Tah-misz's Journal [entries|friends|calendar]
Tah-misz

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[08 Mar 2005|12:51am]
YES. I AM EVERYBODY'S DEADLY AND EROTIC CONTACT IN MINSK.

I hate that stupid quiz!
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[06 Mar 2005|04:05pm]
table style='font-family : Arial, Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; border-collapse: collapse; border: 1px solid black;' cellspacing='0' cellpadding='2' align='center'>
Your Dossier by kan420
Username
How do you feel?
What motivates you?
Desired department
CodenameSLUT SAUCE
SpecialtyGratuitous dive-rolls
Favourite gadgetKetamine darts
Primary weaponKatana
Overall combat efficiency: 99%
PsychevalCompletely unethical
Your erotic and deadly contact in Minskleonardofelix
Deep-cover agent; not to be trustedgoji
Quiz created with MemeGen!


Special agent slut sauce, reporting for booty! Did I say booty? I meant duty!

Also, I just witnessed the Next Karate Kid. Which stars, who else, Hilary Swank. And then I read an article ridiculing Clint Eastwood for encouraging youth in Asia.

This has been an odd day.
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[06 Mar 2005|01:04pm]
I've been trying, through any means of science or ciphery, to determine exactly wha the name "Bosephus" means. All of the baby name databases that I've visited, however, are mysteriously silent upon the matter.

How frustrating.
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[04 Mar 2005|04:31pm]
I am sick, gentlefolks. Sick as a hound, sick as a canine. How did I get this way?

Interesting you should ask.

As is local legend, mia familia purchased a Hummer auto-mobile before is was crass to do so, in order to maintain ze lad better. And it has, for the most part, been a trustworthy vehicle. Provided the temperature does not drop below forty degrees. Anyway, you will recall the blizzard that hit the Eastern Coast of the United Shtates of Hamerica? Of course you do - most of you were there. Those of you that weren't, for shame. Anyway, Pater is driving said Hummer (as the French call it, Hummay), and it stops working. And slides several feet off of a back road into a ditch. A cell phone call is made, requesting assistance.

Well, long story short, ALWAYS WEAR SCARVES.

Though it has resulted in a series of events that will lead up to the selling of the car in question. Hozannah.

*coughs feebly, eats soup, drinks wine*
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Man, I'm really scraping for content here. [02 Mar 2005|11:28pm]
A man was walking along the beach with the Lord. Across the sky flashed scenes from his life. For each scene, he noticed two sets of footprints in the sand.

Yet he also noticed that many times along the path of his life there was only one set of footprints. This always happened at the very lowest times of his life.

The man questioned the Lord, "Why did you abandon me when I truly needed you?"

And the Lord smiled down on the man, saying, "During your times of trial and suffering, when you see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you."

To which the man replied, "No, you can see the little Nike swoosh right there, look closer."

And the Lord said, "Oh. OK, I was floating."
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[02 Mar 2005|12:36am]
Holy frijoles, restoring houses is an assault to every sense I possess. Except maybe sound. I've grown to love shrill, electronic whines.
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I should really start going to sleep before 2am. [28 Feb 2005|01:54am]
[ mood | loved ]
[ music | straylight run - existentialism on prom night ]

Okay. So I don't like going places in public.

The problem is that I keep seeing people. Not like that, since I think I'm over misanthropy. I like people. I like being around them when they're busy, and moving from place to place, when they're worried or laughing, and I can sail the coast of their emotions. But I just don't like them when they're sitting in front of me, arm in arm, whispering and such, and I can pick out each and every flaw in them. Their awkward nose, bad sweater, their accent. And what really infuriates me is how I'm still jealous of them.
Okay, fine. A little piece of me. I'm shockingly shy. I'm sure none of you could tell. Really.

I just felt like writing that down, because I so very often forget it. Forget that I can actually choose to not be, that is. Consider this the once-per-month clip on my banzai tree of self. Hopefully.

AND:
Because I don't have a pen, nor a piece of paper -

Tegan and Sara
Death From Above 1979
Pinback

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Movie time! [27 Feb 2005|12:35am]
[ music | Muse - Endlessly ]

Accursed Kojiro, and internet quizzes!

My japanese name is 浜野 Hamano (seaside field) 海斗 Kaito (big dipper of the ocean).
Take your real japanese name generator! today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Name Generator Generator.



Anyway, now that that's out of the way, let's talk about babies.

Harlequin babies.

What? You don't want to talk about babies who are born, covered in hideous cartiligeneous plates? Well... what other kinds of babies could we talk about?

How about Million Dollar babies? Eh? I can see you sitting up straighter in your chair now, your ears taught, your eyes incarnadine with anticipatory flames.

Well, too bad. It's a lot like The Mighty Ducks, except that it does not have 1) Emelio Estevez and 2) a zamboni machine. What does it have? Plucky Hilary Swank, who seems to take on a lot of masculine roles, now that I think about it, and Clint Eastwood, who appears to have been carved straight from the rocks of the Grand Canyon. As well, Morgan Freeman, being black, must get third billing. They all pretty much play to their stereotypes - Heelaree is the plucky girl, out to show the world what she can do, Herr Klint Eastvood is the reluctant coach who turns her into a champ (I hope I'm not ruining the surprise for anyone here), and More-more-morgan Freeman is the sagacious old janitor/old boxer guy with a heart of gold.

Aside from that, yeah, it's pretty much The Mighty Ducks. But not designed for retarded twelve year olds - designed for the discerning palate, that every now and then seeks a little bit of warm-hearted pabulum to remind themselves that NOT EVERY film is about a young doctor, staring out of the window of a train, at a blasted landscape, and remembering his lost love. Whom he also murdered. Nor are they inflammatory documentaries, but I digress. The movie is good, and it does provoke thought upon the nature of success, happiness, love, etc, etc. Eat poison and die.

I can see why it's been positively reviewed, but I wouldn't say it's a deeply, outrageously, fantastically good film. I think it's pretty obvious that the Oscars have been rigged since Gladiator won, though, so that doesn't really matter. What really matters is my opinion! Now dance, my minons, dance! Dance for your master!

Addendum: Holy crap, SixApart, get your act together. At least the old Eljay people could prevent EVERY OTHER POST from being caught in Read-Only mode.
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The most sex-ational post in a long time. [25 Feb 2005|01:39am]
[ mood | MY EYES ARE STINGING ]
[ music | Muse - Butterflies and Hurricanes ]

Thorough update. On the ant story. It still sucks, but.

Well, I originally had something to follow that "but", but now I don't. So I guess it's still just bad. It's good that I'm throwing my time away into something like that.

What is not throwing my time away, however? Why kankuro carrying three scrolls on his back, and some new face paint. If you have to ask what I'm talking about, then you are wasting my time. My *sexy* time. My hot-hot-hot puppet threeway time!

...

Don't look at me like that. I'm perfectly fine.

Anyway, here is the deal - I have been irritable lately. This is not much of a surprise, except to me. Like the mighty lion, with a thorn in his paw, I have an unseen pain, terrible and secret, and I use every opportunity to complain about it. This pain is the fact that I have a flap of flesh - ooh, kinky - covering up one of my back wisdom teeth (the one I like to call "The bad one"). This was okay, because hey, what's the worst that could happen, death from infection? I laugh in the face of something so close to my brain getting infected! Ha ha! But then this flap of fles - ooh, kinky - developed a cold sore on it, because my retainer is a relic from the inquisition. So, essentially, I have a tooth, hideous and jagged, grinding away into an open wound, all day, every day. For the past three days. It is unpleasant, and I've taken to just dousing the blackguard in peroxide. Hydrogen peroxide. I don't like to mess around. So, I made an appointment with a doctor. An Eye doctor. Because I need new glasses. I'm rambling now.

Also, I am building a shooting range. I got to climb around on some rafters today, and had my hands on a pretty powerful screwing mechanism. At first the speed was too fast, but I made it go slower, so there was more torque. I screwed all day today, and in some unusual positions. But it was worth it, to see everything come together. Soon, thanks to my hands, men will be shooting off all day, and most of the night, into my chamber.

...

I should probably start wrapping this up. I want to see a movie about time travel called Primer. Someone with netflix, get this, and tell me if it is any good. Or don't, since I'm not sure as to it's dvdage.

Later, freaks.

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[22 Feb 2005|11:49pm]
I'm writing a story about ants, and it's not very good. Also, I've felt terrible for about two weeks, my gums are swollen, and I haven't done anything for a while.

Things are continuing apace, in other terms. I just remembered that I have a Gmail account. As soon as I figure out how to LJ cut-my-face, I might post the thing. I realize that, should I start writing, I will actually have to be good at it, so I don't have to get a real job. Logically, this is a dismal prospect, but to hell with learning deficiencies! Practice will get me to Carnegie Hall! Yeah! And stuff!
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Narutarded. [22 Feb 2005|02:28am]
[ mood | Dancing Ferret Head ]
[ music | Sodom South Georgia, again. IT'S A NICE SONG! DON'T JUDGE ME ]

Got back. End results of trip:
Old Jewish Women in Central Park are my friends
Evil Bisexual Hipster (is Hipster a swear word yet?) Boys are to be avoided at all costs - repeat, ALL costs
Everyone in New York is fixated on George Bush
Christo and Jean-Claude's gates are the same color of orange as Jean-claude's hair. This is a disturbing thought to keep in mind when walking beneath them. "These gates are old woman hair... these gates are old woman hair..."
The Metropolitan Museum of Art is the happiest place on earth.
I gained eight pounds in five days.

I didn't get to be as much of a tourist as I'd like, but I did get a picture of a post in the world trade center place/proto-place, upon which someone had written "Never forget those who died" with a sharpy in Russian. Well, I thought it was neat.

Oh, and I have a shirt with a number of skulls upon it. And new pants! New everything, in fact, save for shoes.
I am all about consumerism. And I found myself pining for the woods. Things are too fast in cities. Also, my given social set (the "H" word group) are all taller than I am, with cleaner clothes and better complexions. My jealousy at their genetic superiority tastes much better when mixed with impotent revenge fantasies. Or fantasy revenge impotency. Fwee.

Addendum: Gaara is the hottest thing in a Matrix coat since... well, ever.
*feels the Kankuro crush coming back from a mile away*

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Newah Yowak [18 Feb 2005|06:49pm]
[ music | Family in the background ]

Quick update from sister apartmen - people in Chicago are whiners.

Oh, yes, and I had a dream where I was in Hell, only Hell is a lot like being forced to eternally rake leaves in my grandmother's back yard.

I think I was saved through the power of love. You know where else is love? Zabar's. And old women keep talking to me!

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Our endless-numbered days. [16 Feb 2005|09:10pm]
[ music | Iron & Wine - Sodom, South Georgia ]

Maybe Livejournal will let me post this - maybe it will shaft me again. It's like roulette, only with nothing good happening. Only a bowl of pain.

An in joke - don't feel bad.

Anyway, I head out on a jet-train (okay, a normal train) tomorrowtimes, avec mis madre. Where does the train go? To New York City, of course. To visit sister dear for her birthday. And to eat things. New York, to my eyes, is simply a hive of wondrous restaurants, each one promising something different and deli-sauce. They're roughly the only place in the world where I can stand being in a crowd for more than forty minutes.

Speaking of things I will grow tired of in less than an hour, I must see the arches that abound in Central Park. Because I'm a tourist, goshdarnit, and I'm going to tour the kitsch. Further complexes about NYC - at all the places I go to, people dress like me, only cleaner. I have no identity! Great wrath! Furious anger!

I will almost certainly have an internet connection. If this is the case, (mapp) a dinner is required.

Regardless, I digress, and ramble. If I could live in an empty, perpetually damp forest that also contained a number of Michelin four-star restaurants, I would be happy forever.

Anyway, I enjoy it how the only other person in all of Eljay to have "the permian extinction" as one of his interests is all into social activism. Chicago is postponed again. I have ADD! My arms are sore! AAHHHH

Addendum - Gaia, I love you - why won't you let me post on you? Why does hitting "main forum index" mean "take me to an empty white screen, and then an error message". Why you gotta be like that?

Addendum mk 2 - I want to hear Iron & Wine cover The Earth Died Screaming. I think it would create the calmest song devoted to the end of times since Leibach coverd that Beatles album. Sorta. Well, it would be one musical entity reinventing a song crafted by another musical entity who appears to be a diametric opposite. You know what? Shut up. I don't have to take this from you.

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What is wrong with me? [15 Feb 2005|01:24am]
Voluminous greetings, brief mortals. Or mortal briefs! Tee hee!

Ribald!

Regardless, I caught a bit on Fox News (the most powerful name in news), wherein the co-creator of CNN was touting his new novel, something along the lines of Ted and Me. Regardless, he made a very interesting metaphor of equating the big news networks with Chronus, only at once devouring and being devoured by his own children. It was aided immensely by the fact that when the man smiled, his skull was visible, along with his massive teeth. He looked like a wolf. Had he pointy ears, I would swear he was up for eating my grandmother, and then myself. Sadly, the rest of the interview was typical over-aggressive anchorman garbage. But the image stayed with me. You know. Of an old man, dressed like my grandmother, swallowing me whole.

Happy Valentines!

Yesterday!

I usher in the new day with stew - it's a pleasant mix of Veal and Pork. It's not kosher, but it sure is tender. Along with tiny carrots and peas. Mmm-mm. I feel it's also important here to denote (which is, to say, remove the notes from) something I once heard a buddhist in a movie say, which is that when we love something, we wish to possess it, and we kill what we possess. I'm not sure how to react to this, because it's mostly been my experience (this morning) that the things we (I) love are often the things that try to kill us (me). Also scoring high in the Bothering Of Me score is another thing I heard a different buddhist say in a different movie is that the Buddha smiles because he loves every living thing. Does movie-buddha so love the earth that he must kill every living thing?

I instantly imagined the Buddha, face contorted in Kabuki rage, using a bloody machete, bearing only blood-spattered overalls and similarly grim machete, hacking apart a large styrofoam globe in outer space. So think about this as you wine and dine your sweethearts! The Buddha is out there, in space, just waiting with baited breath and rusty machete, for the moment that we turn our backs - and then WHAM! HACK! STAB! Mighty space buddha laughs, and turns his dire gaze upon the next inhabited planet.

No more earth! Be warned! Let us not fall to the same fate as mars, fellow earthlings, but rather rise up, and destroy lord Buddha with our most powerful nuclear weaponry!

Update from the scene - we love The Bravery, because The Bravery loves Ninja Gaiden. Steal their music, internet imps, steal!
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[13 Feb 2005|03:16pm]
As I sit here, ladies and gentlefolk, I am totally posting from a laptop with a wireless modem. The future is here, and it revolves entirely around being connected with pointless vanity journals!

Excelsior!

Also, free sunday new york times is piratey love.
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[12 Feb 2005|01:08pm]
So, anyway, I'll be up in meadville in a few hours. I expect some of you devils to not even be awake, or too busy playing D&D; to notice. Later, monkeys!
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DEAREST MOST SECRET DREAM JOURNAL; [12 Feb 2005|02:42am]
[ music | Iron and Wine ]

So, the Knights of Columbus foil me again. No matter. Soon the destructo device, created by doctor Heinshvits and his lovely daughter shall be mine. Never mind that excreble Kent Dashing, and his little knights.

Bwa ha ha!

Also, feta cheese is still good on pizza. I don't know why I never remember this. Also, for the alleghenians, I'll be up in the afternoon. Try to be awake and sober, won't you? I'm bring my lap top - the one with the wireless hooha - so I'm going to try it out in the wireless hoohaghed places on campus. It probably won't work, but if nothing else, it's an expensive typewriter. With solitaire, built right in!

Anyway, I had a disturbing dream last night, wherein I was wearing my ratty old boots. Never mind why all of my dreams revolve around what I'm wearing on my feet, god, shut up for a second. Christ. Anyway, I was wearing my old boots, the ones with the bad shoelaces, and the Pope was coming to visit. That's right, the Pope. Old guy. Was sick. So he shows up, everyone's cheering, I'm watching the parade, and the Pope stops the whole procession, and points at me from his popemobile. "Hey," he says, "That kid needs to tie his shoes." I look around, looking for whatever person needs to have the Pope tell them to tie their shoes. Turns out it's me. "Oh no," I say, "That's alright, your holiness. The laces are just really old, you see. I got these at this thrift store..." but it's no good. He's too kindly. The Pope gets down off of his armored scooter, and walks up to me. "Bless you, my son," he says as he slowly kneels down, and with his ancient, arthritic fingers, begins tying my shoes. It takes a long time, because he's so old, and there are all these cameras. And then he stops moving. And falls over.
The Pope died tying my shoes.
And I was just caught in this unbearable wave of sadness that God's representative on earth, the least evil pope in all of recorded time, died tying the shoes of some lapsed ingrate. I woke up feeling so sad that this is all that goodness has amounted to - a lot of wasted, basically superfluous effort by an old man onto an unapreciative audience.

Then I woke up and realized, really, how silly that sounds.

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[09 Feb 2005|01:18pm]
Good morning, good morning, and how do you do?
You look like a monkey that's escaped from the zoo.
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Unnecessary entry # whatever. [07 Feb 2005|11:52pm]
Went on a decent-to-large walk today, ran into John Sobota, scared some deer. It's unusually spring-like weather 'round there here parts, so I'm taking advantage of it, and muddying the cuffs of my pants. That's right - cuffs. On pants. Have I blown your mind yet?

Well, buckle up. I'm just getting started.

City of Heroes has reached it's "This is more aggravating than fun" level again. So, I guess there's on addiction down for a while. I still need to make a character post about it, too, something that I said I'd do, but then got too caught up playing City of Heroes to actually follow through on. Cest la vie. It's interesting - the more character customization they offered, the more flaws I found in it. A much similar situation arises with television, in that the more stations there are, the less there is to watch. Unless it's Carnivale, in which case I'm all up in there.
I pointed this out in Brick, too, but has anyone else seen the Gwen Stefani video wherein she and Eve are dressed as pirates, and sing and dance with their sexy pirate crew? I will say this now, gentle readers - I like pop music. Some of it, anyway. I like it, for it is made to be liked. And I like Gwen.

;_;

Also, my Bjork Post cd is too scratched up to listen to anymore. It's aggravating, because I can only hear as much of the songs as makes me realize how much i liked that cd. On the morrow, I consume, wholesale, all that the mall, thrift, and mom+pop stores offfer to me, all so that I might have this scratch itched. Am I part of the problem? Do I care?

Upon reading Jack Chick's "Muslims, Catholics, and Jews are all evil" tract, I say no, no I am not. Evil minded fuckwads are the problem.

Consider your minds blown, as well as your pocketbooks.
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[07 Feb 2005|03:29am]
Movies I must see again/in totality: Kicking and Screaming, Tape, The Last Days of Disco, Spartan, Noe
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