[Most Recent Entries] [Calendar View] [Friends]
Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
gelatin's LiveJournal:
| Tuesday, April 16th, 2002 | |
| 1:59 am | I gotta pocket fulla rubbers and my homies do too. Lately. I went to Karen West's party The latter guitar player for the Muzzies for all you all. I was hoping I could interest her into maybe starting a band up. Naw. She wasn't too receptive. After bugging her for so long she said my lyrics we're great but my vocals were no good. And so that's not gonna happen. Which leaves me with a nice prospect of zero of band starting here in this STAIND town. She was my last hope. The next night I went to another party, a birthday party for this guy I don't know too well, but there's this guy there, I really don't remember how it came up, but, I said something about Cobra Youth. Turns out he came to a bunch of the basement shows. He said the last time he saw Cobra Youth was when Melt Banana played with us. I thought that was kinda weird. But he was polishing his new Vespa scooter and I mentioned the Jedi Knights. yea. He's one of those Cretins. Oh yea. Karen did tell me this. I guess she already has tickets for the Dead Kennedys reunion tour in Cleveland. I had no idea about that. But I don't wanna go to that. I couldn't imagine how dissapointing that could be. but on the other hand......maybe not. I think I'm on my eleventeenth beer on this posting. I didn't wanna plan on drinking really tonight, but we had some folks over to watch wrestling and no one can watch that stuff without alcohol. And The Townboy bought way too much. The small press convention is this weekend. I'm gonna go and pass out comics. I have a crush on a rockabilly girl and I told her about it and she still hangs out. I'm begining to think she's ok with it. But her friend told me she only likes rockabilly guys. or Jackasses I supposes. I don't care much about my hair or know much about old cars. I'm glad it's warm out now. Shits gonna happen. Current Mood:  drunkCurrent Music: I don't really wanna walk to Taco Bell Without You. |
| Tuesday, April 9th, 2002 | |
| 1:05 pm | Why hello there mister new addiction. Hey! look at this junk. But fair warning, this site contains "scenesters" and butts. http://www.undiesonlyclub.com/ |
| Monday, April 8th, 2002 | |
| 3:12 am | You'll be sorry you asked me the reason. Fuck this stuff. i don't feel much like typing. however. There's kelli and Jenna and myself on my neighbors porch at four in the morning. Kelli was wearing an extrmely heavy koala bear head. And Jenna and I were wearing beer perfume. I knocked on the door like it was heaven's gate, but no one answered. So we went back to madness. Earlier in the night Mister HanZ Schmegel sang a liddle diddy called "boobiesboobiesboobiesboobiesboobiesboob Today. Hungover. I went to Fricker's, which isn't as gay as I thought it was. Only about 78% as gay as thought it was. I had chicken chunks and drank......soda. Damn. Braddarrell went with me cos he was recovering from his arm wrastling beatin. And we saw GrrrrrrrDone their. so he ate lunch with us. and all seemed well. afterwards, me and brad went to see panic room at four thirty. we bought tickets for the four forty five showing thinking we'd have time to go pee and and oogle the posters and whatnot. but as we enter the movie and it's already playing we're informed that we are retardeds and it's now 5:30 and we have forgotten to push our inner clocks forward in time. They gave us tickets for the later show, but charged us fifty cents a piece for the trouble. Anyways, panic room was pretty good I thought. But I like Dwight Yoakam a whole lot and he's a sonuvabitch in that movie. So go see it. I guess. Afterwards, I went to HanZ's and Melissa's house for the traditional sunday movie night. Motel hell. I brought a twelve pack of P.B.R. of which I'm down to my last two on this entry. So good night.....damage. Current Mood: googly Current Music: Sorry You Asked Why -------- Yoakam. |
| Friday, April 5th, 2002 | |
| 8:09 pm | Cowabunga pizza face. The crazy crazy girl paid me a visit. We laid around and watched a documentary on Tammy Faye Bakker and she smoked her crazy weed and I drank a soda. During the end credits for the Tammy Faye Bakker film I decided I probably really do need to go get a pair of wristbands. And I needed a new keychain. Cuz my old one was a mini Superfriends thermos that came with the mini superfriends lunchbox ornament. But my drunk friend Kelly thought you could take the top off and actually put liquid inside it and she broked it. (actually, today I was able to track down another superfriends lunchbox ornament set and all things mini-thermosy keychainy is go) Anyways, me and crazy crazy girl go to the mall for wristbands and to peruse keychain selections. I found a beetlejuice keychain for a penny. And it came with a goddam sticker and a magnet. I hung around way too long in the comic store and crazy crazy girl turned into whiney whiney girl. I bought her a supergirl beanie cuz she wanted to have a superhero beanie cuz I have a dumb batman one that is stinking up my head right now. And I was only able to find black wristbands with an embroidered skull and crossbones. So now my wrists are labeled as "poison". Which is fine. After the mall, crazy crazy girl and myself went to see a show. I wanted to go cuz the flyer said one of the bands was like Drive Like Jehu or At The Drive In. Nope. It was a completely depressing emo show. There were a fair amount of kids around, yet no one was making a sound. It was like a an army of librarians were hovering around or something. And everyone had the "Pete Rose" haircuts. (Thanks, Arlo). I believe I was the only one even drinking cuz the bartender would ask me every five minutes pretty much if I wanted another one. And I usually did. And then to lighten the mood even more, the drummer for the band on stage started in on this very serious dramatic tale of how his neighbor just died and how he didn't see her too much but it's a big deal cuz his neighbor died. He then ended it by stating, "There's a lot to be sad about." It was like describing the album cover to the Spinal Tap record. "It could get none more black." Jeez. The band was even called I Cried This Night. Crazy Crazy girl and I decided to start a band called I Was An Aborted Fetus Last Week. Anyways, after I got good and sauced and crazy crazy girl got coffe stains all over the bar we decided to go home. Later on me and crazy crazy girl got into a huge fight. I don't really remember what it was even about, but when one is crazy and the other can't keep his mouth shut too good, the cats hide under bed. Townboy said he could hear us yelling at each other. But that's how I know it's something pretty good cos most girls I'd never get into a shouting match with cos honestly I couldn't really give a shit. But with crazy crazy girl it's T.N.T. That girl can really blister my paint. So the next morning we kinda sorta made up and she went back to the sanitarium. I mean, home. Today, I went to some thrift stores and the comic book store. I bought a weird shirt that has Groucho Marx spray painted on it and the new Comics Journal. Tonight, I wanna either go see Panic Room or go get drunk. I can't do both cos then I'd just be a popcorn flavored Dum-Dum. damage. Current Mood: geeky Current Music: Dang Me by Roger Miller |
| Tuesday, April 2nd, 2002 | |
| 8:28 pm | a game called love: for the ages of two to six. Ok. I'll update I guess. Uhm, I finally got to see Bill Parker and the Motherscratchers. Maybe they were a little set off with my beer fueled enthusiasm, but yea, I was pretty stoked. And they played with another band called Kaito. Who were damn fine too and I'm filing the singer into the "spank bank" fer sure. A lot dumb stuff has been happening. I figured out I was totally in crazy love with a way crazy girl. And I still am very much. But we're not gonna be an item just yet, due to her medication, fits of hysteria, therapy sessions, court dates, and then all the other stuff that I contributed that didn't help things either. It's not as bad as it sounds really. Except, just sort of. Example: having fun at the auto shop waiting for my car to get done with an oil change. Just goofing off making each other laugh and then she starts crying, like balling, says all of a sudden she feels uncomfortable. I know why she's like this and I really can't say here, but also I just can't hang until it gets a bit better. I'm ashamed at my low tolerance. Sometimes, I'm just more of a "Get Some Confidence, Stupid!" kinda boy. And she knows it. She expects me to be the umoving rock and I can't do this stuff cuz I'll fall down too. It ain't Ozzy and Harriet. I been going to a bunch of shows lately. Problem is, whenever I go to a show, I can't help but get all beered up during. So it's been pretty fun I suppose. Hank the Third fucking rocked the pee world. Thee Immortal Lee County Killers were amazing. They're on Estrus and everyone should seek them out. Uhm, some guy was at the bar the other night and someone gave him a hundred bucks to pee his pants. How come I never get those propositons. I'd pee my pants every fucking day. Instead of just a few times a week for free. I'd buy a gold plated porta-pottie just cuz I wouldn't need it. Uhm. We gotta move in about a month. It's gonna suck so bad. This house is shit, but I don't have any money and I don't wanna live with the same folks really. Only because I think a drastic change in stuff would help me immensely. i got the big back to school package the other day. I'll try to do that. Starting a band would be a better thing to do I think, but Dayton is basically STAIND musically if you get me. I'll just get my kicks where I can for now I guess. Hope to see everyone soon, I'm bored all the damn time. Drunk too. Damage. Current Mood:  indifferentCurrent Music: Birds in Cat Suits. |
| Thursday, January 31st, 2002 | |
| 9:53 pm | They better have the arcade open on Super Bowl Sunday. Ok. I forget where I left off on my previous post. but forget about it. It was rushed. I did my taxes today. It cost me a six pack of beer, of which I had one, and about ten minutes of my time. My refund is gonna save my ass. I really wanna visit Chicago, so i think I'll apply it towards that and also getting another house to destroy shittily in this shitty town. I watched the 30th anniversary of the Price is Right with my mom while I did laundry. I got the new Optic Nerve and the new Dark Knight Strikes back. I sat and read those while my mom fixed up some macaroni and hamburger and Bob Barker yakked about neutering Rod Roddy and it was all very kid like. The other night me and Braddarrell went to ladies night at the pool hall, cuz we're a coupla class A motherfuckers and all, and we met up with Combs and Jackie. I commenced to getting lambasted right off with beers and jello shots and all that other stuff. This lasted well into the night. Afterwards, we got home and by this point we were with our neighbor Phil who coincidentaly is the bartender of choice at ladies night at the pool hall. We decided we'd go see what WobbiBobbie was doing. WobbiBobbie is this 30'ish year old guy who lives across the street from us. He's a little bit slow, but not slow enough cuz actually he's quite intelligent when it comes to the smooth ways of yelling at hoodrat neighborhood kids and smoking pot. So we're inside this guys house. There's some shadey young kid crashed out on his couch, his brother, who we all sorta assumed was hooked up to an immovable device of some kind, was yelling for us to shut up from the next room, the dad, who is apparently too fat to leave his bedroom was about to collapse on us from overhead, and WobbiBobbie telling us about how he get's disability checks cuz "he can't think right". ok. I realize this is bad, this is the definition of Gummo bad, and I'm sorry I couldn't stop fucking laughing. I was pretty drunk. I asked him about his mom cuz I used to talk to her from time to time but hadn't seen her in a while. "Oh, she died", he said. Damn. He then slaps the sleeping guy on the couch and asks, "How long my mom dead"? Braddarrell, obviously not paying very much attention, then shouts "You mean she doesn't work at Rally's anymore?" I never ran out of a house soo fast in all my life. I had to cover my mouth and just go. Nothing could have made that situation funny except that. I didn't wanna laugh right there, but goddam, that was too much. Ya. anyways, i'm retarded. Damage. Current Mood:  quixoticCurrent Music: Cap'n Jazz |
| Wednesday, January 30th, 2002 | |
| 2:26 pm | attending yr own autopsy when you gotta be at work in a half hour. i went to michigan and had a lotta fun, but then I had to come back home and go to work. And after work that same day I went to some show at some hall somewhere outside of town. The show was kinda gay. I felt old amongst all the kids. You could drink inside but not outside. You could smoke outside but not inside. I got yelled at. And there's all these straight edge kids just standing around looking dumb. Some girl showed me her breasts for no apparent reason. Which is alright I suppose. I was hanging out with my friend Candice and this kid Jake who's only like 15 but Candice takes him to shows all the time cuz he never gets to do things like that. So of course, I'm starting to wonder why I'm there and then, yea of course, I see the cutest girl in the world. Sitting by herself and then later standing around in the back of the room all by herself. Candice was trying to get me talk to her but everything felt sorta lame. So I never did. I stuck around for the last band cuz I was talking to the drummer and i told him I would. They were called the Dexter Chumley Attack. And they made the night a lot better. Turns out the cute girl I wasn't talking to all night was the singer. I swear it was just like seeing Cobra Youth except if I was cute and a girl and had smaller tits. I was so glad I stuck around. But afterwards I went home. I got a lot more to write but I gotta be at work in like five minutes and I really don't wanna go. Dammit. |
| Saturday, January 19th, 2002 | |
| 8:27 pm | Off beat catterwalling nonstop baby. Yea. I got a job finally. Starting this monday as the new shift manager at a pet store. A fucking manager. That's fucking crazy. I think it's crazy. Me in a sorta managerial position. I think Joey Laurence or Keanu Reeves would sum it up best with a fucking "whoa". I gotta make sure stoner high school kids pretend to be busy the same way I still pretend to be busy. Actually, it's more of a pet supply store but there are some cats, and rodents, and maybe some birds too I think. Should be interesting for like a second maybe. The interview process was done entirely while the manager was on her smoke break looking for a tape gun and juggling puppies. Damage. I went and saw a show in Newport, Ky last night. A band called My Morning Jacket. I damn near fell the fuck asleep. But it was alot more fun than any of the same three local shows they have here every fucking weekend. My Morning Jackoff. That's better. That makes a whole lot more sense. My roommate is having karmic troubles. Bye. Current Mood: fortunate Current Music: the liars |
| Thursday, January 17th, 2002 | |
| 11:00 pm | this stupid blue screen. My monitor is broken. It makes everything fucking blue. Like it's been smurfed. Lauri took me out to eat for lunch yesterday. She has fake boobs and a coke problem and a kid and she wanted to eat at Fricker's. So since I'm not getting paid for getting outta bed these days I was reluctant. Especially not to go sit in a sports themed restaurant and eat food I really won't be able to afford in a week from now with a girl who really only wants to discuss the LL Bean catalogue model she fucked while on vacation visiting her chiropractor pedophile brother who supplied them with ecstacy and leaky waterbeds. But she said if I gave her five bucks she'd cover the rest of the tab. So I ordered chicken and got drunk. I came home and fell asleep. I woke up sober and still unemployed. Kinda pissed at myself for wasting an entire day and not looking for a job. Tomorrow. The girl I was supposed to spend new years with is supposed to be in dayton tomorrow with her wacky all girl anti-josie rock and or roll fiasco. Like a mule eating an apple. It's gonna be disasterous. Damage. Current Mood: awake |
| Tuesday, January 15th, 2002 | |
| 3:49 pm | Beer for breakfast. I've filled out so many applications. Too many. I'm not the type who has a resume or any of that shit, cuz my employment history, atleast to me, is fucking atrocious. It's a bit scattered and if it was pre-planned it would even be referred to as lame-brained fer sure. So far I still have no job prospect out of all the applications I've submitted and babies I've kissed and asses I've kicked, but I do have a new library card. Free dvd's during this time of extended non work seat adjusting is ok. I'm gonna hit up a thrift store tomorrow. But it's a shady not too well lit one and I bet they don't even realize they have a help wanted sign yellowing in their front window right this minute. No job, no girlfriend, no band. It's getting pretty crappy indubitably. I gotta get back at it right now tho'. Current Mood:  okay |
| Wednesday, January 9th, 2002 | |
| 9:28 pm | some old bullshit. lemme have it you fuckers. Like the young man said when he gargled diarhea and masturbated in front of his grandmother, "Why would I do this?" http://www.bettawreckonize.com/gallery_comics.html |
| Tuesday, January 8th, 2002 | |
| 8:40 pm | I lost my grip on the g-string. I found out today that this saturday will be my last day of employment for the lingerie catalogue. So if yr good at turning dumb problems into stupid math, this = me fucked. I knew the job was seasonal, but to just spring the last day like this is pretty rough. I still had two weeks left last I heard. I was totally invited to come back this spring when the seasonal shifts start again, but i told em I don't think my shopping cart is gonna be a reliable mode of transportation when that time comes. So I can't do too much about it. Man, those girls are really gonna miss my moody sneering in the smokey break room. Current Mood:  apatheticCurrent Music: ozma. shooting stars. |
| Wednesday, January 2nd, 2002 | |
| 8:23 pm | cribbage and teenage canasta. connect four. I'm still here. Breathing and stuff. Christmas was fun. for some reason it was a bit morbid. I think my mom hit up all the after halloween sales or something cuz I got a bunch of weird halloween stuff. Which is very cool, but not what you expect on a christmas morning. My grandpa made faces and drank o'douls. I was gonna drink an o'douls with breakfast but I forgot to. I got a dvd player. So now I'm high rollin with my sweet DVD collection: Jesus' Son, Gummo, Army of Darkness, Rock And Roll High School, Meeting People Is Easy, and I think that's it. So a few days before x-mas, me and combs were shopping at this ginormous book store around here, and I bought my mom a calendar. The girl who rang me up was way damn cute. So me and Comb's go to some other stores and the whole time she's trying to persuade me to go back and ask the girl out. Cuz I wouldn't shut up about her and all. So I did. And I got her phone number. She said to call her that night and I didn't say much cuz i felt all dumb anyways. Then me and Comb's went and got drinks at some dive bar and dicussed my awkward psuedo cute girl number success rate for the day. Which was at a full 100% for that day. The girl asks if I want to meet her and her friend at some mexican restaurant bar when I called her, so I grabbed up the Extraordinary Gentleman and he escorted me so he could laugh at my doomedness. So there she is with her friend....and her friend's fucking old ass parents. Ya see what I didn't know at the time was, this girl is only 18! I'm twenty four and that don't go over well with teenager's folks these days. Stuck between one sloshed ass moms and one forboding pops while the two teenagers giggle behind their backs, me and the Gentleman made all polite with our "Gosh Maam" and our "Oh, no sir, I'd never do that" while hovering towards the door. The dad was getting all sauced and said his gang sign was gonna be a middle finger. He made a fist when he did it, and I suggested he try it with a straight hand, knuckles upright way, for a better declaration of his gang hand posture and all. I showed it to him. I don't think he was too down with me being in his gang just yet. Or up on his daughter's friend, who I gathered is basically a second daughter to him, either. Of course he did the whole "if you ever touch my daughter" spiel, and I thought up gang names for him. The young girls invited us back to their friends house, cuz they HAD BEER! This killed me. We took the high road and pretended we lost them on the way. I ended up hanging out with her a few times since then, and even though each time created a more humorous and gut wrenching humiliating story, I have much more to relay and my secretary complains about her carpal tunnel. Silence wench. Little Billy Catfish paid a nice visit to the Gem City. We all hit the town and did the usual stuff, drink, drink, etc. We played banjo, and talked about the one time we double dated these two girls, and watched Brad be a human pinball around the living room breaking stuff more than making me laugh. New year's I guess I should sum up pretty quick. I'm sure you quit reading this around the second sentence anyways. Went to a party, explained to some girl about the difference between Bikini Kill and "lesbian rock". What the hell do I know about that shit wasn't considered till later. At midnight I found myself alone in some retarded ass club looking for someone I told I probably wouldn't meet there, but I wanted a kiss at midnight for a change for some reason. I did see a girl I used to practice new year's kissing with a few years back and when I asked her where she was at midnight she mentioned something about her husband. But it was lost in the bad music and my departure. I headed back to the party and drowned in jello shots and beer and karaoke and the first billion cigarettes of the new year. I got up and went to work the next day dignity intact I guess. I was still alive atleast. Current Mood: accomplished Current Music: Weezer .american girls. |
| Tuesday, December 18th, 2001 | |
| 7:57 pm | I'll just stick around and play Pit Boss till you return. ok? Thanks. The time I've spent completely alone lately is astronomical really. I've begun to have the same conversations with myself without realizing it till later on. I smoke cigarettes like a goddam fiend during times like this. And talk to myself about the cancer that'll get me. And my days are (to me) so uneventful that if this were a day-to-day excitement based club of sorts, my ass would be kicked to the squarish curb toot sweet. And even that wouldn't be eventful enough to steal a password and post about. But I'm used to it. It's winter. It's Christmas seasony. It's supposed to be this way. Only cuz it usually is. I'm getting the itch to leave here again. More like a huge fucking rash of exitdom really. Like that long hooked cane coming from stage right is missing my torso and I'm to blinded by the audience of crickets to hear it's whiffs in the air. I mean, I guess I'm too dumb of hearing to hear....nevermind. And goddam! Whenever I am around anyone, even friends, I have absolutely nothing to say to what they're telling. Usually it's something depressing or something I disagree with but don't feel like expressing myself cuz it's usually something pointless to begin with. Like: who punked out who while in line at a supermarket or like what shitty up and coming hardcore band is totally fucking "sweet". I know these are things that everyone does, feigning, dodging, changing subjects and such, but, I think another side to run mumbling to would make as much difference as I need it to. But it's always like Multiple Santa trying to type with THESE DAMN MITTENS!! I think I wish I was a little bit dumber in the way of thinking and a whole lot smarter in the ways of listening to what commercials tell me to do. I should be in a retirement home already. Bring me my pudding and be quiet doing it! It's posts like these that make my stupid baby picture pretty damn relevant. Damage. Current Mood:  cheerfulCurrent Music: Jesus swearing at a pep rally for retarded children. |
| Monday, December 17th, 2001 | |
| 11:25 pm | goddam. I'm bored. So now I'm a racist at work cuz the lunch lady was offended by the book I was reading. I can't tell you the title cuz it's dumb. Today I went shopping all about. Took care of my secreting satan. I mean Secret Santa. I went on a search for Oh Brother Where Art Thou on vhs but to no avail. I wandered around every Wal-Mart lonely as hell searching. I swept through Target. I bought an MC HAmmer shirt for under 75 cents. Goddam. I really am bored. |
| Thursday, December 13th, 2001 | |
| 9:09 pm | my new "ignoring stuff till it goes away" technique is truely unstoppable. dag. So I'm all loopy. Not doing nuthin lately except work and work, and sleep. Christmas equals numb ass for ten hours where I work. And afterwards I'm too fucking wired on coffee but too exhausted to do anything about it. I have huge, read: a big deal here really, plans for new years, but as of now they're probably not gonna work out. Involves me driving into some small town in virginia, hotel room, and gumption. And the movie Safe Men. But like I said, probably not gonna happen. And I know I sure the fuck don't wanna be in Dayton ohio when Christ comes back to earth to bum change and harsh mellows, so my friends, you know who you are!! What the hell is really going on when the Midnight oh'one strikes my drunken gourd? |
| Sunday, December 2nd, 2001 | |
| 6:00 pm | purchases of the day. Acme Novelty Library #7 http://www.fantagraphics.com/artist/acme/acme.html High Fidelity. http://www.popmatters.com/film/reviews/h/high-fidelity.html Ultimate Marvel Team up: Spider-man and the Fantastic Four. Written by Rucka who usually stinks, but art by Jim Mahfood, who is usually good to go. http://www.grayhavenmagazine.com/interviews/an_interview_with_jim_mahfood.htm A 1973 puffy Wayne Manor/Batman playset with all the figures. I dunno what the hell it's supposed to be really. It's just Batman. It's just kinda old. http://www.ep.tc/ taco bell. gas. a soda. maybe some cigarettes. probably some beer. "how much for that gun?" Current Mood:  boredCurrent Music: Jawbreaker Dear You |
| Thursday, November 29th, 2001 | |
| 9:31 pm | http://www.cjnetworks.com/~cubsfan/consp What They Don't Want You to Know In order to understand getting rich without doing much you need to realize that everything is controlled by a huddle made up of wanna be midgets with tourettes with help from The Amish. The conspiracy first started during The building of the Hershey Highway in your bathroom floor. They have been responsible for many events throughout history, including the emancipation proclamation. Today, members of the conspiracy are everywhere. They can be identified by blinking. They want to kick nuns alcoholics anonymous and imprison resisters in Hades using Unicycles. In order to prepare for this, we all must quit. Since the media is controlled by Librarians we should get our information from Cobra Youth. |
| Tuesday, November 27th, 2001 | |
| 8:29 pm | looking at this city like it was built on a journey song. I dunno. This thing feels like a job interview sometimes. And the job, she do pay "weakly"! "Bearded Clam-burgler or Bearded Clam-Gurgler?" Thank you Sponge Bob, you have crossed the line of good taste into nice, mild, more tangy taste. So I just got home from work. No one is here. I woke up the cats, but they were dreaming of having better owners and cooler stuff, so I was ignored. I fucking read a whole lot at work. Which is nice. Except, I think it's time to dust off the social skills cuz I do not talk to a single person other than the continuous customers that insist on pestering me while I try to read the same sentence over and over again. Walking down the hall I overheard a group of about five or six girls discussing how there were no cute boys at work. I think that was my cue to bolt off crying like Red did when Debo took his chain in Friday. But, I laughed to myself instead. Those zany bitches. On a related note, the other night me, The Extraordinary Gentleman, Braddarrell, and Dearick where standing near a golf video game at this bar. Drinkin', but that's irrelevent. From this position I could over hear a pretty interesting conversation. A stupid girl, who was sitting at a table with about four dipshit dudes, was asked about her taste in guys. They developed a scenario involving us. They had no idea I could hear everyword. They asked her which one out of our group she'd do whatever with, fuck, hold hands, let walk to class, I dunno, I sorta missed that part. But, I kept sorta glancing at them but keeping my gaze just above them to appear to be looking for something beyond them and thusly, not listening. I caught a pretty good sight of her face after this was brought up tho'. With a composure of complete disgust she replied with an "OH MY GOD! None of THEM!" Damage. I decided to try and do something with my fucking brain for change. It has obviously, well, to me, grown stagnant and bland. This dumb journal perfectly documents its decline, although, I don't think it was really up to par to begin with. Ever. Anyways, I'm gonna try doing four track stuff, and put out some form of noise or song or recording under the moniker "The Janitor's Drinking Problem." Cuz I love that name. And hopefully it can be turned into an actual band someday. All my old bandmates who are local can't be bothered right now, and I dunno how to play an instrument. But i think the local cohorts can take the time to record something simple and let me do voice overs. Maybe. Maybe I'll just make shirts. Sharpie-Markers and play-doh. And when the kids in their Trans-Ams start startin' shit, I can point my cigarette at them like it was a knife and say, "Yea, but do you know who Feargal Sharkey is?" Not that he's that great, but a damn impressive name. Current Mood: unattractive Current Music: brady bunch............... , naw, family ties theme. |
| Friday, November 23rd, 2001 | |
| 2:38 am | What was that thing I wanted to remember? I found twenty dollars tonight. The ladies and the drinks flowed thusly. dag. I paid everyone back I ever owed, and the national debt is clean and done now. I found twenty bucks. On the mat in front of where you order drinks. Damamge. Truelly. I'm tired of sleeping alone. |