with tap the previous night. i get to the bottow where there are some jr high kids waiting for me to give them a ride in my car.


    sigh. plu started this last week. too bad i'm not going there.

    i still can't get over that whole debacle. really, what was the point of my going through all of that? it wasn't just mere coincidence that there *happened* to be a plu music scholarship form in the foyer of the church. it had to have been a sign. but why did all the signs point to me going to school when it ended up i didn't? it was essentially just one big fucking tease. i mean, the chair of the music department asked me to send in an audition tape anyways despite my being past the acceptable date, then he sent back a thing saying he was really impressed with my tape. then i go through the whole trouble of taking the sat so i would have a score to submit. then nothing. i get shot down. denied. what the fuck?

    that's also why i believe dreams are another form of reality. there is just as much random shit that happens in my daily life that happens in *any* dream. hard to distinguish between the two states of being when both equally excell at confusing the shit out of ya.

    i mean, come on now. i've waited five years to see if i could figure out what i'm supposed to do and what might predictably happen in my life. during that period of time, very few actual events of major significance occurred. sure, there were some highlights, but the majority of the time was just spent existing in a state of limbo while i waited for myself to get it's act together. so far, no luck.

    i've said it before and i'll say it forever. someone is getting a really big laugh over watching me get repetetively fucked.

  • 9.18.2003

    come on baby leave some change behind 

    wow. my dreams took an interestingly twisty turn last night. as my dreams happened, i began randomely inhabiting different participants in the dream. first i was a cop driving to the scene of a car accident, involving white trash dad in a stained wife beater who had crashed his mercury comet (i swear craig i'm not making that part up) into a telephone pole and his kids were in the backseat. each time a different cop car passed by the scene, i momentarily became the cop driving past, until finally i was the dad behind the wheel of the car. actually, it might have been a dodge dart, come to think of it. anyways. the car managed to defy all reasonable laws of physics as most objects in dreams are oft to do. as the car sped away, i went back to being the original cop that i had started off as. as i drove along, i passed by what looked like parts of del amo mall down in torrance. i swung around into the joint parking lot of a bank and donut shop, and as i got out of the car, i got into the passenger side of a 59' cadillac as my regular old self. sitting next to me was mary, and it took me a second to get my bearings.

    the car drove off, and during the ride i started cuddling with mary. i began to run my fingers through her hair at which point she suddenly moved away. there was a bit of tension in the air. quickly shrugging it off, i looked back at the front of the car, which had now become this giant bus/tank thing and i was now standing off to the side of a couch that the driver was sitting on. there was a giant tarp over the windshield which the driver (a grrl) had to lift up a bit to see the road out ahead of her.

    who knows what the fuck was going on there? i sure as anything can't figure out what any of that meant. more likely, it was one of those dreams where your mind is just going through excess neurons and happens to accidently combine a lot of unusual things together all at once.

    go figure.

    i added some more links off to the side. yay for me! i'll prolly have a lot more over there at some point, but this is a fair start for now.

    damnit. work interferes with opportunity yet again. nick offered me a chance to work with him at a doubleheader shooting photos, but unfortunately the day he had available is the first day of our third major show. i hate this job, i hate it. i'm so gonna go psycho after a week of this. there's really no additional motivation to do all the work, really. when you realize that our group alone is making 75 grand off all the shows combined, and then throw in that none of us or even our OFFICE will see a dime of that money is simply ridiculous. what i mean here is that, the corporate office in another state will end up receiving all the income and we don't get dick. so, instead of rewarding an office for their hard work with the money they earned to do things for that office, it simply gets filed into a cabinet in the mid-west to be eventually embezzled into the off-shore account of some greedy vice-executive.

    and the office could really use the money, too. even though they have been getting new equipment (only took 9 months since the requests were made), there is still a lot could be done to make it much better. i refuse to align myself with the office anymore and instead will henceforth refer to it as a separate entitiy of which i am not part of. after all, i do hope to find more gainful and pleasant employment in the somewhat immediate future.

    that or i need to start beating the shit out of inspiration herself until she coughs up a film script i can go do. until then, i just sit here all dry on ideas.

    oh bother.

    hopefully i get out of work before 10:30 tonight. i've begun to appreciate the late night family guy and futurama viewings our family has adopted as a daily ritual.

    oh, that's the other thing with this job. considering how wildly the schedule door swings, i can't do anything to establish any sense of a regular social or otherwise life. for instance, our family has begun the habit of taking walks after dinner in an effort to make ourselves more fit and it's something we enjoy. however, since some of the time i am working during the night and other times during the morning, i can't really establish a set routine or get myself into the pattern since the pattern is too infrequent to be of any use.

    when i am working nights, i have no time to conduct a social life. since a social life is the ONE THING i fucking need right now, this is especially infuriating. nobody's doing anything during the day; THEY'RE AT WORK! when everyone is off being social, I'M AT WORK! this totally blows, man. the one thing i would like to do is hang out more with what few friends i do have that live within convenient hang out range, and yet i can't even do that. throw that in the pile with other annoyances like i have no time to play drums anymore, my job has taken a "fuck you" attitude to my religion by being assholes and trying to force the issue of me working on sunday mornings, and that i have been plagued with a lack of creative ideas for anything and all i am basically reduced to is a slave. since a slave's life was work and little else, that essentially is what my life has dissolved to at this point. i go to work, i come home. due to the horribly awkward hours of employment, i have little to no energy to actually DO anything when i'm not stuck at work. obviously there are some differences between my lot and that of slavery. i have possessions, and somewhat limited free will. i say limited because with the way my job schedules me, there isn't really time to execute anything willful on my part. whoever came up with the concept of this job really needs to be lynched. that would work. a good long lynching to make that asshole suffer.

    pray that i get to soon escape from the hellhole that is this occupation. i need all the help i can get.

    almost forgot (edited four days later!) that today is fred willard's b-day. yay! that guy doesn't just chew scenery, he vomits it back up all over the screen. :-P

  • 9.17.2003

    and the man at the back said everyone attack and it turned into a ballroom blitz 

    i haven't blogged too terribly much in the last day or so.

    this would be partially due to my job gearing up for the next three weeks from hell's patio. we start a major event this weekend that runs into next week, and then we have one day between that show and the next show, which will be about the same size and require the same long hours of strenuous labor. just as that second show ends, we head into our third event which will round out a 15-day straight work period. i'm prolly accurate in assuming that this is my last day off for the next half month.

    which is a cause for great infuriation, because as it stands, i'm the only one currently scheduled to work ALL fifteen days in a row. since they can't spare any labor (or at least, my meager attempts at it), i'm likely to be stuck with dealing with all this bullshit for next two weeks. throw on top of this the fact that the company is deciding that they don't want to pay overtime hours anymore; they instead consider any ot you work to be a part of your 40 hours a week until you pass the 40 hour mark, at which point they will start paying ot. that is, if they work you more than 40 hours a week, but knowing this company i wouldn't be surprised if they cut people loose right at that point and have them take enough time off to wait until the next payweek. either that, or i wouldn't put it past them to begin altering the timecards to show a person *only* working 40 hours a week, which several properties have been known to do. damnit. why do i end up with the shitheads all the time?

    just squished a bug on my desk. now my desk has slimy goo and entrails all over. blech.

    it's now official. i have made mom into a huge family guy fan. success. :-D

    despite their saying it's now longer lasting, the flavor of juicy fruit *still* manages to disappear after about five minutes or so. what is it about that particular flavor that they can't get it to linger? they can put men on the moon, but they can't make a gum that holds it's flavor for a reasonable amount of time. wankers.

    the dude in the cafeteria almost didn't give me dinner last night at work, cuz he had seen me hanging out with my co-workers there earlier in the afternoon and thought i had already eaten then. the fact that he has a language issue (i.e., can't understand english) made it difficult to convince him that "no" in fact i had not yet forcibly swallowed the buck and half's worth of jailhouse slop they dole out. that cost isn't covered by us, rather it's generously paid for by management, as they realized that their employees needed to consume at least some form of previously organic substance to maintain a high work ethic. ocassionally they have really good food, but most of the time it's the lowest possible denominator as far as table scraps go.

    shout out to craig w out there. he rang me up the other night, and brightened up what was otherwise a garishly boring evening by providing a really good conversation. he moved back out to the mid-west a while ago, trying to make it onto the policeforce of his hometown. he has already taken his first test, and has a few more before finding out if he gets accepted to the academy. best of luck to ye dude!

    i posted a political rant on another guy's blog; i'll prolly copy and paste that over to here at some point. in the meantime, i'm now gagging on the "gilroy special" jelly belly garlic jelly bean. wow. garlic is cool, but damn this is majorly strong. *eyes bugging out*

    the following was a rant i posted on waferbaby in response to people's comments about how they would change the music industry:

    the music industry does require a change, but the change won't come from any concious effort directed solely at making a change.

    the history of music has always been based on the whole concept that it can be completely changed, redone, rethought, remixed, rewrote, but all of this happens the majoirity of the time purely by accident. people in the 80's didn't say to themselves "hey, let's all make electronic music and define our era!" it simply happened. band x liked what band y was doing, so they started doing something similiar and before you know it, everyone is part of this big nameless moving force that nobody has any real control over.

    just because music industry execs are greedy and power hungry at the moment doesn't mean that music has gone completely stale or that the industry is gonna tank. do you honestly think that the giant record labels are destined to crumble to the ground? get real.

    there is plenty of good music out there in the world. stop relying on the radio or music critics to tell you what good music is. go out and find it! there are countless bands all over the place that are dying because people out there have this mentality that if it's not played on the radio, available in a store, or touring nationally, it's not worth listening to. people who hold that belief are what can damage music.

    bandwagonners and posers are also damaging to music. if you say you like a band simply because it's "hip" to like that band, the record companies take notice of that and saturate the scene with that particular style. you end up with a situation where the music that you never really liked in the first place becomes the defacto standard that everyone wants to be.

    summary: you are not important enough or strong enough to bring down the enitre corporate music industry or it's greedy capitlist leaders

    we now return to our regularly scheduled life

    oh... and bring back soundgarden damnit

  • ground control to major tom 

    my latest photoshop of the moment: funny

    upon closer inspection it appears blogger accidently deleted one of my earlier posts.


  • 9.15.2003

    come around eleven we're still on our way home; all dressed up and nowhere to go 

    sometimes, just as you are finally succumbing to the massive pull of exhaustion on your frail mortal self, you're halfway in this state of closing your eyes and trying to allow the world to slip away. you feel groggy; intoxicated yet no alcohol is present to lay blame; it's merely your own body shutting itself down after having spent it's last reserves of sugar. conversations on the television sound distant, almost like they are taking place a million miles away and you are experiencing the program in somewhat tunnel-like vision. you periodically lose consciousness for a few seconds at a time, so if you were indeed previously watching something on tv, all of a sudden the programming begins traveling forward at a massive rate of speed, often times omitting entire scenes in favor of getting you to the end that much more rapidly.

    it's about this time that a muscle deep within your leg begins to twitch and get restless. as you are about to finally close your eyes for the last time and slip into a dream-induced world of grandeur..... INVOLUNTARY MUSCLE ACTION!!!

    your leg leaps out from the side of your bed, as it desparately attempts to release itself from the unexpected surge of control impulses, spasmatically slamming your calf into the side of your desk which is conveniently placed right next to the bed.

    kinda like how life is.

    more useless realizations that fail to serve me in any useful/meaningful way: i know now what i expect as far as romance goes. i'm desperately seeking the moment when some grrl and i encounter love at first sight. this is why i get so upset when chicks fail to notice me; how can they be allowing for instant love if they aren't even paying attention? however, this is an absurdedly idle delusion. there is no such thing as love at first sight. at least, not as far as i am concerned. if this were indeed the case, at least one chick by now would have made vocal her feelings/intentions to me. there has been no such action. love is by and large mostly a farce at this point in time. our parent's generation may have been able to find love quite abundantly, but much in the same way that the world is evolving beyond a point where most previous generations are able to recognize it anymore, so is the same paradigm shift occurring in the matters of emotions/romance and love. this is due in part to all of the sexual revolutions and freedoms which, as desirable an era to be alive during (from a libido's standpoint), have caused massive irrepairable damage to the romantic landscape.

    love has given way to casual sex, and not much more beyond that. it would seem to me that a large number of relationships and marriages that i have witnessed in recent years are based primarily on sex; no doubt this is major contributor to increasingly higher divorce rates. this would be indicated by the fact that most relationships currently either thrive or suffer from both the abundance or lack of sexual involvement. love has ceased to exist. the criteria for finding a significant other have become chiefly fixated now on the superficial, and not necessarily on individual feelings or emotional developmentation. but yet, i feel it goes far beyond just the here and now. i find it hard to believe that ever did exist such a time when the whole romance scene was actually ever in a decent state of being. it's nice to believe that there at some point existed a world where people actually loved each other, and for reasons that were on a much higher socially emotional plateu. the fancifulness of this ideal is far too storybook in nature to ever seem practical.

    i accuse hollywood. typically i refrain from placing blame on giant faceless entities as this is definitely a gutless move in an attempt to remove all personal responsibility for an issue, but in this case i feel i can make the exception. films depict a world of romances that are saved at the zero hour, or that exist under such false pretentions that they would never possibly work in a world revolving on practicality. and in the end, most films tie romance and love back to sex anyway. the films that do manage to avoid stomping upon such grounds depict ideal situations and perfectly scripted worlds which are far from any normal existence. there is no magical moment when two people first realize that they are destined to be together forever. there is no passionate burning deep in the emotional well that yearns for the presence of a person of affection. relationships just do not work in such a manner.

    yet, my quandry is this: a large part of how you develop is by imitating what you see others do. when you are an infant and see a slightly older child who is priviledged enough to be freed from the shackles of leaky waste collection bags crudely strapped to their ass, you immediately feel the urge to reach that stage in your life and make significant steps to acheive this new enlightened state of being. the first time you see an adult doing a task that piques your interest, you long to be able to do what they do. we go through life manipulating past experiences to base our future manerisms upon. since i grew up watching an inordinately large volume of television and film, i have been tainted by the false emotional world that the entertainment industry proclaims should exist in this world. hence, i have these false hopes and ideals for how and what love should be, yet my motivations and ambitions are based in a realm that does not deal with things realistically. this leads to my feeling hopelessly awkward when there are moments in my life that emulate those out of films; i exhibit extreme degrees of anxiety since i am first off, unprepared to deal with these feelings in any reasonably mature fashion, and also because as i strive to make my life geniune, i feel that anytime anything remotely approaches emulating a scene in a movie, my life has taken on a fake persona and is no longer functioning in a normal way. i can only describe the situation akin to deja vu, but to a much more uncomfortable degree and significantly more intense.

    i often find myself using dialouge from a film in normal conversation withough being conciously aware, and then later feeling extremely insecure about who i am and how i have come to be the person i am. it's not that i'm thoroughly digusted with who i happen to be; but at times i feel an overwhelming nausea at the realization that a significant part of who i am is the integration of what i have seen portrayed by actors in fictional situations. this tends to create the self-induced illusion that i hate who i am, when in fact i merely despise this particular aspect of my character.

    but i guess there's not much i can do to change that. i've been too patterned by the entertainment industry to be able to change. and i don't really give a shit either, to be perfectly honest. such is the degree of contradictiveness in which i exist.


    i'm gonna go watch wayne's world.

  • 9.13.2003

    daddy's gonna pay for your crashed car 

    let me tell you a little story, children. gather round. this is where life opens up it's gigantic anus and proceeds to unload mounds of fecal matter all over my head.

    act one: black car, blue car. one car, two. our car was black. her car was blue. she hit the gas, when backing up - instead of the brake! oh what are we all to do?

    act two: once upon a time, that black camry was parked perfectly in it's own space. now it's in two parking spaces. see? the camry got greedy.

    climax!: this one's a tragedy, folks. our heroine (the camry) dies.

  • 9.12.2003

    heard it from another room, eyes were waking up just to fall asleep 

    my life is one big cruel fucking joke.

    so, the jury returned a verdict as to whether or not i can make it to the hometown faire in oct down in mb. i'll let you figure out how it ended up.

    then, just for good measure, my life decides to throw a wrench into the massive machine by having my parents decide that they do want to indeed go down to redondo beach for pastor paul's last sunday at resurrection. this would be fine and dandy for us all to go, save for the fact that i have to work the weekend of the proprosed trip, and it took me immeasurable amounts of haggling to just get *this* weekend off.

    you may not see it at the moment, but we now have a dillemma. i cannot go to so cal for hometown faire. i have an *opportunity* to go to so cal next weekend, however, i am working and can't get out of it. someone better be getting a good laugh over this one.

    FUCK. words can't even begin to describe how massively enraged i am by these turns of events. i mean, sure. i can accept the fact that my life is consigned to utter misery, but is it too fucking much to grant me a slight few things that actually work out the way i want them to? my rage is building to intoxicating levels at the moment; i feel like i may go and destroy something just to make me feel better. i take pleasure from hardly anything at all in this life; truly what fucking reason is there left for me to cling onto this dank shithole?

    i don't understand how good fortune can happen to so many people, and yet all i get are at best a few days worth of happiness every several years. it's getting to be way too much of a burden to actually wait around for anything good to happen to me. what really is the point? you can't sit there and tell me i should just go about my life because there is a gamble that in two years, i might be happy for a week or so.

    don't mistake this for a suicide threat. furthest from my mind is killing myself; what end does that serve? i can do far worse than dying by my own hands. it's partly why i've shut myself down over the last four months. i really don't have any reason to put any effort into anything at all when i've been constantly proven that any attempt i make at anything will ultimately lead to failure. why bother trying? the very definition of insanity is repeating the same actions over and over, yet expecting a different result each time. at some point, i have to concede that all the times i attempt anything are just fuel for a clinical diagnosis. does that make any sense to anyone other than myself?

    what adds total insult to injury is that the rest of the world takes a blaise stance to my plights. you know what? i know that my problems are not the greatest or most important in the world. does this mean that my problems are any less significant as far as seen on an individual level? should i just accept my life with a grin knowing that there are people who die in gutters and starve while i at least have access to decent nutrition? what the fuck am i supposed to do?

    in a fairly expected human capacity, i have to wonder as to why my life is the way it is. some would say that life just *is* and there is no right or wrong to it. i say that that's bullshit. i know that life is that way, yet it keeps trying to force me to believe that it has this massive grudge against me. that of course would be bullshit as well, but i still can't deny that i don't feel that way.

    imagine being trapped inside a giant cardboard baler that is slowing pressing down. you know that at some point, the hydraulic ram will eventually overcome you and crush you in one fell swoop, but for the moment, it's moving downwards upon you at a very steady pace. just enough that you begin to feel the pressure of the device start to exhibit upon your frame. not enough to kill you for now... it's not ready to do that just yet. it will take it's own time.

    and you can't reach out of it to hit the off switch.

  • oh i must have been a dreamer (to have dreamed of you) 

    only serving as further confirmation that the moments spent in REM sleep are merely gateways to another dimension, my nightly visions have become more and more real (as if that were even possible at this point). in fact, about the only real thing i got going for me now is that my dreams are super realistic to the point that i am pretty much in truth living another life after i succumb to the exhaustion that plagues me in this world.

    ewww.... there are flecks of something on my screen. i'm not entirely sure but they look like the remains of insects i may have absentmindedly ground into the flat panel of glass. speaking of which, they must be doing something weird with glass manufacturing now, because it's damn hard to clean this screen unless you have tons of ammonia laden cleanser. my last monitor usually just needed a quick blast of spit to produce a near factory condition shine. progress is a bitch.

    being that today was my only opportunity for the next two weeks or so to remove a significant amount of organic mass from high on top of my skull, i slunk on over to the local supercuts only to be reminded throughout the duration of my trim of the grrl who had moved here in spring. she cut my hair the first day she was workin there, and she practically threw herself all over me by saying "i'm new in town" and "what's there to do" and of course "jump in my pants you hot, hot fuckable beast of a man." heh, oh wait. she didn't say that last comment literally, but i could tell by her eyes that she wanted to use me as a cheap sex toy all over her luscious body. too bad i didn't take the hint that time and walked away, leaving her all blue cunt'd. HA! THERE! HOW DO YOU CHICKS LIKE IT?????

    oh wait. i'm the one who lost out in that situation..... damn. vengeance is a bitch.

    amusing moment of the day was watching dad hose down the wasp nest lodged in between the wooden paneling outside the house tonight with a can of wasp killer. bout thirty of those fuckers came tumbling down to the cruel earth from whence they came. which makes me question why the fuck there are even wasps or yellow jackets in the world. i can see why honeybees are around; they serve some vital purposes (i.e. helping flowers get their swerve on) but wasps and yellow jackets really have no purpose other than to attack you at random and continually sting you until your swollen, venom ingested carcass collapses on the floor. insects are a bitch.

    i gotta work tomorrow from two until ten. since there is virtually gonna be nothing doings, i am taking the opportunity to use my digi cam to photograph as many texture maps as i can get of the hotel for eventual use in a counter-strike map. seeing as how my current inspiration is to work on the rail car and a train depot, i'll hafta put the hotel project on the backburners, but worry yourself not. in about three weeks or so, i'll lose total interest in the train map or suffer a complete loss of inspiration, at which point i'll move on to constructing roughly half of a workable map of a hotel until i throw all ambition away on that map and move on to some other concept. inspiration can be a total bitch.

    no status yet as to whether or not i will make it down to mb for the hometown faire. as much as i want to see erin down there and rip through a pallet of rubbers, it just may not be a reality (yet again) for me to be able to attend. guess i should start looking forward to *maybe* attending next year. hopefully then she won't be married to some ass or knocked up. man. life is a bitch.

    if you want some good tunes to listen to, the current playlist i got loaded on the ipod is live's album, throwing copper. actually, that's a lie. currently i got audioslave but mainly because i let it rest for a few months before returning to it to be refreshed. the rest of the time it's live. something about their sound that at the moment i can't get enough of. soundgarden breaking up was a bitch, man.

    that's all i got for now.


  • 9.11.2003

    moved down to scottsdale... where in the hell am i? 

    i got a bit of a blog coming on but family guy is coming up in five and seeing as how i have turned my mom into a fan, it is crucial for me to maintain my experiment.

    in the meantime.... here's the latest from worldcraft: the silver lariat in digital form

    i'll blog some more in a bit... hang in there and do get your panties in a bind (chicks with bound panties are fucking hot)...

  • 9.09.2003

    they call alabama the crimzon town.... call me deacon blues 

    so many people have yet to understand my obnoxious fixation on getting laid. hopefully this should remove any confusion.

    as is so portrayed and spoken about in numerous made-for-tv films, life is a very precious gift and should be treasured each day. time again we have been told that we should appreciate the moments since that is pretty much all that life is; interconnected moments that form a tapestry that more or less is considered our "life." hence, we should be thankful for each day that we are alive and to not take for granted that which we are given on a day to day basis. the key factor to take away from this is that we should live each day is if our last.

    now then. since there is no absolute gaurantee as to when our individual times will end, one can reasonably assume that you have a 50/50 chance of dying each and every day. anytime you successfully pass a 24 hour period without becoming a lifeless mass, one should consider themselves quite lucky.

    one of my goals in life is to have sex. i think it's safe to assume that most people have this on their agenda, it's a no brainer. hormones give way to this. yet, for every day i do not get laid, i have gambled against fate that i might actually live long enough to the next day, which of course doesn't hold too promising the aspect of getting tail either. despite it being hopeless shallow and extremely superficial, i would feel quite cheated if i were to die without ever having enjoyed some truly fine pussy.

    there is much more to life than just sex; i fully realize this. however, the task of getting down and doing the nasty with some dim-witted skank sits quite high on my list of things to do before i am ripped from the trappings of this mortal prison. the fact that the majority of the people i know have already done it is an even greater irratant. it wouldn't be such a great deal to me had i just gone and fucked some chick in jr high like any normal person. but no. i am far from normal. somehow, i have been plauged with this great fear of initiating any sexually explicit encounter. that so many people have already done it and quite long ago in their past just reduces my attempts to be more normal and makes me this freakish virginal outcast. this issue is only exponentially compounded by the inclusion of the knowledge that the majority of grrls my age have already had sex; i have not. this means that i am far less experienced then they, and i doubt that most grrls are really jonesening off the desire to be the instructor of libidous practices to some dork. just does not seem plausible.

    so we have a bit of a conflict. most grrls have had sex, and i have not. henceforth if i were to have sex with them, virtually impossible would it be to reduce the occurance of two major aftereffects; there would be a comparison drawn between my lackluster performance and encounters of their past, and as well, they would be so turned off by my lack of skill and experience that a repeat encounter's chance would be around the neighborhood of: zero.

    but that's just me.

    most days i would be quite embarrassed to see be my last. my life is so lacking in meaning at this point that my death would be nothing more than a statistic. today, some wanker died. big fuckin whoop. i would hate for my last 24 hours of existence to be spent at work.... that's a shitty last memory to hold. yet i fear that this may indeed by the case. considering the job i do is so unimportant in the grand scheme of life and bigger pictures and all that, it is pretty much pointless to continue to place what little vigor i do in it's completion. i feel no ambition to continue along this "career path;" i certainly do not want to be stick doing this shit for the rest of my life. rest of the year, for that matter.

    it's not like i can just go out there and get laid, either. i have managed to discover that i am more than capable of getting a grrl's attention and becomming friends with them, but is where it ends. merely in friendship. though i constantly see a good number of grrls look at me rather seductively (at least, i interpret that way... i could be way off in my estimation), there seems to be this void consisting mostly with lack of sexual interest towards me. i'm the kinda guy that grrls like to talk to; not rape like a diseased minx. and even if there was any degree of horniness inspired partway by myself, it would all be for naught seeing as how i am so timid in my approach towards sexuality that i wouldn't even get to first base with the majority of them. i tend to lapse into over-analyzation of any given situation, and during a period where sexual activity could very well begin, this is perhaps the worst place for such reflection. i lack the ability to just piss away any sense or logic and go with the heat. it's a trait that i fear will keep me a virgin well until after i am dead.

    the most i can hope for is that some horny young mortician co-ed gets off on being violated by my lucid corpse.

  • 9.08.2003

    and we don't bother anyone, we keep to ourselves 

    i really don't understand how pacifism works. in theory, it sounds like a great thing; total peace for the whole world and everybody is happy.

    in practice, i fail to see how this is possible. since there are some blood conflicts that have existed since before christ, i hardly think they will be resolved in any speedy fashion anytime in the reasonably near future. that could just be my pessimism at work, but really. explain to me this:

    how do you sit back and do nothing, and expect peace to completely transform the world without any effort whatsoever? sounds a bit like maybe hopelessly believing in "magic" to come and resolve all our issues and problems. if you don't do any work towards peace, how can this in turn create peace? and then, indeed what work do you do in order to guarantee peace? i know, i know... peace cannot be guaranteed, yet this is what people would have us come to accept as being fact. that by sitting back and allowing our enemies to walk all over us and themselves, that somehow, it will create peace?

    pacifism as i understand it can only work so long as everyone involved actively practices pasifism. if even one person does not, then the rest are no longer a pacifist. they are just dead.

    fucking idiots, man.

    work sucked balls. there was nothing to do but bullshit lip service, essentially. since our storage room is already clean and finally organized, there really is no point to spend further amounts of time invested in cleaning it, yet my boss seemed to see fruit in such needless efforts. `least i got to listen to my ipod and use chasing amy as a calibration video to configure the settings on all the new monitors we got. i skimmed over all the boring, conversation-heavy parts and instead focused on the comedy, especially whenever jason lee happened to be on screen. he was about the only thing that saved that film, and i'm not entirely sure if even his insanely great delivery and comedic stylings can vainly save that train-wreck of kevin smith's personal life turned inspired skeleton/in/closet cleaning.

    i have been handed first hand information that the majority of the grrls hanging out at the clubs in reno are around college freshmen age. i say it's time for a major roadtrip to neveda to father countless scores of bastard children.

    after work today i had to take a nap. morning shifts completely blow. i'm first and foremost definitely not a morning person, and this is aggitated by the fact that i had to wake up at 5:30 this morning to get ready for work. bullshit. bullshit! i typically do not feel awake until well after 10a, and by then my shift at work is about a third over. even though i may now be fully aware and concious, it doesn't mean i'm in a very personable mood. if i were a coffee drinker, i would prolly be pissing like a racehorse by about noon, and then once every half hour or so after. when i get off work during a day shift, i return to the outside world where this foreign yet inescapable bright luminescence relishes in torching my retinas and infecting my epidermis with all kinds of nasty cancerous growths. the abundance of ominpresent warmth only makes my state of waking weaken, as in quite feline form i begin to lose conciousness whenever my body temperature feels as if it has risen considerably beyond the frozen depths that my cold heart tries vainly to keep it at. throw in a half hour (sometimes more) drive home and we have almost the final ingredients for a massive and bloody art deco scene on the northbound 101 freeway.

    oh boo hoo for me. yeah. i suck.

  • 9.07.2003

    i am free in all the ways you are not 

    i fucking hate existence right now. i don't want to be concious, i don't care to be aware.... i don't enjoy life.

    fuck everything and everybody.

    that includes you.

  • 9.06.2003

    scarry judge of character 

    i got a little bored in this last half hour waiting for the group to finish, so i tried my hand at a lil' paint artwork again.

    it's been a while since i've used paint, but it came right back. too bad i only had three grays to work with and i wasn't too particularly interested in really perfecting the image at this point.

    walter burke

    yay for me.

  • were' not always doing business.... but we're always open 

    last night while a cavalcade of 80's music softly played from my computer, i had this dream. in this dream, i am riding in a car, dressed to the nines in a fine tuxedo. as the car is going along, i gradually begin to realize that i am in the back seat, right, of a jeep cherokee. that detail really isn't crucial, but helps establish the scene.

    it appears that the four of us in the truck are headed to some sort of high school reunion/prom like dance affair, and as i look forward to the front passenger seat, i see the unmistakable outline of a particular grrl. ocassionally, erin looks back at me, and keeps glancing at me as i pretend not to be aware of it. without anything being said, i can determine we are going to pick someone up; presumably her date for the event, though by the way she keeps eyeing me over, i get the distinct feeling that she would much rather be attending this event with me. i feel the same nervousness in my gut that i always exhibited around the real mccoy, the creation of what she currently might be like is so realistic i began to sweat and feel insanely dizzy, quite overwhelmed.

    stopping at a rather dilapidated grocer for last minute dance items (unfortunately not rubbers, just candy and soda), she steps outside of the store to a payphone that is visible out the store's front windows, and she and whitney fake making a phone call, while watching me as i pace back and forth down the aisle's in the store. as i turn towards the cash register, i see rich standing there paying for something. i shout out his name, and he looks. we both smile, i go over and punch him in the shoulder as has become our custom for greeting each other in real life. while conversing about the fact that his wife is now expecting, his brother paul walks up with some last minute items and we extend pleasantries as well.

    next thing i know, i am standing on the second level of a rather large house, that is split in the middle like a shopping mall. i can see the floor below me as well as the floor above; the house is shaped in an oval similiar to a football stadium. even though there are a number of doors on each of the hallways, there is a tremondous amount of glass that is letting in an almost eerie haze of light. as i stand there trying to get my bearings, michelle williams runs past me, crying. i follow her to her room, where she begins changing clothes, and crying that her gram's is... is... upstairs. i go down the hall, and follow an open staircase to the top floor where there is a balcony leading outside. in the very center, sits mary jo peihl, her eyes closed and almost certainly dead. i go back indoors, and down to the second floor to michelle's room, where i find her lying on her back in bed, completely nude. at this point, despite my not having removed any clothing, i too am now stark nekkid, and she motions for me to come over and hug her. i lie on her, feeling her exposed body against my own, and she weeps.

    it's around this point that the phone rings and i'm rudely drawn back into this world where a co-worker informs me of some changes with tonight's shift duties. after watching an annoying flash animation that rivera found, and nuking myself some mac & cheese, i end up sitting here in the office; three hours into my shift and about six more to go. at the moment, the next thing i have to worry about isn't until five o'clock, and once that gets running, i just have to baby-sit it until 10 when i can strike the equipment. until then......

    it's gonna be a long evening.

  • 9.05.2003

    .....i was walkin in, he was walkin out 

    so, this would be the sequel to the first post that i originally made earlier this morning but that blogger decided to unceremoniously destroy in a mere broken link.

    after a brief mix-up through payroll at work, i should be getting my paycheck deposited into my account in the hopefully near future. it all depends as to whether or not they can actually get their act together fairly quickly. damnit, i got obligations to avoid!

    i have been getting more and more bitter/angry in the past several months. i don’t know what exactly the catalyst was, but i finally figured out that pretty much anything now that bugs me is akin to the proverbial straw. just about anything can set me off on a rageful tangent, and yet i manage to control it enough to the point of just a minor outburst/reaction. in effect, i have been shelving my anger to the point where everything does set me off, and yet i then quickly bottle it up and keep it from ever reaching true critical mass. one day, i fear i won’t have such effective control over that, and the consequences i may regret for quite some time to come.

    while wandering through a second hand clothing store with ma after she suggested i get out of the house for a spell, i happened to notice a picture sitting on the floor behind some bags and other assorted items that revealed itself to be somewhat familiar. calling mom over to investigate, we discovered that the image was done by a guy that was great friends with my parents, and whose pieces we have in large supply throughout our house. after becoming thoroughly excited, mom decided to purchase the piece in honor of their friend, who has since passed on. i’m sure had the shopkeep learned of this fact much earlier, it would have been priced significantly more since regardless of whether or not an artist ever achieves massive social acclaim, a dead artist’s work can always fetch a more substantial price than the works of an artist still clinging to this mortal trapping.

    that was my one highlight for the day. the fact that mom was happy over finding that treasure made me happy, since at least for this day, i managed to prove my worth by serving as a connection to my parent’s past. wonder what i get to do tomorrow….

  • 9.04.2003

    mmmmmm.... flushing meadows.... 

    doncha just hate it when you are standing there shaving your face after almost forgetting to maintain an "upkept" appearance for work, when you feel the sudden urge to piss an amount slightly greater than that contained behind the ugly `crete slabs of the hoover dam?

    you rush into the commode, hastening to relieve yourself, and you find that your bladder simply does not want to go. it sits there quietly, wondering why in the hell you are just standing around when you are supposed to be rushing on your way to work. "burst forth like the mighty mississipp!" you declare in earnst. but no; the simple muscle that contracts to relieve you of excess urine merely sleeps. it is in no urgent rush to evacuate all the built-up sugar you have stored in there; he just doesn't have any need to do anything at the moment. you continute to stand there, feeling the massive burn of liquid waste as it desperately tries to inform you that it's more than ready to come out. hell, why should it be in such a hurry? you only just woke up two hours ago, having pissed a good one not more than an hour ago. it has to have time to catch up, to give itself an opportunity to rest before returning to it's laborious duty.

    you consign yourself to failure at this point, since it's obvious that your bladder has made up his mind not to cooperate in this circumstance. just as you begin to close your pants.... "I'M READY!" he bursts forth! almost creating a scene that would hence delay you even further from your already late departure for your occupation, you make it to the bowl just in time..... for nothing. false alarm. your bladder likes to tease with you; to fuck with you. he knows that he has ultimate power over your actions, since it is he that controls whether or not you go running for the nearest fixture. he's in cahoot's with your bowels, who are more than a bit irate at your inconsistent movement schedule. not like you have any control over that.

    the two laugh meniacally: they have both won. you shake your head in disgust, and once again you move away from the toilet. BUT WAIT! NOW might be the time. hurridley, excitedly, panicked; once again you are deposited in front of the porcealin throne. "oh your majesty! grant me asylum from this awful torment." you plead, a hint of despair in your voice. but it sits there; grinning in the way that it seems to. it has worked out a deal with your bladder as well; he's in on the game.

    ten minutes have now passed since this twisted little amusment began, courtesy of your digestive system. at last, you surrender; already more than slightly tardy, you slink away from the house like an irritable animal, curtly tossing aside your family's well wishes for your evening shift.

    and accept that you will have a horrible burning sensation in your loins for the rest of the day.

  • and shephards we shall be... for thee my lord, for thee 

    i had quite possibly the most twisted, fucked up dream ever possible last night. i don't think i even whanna type out the contents of such a vile piece of dreamland bullshit. it was just wrong upon wrong.

    blergh. i have work tonight. thankfully from what i am told, it's gonna be a slow night. least that's all good. i hate when it gets hella busy or when there are non-stop set/strikes going on until well after the time i was supposed to be able to leave. looks like i'm gonna be working more of a night shift at work, anyways. after careful solo deliberation, i have come to the conclusion that really, i don't like any shift, regardless of what the hours are. i am anti-occupation. that could be a bad thing if i want to make lots and lots of money in my life; but eh, hopefully the good folks at the state lottery commission will come through for me and hook me up.

    i might be going to mb yet for the hometown fair and for todd's b-day. after talking it over with the `rents, they might allow me to use the camry on my trip, since even though it gets worse gas mileage than the corolla, it does fairly well on long distance trips. not too mention cruising in that car would be quite badass for the whole trip. hopefully i don't damage it or get in trouble with like i have a penchance for doing lately whenever in the la area.

    when my alarm went off this morning, instead of hitting the "off" button like i normally do, i accidently hit the button to show the "set time" for the alarm function. so for about 3 hours, it remained 7:00 until finally at 9:30, i looked at the clock after being awoken by the clean-up crew here to remove the water under the house, and couldn't figure out for a few moments why they were here at 7a and why the sun was damned bright out so early.

    yay! the pumps and vacuums are running as i type, meaning that the fou water that has been playing host to all sorts of evil vapors is finally being removed! they say that the smell should be gone in a few days to a week, so i anticipate this date in the near future quite greatly.

    don't ever start reading the trivia notes for films on the imdb. i ended up staying up two extra hours last night, mindlessly accumulating all the worthless trivia that i possibly could on every film in my dvd collection. i think way too much of that has been incorporated into me now; i seem to recall some of the dreams last night having details that were actually trivia answers on imdb. no, the totally sick and twisted dream did not happen to have any imdb trivia details. it was just wrong upon wrong.

    i seriously do wish i had more interesting things to say on here. i've had a few good posts, but it seems like the majority of what i am posting is just boring ass shit. i'll hafta do something about that. maybe i'll seduce the shipping grrl at work later on today; she's quite a cutie and got a really nice looking ass. but then again, pretty much any female has got a good looking ass at this point. actually, no; i take that back.

    how is it that some women have an ass that stretchs like two feet tall and is horribly out of proportion???? how can someone fuck up something like their ass? all it is is a huge deposit of fat. aside from sitting wrong and forcing it to stay in an irregular shape, i fail to see how an ass can come out looking so awful. it really is quite a shame. then again, most women over 20 seem to forget the difference between the shorts that flatter their legs and ass, and the ones that do. chicks who wear shorts down to their knees look stupid. shorts should be all about showing just the very bottom of their perfect curve. i love that space; where a grrl's ass meets her legs. there is just something inticing about the lines down there. not like i'll ever get to whitness this area up close and personal ever, but it is quite a sight to behold. ass.

    i had some other really odd dreams last night, in addition to the filth fest whose contents i shall never speak of. one of them involved me loading some stuff up into the back of an 84 ford station wagon, and as i was going to get the next piece of whatever it was i had to load into it, bro hopped into the car with a friend and drove off. which left me with a rather sizeable amount of crap that i had no wheels to move about with. i ended up having to push the container on the ground (without wheels on it) to our old house in redondo, only to remember halfway up the hill that we live in our new place now. why i thought we lived in that house, i have no idea. i haven't been inside that house for around five years now. so, i had to start pushing the box back downhill, when some dude asked if i wanted any help getting the stuff to the seven blocks over where the new house is (which is funny.... the house we just moved into is considerably more than seven blocks from our place in redondo... but interestingly enough IS in fact seven blocks away from the last house we moved out of up here....).

    we some really good eatin's last night. we tried a new recipie, a garlic pepper vodka chicken that was really, really, really spicy. you hafta hit the can a few hours after eating this stuff cuz it tears through your intestines like a snow plow. it was really good and had a really intense flavor; i liked. we're gonna make it again but this time cut back on the proportions of the the spices (like, ten varieties of pepper) since the rest of the family all thought it shouldn't be nearly as spicy. thankfully, mom didn't put sour cream into the mashed potatos like she originally was planning. sour cream is nasty.

    it doesn't seem like anything truly inspired is gonna come flowing from my hands into this thing for now, so i'm gonna quit now before i get way too behind.

    i'm not quitting for good. i'll be back later.

  • 9.03.2003

    .....sat around laughing and watching the last one die 

    i really, really hate hangers. almost as much as i hate people.

    had a few really interesting dreams last night.

    first one was a lot longer and more 'epic' in it's nature; i was on a roadtrip with a buncha other people in this beat up old bus that we had converted to a motorhome like truck. it was pretty badass... there were lots of hijinks and for some reason we were on the lam from johnny law. i can't recall the circumstances involved in ending us up in that predicament. i do know that i was always chewing gum, all the time. there were some hot chicks on the bus too; we kinda all just passed them around whenever we saw fit. truly hardcore and quite badass.

    the second one involved winning tickets to a foo fighter's show and sitting in the very front row, like, almost dead center. within spitting distance of dave grohl. that was also pretty cool. i just looked for my copy of the one fighter's cd; it sadly does not appear to be anywhere near. damn, and i want to rip it for the ipod...

    i eventually woke up at noon. today is the second day in a row i have done that.... i really need to curb that habit right now. if i'm to be working all night shifts at work :-(, then i need to get up earlier so i can at least appreciate some of the day on my own time.

    i thought i had more to update on, but i guess not. i'll come back later and drop some more nouns, adverbs, and punctuation.

    meanwhile, craig has found a cool new way to run the old doom games and have them run really nicelike.

  • 9.02.2003

    slurp slurp slurp 

    after we called in and had some much smarter plumbers take a look at our current situation, they determined that the smell is not actually the result of human bile, but is purely the water from the garbage disposal and showers. more the bi-product of various shampoos, soaps, and food matter sliced up from the kitchen than any caustic nitrates.

    the pumping of said water should begin in a day or so, with the pipe being replaced in about that much time as well.


    craig made it back to la in safety and in record time, around 13 hours or so total trip. considering most of the travel from abq to la is completely desolate, god-forsaken stretches of long forgotten sheets of asphalt, one can prolly maintain a pretty high rate of speed without flagging the attention of bored highway patrol officers.

    my dreams have become increasingly more manhattan beach in their themes. every night i see more and more familiar faces from way way back in the day. this morning i sufered a dream in which i kept being woken up by my alarm clock (in real life) and hitting the snooze button to which the dream was interrupted a good number of times. each time, whenever i returned back into the dream, people would ask me where i had went or what was going on with me disappearing. i can't for the life of me remember the contents of the dream, yet i do know well enough that i was pretty desperate to return to the dream each time i was awoken. finally about the fifth time or so that the alarm went off i just said fuck it and switched on dawson's on tbs. i fell back asleep and missed the first hour but managed to wake myself up enough to suffer a monster neck cramp from watching the second hour in an awfully contorted position on my couch.

    it turns out that our new houseguest has about two more weeks stay at his old place until the paperwork is finalized and they are thrown out for good. so we must wait a bit before he arrives at our door and is integrated into our family. fortunately by that time, we should have the nasty vapor completely removed from our house.

    even though my dreams have focused increasinly more so on manhattan beach, i am facing the serious prospect that i may not be going there yet again this year. since i need a valid credit card and not one merely tied to a bank account in order to rent a car, i am faced with few options as to how to negotiate this trip. i can't really afford to take any of our cars down to la at the moment. the mileage on the corolla has to be kept at a minimum so as not to incur the wrath of the toyota leasing group, and the camry is in no way economical since a heavy ass car like that suckles gas harder than monica lewinski chugs the man juice.

    and i sure as shit am not gonna take my car again. the third time i was in la with my car i got pulled over by a cop; the fourth time was when i crunched my quarter-panel on that asshole's pickup. like a pavlov experiment, i have been conditioned enough not to risk taking my car a fifth time. the first two times actually went pretty flawlessly other than by the time i returned home each time i barely had enough money in my account to supply fuel to reach our driveway.

    even if i were to fly down to the la, there is still the issue of transportation. taxi's cost way too much and i'm not about to set off walking from lax to redondo (where i would stay with some friends), especially with luggage in tow.

    so this does leave me with quite the quandry. ultimately, i think i may have to forgo the whole travel thing and just wallow in yet another lost opportunity to see the grrl with whom i feel deeply connected to. but we already knew this would be the end result of such a grandiose scheme anyways.

    it would seem is if the universe does not want me to watch "that 70's show." despite my newfound afinity for it, circumstances always conspire to the point of keeping me from being able to view it. i could tape record it, but i don't have any video tape (too lazy to drive to the store to get some) and seeing as how i don't have a vtr in my room, i would basically hafta wait until after everyone in my family went to bed to watch it since the living room television is pretty much occupied from about 6pm until midnight most days. too much hassle involved. i really do need to get a tivo.

    bleararggh. <-- excuse me.

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