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LiveJournal for Boiling hard in euphemism.
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| Monday, November 29th, 2004 |
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This, I do believe, has given me that long sought aneurysm. I clicked on the link from Google because of the retarded sounding name Phinneaus Walter Moder. Now, I go in and out of consciousness at work. Who wouldn't? Transcribing dictations from insurance salesmen is pretty dreary. But when I saw that name, like something straight out of a horrid amalgamation of Thackery and Trollope stories, I figured something must be wrong. There was no way that I somehow found myself in the 19th Century. Then I remembered that Julia Roberts was infected with twins and clicked on the link. What the fuck is wrong with rich, famous people? Don't they realize that young Phinneaus is going to get the crap kicked out of him until he gives up and starts going by Walter--at which point, he'll still get pounded by prep school geeks until he's home-schooled. Odd thing is the daughter's name is not that stupid: Hazel Patricia. Phinneaus? Anyway, there's more good stuff in that article. Like this quote from Britney Spears: "A lot of people think you should wait till you're older to have kids," Spears says. "I've had a career since I was 16, have traveled around the world & back and even kissed Madonna! The only thing I haven't done so far is experience the closest thing to God - and that's having a baby. I can't wait!" No, Britney. The closest your white trash ass is going to get to God is when I shuck you with a sharpened Jesus dildo. I hope she makes more statements like this one so people can think she's got some kind of God complex. The worst is last, though. The AFLAC duck will appear in the Lemony Snicket movie. AFLAC is paying the producers $5 million. The director wanted the duck in the movie to provide comic relief. I hate this country. I hate insurance. I hate ducks. I fucking HATE ducks. |
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I watched Oliver Stone's Alexander last night. I hope that Uncle Sam doesn't throw me in jail for downloading a pirated movie, because it was absolute horse shit. Seriously. It was one of the worst, most confusing movies I have ever seen. That and there were gratuitous Irish accents out of nowhere. But, really someone should inform Ollie that the Macedonians and the Greeks were two different people. And Farell's acting was horrid. The "inspirational" battle speeches were just Braveheart-lite screams of tired cliches. Mel Gibson had a Christ complex, so it was at least motivating in that movie because I felt like Mel actually believed what he was saying. Farell was just goddamn annoying. My other complaint about the movie is pretty superficial: Colin Farell's hair looked fucking retarded. Am I supposed to believe that a man who can't properly dye his hair can conquer the world? I don't think so. For the entirety of the film I was plagued with the idea that Alexander was just some idiotic ex-jock trying to find his sensitive side in fashionably "edgy" bisexuality while wearing a Halloween outfit purchased at Hot Topic. I had to resort to my imagination because the movie was so boring. As for the, relatively tame, homosexuality in the movie: this actually pisses me off the most. People aren't seeing this movie because of the homosexuality. People shouldn't see this movie, I have no problem with Stone losing money; but they shouldn't see it because it's a piece of shit, not because they find the idea of two men together uncomfortable. Now what will probably happen is that the low box office numbers will give fundies and other crazy assholes in this country legitimacy in their beliefs. |
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| Friday, November 26th, 2004 |
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Had the Dreaded Conversation with Jordan last night. Went rather well. I think this will be more of a respectful acquiescence to a force outside of my control as opposed to a violent severing of a connection. My relationship with her has taught me a lot about myself and all that sort of nonsense. I'm glad that I did, in fact, get in touch with her because I was very, very tempted (and I think she was too) to just never try and talk with her again. Probably would have regretted that. Now, of course, the only thing I regret is that I didn't talk to her about this sooner and that I projected all of my uncertainty into a "oh my god, you don't want to talk to me anymore" paranoia I'm sure she saw through because she, unlike me, is not an idiot. But, I repeat: I'm happy about this. I felt it needed to be done for the emotional stability of the both of us and I'm glad we could do it without losing respect for each other. She said that she wouldn't feel this way about anyone else; "first love and all that jazz" were her exact words. I'm not sure if that's entirely true: on the one hand, neither one of us wanted to really be in love, and we saw how well that turned out; but at the same time, I think I know her well enough to understand that she (rightfully, this is one of the lessons I've learned from her) places her emotional serenity above feelings of base sentiment. Whatever. Regardless, it was actually nice to hear. Not because I'm a self-obsessed romantic, but because the first person I fell in love with is a cunt who I hope rots in a shallow, unmarked grave--or, even better: gets ground up in a wood-chipper and used as fertilizer. Come to think of it, Jordan is pretty much the only ex that I don't want to die. This is weird. I've ended a relationship with someone and I'm not freaking out about it. If this is a sign of things to come, then the only thing I have to say is it's about freaking time. My dad lives out in the sticks now. About fifty minutes from town. Which is going to make seeing people pretty much impossible. (Sorry Miranda, I'll pick up Valentine during my Winter break.) But I had a good Thanksgiving dinner with Penny's family. I think that they may all not think I'm a psychopathic introvert anymore. Bonus. However, my resistance to being inculcated with enough common familial sense to allow myself into their little clan has been a point of personal and intellectual pride for me these past several years. I realize the arrogance of this and understand that I need to jettison it in favor of a stronger relationship with my father and the people who love him now. This isn't really a break for me. There's a Law and Order marathon on TNT that I really want to watch, but I have work to do. This holiday is one of great sacrifice for me, it seems. |
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| Tuesday, November 23rd, 2004 |
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I would really like to have that damned (wrong word, confusing punk metastatement, pretentious parenthetical? I make myself look like an ass. You decide) Buzzcocks' song stop being continually relevant in my life. (It's on a mix CD with the New Order song, in case anyone's feeling nitpicky) Speaking of relevance, I need to regain normal sleeping habits. I need to evolve into a fully functional adult. But I'm American. Don't have to believe in evolution. That's an odd article, let me tell you. Most people believe God made us as we are now. But most still want evolution taught in the schools. I have a solution: make Creationism and Evolution competing electives. I'm sure Biology teachers would appreciate it. You could make all the ugly teachers do Creationism. That would teach the kids. Definitely not the kind of image my God would create. All ugly people are stupid because they are different from me. And just for all you slaphappy superficial-slanderers, that's ugly as opposite of inherent quality. Like nobility. People who think Tolstoy is too conservative need to read Aksakov's Family Chronicle. Good read. But talk about idealistic praise of masculine virtue. It's like the best thing about a man is his ability to restrain himself from murdering people when they oppose him. If that's the case, I'm some kind of ultra-manly lumberjack, eating steel pancakes made from my own sweat and toil. That is to say that they magically appear when I'm tired. Damn, that would be nice. I just walked down to the gas station and was propositioned for gas money and sex. By the same person. She didn't even have a car. Verily I was confused. I told her I didn't have any more cash, having dropped my last three bucks for a couple packs of strawberry mentos and an Iced Tea. Reminded me that there was an ATM inside. When the hell did hookers get so damned pushy? I suppose it's to be expected, what with there being a war on and all. I wonder if any budding economists at this place would be willing to investigate. Whatever. Answer's pretty obvious, I suppose. I had a strange dream last night. I was standing on this balcony, talking to Jordan. All of a sudden, some kind of half-penguin/half-lizard-monster-from-th I hate writing again. Too many qualifiers. I want to speak with emphatic grunts and violent gesticulations. Kill two monstrous, video game amalgamations with one shining, glorious sword to boot. No more need to update this journal. |
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| Monday, November 22nd, 2004 |
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Okay. I realize that not everyone understands the subtle differences of the Slavic dialects as well as I do. But, then again, I'm a goddamn genius. You know, what with my barely passing a whopping three semesters of language studies. But as this article about the Putin administration's WE MUST NEVER FORGET WHAT JUST HAPPENED IN GEORGIA "election" in Ukraine makes perfectly clear: few people can differentiate between the two presidential candidates because their names are so similar. Viktor Yushchenko: Ukrainian. A nationalist. Liberal. Western oriented reform candidate. Viktor Yankuvich: Putin puppet. Russian. -VICH is the ending for the Russian Patronymic and is also a very common ending to a lot of Russian surnames. -CHENKO is an extremely common Ukrainian ending for surnames. It's not really that freaking hard you lazy bastards. |
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Everyone knows and loves James Traficant that rascally, insane scamp who got booted from Congress for getting his lawn mowed by a Mexican or something and then selling a boat for a little bit higher than Blue Book value. This was around the time that Ken Lay was hoping about the country in Air Force One doing lines of coke off the taut, muscular asses of South American peasant boys with Dubya, so you can see how much of a lightning rod for criticism the man had to become. He also said many hilarious things during his time in public service: ( Read more... ) |
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| Sunday, November 14th, 2004 |
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I feel like I've lost a dear friend. I got really pissed reading the articles in the mainstream press (Reuters and the New York Times, specifically) that were somewhat making fun of ODB. They quoted his mother as saying that "he was the kindest, most generous soul on Earth." Thus making her sound just as crazy as her son. The full quote is "My son, Russell Jones, passed away. To the public, he was known as Ol' Dirty Bastard. To me, he was known as Rusty, the kindest and most generous soul on earth." Which gives a little bit more context and humanity to her statement. He wasn't just some crazy, coked-up silly man. Behind a lot of his more humorous stunts was a big element of truth regarding the sorry state of popular hip-hop--in '98 he stormed on stage to protest Puffy getting a Grammy and to let the world know that Wu-Tang should have gotten the award because he just dropped a small fortune on a brand new suit and then uttering the now famous: "Wu-Tang is for the children." I think the best crazy ODB story, though, has to be when he was arrested for possession of crack and he politely asked the officers to "make the rocks disappear" because it would negatively affect his standing as a role model. Sadly, for me anyway, very few of the articles I read mentioned the fact that he once ran out of a recording studio to save a little girl who was trapped underneath a burning automobile that had just been in a wreck. Maybe that doesn't make up for the crack, and the craziness; but it shows that he was more than just poster child for disaffected suburbanites who just can't get enough irony. |
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| Thursday, November 11th, 2004 |
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| ( Read more... ) | ||||
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| Tuesday, November 9th, 2004 |
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Finally, I was hit by a car tonight on my bike home from work. I had been expecting it, really; and am pretty glad that I've gotten it out of the way with relatively little damage done to either the bicycle or myself (much less valuable as a form of transportation). Every day, through each and every intersection, I run the risk of being hit by someone too lazy to look both ways while turning right when it's me who's got the right of way. Granted, I could slow down. Fair enough. But what, really, would be the fun of that? If I have to do this same bleak, hostile route five days a week then I want it to be a little exciting. The actual event wasn't too entertaining--whether that's good or bad, God up high only knows--a minivan driven by a recently (rich) retired (mid 40s) man on some late night run to fetch ice cream, or whatever the fuck his increasingly nagging and unattractive ball and chain is demanding from him this night barely clips the tire of an unsuspecting young adult witlessly pedaling home on a borrowed bicycle. Lad eats grass, jumps up with an effortless brush off on the shirt and pants--no, really folks, he's as as dexterous as Kelly in a Gershwin number--stares quizzically at the driver. No insurance is given. Only pleasantries and formal declarations of obviously just being involved in some crazy kind of inter-transportational mix-up, nothing to get too carried on about. It's only until after he waves the mission bound minivan man into the night that the lad realizes the bike's rear tire has been compromised and the vehicle rendered useless. So, the walk home was fun. But I'm fine and healthy and just played some Zelda for about five hours. Life could be worse. |
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| Sunday, November 7th, 2004 |
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| I just remembered that a homeless Moldovan tried to sell some homemade wind chimes to Miranda, Eric and me last night. | ||
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| Thursday, November 4th, 2004 |
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Fuck you,  David Frum Dear Jesus this pisses me the fuck off: David Frum's Diary ( I haven't ranted in a while. I apologize in advance if I'm rusty. ) |
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| Tuesday, November 2nd, 2004 |
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| ( The election is making my soul weep ) | ||
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It's shit like this that recharges my optimism. Best part? "In his lawsuit, Kelly said Friday night's incident marked the latest example of how Jay-Z and his associates turned what had been an 'historic and highly anticipated tour ... into a nightmare' that was 'motivated by spite and jealousy.'" |
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| Saturday, October 23rd, 2004 |
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| Neat | ||
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| Thursday, October 21st, 2004 |
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This is probably one of the most retarded things I've seen on Livejournal. Not only is the enemy of my enemy my friend, but he's also a man deserving immense sympathy from the international community. |
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| Wednesday, October 20th, 2004 |
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Disneyland-style Theme Park Planned for Chechnya. Just look at Sergei Abramov's face. That is the look of a genius in severe contemplation. I hope he gets blown up on the Tea Cup ride. 
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Reading this entry depressed me for some reason. Probably because of unfulfilled expectations or whatever. And the next entry made me realize that I think there are still about 48 people here that need to die if I ever get too angry. Lucky for you Gang of 48 that I have found my old copy of De La Soul's:  Happiest album. I mean they sample Steely Dan and Kraftwerk. Not to mention others. Prince Paul was a good man. I am in a good mood. Maybe. |
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| Monday, October 11th, 2004 |
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| ( I'm LJ cutting this because it contains a photo of a Russian woman I find attractive. ) | ||||
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| Saturday, October 9th, 2004 |
| Thursday, October 7th, 2004 |
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LiveJournal for Boiling hard in euphemism.
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