Tuesday, August 29, 2006

WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!

I'm gonna go light some firecrackers down the road! I hope they work, cause I found them at the bottom of my closet. And if people come running out asking what I'm doing, I'll reply:

I'll do graffiti if you sing to me in french!

Sow that confusion in their minds. Let them know that I never forget....never...

FOOOOORGGGGGGIIIIIIIVVVVEE!

Friday, August 25, 2006

Rolling with Jane Austen, foo


When I was younger, my sister used to force me to read Jane Austen books with her. So I am unfortunate enough to know a fuckload of those novels. I know to use 'Persuasion' to line my walls to keep in the heat, and Pride and Prejudice to get the fire started. 'Sense and Sensibility' should be used (instead of 'Emma') if you find yourself short on toilet paper, only because it is the only 18th century novel that feels like 3 ply. 'Emma' is only good for preserving meat, or maybe as a source for serial killers to cut out letters so they can write their creepy letters. After saying all that though, I don't mind the novels. Who doesn't like to read about smouldering glares from across the ball room? Pompous language that holds back the swelling of emotions that these protaganists try to hold back. Dry, "I-can-sand-the-edges-of-highschool-woodwork-projects", wit. Class-less women, hoisted by parents towards the Bingley's, and the Darcy's, and the Wick's... gentleman that fell asleep years ago.

When I first read these novels (or heard my sister read them) I, unfortunately, started to emulate the way of speaking. It still happens today (to an extent) when I read my 18th century mystery/thrillers. I get a desire to ride horses across fields, and call on eligible young women to join me at my castle. Ancient speech pops into my head. I really don't know why I'm writing this. Maybe it's because I just watched the most recent cinema adaption of Pride and Prejudice. The novel aped by Bridget Jones and her diarys. If I had to sum it up in a couple of seconds? Pretty good. I didn't even mind Keira 'Horse face neigh neigh' Knightly. Seriously, Knightly has 2 expressions. Her normal face, and her 'emotion' face, which consists of her looking like she just smelled her own flatulence.

Yes. I'm re-reading Pride and Prejudice right now. To balance it out, and regain some of my manliness mojo, I will leave my internet downloading porn in the background.

Damn you Mav the stealth, poker shark. Don't you know I'm God of Gambler? and possibly loco?

Friday, August 18, 2006

There's movement in the hills

Who was the first person to truly move you? Someone who made you see beyond your meager boundaries. The leg up to see over the hills.

I knew a girl once. When I was 15. She was a year older than me. A runaway, living with her friends. She was not a super hot goddess or a person of stupendous intelligence. Quite plain now that I think back. She had a small, sing-song voice. Like bells. And the most remarkable eyes. The phrase "dancing eyes" is an apt description. They were her wells, and they sucked in her surroundings. It seemed like she was always seeing things from above, like watching from a mountain. A glass pane, behind a glass pane, behind a glass pane... and laughter and defiance behind. She would draw those remarkable things towards you, and stare earnestly. She had a habit of staring that way for just a tiny bit too long, and it felt like she had slipped a hand under your shirt. We were friends and companions. But nothing as concrete as boyfriend and girlfriend. I was more her student, and she the unknowing teacher. I idolized her. It was like finding fire for the first time.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

Pelvic thrusting to keep morale up


The other day I worked in Springvale clearing out a small factory. It was an easy job that a guy I know set up. I had 2 other guys working with me. Clearing boxes. Sweeping floors. Same old. Well, same old until the other 2 guys stopped working. I didn't see them for a good 20 minutes so I went looking for them. I found the lazy fucks, in a corner, shooting up junk. It took them a good smack heads amount of time to turn around and notice me. It was like the face turned before the eye's did. "hey homes" (they thought I was Sherlock Holmes?) "Want some?". "Get up and work ya lazy fucks!". Laughter. What a great week. WOOOOOOOOOO what a great week. if only I didn't have to pay so much this month. Life is grand, til it ain't.

I haven't been well this month. I thought I had things finally under some decent control. My car crash continues to suck my vitals out. Pay more, pay more. It would have been fine if I had some work this month

Sunday, August 13, 2006

Thunder, lighting and a bit of BOOM BOOM

DRUNK RUNK DRUNK DRUNK!!w wait, how about this tides you over till my head is replaced and I can think?

What is the worst thing you've been caught doing?

BOULDER DASH! POPPY COCK!

Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Darling won't you come, run away with me. I want to belong, but I'd rather be free



Fun with street art.

Saturday, August 05, 2006

Iron & Wine

I can't sleep again and all I have in my head is the cycling of the phrase "Tonight we're the scent of your long black hair". I can tell you right now that I can see forever. Maybe I should attempt to knit some brainslugs as presents. I tried once before and couldn't even get started. Or maybe I should just hoff down some painkillers and hope they zonk me out.

Friday, August 04, 2006

It's 222-2222

I have waited 2 days for people who have given me 10 days to pay. Waiting and listening to that infernal "please-hold" music. Waiting for my chance to talk and turn my voice into some sort of cock-shaped soundwave so I could plunge it repeatedly through their skulls. But all I get is the message bank ('cause Debbie isn't here yo) and a promise that she will call me back. Did I ring fucken Del La Soul or something?

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

I can see the soles of your shoes


My dad was diagnosed with cancer in 2000. Which prompted me to reel my life back from the cycle of guilt and oblivion chasing I had been embarking on. It gave me a purpose and another chance at helping someone live. Purpose. Real purpose. Purpose in life, purpose in career, purpose in love. I guess it's a trait of my core character. I have never truly been able to neatly fit myself in this world. I have a guilt ridden need to find my purpose, I need to believe that I am here, and this is there and you are over there and everything is what it should be. It always manifests itself as a need to help people live. Not that I am nice, but more I am driven by memories. I think that I can find my core being hiding behind the frogger machine in the fish and chip shop. I watch my friends, thinking they have it. A clear sense of their being. Maybe they do, maybe they don't. It's ironic though that as my father was dying, I found new life sparkling in the wells of my soul. A second chance to make amends.

There really wasn't much I could do though. Sit with him. Crush his medicine and food and inject it into his stomach. I had all this willing energy, but I couldn't do enough. I wished I could flex my muscles and punch reality. I watched him, thinking that if I made him laugh more, the disease wouldn't spread so quickly. Laughter was all I could do for him. I sat by his bedside, watching him breath, cycling through the same thoughts "I've let him down. I've let them both down. Please, you can't take both from me". Please. please. please.

I hate that I can't answer everything. Can't be there all the time. Can't do everything. Can't fix all problems. I also hate that I can't say "I've been through what has happened to you" and explain how to take all the pain away (have I told you?). But I stand muted and angry at myself. I'm sorry about your father. I'm sorry S.S. I'm sorry to my family for making a mess of things again. I'm sorry for spilling the milk. Sigh, sigh fucken sigh. I know what you're thinking. "Neurotic fuckwit". And really, that's not far from the truth. I'm really trying to explain myself, to myself.

And now I have an annoying eye lash in my eye, so I will type no more for now.

Except for Superman Returns goes for waaaaay too long. I think at one point, Lois Lane whispered into Superman's ear "When is this movie going to end?"