Bleeding Heart

All the fun of the fair

2009-10-20T17:32:17Z

There's nothing very merry about going round and round...

--Anthony Head, Music for Elevators

temporary delay

2009-10-03T17:58:23Z

I know I promised Part II of the last story, but I got distracted. I have been playing way too much Evony.

I love Hulu!

2009-10-03T01:52:51Z

"The following program is brought to you with limited commercial interruption... by BMW!"

caffeine aimlessness

2009-09-30T16:26:29Z

I can remember a time when I used to be happy. I don't know how to get that back.

I'll come back to Townsend Part II. It's like the television drama of my life got syndicated, and they bought more seasons than required to tell the story, like happened to Lost, so weird things happen that don't actually bring any new information, and in the end you're set right back to where you were before.

Or, more realistically, like I'm damned to some Buddhist hell dimension for as long as my karma can keep me here.

It's a new story. But it's the same story. I'll add it, for sake of the record.

virtually broke

2009-06-29T20:57:57Z

It came as a shock, checking my online bank account to find that I have depleted my funds. It's not that I have been irresponsibly drinking my reserves away. I've just been waiting to be assigned for work, while simultaneously living in the most expensive regions of the country.

Speaking of regions, it brings me to my next frustration. I opened my online Regions Bank account shortly after I made the initial deposit, some time in 2003, to my best estimate. Then I promptly forgot my login ID. The bank has allowed me to make deposits since then, but I have been permanently locked out of the web site, until I call the customer service number.

Six years later I decide it is time to break down and just do it. I need my triple backup funds now. So, stranded in a foreign land, with only my Visa debit card and knowledge of who society thinks I am, I call the number.

The associate asks for my statement account number, which I don't have. She asks for the street name of the location where I originally opened the account. I can only remember the street I lived on at the time, but this is not good enough. She asks for the debit total of the last payment made and to whom it was sent. This figure does not exist, as I have made absolutely no payments from this account since 2003, or possibly 2004. The account lay dormant for I don't know how long, until I reactivated it some time this year.

So I am at a dead end, virtually out of money entirely, broke within the confines of the online world.

My tax return should have arrived three weeks ago. I hate to be counting on that.

many, many more leaves

2009-06-20T01:55:43Z

Here I go again. I warned you.

Page 16, and this character quirk is inconsistent. For someone who has extensively studied an Oxford English dictionary, traveled the country, interviewed college language students (okay, yes, that comes later), so on and so forth, he should know better than to use the grammatically incorrect phrase "would of." Yes, sometimes we say this in speaking, but never correctly in writing. Danielewski, I've read, says there are no errors, meaning, this quirk is intentional.

And Mr. Truant says he feels like someone has struck a nerve, but that he does not know how or why or where. I mean to propose it is my nerve which was struck, but not by him. He reminds me of my high school history teacher, and then that ass of an English Ph.D. my ~~second~~ third year or college. They frequently awarded Cs to my papers, and the former explained, "You are very intelligent, and I know you can do better. That is why I grade hardly on you, and I'm going to continue to be hard on you because I want you to get the best out of this."

I took my research paper to a different history teacher in the high school, and his only response was, "It takes many years of practice to be able to write a conclusion that good."

The initial history teacher, the only one with authority to actually give me a grade of any kind, stated simply that she didn't like the ways that I worded certain sentences. I argued that they were grammatically correct, if she would dare to actually read them for what they said, but she only asked, "Do you know what semantics are?" At the time I had never heard that word, but she didn't dare a definition.

Meanwhile my peers were frequenting phrases like "would of" done this or that, with A minuses to their papers. The way that ass in my college course talked, I with a B- passed with the lowest grade in his class.

It comes down to being misunderstood. I don't know why I thought the "(water) heater" was so important, other than the fact that Johnny Truant added the water part, and that my own water heater currently infuriates me, for sucking up power during the day peak hours and driving up my electric bill, even though I run no water until night.

Oh, but being misunderstood, as he is and was, and I always was, and still I am, and why? Because I perceive phenomenal aspects of the universe which most are blind to, but somehow I happen to miss some very mundane things also.

It reminds me of a two-second clip of an interview with Britney Spears in which she explains, "I was always a little different." I thought it egotistic of her to say, that everyone really is, but now I suppose the hokeyness of Hollywood just took it out of context. Maybe some people really feel more different than others.

Like her claim of only being a slave to the music, completely naive of the hot, athletic, sweaty bodies grinding against her in her video ₁₉₈. Similarly, I in high school walked around with a giant V ₁₉₉ tattooed across my forehead.

I really am going somewhere with this, I promise. It's just that, it really sounds awful, some of the things that are said in innocence, and since--what is it? Grey's Anatomy? that now everyone ₂₀₀ loves to joke, "That's what she said!" Because if you're really honestly waiting for the right time, you can say that to anyone after a few statements or more, and it's hysterical... if you like that kind of thing. But for the one being laughed at, it sometimes gets to be too much, because it is impossible to filter yourself to that extent.

I don't know. guess I broke another promise, as I don't really know where I'm going anymore. I've lost all sense of order or organization. I was going to say something about an analysis of the human soul, and how so many are so stupid not to understand those who really are so commonly misunderstood. Hopefully, I just said it, because I'm tired now. back to the Navidson Record, I guess.

backdate complete

2009-06-19T05:53:22Z

finished transcribing my documentation which I handed to my immediate supervisor, had the first page down before, finished the second through fourth tonight. apologies for taking so long, and for not spell-checking. Maybe some night I'll get around to correcting typos...

Check it out on February 10, 2009. It explains the "evil bitch herself" referenced in a later entry.

P.S. When did I get out of the habit of making every house word blue? Wow, I just corrected, like, six on this page alone.

I'm not OCD, really. I swear. Really. You have to believe me, but I don't really care what you think. I'm not OCD.

this goddamn city!

2009-06-18T22:52:29Z

It's like a riddle I don't have enough information to solve. We found the House of Leaves in the bookstore, bought it because I didn't bring my copy, and you almost cannot have too many copies in circulation. Out here, I don't need warped physics for a mindfuck.

We've been frequenting the Phoenix public library. But the story doesn't really start there.

Fourth grade, Gramwood Elementary (or was it Granberry then?), Memphis, TN. Nashville? No matter. I was in fourth grade, Mrs. Steinman's class. I didn't realize at the time how I hated that school. At the time, in an effort to save costs, my parents decided that I would bring my lunch to school rather than buy cafeteria meals. To ensure that I would have something cold to drink, however, my mom gave me change with which to purchase milk.

There was one other in my class with the same system. In the lunch room, I stood quietly in line, Brett in front of me, a nickel in his hand, a quarter in mine. I saw the nickel in his hand. I didn't say anything. It wasn't any of my business.

At the table the lunch cashier lady person tracked us and addressed the both of us while extending her open palm containing thirty cents. "One of you gave me a nickel," she said.

Brett, more confident and outgoing (He spent the better part of the year playfully teasing me), immediately answered, "Not me!"

Knowing better, I just reacted. "Brett...!" I exclaimed.

The cafeteria lady turned the entirety of her attentions my way, convicted by God that I had cheated her, demanded that I pay the difference. But I was in fourth grade, and the public education system had done very well to teach me that I had no rights, that my observations did not matter, that the adult is always right. "You might have thought it was a quarter," she explained only to me, while Brett munched half-heartedly on his lunch. She continued, "Your mom might have thought it was a quarter. But it is a nickel, and I need twenty more cents."

I explained that I had twenty cents, figured that my mom could replace it so that I would have enough money to buy a carton of milk on Friday. The cafeteria lady held out her hand, accepted my payment, and she and Brett went on believing that I had tried to give a nickel.

My parents were irritated when I repeated what had happened. I remember how sternly my dad spoke to me, suggesting that I should better assert myself. He must have forgotten how they teach quite the contrary, in schools...

The Phoenix public library sent a notice to our mailbox. Addressed to one girlfriend of mine, by name, "... following items returned damaged or unusable... Lolita... liquid damage... $19... additional processing fee $4..."

After the initial shock of confusion I explained to her, "It's okay. I'll just pick a fight tomorrow. Because we didn't do that."

Today, which is yesterday's tomorrow, things didn't quite go down that way. Today I have memories. And my universe is unraveling again.

I got hired by the Springdale hospital, AR, and they required a copy of my social security card. I couldn't find it. My mom said it was in a manila folder in the file cabinet, should be with my siblings' cards. I found theirs, but not mine. I never had a reason to have needed it before, so I know I didn't have it. Mom thought maybe she had given it to me. No matter. The fact is, it wasn't there.

The reality didn't line up correctly in my head. The only possible conclusion was that I do not exist.

I went to the federal building in Fayetteville, and it was surprisingly easy to acquire a new card. I supposed, perhaps, that I really was a birthed mammal after all.

The confusion is that my memory concerning this hardback book is frustratingly vacant. She all but commanded me not to read it. It was her pick off the shelf, and all she would ever say to me was, "It's really nasty." I barely even looked at it.

So when the librarian guy, or whatever his role is there, when he procured the book, I remained silent, looked closely, and just tried to remember. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary at first glance, but a sequence of about ten to twenty pages in the dead middle of the hardback were obviously warped. Closer inspection revealed minor water stains covering large sections of pages, but the printer's ink remained purely black and undiluted. Unusable? Certainly not!

But my vision literally rolled like a wave of confusion. Lines blurred, and colors ran together. Even a vague memory of having glanced at this item before did not line up with what I was looking at. "Is there any way this could have been damaged after I dropped it off here?" my girlfriend asked.

The quiet, professional man answered only no, gave some faulty explanation that if somebody had poured water into the bin, then many books would have been damaged and not only that one.

My girlfriend maintained that the book was not like that when we dropped it off, but the man continued to explain replacement options. This only further pissed me off.

So she drove to the bookstore to find a replacement in effort to bypass the "processing fee." After much arguing on my part, I finally pulled out of her that she has no memory either way. I think one of us would have remembered such extensive damage, had we inflicted it, and the fact that there is nothing whatsoever of the kind in my memory leads me to believe that we did not do it.

Unless I am utterly psychotic and my evil twin, or my evil alternate personality, grew irritable with her safeguarding of a nasty story and malevolently vandalized the item. But this character's existence has been too much of a fantasy of mine for too many years not to have shown up before now. This possibility is too incredible, and I don't believe that.

I believe somebody took the book out of the bin, poured water on it, then blamed my girlfriend!

She thought I was mad at her. She thought I was mad about the book.

When I moved in and signed the lease to this apartment, they said that they could not finalize it until I opened an account with the power company and moved the electricity into my name. The power representative asked which kind of a plan I wanted: standard, or one set up on peak hours.

Peak hours? She said nonpeak times are between nine p.m. and nine a.m., and I could make savings by using electricity during nonpeak times. I repeated, to make sure I heard correctly. She corrected, "... by running appliances after nine p.m. but before nine a.m." I am a night owl, so I agreed to that plan. I was careful to not run appliances during the day. I didn't limit appliance use. I ensured there was no appliance use.

When the monthly bill arrived, it was three times what I had been paying in AR, and three quarters of the cost were due to electricity use of some kind during peak hours!

What can you do? I submitted a complaint via web site and left it at that. It doesn't surprise me that they don't pay any representatives to reply.

An estimated twenty days ago I went into the apartment complex's office to pay rent. After filling out stacks of papers the first day, I was still not 100% sure on the exact total of monthly payment due, so I asked how much I owed. I was given a total, and I paid it.

A couple of days ago we found a memo slipped into our door frame asking for the remainder of monthly rent to be paid, and please by Friday to avoid "further late fees."

And all I can think is, "You know, when I ask how much I owe, and I'm given a total, and then I write a check for that total, I can only expect that everything is paid for."

Sensei Wall remains very nice and enthusiastic, not pushy at all, exhibiting at all times respect and control, while proving to be unusually strong and skilled. My ribs are almost 100% healed now. I couldn't look him in the eye. I just paid out the remainder of the contract.

Like, four or five years ago when the speed limit on the super highway between Eufreaka Springs and Bentonville drops from 55 to 25 then comes to a four-way stop, and the small town cop with inferiority issues pulled me out of the car and asked if I was sure I didn't have marijuana hidden in the car somewhere, and me being a philosophy student at the college in Bentonville, I answered that I wasn't totally sure, thinking I wasn't convinced I was even alive or that the world existed, and then later our family friend ex-sheriff and insurance agent told me, "... wrong answer."

And then years after that I was following the sensei's son-in-law through Bella Vista and was accused of smoking weed yet again, when the sensei's son-in-law had offered it to me but I had turned it down on account of not only being a nurse but also being at work on the job at the time (not to mention the illegality), but the cop would hear none of it and threatened to take me to jail...

My girlfriend asked, "Why are you mad, then?"

It wasn't hard to think of an explanation, and with conviction I blurted out, "It's harrassment, and I'm goddamn tired of it!" And, "It's this goddamn city!"

I want out. I want out! I want out! I WANT OUT!!! I HATE this fucking bird!

Re: Guiding Principles of Karate

2009-06-18T08:49:32Z

I find it interesting to how relevant this is:

Do not forget that karate-do begins and ends with rei

Along with judo and kendo, karate-do is a representative Japanese martial art. And as with its fellow martial arts, karate-do should begin as it should end--with rei.

Rei is often defined as "respect," but it actually means much more. Rei encompasses both an attitude of respect for others and a sense of self-esteem. When those who honor themselves transfer that feeling of esteem--that is respect--to others, their action is nothing less than an expression of rei.

It is said that "without rei there is disorder," and also that "the difference between men and animals lies in rei." Combat methods that lack rei are not martial arts but merely contemptible violence. Physical power without rei is no more than brute strength, and for human beings it is without value.

It should also be noted that although a person's deportment may be correct, without a sincere and reverent heart they do not possess true rei. True rei is the outward expression of a respectful heart.

All martial arts begin and end with rei. Unless they are practiced with a feeling of reverence and respect, they are simply forms of violence. For this reason martial arts must maintain rei from beginning to end.

There is no first strike in karate

"A sword must never be recklessly drawn" was the most important tenet of conduct in the daily life of a samurai. It was essential for the honorable man of the day to bear things to the very limit of his ability before taking action. Only after reaching the point where the situation could no longer be tolerated was the blade drawn from its scabbard. This was a basic teaching of Japanese bushido (the Way of the Warrior).

In karate, the hands and feet can be as deadly as the blade of a sword. Thus, the principle that "there is no first strike in karate" is an extension of the basic samurai principle that one must avoid the reckless use of weapons. It underscores the absolute necessity of patience and forbearance.

This principle can also be seen in the admonitions set down by karate master Yasutsune Itosu, which state:

. . . when it becomes necessary, one should not regret laying down one's life for the sake of lord or parents, courageously sacrificing oneself for the common good. But karate [teaches that] the true meaning of this does not apply to fighting with an enemy one on one. Therefore, in the event that you are accosted by a thug or challenged by an aggressive troublemaker, you should try to avoid striking a mortal blow. You must hold as an essential principle that avoidance of injury to others with your fists and feet is your first concern.

Even in an emergency one must strive to avoid striking a fatal blow. This may be likened to the practice of hitting an attacker with the back ridge of a sword rather than with the cutting edge. It is crucial to allow an opponent time to reconsider or regret his actions.

On the other hand, when circumstances beyond control cause practitioners to have recourse to action, they must respond wholeheartedly and without concern for life or limb, allowing their martial prowess to shine to the best of their ability. This indeed is the true spirit of budo (the Way of Martial Arts), and it is the correct spirit behind the second principle.

Many fail to grasp the actual meaning behind the second principle and claim that all budo is based on the concept of striking first. Most likely they do not even realize that the character bu, "martial," is comprised of two characters that mean "to stop" and "halberds," or "spears." Thus, a martial art stops fighting. Likewise, the character for "endurance" or "forbearance" is an ideograph derived from a blade being supported by and controlled by the mind or spirit.

It is only when faced with a situation so unbearable that one's ability to tolerate it (or put an end to it without confrontation) is exhausted that the sword should be drawn from its scabbard or the spear thrust at an opponent. This is the real spirit of budo. Nonetheless, in a worst-case scenario where combat is unavoidable, it is proper to take the initiative, attacking time and again until victory is achieved.

--The Twenty Guiding Principles of Karate, The Spiritual Legacy of the Master, Gichin Funakoshi, 2003, pp. 19-26.

Jackson-Hewitt disservice

2009-06-10T06:32:31Z

This is not as hateful as I had intended. Due to the company's size, multiple issues need to be brought to the attention of multiple departments, and so to avoid confusion I sent this to the people who can help with this particular issue:

This will be my third attempt to contact someone about this issue. I trust it will be forwarded to the right people. The IRS returned my tax form! They request another copy of my W2. Please fax a copy, along with form 1099, to (479) xxx-xxxx, ATTN: [my mom]. Also, please repair your automated line, as nobody answers and the machine will not transfer to voicemail. Thank you.

I cringe, for hitting "Submit" causes the website to reload with a blank form. Did it send? I can only wait.

Had I a way of emailing to a specific customer service representative directly, the email would have appeared more like this:

This will be my third attempt in contacting someone. I understand the one who reads this has yet to let me down, but allow me to express my irritation in your disservice. The IRS returned my tax form, requesting more information! Apparently my W2 and form 1099 were not sent to them with my preparations. I had my retainer call you to procure a copy of said forms, but whoever she spoke with would not cooperate, claiming that I myself must call.

So today I decide to pick up the phone and give a ring. The line will not connect to voicemail, so I must wait for a live representative. Over sixty minutes later, I am seething, listening to an incompetent recording tell me lies like, "Your call is very important to us," and she makes ridiculous requests of me like, "To speak to an operator, say yes after the tone."

Understand, I have already waited patiently for over an hour, for something that should have been no trouble at all, something that should have taken but two minutes, and so the fifth time the robot lies to me, I exclaim after the tone, "Answer the goddamn phone!" and after the sixth, "This is horseshit!!!"

The incompetent entanglement of electrical wiring repeats, "Your call is very important to us. Please hold while I transfer to that extension." Then, "I am unable to do that at this time. Please continue to hold."

Meanwhile, the IRS waits for my tax forms. This error needs to be repaired. I need forms W2 and 1099 faxed to # (479) xxx-xxxx, ATTN: [my mom], ASAP.

And do repair your automated line.

I am tempted to fill out the form anew, and send to the "Service Issue" department as well. We shall see.

[cross-posted] (Re: Facebook)

2009-05-30T04:12:07Z

Zane Cannon had some adventures today. First we saw a man who, after enjoying the metro's services, dismounted and flipped off said metro service, then ranted about Obama and Iraqui sympathizers. Then we saw a mentally/socially challenged potential drunkard get kicked out of Baja Fresh--twice! Then dessert drinks at Starbucks, because we aren't cool enough to know the local shops in this desert town.

AZ law blows

2009-05-20T05:17:33Z

We have lived in Phoenix about three weeks now. We are impressed with, among other things, the fact that Super Target and the food store around the corner sell bottles of wine. On a few occasions we have bought one, also at the liquor store across the street.

I quit smoking about a year ago. I swore off cigarettes, switched to pipe tobacco, and smoked less and less until I just didn't want it anymore. But on occasion I don't sleep well, and then I react by sleeping too much. Dehydration results, and then not even copious amounts of water will rid me of the horrendous caffeine-withdrawal headaches.

Sure, I could just have some caffeine, but then that would keep me up all night only to start the situation all over again. No, it does not happen very often, so when it does, I don't consider it that much of a problem to partake of a little nicotine.

So while attempting to buy a single $.99 cigarillo in the Walgreens tonight the following conversation ensued:

clerk: Can I see both your IDs?
Candice: I didn't bring mine.
me: She's not even going to smoke it.
clerk: I still have to see them both.
me: What if I had a little baby in here? Would you need to see hers?

The clerk tried to explain the reason behind the state law, and I maintained that it makes no sense. What about my hypothetical eighteen-plus-year-old friend I've got watching TV while waiting for us back home? Do you need to see his ID too?!

I wish I had thought to send Candice outside, then request to complete the transaction. Or else leave, then walk right back in without her. We went across the street to the Chevron instead, and she just didn't go in.

fucking bs, man. Tennessee does that with alcohol, I remember.

So let's summarize. As liberal as AZ state law is, it is okay to buy alcohol for minors, but those with migraine headaches cannot smoke. Right. got it.

Housecooling!

2009-04-09T04:03:04Z

Housecooling party scheduled for the last Saturday in April, 7 pm until whenever. possible I'll be handing out free stuff. also possible I'll have a greedy attack and keep it all. I should have enough rum for everyone, but bring beer (or vodka) if you prefer. Please don't drink and drive.

Pass the word around.

If you do not know where I live, there might be a reason for that. Or else, you can call me for directions.

Wish me luck in Phoenix.

ice apocalypse '09

2009-02-07T08:25:46Z

Just for the record, the residents of Ravenwood are saying it was two weeks ago... I'm really tired and will have to take their word for it. I've slept since then.

Anyway, the ice storm hit hard. It was a test brought to us by the emergency weather system of atmospheric catastrophies. It was only a test. Had it been an actual zombie apocalypse, I would be stumbling around looking for brains about now.

But no, I had fun with it, many minor adventures to make up into one good big one. Then on Saturday the creepiest ever mist descended upon all of Fayettespringville. It looked like Silent Hill out there!

I lost power for four or five days, only had to take two cold showers, woke up Saturday night, and five minutes later the power kicked on, so I got a warm shower before returning to the weekend stretch of work. Dad said he slept through most of it, having caught a cold of sorts, lost power in phases, up to twelve hours at a time, not too bad. Mom/siblings didn't lose power at all. The worst part (for my brother) was not having anything to do while banned from grade school.

In any case, I'm officially lonely no more. Thanks to Rob Thomas, my paper doll, and our heavenly Father for yet another divine angel gift from above. "The Lord is one," it is said.

Song of Songs down, and I'll quit whining. "Do not awaken my love until she pleases."

(What does adjure mean?)

Good night, sweet bats. Love to all.

M4

2009-01-21T02:03:23Z

I
Have wondered about you
Where will you be
When this is through?

If all
If all goes as planned
Will you redeem
My life again?
My life again

Fire the fields the weed is sown
Water down your empty soul
Wake the sea of silent hope
Water down your empty soul

Fight your foes you're not alone
Holy war is on the phone
Asking to please stay on hold
The bleeding loss of blood runs cold

And I need you to recover
Because I can't make it on my own
And I need you to recover
Because I can't make it on my own

I
Have wondered about you
Where will you be
When this is through?

If all
If all goes as planned
Will you redeem
My life again?

I
Have wondered about you
Where will you be
When this is through?

If all
If all goes as planned
Will you redeem
My life again?
My life again?

And I need you to recover
Because I can't make it on my own
And I need you to recover
Because I can't make it on my own
I need you to recover
Because I can't make it on my own
I need you to recover
Because I can't make it on my own
On my own
On my own
On my own

--The Faunts
(Mass Effect)

absent T, long f

2008-12-17T10:24:58Z

Duckcember turned into No Fhaven Ducks... or fomething.

got notes fomewhere... not with me. How've I been? just exactly the same as the last time, no change in an absence of Yonnie, hence my own absence from livejournal, meaning absolutely nothing at all new.

Dad faid fomething last month, about a personal relationship with the core center power of the Universe, so intimate you can call Him Father, and yet the revelations you find are personal, as in the moments one might fhare with a lover.

Fo I quit writing things down.

Never fear. My adventures are no less amazing than ever before.

'Course, my brain's on fire. might just be the rum talking.

Rum figning out. Goodnight, fays Barnabas.

(heheheh. accidentally hit fpell-check before I posted.)

quintessent stupid imagined celebritory harem

2008-11-13T12:59:20Z

But in other news, Regina Spektor, belovéd Aquarius, welcome to my top five!

Act III

2008-11-13T03:09:38Z

He called to me, said I looked like a musician. I was decent, made light conversation, paced alongside him rather than forging onward when he continued talking. He later explained "psychology," and quickly the conversation got good.

pause. I'll explain later.

Later, "Present time. Present day! *maniacal laughter*"

I never recorded the rest of it, kept remembering it, dreaming about it even. chance encounter with Kenny, who happened to not be at that electro event that night, but yet runs in those circles nonetheless. And he struck up a conversation with me because he thought I looked like a guy from a band he likes. Basically, I went over to his spartan-esque apartment, and we talked about psychology and synchronicity, and we listened to the radio and philosophized over waves, etc., etc. He gave me a pen and paper, that I might record the random thoughts that wouldn't stop pestering me.

And he told me, "Dude, Ben's a drunk asshole." No, actually Kenny was much more eloquent than that.

Then when I got home I scribbled all the previous two acts out, and then I was just tired. And now over half a month later, I'm behind on my transcriptions, and I'm just... so... tired.

Well, I've been sick. caught the plague, been recovering. playing lots and lots of video games. Wrath of the Lich King is out, but I don't run in that World any longer. It's just not in my budget for a new computer at this time.

But I did buy myself a shotgun. because, "A gun is a MAN's weapon!"

that time again

2008-11-13T02:54:18Z

Yeah, I've been bracing for it. Anyone else feeling the perils of Suckvember?

Maybe this time, after I laugh until I cry, then I'll cry until I laugh, listen to November Rain, love until it hurts, then do it all again...

... or you know, something like that.

dude!

2008-10-08T12:12:52Z

meant to mention this like two weeks ago, but I don't have a computer right now. But anyway.

It's Rocktober, bitches!

ho hum...

2008-10-02T05:17:26Z

did some backdating a while back, transcribed about four pages I had written by hand, got back home, realized I missed a full page. I have it with me, down the street, around the corner. But the computer is here, and what can I say? I'm a lazy bum.

I'll tack it on later.

uncle in town, not so scary conservative in my own territory, and a wealth of cultural knowledge, as well as shrewd money management advice.

pushing me really hard to replace my fried computers... trying to hold out just a little longer... See, the idea is to not spend money. I'm not so good at that anymore, apparently.

Why do I feel so tired? I need some coffee.

By all that is ungodly...!

2008-09-06T02:50:36Z

So I'm messing around with comfortadore--the laptop--this morning. Mind you, my desktop tower already got struck by lightning. And suddenly the screen locks up and burns out. I know it is the screen because the power button still shuts down, and then after pressing it again I can hear the operating system boot up. So it looks like I'll be out of commission for a while. no idea how much an iBook's screen costs. I'll probably find out late next week.

This sucks. I can't get a new job without a computer.

trudging toward sobriety

2008-09-05T07:01:38Z

You know, if I am not careful, then I fall to dreaming again. The Zodiac hits hard, and I wander aimlessly, while my mind roams in lands of lions and centaurs, and strutting roosters among strong boars and dragons.

And I confessed already that I miss my Leo, and I know that I have not confessed my sins in quite some time--It has been x years since my last confession. I contemplate the realm of Scorpio, that what I must understand is that they are always out to get what they want, always out to get me, that I must be guarded against their tails, that I have been stung. Yes, they know that I seek to understand myself. They read me better than I read myself. And if they love me, then they might offer antivenin. Such is the realm of poisons.

I digress, and back on track. I miss another Leo. And I am a Paladin first, and then I am a Centaur. By the power within and without, by Wednesday night, so shall it be. Shall we be reunited.

Skip. California or Bust? Might a Phoenix' lessons wait?

And whirling on intoxicants, may I understand that I have bled too much, that I have been bleeding, but that I might tourniquet and coagulate, if I understand again that I do have a choice.

And sometimes, if I am not careful, I stumble, and I get things backwards. How backwards have I gotten them?

At least I've got the Sunrise Cafe, and "nobody is ugly after 2 a.m." My waitress tonight almost reminds me of Christina Reechi, however you spell her last name. (It might be the cheap scotch.) I think I looked up her sign once, and after all, we're really not compatible. Audrey Tautou remains another story. My waitress looks like a sixteen-year-old girl, and she walks like she's pregnant. Maybe it's her long hours. I've had that waddle myself these nights.

The lady samurai wannabe on my desktop narrows her eyes at me, tells me to train more. I've got crunches to do. I make excuses.

I have to drive first.

Decaffeinated coffee serves as poor antivenin.

urb dic q, filched from k [cross-posted]

2008-09-03T07:57:12Z

Dude, this is too true--it's downright creepy. I think I just found my new religion.
I decided not to post results for my friends T.K. and Mike, went with Yonnie after all.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Go to urbandictionary. com and type in your answer to each question in the search box, then write the FIRST definition it gives you...

1) Your name? Zane

Highly intellectual male with enormous hair and little or no social skills. Has relationships bordering on homo erotic with his red headed friends. Admired by the ladies due to his rugged and hairy good looks supposedly enormous genitalia. All round nice guy.

(Friend) Hey is Zane coming to the pub tonight? He is so cool.
(Girl): Oh my God you mean THE Zane. He is such a stud.

2) Your age? 26

750ml of alky

1 mickey + 1 mickey = a 26

3) One of your friends? Yonnie

Australian slang for rock, stone or pebble.

Hey John, how far can you throw that yonnie?

4) Favorite band? Voltaire

1. (François Marie Arouet) French 16th century author of 'Candide', philosopher, and satirist.

2. Gothy 21st century multi-talented singer and creator of the DEADY: THE MALEVOLENT TEDDY comic.

A: "Voltaire is such a cutie!"
B: "Yeah...wait, the singer or the French philosopher?"

5) Favorite color? black

1.Darkness, a dark colour, the colour of this text is black.

2.A race - The black race can range from African american to polynesian.

1. I own a black car.

2. A black person stole my car.

6) Hometown? Memphis

A complex city, Memphis is the richest for musical heritage yet has the number one crime rate. Memphis is the only city in America where one can be in a movie without owning a SAG card. Memphis is the bluff city and it rocks the socks off any other in the mid-south. The government is run by a crook. The highlights are amazing. It is the only city that voted democratic in the past elections in the state of Tennessee. Memphis is schizophrenic with the good and the bad.

I can never make up my mind so you might as well call me Memphis!

7) Month of your birthday? December

1. The twelfth month in the Roman calendar system.
2. A time of extreme depression and anxiety.
3. A period of time that is the outcome of the dissipation of a romantic relationship.

1. "December is universally known as the month for the birth of the Christian savior, Jesus."
2. "John's december is taking a toll on his physically and mentally."
3. "My december was at least six months long, from when she broke up with me to the time of where I was able to ask another girl out."

8) Last person you talked to on the phone? Kim

The last name of many, many Korean people. It's like Smith or Jones in English-speaking countries.

Hey, look! Everywhere there's a Kim! Kim Il-sung, Kim Jong-il, Kim Young-sam, Kim Dae-jung...

9) Your last name? Cannon

An ambiguous object. Possibly:

a) a cigar because one end burns like the fuse on a cannon
b) a blunt (cigar filled with weed) because after you smoke it you're head is going to explode.
c) any form of firework
d) a penis, cause after you suck it, it explodes in your face
e) a person, because they could blow you to bits in some way (pwn you)
f) the muscles (usually arm) of a person, because cannons are just bigger guns
g) a firearm, preferablly the one you use to kill the person using this ambigous word in front of you. Don't use this word, people will have no clue what you're talking about.

"What did you just say? Cannon?"

10) Your significant other? ...

Long silence, often used in response to a stupid question.

Ice: Why haven't my balls dropped yet?
Joe: ...

11) Pet's name? Jazz

The only truth left in music.

Jazz... man. I wish people actually appreciated music for what it does to you mentally, and not what the singer does for you sexually.

[untitled fragment]

2008-08-21T20:19:54Z

Little solace comes
to those who grieve
when thoughts keep drifting
as walls keep shifting
and this great blue world of ours
seems a house of leaves

moments before the wind.