you're rambling on, no end in sight 


despite the fact i don't much care for will farrell, his and jack black's lyrics for the "get off the stage" song at the oscars were pretty damn funny.

mostly because of jack black.

and the musicians.

anyways, they touched on my points exactly.


  • that ain't working, that's the way you do it 

    you gotta feel sympathy for the non-famous people who win the lesser oscars.

    if you're not all that popular in hollywood, or don't have a big name, when you get up on stage nobody has any idea who you are and i bet most home viewers get antsy waiting to see more shots of their favorite stars instead of these strange losers/winners.

    it's the biggest night of some of those people's lives, and the majority of hollywood could care less so long as they don't overstay the welcome of the forty seconds or so that they are given to thank an endless number of people.

    if craig and i ever win an oscar at some point in our hopefully promising film careers, i'm half tempted to flip off a major star.

    we'll see...


    mitch & mickey are singing at the oscars!!!!!


    this awards ceremony just got a thousand percent better.

  • we huddle close, hang on to a dream 

    on the way to dulles international, my dad rode in the cab of a native south african who moved to the us thirteen years ago.

    the man had moved here with the intention of becomming a full fledged citizen, and when he had saved up enough money, went back to africa to marry his girlfriend and bring her to america to live together.

    they just recently experienced the joy of having their first child; a healthy baby girl.

    when my dad congratulated him, he thanked my dad and said:

    "people complain about taxes and such. i am more than glad to pay whatever taxes to live in a land of such opportunity."

    a portion of his paycheck is saved in an account for his daughter to eventually attend college. he informed my dad that, if she had been born in south africa, she might never have had half the chances he believes she now has living on american soil.

    it's nice to hear that some people appreciate this country, rather than being ashamed of it.

  • 2.28.2004

    only you could ever know, how hard it was for me to let you go 

    i think i'll take advantage of this freak instance of our internet connection actually working to make a quick post.

    had this really odd dream this morning.

    i've been working for an intel group for several months, and one day i decide to bring my family into the office to show them around/give a tour, etc. even though everybody in the building looks pissed that i brought non-employees past the lobby, security let us through and didn't say anything negative.

    all of the employees that we passed glared at us when we walked by, and all of them were listening to discman, all playing the same song. i was leading the family down a hallway which i walked everyday, since it led to where my small broom closet like office was, yet when we got to the end of the cramped hallway, there were no doors. everything was different.

    bewildered at where my office had gone, i lead the family back through to the front desk, where i was informed by my boss that i was fired for violating company premises. we left to go home.

    sitting in my room a few days later, i realize that i still had yet to give back the government issued shoes that i had on me when i came home after being fired. i drove back to the complex to drop them off with security, when a crazy woman bursts through the door and pulls back her trench coat, revealing several pounds of high explosive strapped to her person. fearing for my life, my gut reaction was to kick her square in the chest, back through the front door which i promptly shut, and then leap on top of the chap at the front desk to bring him down to the ground as the explosives went off, sending bits of shrapnel and debris everywhere.

    when i open my eyes, i am sitting in a totally black room with shiny, reflective walls. there are no visible sources of light; it appears to eminate from all around.

    surely, i must be dead.

    as i gained hold of my senses, i come to realize i am sitting in a giant half globe chair. in front of me is a low, circular black table that upon closer inspection appears to be made of granite.

    sitting on the table, is a stack of what look like giant cd's. indeed, when i move closer to inspect them, they are discs, but about an inch thick each, a foot or so in width, and composed of glass. i pick up the stack, and as i do i feel that the discs are lose. when i rub one disc over the top of another, it feels like when you have fresh cd-r's straight out of the pack; there's a little bit of friction and they aren't too willing to separate.

    for some reason, hard disk platters come to mind.

    "do you know where you are?"

    the sound startles me; i look up to see another globe with a man sitting partially obscured by shadows from the overhang at the top of the chair. i don't answer him.

    "you passed the test. you are in."

    a pause.

    "i'm in what?"

    "that will be answered in time." he smugly replies. i can't see it, but from the way his voice sounds, there is a grin on his face.

    "those discs you have there. that's your memory. it's you."

    i quizzically look at him as i slowly place the stack down upon the table.

    "we download the brain contents of all agents who make it this far." he explains. "everything you know can be accessed by computer with those discs."

    "even my...... my memories....." i start to inquire. "of erin?"

    "yes." during the first few moments of our conversation, a tall woman in a black dress has entered the room.

    "even those."

    the figure in the chair glances casually to the woman for a moment. "i imagine you have many questions."

    i sit and think for a few moments.

    "the woman at the headquarters... that was staged?"

    a nod from the man.

    "and this is some higher form of intelligence gathering..... an unknown branch of the government?"

    another nod.

    "does my family believe me to be dead?"

    the man coughs. "no, they do not think you are dead. just being debriefed for now."

    i contemplate for a moment. looking down at the discs, it takes me a moment to comprehend that all of my life has been stored in digital form.

    with determination, i looked back up.

    "so where do we go from here?"

    blah. my alarm clock wakes me up and i'm laying on my couch, trying to figure out what the fuck just happened off in dreamland.

    gots more to post after work saturday afternoon.

  • 2.26.2004

    danger danger! high voltage! when we touch, when we kiss 

    because the internet was down, cable was out, and the power kept flickering on and off last night from the thunder/lightning storm raging around san mateo, we decided to drive out to half moon bay and check out the tremendous swells on the pacific ocean.

    the cops were out in force, making sure there weren't any suicidal surfers trying to get themselves plastered all over the rocks.

    had some good hot apple cider today. this crepiere opened up nearby, and we sampled their menu for lunch.

    got lost for a bit up in san bruno to get the rear bumper of our toyota camry examined by the employee of an auto body shop that accidently hit the back of our car at a toll booth yesterday on the san mateo bridge after mom took dad to the oakland airport. that car seems to be a magnet for getting into scraps.

    it's because our camry tempts fate.

    and has no fear.

    she's that cool.

    anyways, the nice thing is since the guy who hit it works *for* an auto body shop, he is more than willing to repair it free of charge, although still i wonder if it wasn't just a ruse to drum up more business for them. hmm.

    if you haven't already, go check out lauren, whom was kind enough to give me a mention in her entry the other day.

    and also, props still go to becca for all the cool comments she leaves and responses to my comments on her blog.

    and because her site just rocks.

    i gots rehearsal to get me to at the moment.

    oh, and if the lyric/title of this entry isn't familiar, you know what to do.

  • 2.25.2004

    a billion robot lives are about to be extinguished, oh the jedi are gonna feel this one 

    for quite some time now, i have been aware of a sixth sense regarding computers and electronics.

    sometime around five this morning, i jolted awake and instinctively looked over at the desk where my computer was happily playing back the eighty’s playlist through my stereo. a few seconds later, we lost power for about a minute or so, then everything came back on again. the power dipped and spiked a few more times before returning to normal.

    i hesitated a few moments before turning my baby back on, waiting to make sure the power was back for good before subjecting her to another unexpected shutdown.

    thankfully i managed to get it back on before the ball bearings in the fan seized up, otherwise it would have greatly disturbed the remaining hour of semi-sleep i vainly tried to get.

    there’s something odd about when the power goes out. the collective sigh almost, of electronic equipment being disconnected from the grid in tandem. realizing just how much noise everything in the modern world makes when it’s no longer present.

    it’s not uncommon that i wake up suddenly before a power outage. seems to happen anytime we experience one during the night.

    and either winamp can read my mind, or i can predict with fair accuracy what the random function in winamp will select next from the 400+ songs in my ultimate eighty’s collection without looking.

  • 2.24.2004

    when life is too much, roll with it baby 

    it would seem that i have a habit of witnessing strange incidences lately.

    as i started up the car and waited for dad to finish getting a refill at the wendy's on ralston, two cop cars drove up. one of them pulled in directly behind a parked car, blocking it in. the other parked in a space, and the officer got out.

    the cop that was still in his car eyed us carefully as i backed up and started to drive through the parking lot. before turning onto the street, the other officer walked slowly up to the building, out of sight from the dining room, and peered around the corner slightly to look in. he was talking on his radio and had his right hand close to his holster.

    perhaps it's a good thing we left when we did.

  • i came in here for that special offer, a guaranteed personality 

    last night, during a depressing trip to the mall where i saw lots of young, happy couples, i was amazed at how every other store in the place had been replaced with a teen clothing outlet.

    literally, there must have been twenty wardrobe shops on the first floor alone that all looked identical. and all of them were learning towards a disturbing trend; the clothes they were peddling looked uber skanky.

    the shopping mall wants to turn your daughter into a slut.

    and they got rid of this cool little music shop that i used to find obscure shit at.

    at least they still have the mrs. fields cookie stand.

  • 2.23.2004

    letting the days go by (water flowing under ground) 

    well, after a five day waiting period, a plumber finally did make his way round to our place. checked under the house and discovered that the drainage pipe for my bathtub had become disconnected from the water main, so essentially everytime i took a shower i was furthering adding to a large pool of water collecting under the floor.

    they hope to have the water pumped out and the pipe fixed in the next several days.

    i managed to get a few more hours for this week at work. boss from the hotel near stanford shopping center is having me come in for an interesting shift on wednesday; 9-12pm and then 6:15-10pm. at least they are hours and will help me make next month's car payment.

    and hopefully hajra is doing ok. i haven't heard from her in the last few weeks.

    time for artichokes and butter.

  • fire in the disco, there's a fire in the taco bell 

    confusion: the feeling one gets when two single people of opposite gender in the same town IM with each other about how they would like a fuck buddy, then both sign off to go watch tv. see also: ironic

  • i guess you're just what i (just what i needed) 

    two days delayed, i finally got to go for a drive down highway one along the sea.

    the pacific ocean sat off to my left, shrouded in sheer darkness.

    on the right; clouds hanging low in the sky, cast in a brilliant copper/bronze color from the lights of the bay area; cities which sat hidden behind the hills of the san andreas fault line.

    in between were my dreams and the unknown of the future that lay before me.

    my head is on fire.

    remind me not to nap for six hours in the middle of the day.

    or to get more than two hours of sleep the night before.

  • 2.22.2004

    the river was deep but i swam it 

    interesting day.

    while riding in the car with my brother, he popped in the rocky horror soundtrack. hadn't listened to that in prolly eight years or so.

    met an interesting gal who wielded knives and other cutting instruments. and was super, super hot.

    encountered a couple who were very much in love. it's rather awkward when two people get sloppy horny right in front of you and they don't seem to notice they are doing all of this in public. and by the way, it's extremely suspicious when both individuals slip off to the bathroom together after a dry-mounting session; just for future referrence.

    earlier this morning at costco, a taiwanese woman was screaming into her phone. she wasn't pissed off or anything, she just was shouting super loud, kinda like barking orders at a line of troops or something. at any rate, several people shopping nearby tried very hard to tune her out, and management seemed to be too intimidated to approach her about it.

    had to keep restraining myself while driving the dark knight (our camry) down to pool with nathan and his group in campbell. even if it weren't raining out, i shouldn't keep flying down the freeway at 80 or above.

    this group of youngin's at the pool table next to us had two girls that would have been far better looking had they not sported those stupid butt pants that made their guts bulge out over the waistband. really, pudge isn't the first thing that comes to mind when i start to feel the itch of hormones. after one of the guys in their group said they should all go to his place after pool and have a "phat cuddle party," the four of us at our table nearly died laughing.

    i sunk three slightly complex shots in a row. i was very pleased. then my next three turns i scratched each time, requiring each one of my balls to be added back to the table.

    while at a party in the evening, i slipped out of the apartment complex club house and walked around the indoor pool for a bit. the water was warm and the sunset was a jumble of red, orange, and purple all across the sky and reflected on the waterway that ran past the buildings. it started to drizzle, and even though outside you couldn't really feel anything, because the ceiling of the swimming pool building was corrugated thin plastic and the room had an echo, the droplets were amplified on the rooftop to where it sounded like a gentle summer rain.

    as i passed through the living room a few moments ago, the tv was set to bravo.

    rocky horror picture show is on.

  • 2.20.2004

    it's also a thought that can change the world 

    random things of note while driving this morning:

    a pre-70's vw beetle (so identified by seamus who has been studying up on them since buying his)

    at the corner of hillsdale and el camino, a woman who started making a left turn, then mid intersection decided she didn't really want to do that, backed up, and then peeled out straight

    seamus's vw bug at the foreign auto repair shop, sans steering wheel (getting the turning signal lever fixed)

    a garage full of old photocopiers, printers, and fax machines

    a toyota camry that looked suspiciously like dad's following seamus and i; a few moments later realizing it was my brother who happened to be returning from school

    a vw jetta wagon that continued backing out of it's parking space even though there was cross traffic

    an elderly woman driving who didn't seem to care about stop signs

    hillsdale high school students loitering about near a bus stop

    a man on a cell phone kneeling next to another man laying motionless on the ground whos eyes were closed; a bicycle with a bent frame and a pickup truck with a dent in the front end near the curb

  • in my dreams i was drowning in sorrows; my sorrows they learned to swim 

    the downstairs bathroom hates me.

    plain and simple, it has this "thing" against me and regardless of my affection for the shower in my bathroom, this "thing" ultimately wishes to destroy me.

    a couple days ago, a tiny amount of material from the garbage disposal backed up into the tub. just a very small portion; luckily it was only a few slices of lemon that had been sent down the kitchen sink's pie-hole to make it smell better. aside from that, and the tub taking a while to drain one time two weeks ago whilst i showered, things seemed to be going well.

    fairly well.

    until lucifer's seed found purchase in the soil under my bathroom.

    as in previous times, the odor started off as just this faint tease; "be warned foolish mortal, for i have come to claim your soul."

    then without further notice, it began spewing forth this vile fragrance that we have grown to become all too familiar with.

    however, unlike in previous times, it doesn't seem to be flowing up through all of the floor vents and grates this time in the downstairs. the evil is squarely concentrated in the bathroom, with just a hint of death escaping under the door jim.

    before you get the wrong idea, the toilet flushes fine. it's not backed up. no, unlike urine and all things fecalicious, this smell isn't so much a bodily waste product smell as it is a 'vengeful plant from hell in bloom' odor.

    after our initial experience several months ago with battling the noxious demons that threatened our very mortal existence, we were told that there is a natural spring under the house, so naturally some plantlife has collected there as well as a fair bit of groundwater standing in little tidepools. either this water has become tainted with a mixture of things most un-holy, or there is some flora under the house that seeks to remove me from this world.

    i would be much more forgiving of this cloud of doom were i able to determine just where in the hell it actually is coming directly from. since it doesn't appear to be coming out of the heater ducts in any of the other rooms, we've ruled that theory out. and the toilet and sink both have elbow pipes on them, since lacking these would be in gross violation of state mandated law and bring the man down upon the contractor.

    it's not coming from the window or outside, otherwise you wouldn't be able to pass by the front door since the bathroom is the next room down after the entry foyer. if indeed it is coming up through the bathtub, then how? monday i put the drain stop in and taped up the spill pipe, but yet the scent still managed to permeate in as usual and go about it's business.

    yesterday afternoon i started to ignite a french vanilla candle in the bathroom in the hopes to drive back this foul beast, but alas dad made me extinguish the goodness by rationalizing that we want the plumber to smell just what the hell it is that has seized our commode hostage so he can figure out what to do.

    that is, when a plumber finally does make it around to coming by. everytime we have called, it takes two or more days for the plumbing people to send a man out. the first few times it was this guy known affectionately as "sewer-rat," but on account of his being too squeamish to climb under our house (why be a plumber if you are at all squeamish about anything? plumbers are supposed to be able to face down giant turtle kings, damnit), our landlord complained to the place and they sent a much more efficient officer of correction. the landlord called the place two days ago. nobody has showed, yet.

    in the meantime, i have but one conclusion.

    somebody at one time died in this house and had lived with very poor hygiene.

    and now they are haunting me.

  • 2.19.2004

    i'm addicted to you baby; you're a hard (you're a habit to break) 


    there are few simple pleasures in this world that are truly greater than a pair of warm underwear fresh out of the dryer.

  • 2.18.2004

    the words we use are strong, they make reality 

    today is the day of delayed items.

    after i fired up outlook, a message slipped through my inbox that originally was sent *last week.* i just now got it today. i've been having issues with my e-mail account; messages getting randomely delayed for indefinite periods of time, messages sometimes just simply *not* being delivered at all, or messages arriving with extremely odd MIME headers, such as this aforementioned letter that arrived today. the message itself was fine, except that outlook kept telling me straight-up that this e-mail was sent four and a half hours *before* the e-mail that it was a response to. go figure.

    richard even sent me something at around noontime. it still has yet to show up. six fucking hours. what a crock of shit.

    i doubt that this is an outlook issue, because it connects and checks the mail server just fine. it's somewhere on comcast's end of things. even when i use the web-mail page for comcast mail, it still shows up as nothing currently waiting to be delivered.

    at least i'm not receiving any spam. or if i am, it'll probably arrive a month from now.

    a few days ago i attempted to print out my w2 from the corporate website since they still had yet to mail out the paperwork, which met in failure when i found out that like most of their intranet and web based services, simply does not work. payroll never bothered to enter into their database the address change form i had filled out *six months ago,* so they mailed out my tax information to the old address, and instead of being forwarded to our new house, it was sent all the way back to chicago.

    after arguing with the woman on the phone that i was still in fact employed by the company and that i had sent in the proper paperwork when i had moved (while talking to her on the phone she managed to find the original stack of papers i had sent sitting in her 'to do' box), she sent me the employee address change form *again* for some retarded reason. dunno why she wouldn't just use what i had *originally* sent that was already in her hands.

    i printed out the change of address form and faxed it back with all the appropriate information. two days later in the mail, i received yet *another* copy of the address change form which i promptly threw away in anger. i e-mailed the woman a few more times telling her i seriously did need my w2 so that i could get my taxes done and off to uncle sam. she replied by telling me that my tax info had been re-sent out on the thirteenth. five days ago. mom and dad were already set to leave to get all of our taxes filed, so i once again wrestled with the corporate site and got it to cough up what i needed after a half hour of bullshitting with a broken web server.

    three hours later, as i was pulling away from the house to drop off this month's car payment, the mailman pulled up.

    with my w2.

  • i have no choice cuz i won't say goodbye anymore 

    check out dasbecca, fellow blogger, and super gorgeous to boot.

    who knows? perhaps my profile on eHarmony has a chance of finding somebody that matches all my odd personal traits.

    i like art but i neither study it nor go to art shows.

    i love music but i can't read notation and some snobs would consider the instrument i do play to be a joke.

    at any rate, there is somebody out there for me. she's just hiding.

    in a cave.

    on mars.

    with her eyes shut and her fingers in her ears.

  • 2.17.2004

    if you didn't come to party, don't bother knocking on my door 

    ok, so the stuff i was writing feverishly yesterday that i mentioned earlier is a revision of a piece originally created about six or seven years ago, that chronicles my move to california, and then my life from middle school on up past junior high to the present day. the first draft was a total of sixteen pages altogether and covered a span of about two years. what i began penning yesterday itself is now sixteen pages as well, however if you were to compare the two pieces, the second document so far is just the expansion of the first five pages of the original.

    what it means is that i have slightly more than tripled the content to provide a much richer subtext that should hopefully provide a lot more clarity into my life.

    why am i doing this? i have no idea. i feel a compulsion to write it all down. perhaps eventually i'll publish it as an auto-biography, hopefully assuming that at some point in the future i am famous enough or well recognized that people actually have a desire to pick up my babblings and read them.

    that or i can re-read them when i suffer total memory loss when the alzheimers claims my mind.

    this year's valentines day was indeed quite interesting. after lazying about and trying to force myself to get up, i left my bed at about eleven and began getting ready to go down to the santa cruz mountains and shoot some rifles with nathan and his cousin shane. just as i was about to shower up, my brother came back from his shift at work, and since i knew he was looking towards purchasing a mosin-nagant and this afternoon he could have a chance to shoot one and try it out, i rung up nathan to see if my bro could tag along.

    sure enough, he could but he and i both took seemingly forever to get ready and head out. unfortunately since the range closes at four, and we left at one, it didn't leave us a huge amount of time to pop off some rounds.

    the drive down with my brother was interesting; he had electric six cranked as they have recently become his new favorite band alongside the red elvises. we met up with nathan and shane in front of nathan's house, and then peeled off to see how much time we could get out on the range.

    thankfully, it only took us forty minutes or so to reach the place, and after depositing range fees and ensuring the range officers that all in attendance were 18+ and had sufficient eyes and ears, we drove down to the 40 yard tin can/bottle range. over the course of the two hours, we each took turns firing "ouch" (the nagant) and "son of ouch" (the mauser), an SKS, and a .22 semi auto that i fell in love with.

    the .22 was a part of shane's collection and was scoped with a red dot. unlike shooting at coyote point during the night and at paper targets, we were shooting during the daytime at plastic milk jugs which was much more satisfying since you could tell pretty instantly wether you had accuracy on the shot or not. if you didn't, a little puff of dirt would shoot up letting you know whereabouts you were aiming which helped me to improve my sighting a whole lot.

    on one ten round clip, i managed to chase a particular carton acros the ridge and even pulled off my favorite shot of the afternoon, striking the milk jug as it was rolling back down the embakement, sending it flying up into the air once more.

    after finishing up on the last fifteen minute round of the day, we headed back to shane's place over in saratoga to clean all the weapons and stow them back into the gun locker, then ran back to nathan's house up in mountain view so my brother could take the car and head back up to our place, but not before joining us at in'n'out for some burgers and fries. after he took off, we headed back down 85 to california billiards where we spent a good four or five hours attempting to shoot pool and failing miserably.

    there's something about larger tables that i can't quite seem to get the hang of; i'm used to shitty small bar tables and not tournamet sized perfections. all in all, each of us managed to make a few killer shots but not much else during the evening.

    and of course, i took pictures.

    being that i didn't have to play with the worship team on sunday (they had the week off and our other contemporary band played) i slept in until about ten or so and aided mom in a few household chores to prepare for our guests that night.

    a good friend of eric and seamus's was coming over to see 'once upon a time in mexico' with us so to complete the occasion, seamus made a new batch of puerko for us to snack on while we watched the film. dad had missed the film as well the last time we viewed it, so he joined in and for the duration of the flick, it felt like the old movie nights we used to have on a weekly basis when we were living in redondo.

    at any rate, i should force myself back to my writing in the memoir. i've reached possibly the juiciest moment in the story and need to focus on it to make sure i write the best that i can to do the memory justice.

    more to follow later.

  • if you whanna make the world a better place take a look at yourself and then make that change 

    there is quite a bit to report on recently, but i managed to oddly find myself in a place of inspiration and sat down to write close to sixteen pages in my auto-biographical accounts.

    seeing as how at best in the last month i haven't written more than four pages of non-blog related material, i am quite proud of myself. i may share a few excerpts from what i have developed so far although i am not sure just yet.

    it's currently three am, and damnit i'm exhausted and need rest.

    although, the claritin d helped decongest my sinuses a lot today. for the first time in a while, i was able to breath while not sniffing with a force powerful enough to suck a marble up my nose.

    not that i try to suck marbles up my nose.

    just saying is all.

    anyways. more is on it's way later on today after i sleep.

  • 2.15.2004

    i would like you to dance (birthday) take a ch-ch-ch-chance 

    everybody wish cortney a happy birthday today!! yay!


    our little blogger is growing up now. :-)

  • a prisoner of your love, entangled in your web 

    oh, and happy valentines day to all four or five readers of this site.


  • 2.14.2004

    and maybe love is letting people be just what they want to be 

    i know that i am a tool for doing this, but forgive me.

    i feel the need regardless.


    happy valentines day, erin. i hope that whatever you are doing out there, or whomever you are sharing your life with, that you are happy.

  • something is about to give, i can feel it coming i think i know what it is 

    american tragedy

    this article bugged the shit out of me for some odd reason. took me a bit to figure it out.

    the offending item in the story was the word "tragedy." they claimed that this was a tragedy.

    for the family and friends of this kid, i am sure that this was definitely a tragedy. anytime somebody dies, it's a mortal tragedy.

    but morally, how can someone say this was an unexpected tragedy? read the article; not only has this kid stolen cars and sold drugs, but he was a member of a gang.

    when you join a gang, i think it's assumed that at some point your ass has a chance of getting whacked by some other dipshit rival gang. even if you leave the gang, any other enemy gang member who knew you were once a part of a particular gang isn't going to know or care about any change of character that you undergo. all they see is another target. this wasn't something entirely out of the blue.

    it would have been a tragedy if he had no criminal or gang affiliations and was caught as an innocent bystander friend of this other gang member in the crossfire of some gang war, or if some punk walked up off the street and shot him in the head with no reason (or hell, even with a reason sometimes). that would constitute a tragedy.

    but according to the story, this kid had been an active criminal and a gang member. undoubtedly, somebody in his gang upset/killed a member of an enemy gang which sparked the need for vengeance. if you stick your hand in a pot of boiling water, and you *know* that your hand will get burned, why should anybody feel sorry for you when indeed your hand is scorched by the liquid? you knew what the risk was yet you engaged in the destructive behavior anyways. he knew that his good friend would be a target for other gangs, yet made the choice to go hang out with him anyways and endanger himself.

    even though he had recently experienced a revelation into his own life and what he could do if he applied himself, i would hazard a guess that none of the members of the gang that orchestrated the ambush knew about that or cared. they arrived and saw two gang members, that's all. they shot, and then left. if i'm not mistaken, that seems to be a large part of what gangs do. it certainly sucks that this guy happened to be there during the ambush, but he wouldn't have been there had he not previously been associated with a gang in the first place.

    i'm sure that it hurts for all the people who knew this guy, someone it sounded like had some real potential had he not chosen several undesirable side interests.

    but a tragedy? a real tragedy?

    i don't know.

  • 2.13.2004

    turned up the music just as loud it could go, blew out the speakers in her daddy's gto 

    no comments lately. nobody wubs me *sniff* :-(

    that, or nobody has been reading this thing.

    or they just have no comments on anything i happen to say.


  • 2.11.2004

    going to the country, gonna eat a lotta peaches 

    for about a week or so, our counter has played host to a grapfruit of magnificent proportions that mom managed to find at the store one afternoon.

    ever since it was plucked from the colorfully arranged fruit section, it has more or less sat in the same spot in the kitchen for about nine days now. aside from being juggled by seamus a few times, it just sits there quietly, slowly ripening and providing a wonderful citris odor that has permeated the first floor living spaces.

    each and every evening since this behemoth was purchased, i have made the formal declaration of claiming it as breakfast for the following day. each and every morning, i fail to rise at an early hour and instead end up waiting for lunch instead of enjoying a nice fruity breakfast. so, the poor grapefruit has sat there, ocassionally attracting the attention of a fruitfly that eventually falls victim to a tissue or newspaper.

    this morning, i decided to have a go for it, even though i only managed to wake up at 11:30am. keep in mind, that it's not like i go to bed at a reasonable hour; generally it's not until three or four in the morning before my sorry ass collapses from exhaustion onto my couch. so, in truth i am actually getting not much more than your average doctor recommended sleep period... maybe seven or eight hours or so. at one point in my youth i deluded myself into believing that, yes i could exist on a scant four to six hours of sleep; that grave mistake has caught up to me with a vengeance and demanded that i get at least seven hours or more. i don't mind too terribly; generally if i set my alarm to go off at eight or nine am, i tend to fall back asleep and experience the majority of the dreams that i will remember. lately, i have been retaining the memory of a lot of them.

    at any rate, i got out of bed and ambled on into the kitchen. seamus happened to be around, so i enlisted his services as he had expressed interest in watching the decimation of this monster fruit.

    procurring the appropriate knife, i carved into the beast to discover a depressingly large amount of rind, with not a whole lot of inner fruit goodness to delight my taste buds. bummed, though still thoroughly interested, i began consuming half of the fruit while el macho vanquished the other half. for some reason he had this overwhelming desire to remove as much of the rhind as he could to create a geometrically angular grapefruit. whatever floats his boat.

    what little edible fruit i was able to scoop from the damn thing was fairly good; a tad bitter in some spots but overall had a nice consistency. upon finishing i squished the hell out of the remains to deposit as much juice into the bowl as was possible, then mixed it all up with some orange juice which i then strained to produce a very intriguing blend of flavors that brought a smile to my palate. after downing the pleasing liquid, the second half of the once mighty grapefruit was bagged up and placed in the crispers bin in the fridge for future consumption. eventually once mom got home later this afternoon, she informed me that i had carved the thing in half at the wrong point, thus resulting in my haggard attempt at obtaining fruity morsoles.

    despite having sampled the item for what essentially was lunch, i joined my brother, seamus and dad on a trip to the bell for some whanna-be mexican food. i don't even think you can consider taco bell to be mexican food; there really is no connection. it's just american food crammed into tacos and burritos. the food itself was alright even though some dip-ass parent had allowed their child to go nuts with making a mess of the soft drink fountain; spilling different blends of soda all over the counter and pulling out all of the fucking drink cup lids and spreading them about. the parent just laughed as if it were the cutetest thing ever, their child obviously indulging in mistakingly believing that it was the pinnacle of all human intellect.

    i wanted to beat the parent upside the head and have them yell at their kid to knock it the fuck off. the poor counter staff could only stand idly by and watch as this little juvennile yuppy terror wreaked all kinds of mad havoc in the restaurant; later they spilled their entire orange soda on the floor and tossed food over the table for the hell of it, which of course was not cleaned up by the jerk-off parent but left instead for a minimum wage employee who prolly would have taken joy in watching the kid slip all over the soda and break it's arm.

    not much else is going on for now, save the fact that i stil have yet to receive my w2 from my employers. this is really starting to piss me off. seriously, with all the shit this company gives me, if they don't have that fucking piece of paper in my hands by next monday, i am fully prepared to take up legal counsel to get this issue resolved. really, if the company didn't mail it off to me by the deadline they suffer federal penalities as it is by law they have to have sent it by i think january 26th, and here it is already the 11th of february. it doesn't take take 15 days to go from chicago to california, even by ground mail. there is no excuse for this, but chalk it up to a long laundry list of bullshit this company keeps doing as they can't quite seem to get their heads out of their asses.

    eh. i'm only half pissed because of that. the other thing setting me off is that despite having looked through virtually every box we have on this property, i still can't find any of my high school annuals. there are a few boxes left unchecked but my hopes of finding them grew dim several months ago. monetary values invested aside, all of them contain comments and signatures from good friends that i have since moved away from and are quite possibly the last ties i possessed to those associations. a large number of the people i knew have long ago moved on in their lives to other towns or states, and being that i have no basis of where to start looking for them, all i had left tangibly were the photos and signatures. now even those are likely gone.

    this wouldn't have happened had i not allowed dad to pack them up as they were sitting on a bookcase in the office. originally there wasn't any room in our last house for me to keep my tall bookcase in my quarters, hence it was placed in the office. i didn't mind this; i just reserved one shelf space for my yearbooks and a few other valuable books that i had and preferred to keep on display. when we packed up to move to this current house, dad assured me that he would handle the packing of everything in the office, including those items. however, as there were several boxes of material that were thrown away from the office as they were filled primarily with things we no longer needed, i fear that perhaps those books got tossed along with the trash and are merely flecks of cardboard and paper, occupying some space in a landfill far from here.

    this very image enrages me as i can't get over how a fuck-up like this could have even occurred. it boggles my mind and boils my blood to the point where i think the majority of the stress that i'm feeling isn't so much the fact that my bank account is nearing desert-like status, but that valuable possessions i once loved are now gone for all of time. FUCK.

    i'm gonna go now. possibly to tear apart the rest of the house if i have to, or just giving up for the day and taking a nap to help burn off my anger.

  • 2.10.2004

    fumbling is confidence and wondering why the world has passed him by 

    holy shit!

    mtv is running a music video!!!1

    and it's not a rap song!!!111

    *runs to go buy a lotto ticket*

  • you seen it all around you, good loving turned bad 

    yesterday afternoon, i happened to spot a big ball of fluff walking up the steps of our backyard. as i leaned into the window a bit closer, i could make out the shape of a fairly young adult cat, sniffing her way through our path.

    without opening the door, i was able to coax the feline all the way up the stairs of the porch and over to the door. i dared not open the door, for fear that perhaps this neighborhood cat make her way into our house and cause havoc, but instead sat down on the floor and edged my nose up against the bottom pane of glass in the french door.

    the cat and i stared at each other for a moment until a noise outside (possibly that big fat squirrel that always steals food from the deer pan) drew her attention and she pattered off down the path.

    go pay chia a visit. she's a good friend, we went and saw bruce almighty the first night we met in person.

    oh, and wish her luck on her school work. she needs to get cracking if she's gonna go study abroad.

  • 2.08.2004

    from the corner of your lips is the orbit of your hips; eclipse, you elevate my soul 

    thursday afternoon i got a call from the second in command at work telling me that the client for this weekend had backed out and that my hours on friday and saturday evening were cut.

    so, sometime around noon on friday, i slipped into one of my slightly uncharacteristic cleaning frenzy moods, and proceeded to spend almost seven hours tearing my room apart, and then cleaning it all up and organizing it. gone are the large piles of scrap paper and other assorted odds and ends that required two handfuls to remove from my desk in order to open the lid to my scanner.

    my coffee table still needs some work as i have the final few piles of stuff to sift through and sort out. the floor was picked up and vacuumed; overall, my room looks very presentable.

    and i have no idea where anything is anymore.

  • 2.07.2004

    your candle burned out long before, your legend never did 

    i wish all the self righteous people in the country who can't stop talking about how their lives suck (including myself) could shut the fuck up for just a few moments, and realize that their lives don't suck as much as they could.

    if wishes were horses i suppose....

  • 2.06.2004

    don't be false or untrue; it all comes back to you 

    there are some songs that are quintessential eightes.

    like, when you hear them, you can not help but close your eyes, and reflect back upon your own memories of that decade, or what it means to you.

    thanks to lisa chau, i can improve that memory a bit more.

  • 2.04.2004

    oh no i see, a spider web is tangled up with me 

    with a shrill hesitancy, my clock began chirping angrily at me at far too early an hour for me to really care, and my hand slipped lazily over the top of the device to clumsily slide the button over to the off position.

    from my computer came the soft rhythm of a duran duran song, as my eyes peeked open for just a slight instant, catching the dull, overcast morning light that was filtering into my room through the tiny slits in the blinds in the window on the opposite wall. there wasn't enough defined light to leave harsh impressions of shadows against my other wall; rather it was muted and light splotches of gray washed over the surface, failing to present any real sense of raised detail.

    turning over on my side, i found it quite easy to float back into a light slumber; the dream world beckoning me with open arms and diligently waiting to send me off to foreign lands. it hardly seemed like twenty minutes had passed in the interim when my door burst open and dad heralded the start of a new day with a hot mug full of peppermint hot chocolate, complete with nearly a dozen marshmellows half floating and melting at the top of the cup. this in itself was a surprise; very rarely does a family member bring me a nice warm beverage in the twilight to help me bring about a concious start to the day. i accepted, and nearly burned all feeling from my tongue when i more than quickly discovered the contents were far too hot for reasonable consumption.

    dad apologized profusely, with my assuring him that in no time at all, the coolness of the morning would lower the beverage back down to more tolerable levels and allow me to enjoy the creamy chocolate contents. indeed i was correct, no more than ten minutes or so passed before i was able to sip the drink and still maintain feeling in my mouth. over the course of the following hour, i managed to slide back and forth into a hazy insomniatic like sleep where several dreams merged, each time becoming stranger and stranger until i would jump up suddenly from the slumped position i had sunken into on my couch. by the time i made my way to the bottom of the mug, the entire contents had long since fallen prey to the chill that seemed ever-present in the room.

    if my father had hoped to use the hot drink to aid me in waking up and actually getting out of bed before noon, it failed if only for the sheer fact that everytime i attempted to stand, i felt a great weight bearing down upon my shoulders which would force me back down onto the cushion, eventually collapsing back into the pillow and dozing off for periods of twenty minutes or so at a time. every time i jerked awake to a start, i would amble from my room and wander the downstairs to investigate as to the activity that was taking place, though unfortunately nothing of any real interest seemed to be transpiring, and thus i would begin what seemed like the endless trek back into my room, taking winamp off pause and allowing the sounds of the eighties to begin swirling about my room as my eyes drew closer to a complete seal.

    finally at some point a little before noon, i awoke and stood for the last time, swearing to myself not to give in to such lustful a temptation that further sleep offered. staggering into the kitchen, i managed to catch mom in the middle of carving up left-over tri-tip that had been purchased from trader joes and used for dinner a previous evening this week; she had even been so kind as to have picked up dutch crunch rolls at the store earlier this morning when she made an obligatory run to retrieve necessary day to day items, such as the orange juice that seamus had finished off the evening before.

    lunch having been consumed and thoroughly enjoyed, i opened up the word document of my high school autobiographical accounts which i am performing massive reconstructive surgery on. the piece originally had been written during my senior year when i was at continuation school, and looking back over it a few months ago i realized that i had neglected to be entirely true to myself and report on every memory i still had access to, regardless of how painful or traumatizing some of them managed to be. so far i've been able to take the content that before had only occupied the first four pages of the nearly thirty page write-up, and managed to extend them by another four or five pages, producing a much larger wealth of material and tons more information that helped to fill in several ominious gaps in my first draft.

    as well, i began to examine the writing style i had employed nearly six years ago, and made the decision that some of it just didn't work out all too well. a few years ago i finally found a method that i was comfortable with, but over time i find i have gotten smug and allowed myself to gain far too much complacency in my abilities and as a direct result, the end product suffers greatly. i've been trying to find that voice again recently, but i am discovering that although i have the ideas and content i wish to express, the means to do so has vanished and as such, can not be returned via force. rather, i have to allow it to drift freely through me as it weaves back and forth through the confines of my mental world.

    unfortunately, today didn't seem to be an arrival point for my expressiveness and after re-reading many times the passages i had already edited, i finally gave up on attempting to produce my desired results and instead retreated back into liberty city. quite a time was had evading police and building up my wanted level until national armed forces began tossing every possible contigency in the weak hopes that they could catch me. of course, in situations where several m-80 tanks are giving chase, cheat codes aid greatly in your continued living status and keeping one step ahead of the man. my escapades ended after i stranded myself out on a small island and the boat that had ferried me over was sunk by the tail-spinning helicopter that slammed into it from being disabled with one of my carefully aimed rockets. after that, i resorted to mere petty theft and only running down small numbers of victims in an effort to keep police attention to a minimum.

    from about four pm on, i loaded up iTunes to begin parsing through my purchased items folder, and once more my body found it's way into the semi-comfortable cocoon that is my couch. grabbing the ultra soft lobster pillow, i slumbered off and on for a few more hours until spending some decent telephone time chatting with richard, and then making my way to the dinner table to enjoy home-made chicken noodle soup. good eats and good conversations kept my spirits up, leaving me on the perfect natural high to transition over to watching that 70's show and afterwards, one of my more favored next generation episodes.

    the day was concluded with a more in-depth listening of crash by dmb, in which i was able to distinguish several key drum pieces that with practice, i should be able to fully integrate into my current playing style. as i seem to have lost whatever steam i had present at the beginning of this entry, i shall take my leave and once more pass through into the world of dreams, where i hope to continue to experience a fascinating world that inspires me beyond all comprehension.

    [weary and droopy eyed]

  • 2.03.2004

    feeling alone and you're all alone; pick up the receiver i'll make you a believer 

    originally at this point in the evening, i had made the decision that i was gonna pop jurassic park into my computer's dvd player and enjoy one of my fave films once more, yet instead i ended up getting sidetracked for a bit and scrapping that plan altogether.

    besides, i've memorized almost every second of that movie anyways by now.

    there is a lot of stuff going on in my mind. as i have previously alluded, this cloud of negative mental energy seems to have drifted over the valley in my mind and has settled for a spell. it's not so much a creative void, as i also have mentioned that i have a lot of positive and potentially intellectual energy that is just waiting to leap forth, yet being held back inexplicably.

    the part i haven't told you is why this particular cloud has gathered overhead, and why i feel unable to commit to any great length of creative output.

    as i tend to often do, and something which is rather destructive when mis-used, i have been focusing on my current station in life and thinking a great deal of thoughts. what i've come up with are several questions/predicaments that have partly arisen due to recent external catalysts, but also because some of them for so long have been shoved to the peripheral rear wall of my concious vista that they are beginning to force their way, violently in some cases, back into the forray and seizing me until i figure out how to deal with such dilemmas in order to allow them to be consigned once more to the definition-lacking ambient background noise.

    let's digest the biggest item on the agenda; as i have mentioned here, and to many people that i communicate first-hand with on a regular basis, i may just in fact be moving back to the southern california area in the extremely near future. being that mom feels she does not belong in san mateo anymore and that dad can pretty much work from anywhere in the united states he so desires, after my brother is done with his obligatory one year stint at jr college there are no factors that prevent us from picking up and leaving town. even seamus has stated that if we end up moving back to redondo, he'd tag right along with us.

    this potential can of worms is much greater than some may guess. taking into account the fact that i have never been comfortable with any move to any location, this again would be upsetting the balance of continuity that i so valiantly yet failingly attemtp to maintain. i had been opposed to our moving to the san francisco area from the very beginning back in `98, since i had become so familiar with beach community and for once had actually felt like i was "home." despite this objection, we landed in redwood shores anyways, and even after spending more time in northern california than we did in total living down south, i still have yet to feel really connected in some ways to my surroundings.

    it's odd, though. in many ways, i *do* feel connected to silicon valley and all that it has to offer. for example, the diverse landscape around here is un-parelled in any other part of the state; quite literally, a thirty minute drive in any random direction will lead to you almost every type of environment that is prevelant in this state but in much more concentrated proportion than anywhere else. the central valley which for some unusual reason holds great appeal to me (despite my almost never making my way out towards it) is much more accessible up this way than down in los angeles county, where civilization essentially extends to the very edge of the california/arizona border.

    and although the average yearly temperature around here is considerably lower than that of the warmer south bay, the beaches, mountains, hills, and city in between san jose and san fran just all seem to work in perfect harmonious union. few as they may be, i have made friends in the surrounding counties. good, strongly connected friends that i would feel pretty conflicted at moving away from after so much development in the relationships. true, there is always the omin-present connection that the internet heralds, but i think you can agree with me in saying that chatting with people on the web just isn't the same as actually hanging out face to face. the disconnection from society that this digital sub-space brings at times only helps to further toss confusion into human relations.

    a major factor involved is the fact that my formative driving years were spent in this geographic location; a place i am intimately familiar with navigation wise and actually tuned into even though i endlessly complain at the inconvenience that being forced to take a freeway to get anywhere poses. minor details that on the surface appear to be merely whiny excuses, such as the fact that carpool lanes around here only exist as such during certain hours and have unlimited entry/exit space, unlike the freeways of l.a. where the carpool lane rules eternally apply and are foreign lands masked off behind double yellow lines that only offer merging zones every mile or so. shit like that. the way the offramps are doubled per exit on the freeways throughout the bay area; you can take the first exit to travel in one direction on the intersecting overpass, or wait and follow the second exit to the opposite direction as opposed to multi-directional singular exits that dump off into a major intersection.

    putting all of this aside, several key items of note pop up about southern cal.

    the biggest is also the most worrisome; and involves a succubus whose face will quite possibly haunt me until the day i am committed to my final resting place; my ashes having been scattered about the mountains to float aloft on prevailing winds to the far corners of the globe.

    i of course, speak of the evil temptress that is erin.

    undoubtedly this is my biggest piece of unfinished business from having spent my jr high and sr high years just south of one of the biggest population centers in the country. at some point, assuming my family does make the move and takes up residence in the location i spent most of my adolescence, one would have to imagine her path and mine should cross. when that does, the outcome is one that i can only fathom to a slight degree in my all-too frequent idle daydreams.

    it's so stupid. plain and simple, i shouldn't even be thinking about her anymore yet i can't seem to escape the thought process that simply seeing the name "erin" invokes. seven years or so is roughly how long it has been since last i managed to catch a glimpse of her, yet that day remains crystally frozen in my memory; untainted by the erosion that passage on the sands of time invariably can bring about. i have no possible explanation for this fluke; there just is no logical thought progression i can follow that delivers a slightly acceptable reason was to why i continue to dwell on thoughts of her even though she quite probably is deeply involved in some romance with a completely different person.


    inspiration can both be given and taken away by the vexing ways of women. just yet another of life's contrivances that attempt to distract me from the ultimate prize.

    the last few times i have actually been to the beach towns proper, i have managed to end up in some sort of trouble. the second to last time, was when i got pulled over by a cop for the first time, breaking a promise to myself of hoping to never be flagged over by law enforcement and sully what would have otherwise been a spotless driving record. the very last time i was in redondo was when i totaled the front quarter panel on the right hand side of my car. both times i made the almost solitary return drive back in a complete daze. the day after getting pulled over and nearly being arrested for several gross violations of state law, i walked around essentially in a shell; awake and conciously aware to stimuli but having been drawn back mentally into a locked chamber in which i was forced to re-examine the poor choices i had made in the previous day. having ended a friendship that night prior as a direct result of my questionable actions only added to the self-depricating misery that clouded over me and sat for several months until i finally awoke and began actively living again.

    after the automobile accident, again the same situation played out in nearly identical fashion; even the festiveness of the christmas holiday was not enough to really provide me with a whole lot of inner joy and i felt truly as if a piece of my body had died and been severed after witnessing just exactly what i was capable of doing to my own car when allowing carelessness to take hold of me and remove all form of common sense from every-day decision making.

    these experiences have continued to leave an understandbly deep stain in my connection to a place i once felt a part of. and here i am, faced with the very real prospect of ending up right back where the first of many eye-opening events seem always to take place. it's a fact that has been pressing down on me ever since i was told the emotionally mixed news.

    now, as always before, i am left to ponder over many different issues that hopefully as in times past, i can somehow figure out an answer to.

    but that will have to wait until after i get a good solid night of sleep, preferably one where my computer's power supply fan refrains from suddenly grinding away on loosened ball-bearings at five thirty in the morning.


  • 2.02.2004

    lonely black and white, on a hot summer night 

    actually, it's a cold winter's night, but 'eh.'

    for some reason i have been craving orange juice. in the last few hours, i've downed prolly close to seven glasses of oj. it's freaky.

    maybe my body is desperate for some vitamin c.

    or maybe i just want the stuff.

    at any rate, seamus just finished off the carton so now i'm out. bummer.

    [extraneous info]

  • you can bring me all the things i need 

    naranca sent me some of her web comic art:




    from the photos i have seen of her, she managed to draw a perfect self portrait/characture in the weather panel, with the expressions being very well done. the nightmare one is quite interesting, as it implies some unique concepts about dreams, and i think we can all identify with the situation in the panel where she's at the computer.

    very well done my friend. :-)

  • emptiness behind their lies and dust in all their hearts 

    gooooooood morning campers don't forget your booties today, because it's cold outside!

    it's cold outside, what is this, miami beach?

    not hardly.

    i've been meaning to write again, but as i previously have stated, something freaky along the lines of aliens swooping in from afar and stealing my brains has prevented me from being able to perform simple motor functions.

    however, thankfully i did manage to beat down the invading alien force and stoled back me brains. so, at least i can see and shit and all that.

    wow. never you mind that random insanity up there. i assure you, the mindlessness has passed.


    it's odd... i'm now having inspiration *as i sit at the computer* but for some reason i can't quite make the connection between 'nuerons' and 'finger action' to form 'words' that hopefully are able to express nearly a fraction's worth of the deluge of information seemingly racing through my mind.

    i dunno what it is. like, i want to write sequels to stuff i haven't even written yet. that may sound strange, but hey, when have you ever known me *not* to be?

    i'll be back in a few moments. my lunch is done being nuked.

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