August 2000
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I'm feeling down at the moment because I'm trying to come to terms with being really fucking square. Long ago and far away when I went to the NYE bash with Malyss I was all overprotective of her there and I reckon I might've ruined her fun by not wanting her to do any chemicals especially after the horror story of Condor's DXM with the extra sulphur molecule.
I know nothing about drugs, even the harmless stuff like marijuana (i did it twice, underwhelmed) and the strongest thing I take now is imodium. Most of my paranoia comes from law enforcement and then just the idea some person could OD and I wouldn't know what to do.
As for alcohol, I just drink socially because I'm an evil drunk. Plus I get overprotective too, worrying about Malyss' predeliction for puking and Kinja being able to drive home (say halass) after going to a bar and stuff.
I'm just glad that I haven't had any thumbs-down when it comes to sex but I reckon I'm never going to lose my insecurity nor am I ever going to get to do all that I want or whatever.
Whee, rambling.
Cartoon Network started yesterday, woo. I was surprised that Diane (from the Tuesday game) didn't have Cartoon Network until yesterday as well and it helped lessen the agony I have undergone the past three years hearing my friends talk about DBZ, Johnny Bravo, Space Ghost, Reboot and Beast Wars leaving me to the side.
I have this strange feeling of closure in my life right now because I can watch Cartoon Network without fear of it vanishing at the end of the month. My cable provider finally provides a channel that I'd want to watch! Sure, I might've added The Food Channel but Iron Chef alone is not enough to make me want to watch a network.
Lastly I've been having very strange downswings in my mood for no real reason. I feel like I'm stuck, lacking choices because I set up my pieces on the chessboard and I can barely call a stalemate to avoid being in check.
I'm just lonely.
The hilarious thing is that there's nothing anyone can do a god damned thing about it and I'm just going to end up feeling lonely even more.
Now to play Twilight Time, Maybe and Creep over and over for the millionth time.
My mood was helped greatly last night hanging around with Devo on Lambda. She sent me MP3s of David Allen Coe and his wonderful songs like "White Woman and a Nigger", "Fuck Anita Bryant" and "Three Lies". Ehehehehhheehee.
This'll only hurt for a little while. I'll only put the head of it in. I promise I'll never try to cum in your mouth.
Nice 1 =D peaches!
When I got up today, I was feeling kind of better than I have been and I'm currently making meatloaf upstairs, listening to Benny Goodman's "Sing Sing Sing" and I'll be heading out to ShopRite in a few minutes to get some Prego meatball sauce and maybe some gnocci.
Lastly, I might be getting work. Hopefully it'll pay well so I can go around the country. If it pays well enough, I'll just live like a pauper, sock everything away and make sure I have 15k to spend and 15k in the bank for getting my life restarted after my trip.
What is happiness? Playing with a laser pointer and having the light dance around on the ground while Katie and Rocco chase it.
First, I typoed yesterday so it looked like August 2nd. D'oh. Second, the latter part of a dream rung in my head. Back in college there was this girl named Sarah who I dug and I guess she dug me but me being me all the way back then made me oblivious to it and stuff. Maybe I just blow my importance to people out of proportion. So I was dreaming I was walking down to my car except my car was parked at a local park and I went around the long way to drop off this bag I had, some stupid city councilman (this is a town over from my town fwiw) stopped me and was going off on how littering is taken care of uptown but they ignore it downtown. I was indignant and went my way to my car while he harassed me and I harassed back about how he's a lamer prettyboy who has to pay people to be his friends (he had a fraternity pin). He went off on how he never gets laid and I laughed because big, smelly, hairy me gets more than him.
I never got to the car, I ended up at my old college which was seriously altered but still had that certain something about it which said it was my old college and I went over to the art building to walk around. Going past a room I saw a familiar face and I asked if she was Sarah. She hugged me and apologized for being away and going through three area codes. It was odd.
Anyway, I'm stuck being alone. Living a life where dreams are the most interesting things that happen to me, leaving me empty handed.
Those fucking cocksucking Australians. Starts out as a asspinch penal colony and somehow hundreds of years later it's considered a country. You would think that would be more than enough, wouldn't you? Wouldn't you?
NooOoOoooooOOOOo. They find out about the internet and realize it's a way to socialize with people who aren't Australian. Why? Because Australians hate other Australians. They want desperately to get off that godforsaken Animal Planet documentary and reintegrate themselves with the white world that's far far away from Charlie and goofy haired Aborigones who don't want convict-spawn muddling up their motherfucking dreamtime and raping their kangaroos.
Yes, raping their kangaroos. You see, all women in Australia are either butt ugly or barren as Ayer's Rock. The few who are in their prime are probably taken or have 'convenient accidents' where a 'dingo' eats her 'baby'. The terrible truth is: Australia needs women. Just like Mars needed women back in the 1967 historical epic "Mars needs Women". They're using the internet to pick up chicks. American chicks. British chicks. Those mick bastard chicks in Ireland. Negresses. Anything they can get their grubby pouched hands on.
So the Australians hop on their computers (dated 386s with a 300bps modem and maybe 256k of memory if they can trade in those goofy hats that have corks dangling from them), stuffing their Fosters into a cast-off CD ROM drive and dialing in to Monotreme-Online and then chatting up a storm with 3/4 of the Earth's population that has forsaken them and their descendents for the next couple of centuries and working their foul conspiracy.
Soon our countries will be clogged with drunken men named 'Bruce' applying for citizenship, wearing bad standard-issue khaki clothes and leering lewdly at our women. Our beautiful women who are pure of essence.
The world economy will crumble and become level with what Australia has right now and tumble even further. Saint Alan Greenspan will be frozen by the Anti-Australian resistance in hopes that when the second revolution succeeds they will defrost him and make the world vital and vigorous financially. Our nuclear arsenals will rust and leave us defenseless from outer-spatial foes. Hopefully when they see what happened, they too will turn up their nose to conquering a planet of Australians and mark off our sorry rock as 'Quarantined'.
You may mock my theories now, but who will be laughing when you realize that I was right all along. I'll piss in your nostrils, you pitiful rimjobbers, from my war fortress deep in the Ural mountains and hold my own while the rest of the world is smothered in a layer of sheep, dust storms and plagues of mice.
Before my stuff on Canada, I want to give my current definition of happiness.
Listening to Frank Sinatra's "Somewhere Beyond the Sea", watching guinea pigs on a web cam, getting random .jpgs sent to me. That's pretty much it. Now to let that filthy Lambda spivak have his time on my poor diary.
Blame Canada.
Yes, blame Canada.
They're banking on America being vigilant to the Australian threat that lurks in the southern hemisphere so we don't notice frostbacks sneaking across the northern border and infiltrating us. They talk, almost, like us. They look like us. They even act like us. Canada's conspiracy is slowly growing in momentum and one must blame the Quebecois.
Nobody likes the French. Just ask Hank Scorpio.
Their campaign began in the early eighties when they infiltrated the psyche of millions of pre-teen youths with You Can't Do That On Television followed by the silent war of poisoning Hollywood with talent like William Shatner and John Candy.
Soon our borders will be as worthless as the ink used to mark them out in our Rand McNally atlases, erased by the rubber-soled footsteps of Canadians running back and forth between the USA and the red maple leafed menace to the north. Unlike the Mexicans, they'll insist on something more than minimum wage. Their pasty white skin will fool us, even those with the accents that make pronouncing 'out' can get by saying they're from Minnesota, eh?
Already we're awash in Canadian culture and they INSIST that their cultural integrity is already severely weakened by the American media. Open your eyes! Could the person reading this website over your shoulder be an undercover mountie who won't bat an eye when he slits your throat with a razor-edged ninja maple leaf?
Could your wife be a Canadian seeking an easy way to become part of American culture by marrying you? You can always tell by the shaved head, it's the sign of their elite spy force who are specially trained in five killing techniques, arctic survival and spin-doctoring.
There's little that can be done but in our vigilance and if we strike fast like lightning, beginning a blitzkrieg across Ontario and reclaiming it as the lost 51st state we will be well on our way to victory and the preservation of all things American.
When I walk to my car during the day, I always take every conceivable short-cut but when I park my car at the church at night I take the longest way back home.
I watched Fight Club for the 15th time tonight.
I have a headache. I'm tired of Super Mario World but I'm still compelled to play it because I only recently got past the Donut area.
Lambda's dull. Everyone's mean to me.
At least Rebeka's online to play scrabble with, or she will be. She just returned for Germany and boy are her arms tired. Oh yeah, I was watching the news tonight and they did a feel-good segment about how NYC's tourism is up and they had a brief interview with a German guy who they listed as being from West Germany. Idiots. There is no West Germany anymore. It's just Germany. Bless your sorry asses that it's not Nazi Germany.
Lemme see, hhsb has moved in to her new place, Kinja's moved in to her new place (almost), Malyss is still living at Raisin Acres, I'm still languishing in my black and red room and my cat's still sexually ambiguous.
I just got home from gaming (nearly four a.m.) and I'm glad that so far things seem to be going well. Quick aside, when I got myself Chinese food before the game the price ended up being $8.88. Heh. I took it as an omen despite the bad omen my horoscope gave me today of travel will be a Bad Thing (tm) for me.
Brian and I got caught up talking after the game, he decided to get his shinai from his car to practice a bit and just fool around because doing that helped him get rid of background distractions so he could hear me drone on and on about my life and whatnot. We walked around, we whizzed in the bushes, we sat on the sidewalk and talked when a cruiser went past who drove around the block and I decided we should get moving. He came around past us again and stopped us while walking back. Apparently Brian's practice drew attention along with us hanging out in the middle of the night nearing 2:30 a.m..
I didn't have my license when they wanted to check who I was but I gave my info (i was nervous because i told them i drove myself without my license) and pointed out my car. We were questioned a bit and went back to our cars where we discussed what we should do and Brian thankfully offered to drive me home since the cops were still hanging out at the end of Ronni's street hopefully just waiting for us to go home rather than going to catch us (or me) as we pulled out to give us a traffic violation to check car stuff (which I don't have).
Anyway, I'm rambling. Brian drove me home and I'm stressing about my car still being at Ronni's and the cops going to the car, checking it out from the outside, seeing my old inspection sticker and deciding to have it towed and the rigamarole around that. I have to pick it up tomorrow from Ronni's place and hopefully it'll be there and I'm just stressing right now.
Reason why I can't sleep because I'm tired but every time I close my eyes I hear someone knocking at my door in a Gestapo fashion. Just in my head, not really happening but it's not good for having calm nerves.
I hope my car is there tomorrow morning or afternoon. It's going to be a busy day because I have to go into the city and I have therapy tomorrow and I promised my therapist to stay late to protect her from one of her patients who recently fell back in with a bad set. Maybe Tim can pick me up and drive me to Ronni's and then I drive back home. Maybe Brian will come for me around 9 a.m. while he's driving to work down by Ronni's and I'll get my car then. At worst, my father will take me there and I'll get home after that.
Bah, I'm bugged a little because when I got my car today from the church there was a tow truck parked at the church but it wasn't doing anything like eyeing up my car. Jesus fuck. I just wish I had insurance so I could be inspected and not stress about this.
I'm powerless. I have nothing that I can do. Life sucks and I have no reason or right to even approach my father about this.
Lastly and minorly, I'm glad that the game won't be at Ronni's anymore because she's moving and the new house is apparently in Arthur's name. I don't like Arthur and apparently he's got a serious case of little man syndrome because he feels the need to mention that he has guns and where ever he lives is his place and nobody can argue with him. From what I heard, he's going to force people to sign the rules for gaming behavior for the new house which is really stupid since we're guests of Ronni's and not Arthur's plus we treat Ronni with respect. We may be a bit casual around her because we've been gaming with her for so long but I don't think anyone has violated Ronni in any fashion to warrant this. I hope she realizes if Arthur acts like this, she'll either have to drive to all her games or her friends will be pushed away because Arthur's such a weenie.
What leads me to think he has little man syndrome other than the fact that he's a warty bald man who towers at 5'6 or something is the fact that he always goes off on how he has guns and makes offhanded threats that he does have guns when things don't go his way. If he ever threatens anyone with a gun, the threatened person will tell him to get his guns out already or eat the peanuts out of their shit for talking so big. That's it. I won't write more, in fact I won't add to the gaming diary until tomorrow.
Yeah, I almost didn't make this entry in time. My father and I went to fetch my car and it wasn't towed away. Got home, I showered and then we headed into the city where I had a meeting about designing a website and all that kinda stuff. I have another meeting on Monday at 1:30 p.m.. This time I'll go to Gray's Papaya and fill my gullet with six of their hot dogs which are better than a rub to the genitals. Got home late, printed out my diary entries from 7/25 to 8/8 and gave them to my therapist who felt it was unfair to give her all that stuff to read before but I wanted to cover all the stuff in my head and talking about it would've taken forever.
Hung out for an hour after therapy doing my security bit, went to PathMark for soda, when I was behind the square badge's car going into the store he decided to back up and didn't stop until 2 inches away from me and when I banged on the trunk of his car. Got home, played scrabble and went to bed. Whee?
Stuff that I've been thinking about which I brought up in therapy. Am I getting revenge on women for the actions of other women against me? Playing a game to get satisfaction that "I can do it too" after putting up with really liking a girl, wanting to eventually get into her pants, getting filed into the 'just a friend' category and then being fed the lie of 'just a friend' might evolve into something else like a beautiful butterfly.
Hopefully I'm not as intense as I used to be because intensity is bad. If you know me IRL, you know what I mean about intensity. People get caught up in it and all that kind of stuff. I still feel it here and there but I'm not fuelling the fire in order to get what I want like I used to because that ends up hurting people in the end. Okay, it ends up hurting people I care about. I don't care about hurting people in general.
I did write down stuff for yesterday, it's right after this entry.
Good things:
Thunderstorm
Katie lying next to me at the computer
Food
Work
Bad things:
Missing a call from Devo
My sister barging in on a phone call with Rebeka
Work
Whee! I made forty bucks today. Devo phoned me about twenty minutes ago and it was really keen. I napped and have enough energy to face what remains of the day. I think I'll order a double hot dog and stuff.
Sometimes I wish I wasn't so lazy that I wouldn't fall asleep wearing my clothes and do my slow-motion striptease throughout my nap because it's far more distracting than getting down to my underwear first then getting under the covers and being very awake for a few minutes.
Bah, I have to get up early tomorrow. I hope this meeting doesn't put me off doing this web project any more than the first meeting I went to last week. Don't really feel like working on a Mac and I don't really feel like being creative. I just want to do stuff like write HTML, do some web page layout (no graphics) and file management. That alone would make me happy (on top of bringing home more money than I already am at the moment so I can get closer to my trip).
On the subject of my trip, I really need to do this before I die and definitely within the next two years because I really don't give myself that much time right now at this moment. Maybe it's my mood. Maybe it's just disgust in myself that I've come to very little except for the friends I've made and the few creative things that I've written down in my notebooks.
Lemme see. Rebeka's moving out once again. Kinja's already moved out and she's seeing someone else. Malyss is busy drinking down in South Jersey and hopping off to parties having lots of fun. hhsb's settled in to her new place and is enjoying leering at the ladies at her local health club.
Tim's still being Tim. I'm gaining momentum on this web site project and I just need to figure out how and what I'm going to be paid for doing it since it's my first time. Brian's doing well doing massage work at a NYSC in Central Jersey. The game is going to be at Diane's tomorrow so huzzah for the new location sans Arthur!
Tonight Brian and I hung around his friend Rob (not Buddha for those who know) and talked about anime, history, science fiction and movies. As always it was enjoyable. On the way home Brian was telling me about a brief time where he could've had a window to have a fling with Diane but things never worked out because at that time he had just gotten serious with his current gf. I proposed that in an alternate universe Dr. Sam Beckett had leapt into my body in order to put right what once went wrong and get him to have some fun (nudgenudgewinkwink). We laughed while we played out "Sam, you only have a 65% chance of nailing her! Something must be wrong! Oh no, Suzanne is going to wreck things." and how they describe me as an unemployed cartoonist who picks up chicks on the internet and how Al gets tired of having me in the 'waiting room' because I'm continually going "My claws are still wet" and getting on everyone's nerves.
If this made no sense, fuck you. If this made sense to you, I'm probably in deep shit because that means either Brian or Diane saw this.
Fuck it, it's my diary. Whee!
I gamed. I hung out with Brian. I came home early for the first time from the Tuesday game.
Not much else to say.
I've got an abrasion on the top of my left foot. If I could finagle getting my foot on the scanner I'd scan it in to share the oozing scrape with the rest of the world. Strange thing is that it's on my left foot which never gets any infections while my right foot is the one with problems when it comes to fungi and whatnot.
My therapy session went well today according to my therapist although I'm ambivalent about it but I do see that I was cognizant of my pathology and objective to a point but I know there's still a tough nut to crack and part of it is having a feeling of security when it comes to work so I know that I won't get fired the first six months into a job.
I work too hard at work. I don't know how to look like I'm working because I have to really work. I get stressed. I screw up. I'm on unemployment. To save up for my trip I can't be on unemployment even if I do live on ramen, cheap meat and stuff.
Anyway, I don't want to get working, get an apartment and then suddenly find out that I'm being fired. That's what happened last time when I was getting ready to move out, financially, and the very next week I was told they were letting me go.
Fuckers.
At least I had 3k in the bank and I sucked unemployment's teat for it's duration and then lived off my little nest egg.
That's pretty much it for tonight.
I dreamt that I shaved off my beard while trying to trim it with the trimmer my sister got me for Christmas last year. I haven't used the trimmer because I'm way paranoid about accidentally removing my beard and I'm in serious need of getting it trimmed.
What's nice is that I haven't been twisting and tugging at my beard lately which means my stress level has gone down considerably with all the changes lately. Usually when it's this bushy I'm twisting the front into tight little hair-spikes then trying to untangle them and smooth out my beard once again.
I'll be going out tonight to watch DVDs over at Brian's mother's place. Things are up in the air at the moment but I'm sure everything will work out and I can bum a ride off of Tim. He owes me.
Was watching Rear Window and I felt a bit weird watching Jimmy Stewart and Grace Kelly kissing and thinking at the moment how it would be keen to be doing that right at that moment. It'd have to be just right though.
The person.
The moment.
The everything.
Vegetarians must be a miserable bunch of people. Tonight I had pasta over at Brian's and there were two sauces to choose. One was a tomato and basil and the other was sausage and garlic. The latter was consumed quite quickly and I remember a tremendous feeling of satisfaction after consuming the pasta covered in the meat sauce. After that I had three bowls with the tomato and basil sauce that remained since the meat sauce vanished quickly. The last three bowls weren't as satisfying and I'm dead certain my eating was an act of "There's got to be something filling in here, damn it." rather than just gluttony.
The fiction that I've read regarding vegetarians (3001 comes readily to mind, can't think of the others offhand which probably works against me) is how the food is nice enough but how no one seems to get full no matter how much they eat.
I love meat. If I had to, I'd hunt it, kill it, butcher it and cook it all myself except that I would do the bushman thing of whispering an apology into the dying animal's ear for the sake of my own feelings not so much as the animal's feelings. I need meat to survive. Sure my muscle may become marbled and my heart's functions may become labored but the overall feeling of satisfaction of eating something that drew sustenance from something far more substantial than sunlight is highly rewarding for me.
We watched Fight Club (#17 for me) and had the pleasure of sharing it with Rob which was a great thing. Sure he chattered somewhat through it but the plot soon drew him in and he was quiet throughout. I went over my take on the whole movie, how 'Rupert' killed himself because he had reached bottom and to rid himself of Tyler Durden because of Tyler's statement of how Tyler will carry him along like he always did and end up making 'Rupert' codependent and still live in the old world not the new world they had created.
'Rupert' trying suicide was also symbolic of his epiphany, his finally hitting bottom after Tyler's urging to hit bottom and most of all no longer needing Tyler because he had come to accept and understand his true self rather than divide his psyche between the two personalities.
Fun thing was the place we watched Fight Club in because it was entirely what Fight Club was not about. Brian was insistent that we remove shoes because of the off-white carpet, we could only eat in the dining room and how only certain glasses could be used in order to avoid spillage. He wasn't too amused when I looked him straight in the eye and said "The things you own end up owning you" and babbled off how he was trying to engender trust with his mother's new boyfriend and all that kinda stuff.
The place didn't even smell like anyone lived there. I swear once I walked in I thought that I was walking into a house that just finished construction a week ago and I could still smell the sawdust and drying paint that I remember from breaking into the new houses being built at various developments around my town when I was a bored teenager. Everything new. Everything 'perfect'. Untouched. Unlived-in. I knew I was a big shit stain on that couch, my two foot long hairs shedding off my scalp and getting stuck to the cushions and ending up on the floor to get caught in bare feet at some later date. The optimistic side of me hopes that house is simply for sleeping, hence it's unused appearance in my eye, but I'm dead certain it remains in that state through anal-retention. I felt a secret joy when I took a shit there, leaving my foulness to give the place a little life.
After Fight Club we watched a few of the extras on the DVD, how Angel Face's beating was reshot and made considerably more horrible because it was left up to the imagination rather than watching each and every blow that's presented before us. How Marla said to Tyler, "I want to have your abortion" which is cool and romantic in a way but certainly lacked the vigor I associate with "I haven't been fucked like that since grade school". Tyler's goodbye was much better than the original version that didn't make use of background noise/music and strategic fades.
Lastly. I've been using that term a lot lately, I must break the habit in the same way that Brian should break the habit of using the term 'subtlety'. I kid because I love. Anyway. We watched anime which was made up of "The Samurai" which was a fun little tale about these twin chicks trying to retrieve their family's ancestral dagger from a sixteen year old samurai who is completely useless around naked women (bloody noses ^_^ [kill me, i used that emoticon]). This was followed by "Prefecture Earth Defense Force" which was a fun three part OAV about some guy being turned into a cyborg against his will, how an evil organization is testing themselves out by taking over a little neighborhood before taking on the capital city and all the nutty shenanigans inbetween. Other than that we watched the opening sequence for "Idol Project" which was a chick cartoon with lots of tits and ass all wrapped up quite nicely in all their bouncy glory and before that was some princess anime that revolved around a teenage girl thief who ended up being taken over by Joan of Arc's soul and how she goes around trying to save souls so they can go into heaven. I was glad that one was cut real short after we saw the credits.
Oh yeah, I didn't upload 8/18's diary yet but it's right above this one. Read it, peckerwood.
The End.
My mind wandered while letting the dogs out earlier today (Saturday, I dunno why I'm jumping ahead with my entries) and it touched on the idea of people 'needing' me. That's scary to me because I know what I really am and it's not a Good Thing (tm) or at least not as good a thing as people envision me.
It comes to being needed and my preprogrammed 'put the ones I love before me' mentality that I've been living off of for most of my life instead of taking care of myself and loving myself. When I hear people that people need me I get a feeling that 'shit, I really should avoid dying because I'm needed' which is awfully pathetic since I can die whenever I god damned well please.
Darn, the thought was a bit more eloquent when standing out in the sunset with two large dogs sniffing the grass than it is in front of my monitor.
This is my life and it's ending one minute at a time.
Thing is that now I can hear the death of each minute, crashing to the floor of history with a terrible din that rings in my ears but outside of that bubble there's hardly a sound.
I feel tired. I feel bored. I feel powerless because I can't get what I want when I want it. I feel crushed by certain forces in my life. I'm the only one responsible and I guess my feeling tired stems from the reality that I'm the only one to blame, nobody else no matter how hard I try to shift the burden off me.
Didn't do much today except play with my Gameboy emulator, MOO and stare at the walls. I went out later with my father to a car show where he handed out flyers. On the way home I told him a bit about my trip planning, how I plan to get a gun (he suggested a few) for the trip (for defense, not offense) and where I'll be driving. It was nice at the car show but there were too many people for my liking and I was too much of a shrinking violet so I went back to the car to lie down instead of socializing or checking out the local talent.
I love my Dad.
I know my perceptions on this issue are probably narrow because I haven't looked at the past and seen what went on back then but it seems that there's no end to the number of women today who want a bisexual experience, had one or eat tuna on a regular basis. I reckon this is much higher than what might've been in the eighties or back further (ignoring the sixties which should've been napalmed followed by doused with lysol with those dirty hippies). Yeah, I know some of you dykes are into pussy because you like pussy or because you were molested when you were all wee ones and don't like guys (like the chick in Boys Don't Cry [no, i'm not fucking hip enough to know her name]) but I reckon the rest of you lesbians are doing this because men are too feminine nowadays.
An easy example is my diary. I admit, without #90845's help, that it can get fruity, weepy and drama-queeny but it's my fucking diary. They're a lot softer, physically and metaphorically, and they've lost their edge to the mists of uncivilized history. It was the edge that guys had on their side that women wanted because it oozed strength, confidence and a no-bullshit attitude. I'd say that Muslim guys and some mediterranean guys still have it because of their upbrining, culture and my stereotypes but most of them are (closet) queers in the first place.
I reckon that women think "Gee, this guy is really feminine" and get turned off because they don't get any of the cues that say "Strong counterpart who will provide and protect" and decide that if they're going to get a lesbian with a penis they might as well get some butch broad with a strapon who probably has better hygiene than a guy.
Last night I dreamt about taking a shit in my parents' bathroom last night and this cute dago chick came along to talk to me while I was on the can. She had big tits for her frame and they were really round. She leaned back and all of a sudden I thought, "Wow, her tits are just like the Lexx's eyes" and then my brain started changing her into the Lexx with her spine being the Lexx's tail and all the other stuff.
Fuck, I had more to write about but I can't think of it right now.
So far, so good. Just hope I can keep stuff up and get cash soon to start saving dough once again. Been told that the amount I want to have in the bank to do my trip is quite a cushion to fall back upon but I'm not going to lower it. Might as well keep my goal while going for it lest it loses its meaning.
Just a busy day overall. Not much to say really except I hope I can upload stuff tomorrow so I don't look like a loafing shlub (which I'm adept at) and I'll get some polaroid film to take pics of me. Those pics will be my diary entries for the next ten days (if i get the film).
Why? Because. Now be good and suck my dick.
I know what I'd like to have happen to my life.
I'd like to hijack a space ship, find some out of the way planet with edible flora and fauna and stay there for a long while. Maybe once I found it, I'd fly back to Earth and ask around who'd like to live a pastoral life on another planet with me. Sure they would have the ability to return to Earth once they're sick of me or the lack of entertainment technology.
I'd just have a generator, a solar powered plow to work the fields and a big fucking gun to protect myself from three headed tyrannosaurs with twelve tentacles instead of two tiny claws where their tits should be like normal tyrannosaurs.
Unlike Australia, I'd raise local flora and fauna instead of destroying a pure and virgin land with sheep. You fucking idiots, you've been in a god damned dust bowl for years. At least America pulled itself out unlike you peckerwoods.
Enough invective.
Long time ago I would have dreams about being kidnapped by aliens along with whomever happened to catch my fancy at the time. No celebrities, though I wouldn't mind Courtney Love, or famous people. I never understood the whole idea of fantasizing about people you can't fucking have in the first place. Or people that by the time you get them in the sack only disappointment would follow because the realization you were able to bag them takes away the subjective luster applied to them with the help of the media.
Alright, I really don't feel like writing a diary entry because I thought I had a train of thought but now it's all fucking derailed and the train wreck is really fucking stupid.
I have figured out that I don't need much while planning for my trip (which I oughtn't do, I should be writing HTML for that site). All I need is transportation, a bed, shelter, clothes and a gun. Shelter being a motel. Clothes and transportation I bring with me. An air mattress that I get and a gun that I buy. My father suggested a .22 because he says it'd be the most effective for me.
I like listening to my computer talk with itself.
The high pitched clacking of my c drive followed by the low, hollow grind of my e drive while the fan hums in the background oblivious to the noises.
Suddenly my e drive will think of something really cool and the computer will lock up while it tells me it thought of something really cool in a whine that grows higher and higher in pitch until there's a 'tunk' and the drives start talking to each other again.
Ooh, the c drive just chattered away to itself. It knows that I'm writing about it.
I named the drives too, c is Om, d is Mu (he doesn't get much work anymore, i think my father might tinker with him) and e is Ka. Ka stores all my porn, my programs, my sound files and everything. I don't use Om anymore because it's filled with crap other people installed on here that I don't consider necessary to running this computer.
Okay. Computer's all quiet now. Shhh. I think I just heard a drive chirp.
Now I'm going to hit the minimize button but not let go to hear the fan's drone rise. Hee. I can hear the drives telling me to cut it out. Silly computer.
Things that made me smile.
- Malyss using the term "making magic" in regards to Rocco pooping in the litter box.
- Teasing Devo that I was spying on her.
- Helping Mynx get a cracked version of Paint Shop Pro.
- Lying outside watching the lightning flash overhead.
- Knowing I don't have to wake up early tomorrow.
- The fact that it's all dark now.
http://www.isketch.net is very fun and addictive. I seem to do quite well except when I'm lagged. It's a Good Thing (tm), much better than EverQuest.
Last night I had a 'hard lemonade' because there was nothing left in the house and I was parched. It was nice when I drank it but it repeated on me a few times like I had a bowl of cheerios with lemonade instead of milk. Not too wholesome, in my opinion. Just a fad that'll vanish and soon be "that's so 2000".
That's pretty much it except for the fact I've really been a shut-in for the past weekend or so and I haven't accomplished much of anything. Nice thing is that I'm getting sick of doing nothing. Damn, I forgot. Tonight's the night when I find out how the Monday game at Ronni's is going with Arthur forcing everyone to sign 'house rules' and Arthur being territorial like Gray. I'd actually respect him if Arthur pissed on the table and said "This is mine." rather than pulling his pseudo-macho bullshit while masturbating to JAG.
Around one in the morning I saw a preying mantis waiting above the doorbell outside the front door. It made me happy. Whenever I see bugs that are that big it's like they've transcended bugness and have become something different. Closer to animals? Dunno, but they're certainly not bugs anymore.
I'm all worked up and things right now. My sleeping's completely out of whack. I wonder if I've been getting 'deep sleep' lately or if I've just been hovering just above the nirvana of deep sleep while the night and day wear onward.
Can't say that I'm lonely because I just have to turn this machine on and connect to socialize but sometimes it's a pain in the ass that everyone's so darned far away. I could go onto Yahoo chat (after getting a new browser so I don't fail JAR security archive checks) and hang around local people but damn it there's something about people in chat rooms that makes them less of a human being than MOOers in my eyes. Maybe my arrogance is leaving me high and dry because I don't feel I should have to search for the gems hidden among the offal.
Still it takes a certain class of person to take a chance on a social interface that has no blinky lights, happy buttons or smileys. Just typing like a motherfucker and doing all the odd text commands of MOO. Shit, I'm sure the people of FurryMUCK are a higher grade of human intellect than chatters.
Sure IRC might be your bag but you're still chatting. No better than a brain in a jar doing one line 8===0, constant A/S/L checks and leaving rooms relatively quiet because everyone's too cowardly to chat in public.
That's the kind of thing I dislike about Lambda's private lists. What the fuck are you hiding? You don't want to share your bowel movement stories? How you loved cumming in some bitch's ass and how she cleaned you off afterwards? You've secretly moved back into your parents' home? You're pregnant again? And you're acting like a teenager about it?
Get over yourself. The only reason people get interested in this crap, especially when it's leaked, is because you don't want it to get out that much. But self-esteem circle jerks just make you feel better. Your problems give you something to talk about other than what you hide from the rest of the people on Lambda.
Nah, you're not obligated to share everything or anything but I'm certain if people got over themselves they'd realize that it's just little shit and really dull in the first place.
Kinda like my diary.
One last thing, hearing what I call the Mantrid theme on winamp makes me happy because it's just so big and lumbering. Just strange that it's followed by three David Allen Coe songs.
Tuesday was a good gaming night. Saw Hollow Man for free with Brian. Also heard good news regarding Brian which made me happy. I'll write more about today when I have time tomorrow and I've actually done something. I didn't want to append anything to the previous entry lest it be lost.
Nevermind, I'll write something now and just forget to write tomorrow night. Something that bugs me when talking with regular people is when they refer to animals as its instead of he or she. I can understand sometimes screwing up because rarely do people check the undercarriage to see what's going on underneath there and those who do tend to be a bit on the strange side.
Animals are wonderful and equals in my mind. Yes it's facist of me to want everyone else to be of the same mindset but if I referred to someone as "it" I would be considered uncouth or rude. Everything has a soul, from the tiniest bug to the biggest rock to the goofiest dog who doesn't have a savage bone in his body.
When I hear people use "it" in reference to an animal or have ambivalence about the animal in their voice, even when it's their pet, it just riles me to no fucking end and riling me isn't good because then I just become a physically violent version of spivak on LambdaMOO. Something that I've been trying to keep in check with therapy and been doing well at controlling.
Neat thing, I have been snapping lately but instead of having diary_spivak watching in the background and dreading having to deal with the aftermath there seems to be a joining of both personalities that makes my rage much more forceful and controlled in a way. I had to help my father at his business today and before I got there I decided to get two sandwiches (roll with scrambled egg and taylor ham). They got the order then asked me again what the order was which I repeated happily enough. First the guy delivered one sandwich by throwing it at the counter where it fell and was caught by the cashier before it hit the ground. I barked at him and had his attention but I quickly put the anger out of my mind, even after it turns out he only made one sandwich.
I got to my car and checked the sandwich like the anal retentive I am and saw THEY PUT FUCKING CHEESE IN THE SANDWICH. I don't want cheese. I fucking hate it. I repeated my order twice and they still got it wrong. I walked in, called the guy a dipshit, asked him if he sold his mother's cunt to get a fucking green card while the rest of the staff tried to calm me. I was on the counter wanting to jump the fuck over and let fly but I knew I was in control and didn't do anything too rash. I left and I won't be returning because of their shit service and I made sure not to suggest that particular establishment to people who ask me where to go for lunch and whatnot.
Still, it felt good.
I miss having the pond in our backyard. The hole is still there but for some reason in July the water completely drained away leaving the fish high and dry. It was lovely with the big goldfish who had been there since the pond was dug and the tinier goldfish who were part of their dynasty. One time we had a frog who appeared spontaneously in the pond. We're about a block up the road from a pond. It's not a proper pond since it's not attached to any water source but it's a body of water nonetheless. We figured that the frog arrived as an egg which was stuck in the feathers of a duck who would come and visit every so often. Doubtful that he picked up his suitcase and hopped along the road until he luckily discovered our pond. He lived there for three years and got quite big, getting fat off baby goldfish and bugs. No one ever caught a real good glimpse of him but we'd hear his frantic splash into the water when we'd come out to the stony patio near the pond or we'd watch him float like an alligator in the water, watching, waiting.
The last visitor we had was the big white crane who hung out in our backyard for a few minutes then flew off after I snapped a quick picture of him.
July was always the loveliest time because that's when the lilies would come up from underwater and spread their flowers over the pads. I'd lie out there for a bit just looking into the water and into the flower, watching the pink fade into the white of the tips of the lily. We'd have wasps and dragonflies buzzing about, the wasps liked to hang around the bird feeder a whole lot while the dragonflies were just tourists on their way to their dragonfly destinations.
After we discovered that the pond was drained, I put candles around it for the little fishies who lived in there so they could find their way to the great big pond in the sky with a filter which always works and has a seperate section for tubby frogs who like eating baby goldfish.
In other news, take the test at The Spark and find out what you are. My email's spivaks@hotmail.com. I'm glad to see that I'm a Judge, which there aren't many of according to the page. Seems that I get along quite nicely with Experimenters which does make me feel good. Oh, Judge is described as "You are a JUDGE (DICT). Your affinity for facts and analytical approach to life help you some complex problems and make tough decisions that others cannot. But don't think you don't act like a bitch a lot of the time. You jump into arguments and hold grudges like crazy. Try jumping into the sack and holding buttocks, instead. You could probably use some love.
While some may see you as a bit overbearing and arrogant, your friends know that you are a trustworthy person with depth and a strong sense of righteousness. Although you are introverted and somewhat reserved, you have a forceful personality that your friends appreciate and your enemies fear. God help them. God help all of us.
Yay. I'm glad that I'm not a "Guru" or "Mentor" which seem to be the most common, next to Mastermind. Email me and let me know what you discovered about yourself on this silly test.
DO IT! DO IT NOW, SHEEP! I INCITE YOU! And new thing to page Firesign: What up, fatass?
