Saturday, March 09, 2002
Gravity Kills |5:44 AM|
Well, I'd say the lowpoint of my evening came about 1.2 seconds after someone pushed my legs the wrong way, ruining my balance over the keg. The idea was simple. Plant hands on the trashcan holding the keg, push up feet to press against the ceiling, drink pressurized beer. Christ, I hate beer. A lot. Why was I doing this? Because apparently I'm an idiot. But moving right along, the trick was working properly at first, my eyeballing the distances involved had been nearly perfect. I was wedged beneath the ceiling and the trashcan, and I was using a VERY important crossbeam for steadying. Now, being upside down isn't that disorienting, but then having high pressure beer (Christ, I hate beer) blasted down your throat FUCKS with your breathing rythym. Problem 2 occurred when someone didn't understand what was going on and tried to "steady" me by pushing forward on my legs, thus taking away the only thing keeping me steady (the pressure on the roof. This caused what nearly became "Catastophic Failure" of the trick.
I'm tired.

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Friday, March 08, 2002
|6:56 PM|
I am very thankful the water was turned back on in my apartment. A water main broke, and that's just a DRAG. I am also thankful that when I awoke half dreaming a few minutes ago, that what appeared to be a bird sized moth flying away from my face turned out to be a clump of my cat's tail carried on the wind of my fan, as the cat had stuck it's tail in my nose to wake me up.
It's an interesting way to start the weekend.
Meep!

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|4:25 PM|
I'm damned thankful for a lot of things, but some really basic things occurred to me today, and I don't know why. One is eelskin wallets, and another is that my blood clots when I'm hurt. Also, despite being the offspring of a family line of drunk, irresponsible, abusive, addictive behavior plagued, bastards who would have been gangsters had it not interfered with their boozing and gambling, I think I'm doing pretty well for myself. I didn't end up like my crack addict cousin, burdened by a child with birth defects likely brought on by her chemical abuse, who had to steal silverware from my great aunt until said great aunt dropped dead of eyeball cancer. Wait, no, that was her sister that had the eyeball thing. She died after being dragged around the country by my crazy half cousin. Oh, geez, that was a goddamn soap opera. My crazy uncle/cousin/whatever runs off with my great aunt when she started to go senile. He kept moving her from state to state, and finally (she lived in Detroit) we found out that she had died in Ohio.


This was supposed to be about what I was thankful for, I guess Not Being Someone Else in my family. I was going to buy a cheap ass kite today, it was absolutely perfect yesterday. I was half tempted to quit my job and go make whistles out of leaves of grass. Instead, I decided to wait and see how things fell. It is now 50 degrees and raining. Soon, the thunderstorm will start. And since I don't particularly feel like being struck by lightning, I guess I'll rent Darkman. Drat. Okay, dammit, things I'm thankful for... long distance communication on the cheap. Friends that will listen to my stupid bullshit. Friends that trust me with their stupid bullshit. The way the chopsticks just hold those noodles long enough to get them to your mouth but not so long you bite down on wood.

Alright, I fully intend to make a happy and uplifting post within the next couple...hours.


Eelskin wallets are durable, pretty, feel interesting, and make an easy exit from my pocket when I need to spend more money. I know that somewhere, an eel died to make my wallet, but I've seen eels. They're slimy and pissed off. I'm sure they'd eat my face and make a wallet out of my stomach.

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Thursday, March 07, 2002
The Contents of this link are unknown. Proceed at own Risk |3:19 PM|
I don't remember how I got this link, why I got this link, or why I happened to click this particular bookmark. But I did, and I remember that I've been meaning to post this for a while, then totally forgot about it. I've only looked at a couple of...whatever these are, and I'm impressed. The best term I can come up with them is "Haunting". It reminds me, to a certain extent, of Bosche. (I'm probably misspelling that). Both seem to have almost an arrogant or superior air to their work, and the sort of emotional content that is often incorrectly referred to as angst nowadays. But I'm captivated, nonetheless, by what I've seen so far. I haven't even looked at the sites home page yet, I really should. The Link in Question

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My tattoo glows when I'm angry |12:43 PM|
People break too easily. For something with such incredible potential, humans die faster than Galapagos turtles, have a food tube from the mouth that's connected to the air tube (Bad!), and aren't really designed to walk upright. Generally, an unarmed human couldn't take on a wolf or ape of equal weight without being pulled apart with contemptible ease. Yet we shape the face of the earth, pull metal from the ground and build monuments to our greatness, collect and record as much information as we can lay our hands on (often not questioning how useful it is Right Now, but hope It Will Be). Still, at the end of your days, all the acquired knowledge, all that experience goes...somewhere. If there is no afterlife, then it's the question of "where does the music go when you burn the tape?". There really ought to be a way to store that information, in something other than an autobiography.

I'm still flirting with the idea of a tattoo, even though I'll probably never go through with it unless there is critical info that MUST be kept permanently on me. I was thinking of having something truly massive done, on my back. Something that wouldn't show through clothing, but if seen would inspire awe or wonder. If I'm going to get something that permanent done, it had better be interesting to look at, since it's going to be attached for some time. This might be something worth looking into, as it has enough depth to fascinate for a long time. However, I've only seen one tattoo place that could pull off Giger-esque work and that was limited to arm and legs. This has caught my eye before. The issue is, just as I think I would still be fascinated by those images almost as much as I would be by this famous waterfall if I wanted that on me, I'd buy the shirt.

While looking through Giger images trying to find the ones I recalled, I came across this unusual collection of mice images. The link is actually not one that I think Zusty would dig. While she has cute and fun mice, the rats and mice pictured here are...well... Absolutely Horrifying


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Haunted Poker |12:57 AM|
I took a buddy of mine that some of you readers might know as "Spook" to the poker game. He didn't lose his shirt, actually made a buck. I, on the other hand, had some colossally bad luck, and though I tried valiantly, I lost my shirt. And I was just thinking about how big an issue hubris is in today's world. Criminy.

Golly gee whizz and stuff. I'm glad I once again resisted my stupid spending impulses to get 1. A pizza 2. A kite 3. a new Hard drive. They all occurred to me with the rubber stamp "Good Idea" on them, and thank goodness I realized they were BAD ideas. Stupid impulsive shopper brain!

I also played a bit of HALO this evening. I've decided that playing Halo is something like digging for gold. You try REALLY hard, it's backbreaking labor, but you see the glimmers, and sometimes you hit the freakin' JACKPOT. Case in point, lost in a room for ages and ages because it's the same damn room as all the rest of them, and you're about to quit the game in frustration. However, you get out side, and you're being strafed by an enemy "Banshee" (Flying Hovercraft). You dodge as best you can, come up with the rocket launcher, and take aim. You stand your ground as the blasts strike all around you, pulling the trigger at the precise moment, sending the rocket directly into the main mass of the attack craft. The thing blows apart, and through the zoom you see the alien that was riding around inside tumble outward, violently dismounted as the hulk slams into the ground. Then you get to beat people on the back of the head with a shotgun. I mean, that's entertainment right there.

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Wednesday, March 06, 2002
|4:42 PM|
Dammit. This is an update. Poker has been modified. Not enough FOLKS. Drag. Well, guess I'll just have to get good going up against The One Who Taught Me.

So my boss thinks I'm getting too "bleeding heart". Don't get me wrong, this isn't about value of life, this is about value of lifestyle and ideals. A country simply should not stand for random attacks.

I've got an entire Gallon of Orange Juice in the fridge. This is an excellent thing. My cat has yet to attack and damage my daisies. It's windy, but warm, like 75. It's disgustingly ideal weather. I asked my boss why we're inside on days that have "heaven" rubber stamped on them. He said that we work to improve ourselves so that in the future we can enjoy days like this. My reply is that my current job saps at me to the point that self improvment is nearly impossible. If only the raise would come through. If only Godot would show up and let us know. I hate not having control of my own fate. I really, truly loathe this position.
Still, there's not much I can do. Might as well do my best. I have planted the flowers, I have rigged the lights. I can move on to another hobby and wait for the flowers to grow or die.

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Congrats |2:20 AM|
A late night congrats goes to Zusty. She was offered a job, now she has to decide to take it, or hope for the smaller, nicer company to hire her. Hooray for artistic, talented folks getting jobs.

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Hyper Mole |12:48 AM|
I saw a mole cross the street at the precise moment that it could make the trip, and survive. Seeing as how it was a highway off ramp, and there's only a brief period of tranquil blacktop in order to cross, the mole was highly lucky, or relatively observant. I was talking to someone on the phone and related the sighting, they wanted me to capture the mole, as a pet. I say that any animal that lucky or smart needs to stay in the wilderness, so that we eventually have a race of super-intelligent moles building structures all around us, like the Dozers in "Fraggle Rock".
I once saw a turtle trying to cross the busiest street in the neighborhood. A turtle. This wasn't a racing turtle, and he certainly seemed to be taking his time. I dodged around him in my car. I for one, did not want to damage my fathers Camry, nor did I want to squash an animal with the kind of determination and guts it would take to keep doing something so crazy. Good work, you dumb little bastard.
I've got A1 sauce, a steak, but no time. Well, at least it's frozen. Stupid tasks. I went to help a friend out, her car was in the shop and she needed a ride. I took this oppurtunity to add the "Jet Alone" tags to my car. They almost look like they belong. Almost. I'm absurdly proud of them. I'll get a picture as as soon as I am able.

My hair is spiky. My scars are fading. My teeth are whitening. Now all I have to do is strut and I might just find that special woman. Sure. Listening to Opera in my car, tuning my guitar at home. I'm still waiting to be hired for the mildly irritated Lincolns. I'm bringing some fresh meat to the poker game tommorow. I should tell the guy to just drop his money off with Joe and go drink. It'd be easier. But What if it turns out he has the incredible skills to defeat us? What if his new poker style is unstoppable? Well, then I guess I'm fucked!

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Tuesday, March 05, 2002
Reaction |6:05 PM|
I was at work today, and we had an former army explosives expert in the office. He wasn't around for long, but he was saying how he couldn't get on the plane with a pocket knife, but they let him on with a large, sturdy pen. He was saying that there were half a dozen ways that the pen was going to be a lot more lethal than the pocket knife. I wasn't really impressed, I was in the mood of not digging someone's ability to perform violent acts. But I thought, there must be a purpose for people like this. And then I remembered my previous post.

It's not about pride, it's not about revenge, but if a bordering country kept showing up and just shooting whoever they felt like, that's the sort of thing that I believe justifies a war. I'd go fight, and possibly be killed myself if I thought that the war I was fighting would stop wives from getting killed and random children being maimed. A war would be horrible, violent, and completely called for against a country allowing such acts. I've never been in the military, I can't say whether I'd order men and women to go fight and die, but I think a single civilian killed by another country is cause enough for war. "You do not harm our people". "You will not allow your citizens to attack ours." I know I'm simplifying things, but if you talked to that husband, after he tells his children what happened today, how important would political bullshit carnivals be to him?

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Cliche |12:58 PM|
More Violence. It just makes me want to cry. Some poor bastard was with his wife in his car, driving down the road and all of a sudden he's being shot, his wife is dead, and there is absolutely nothing accomplished. No one is going to remember that woman's name besides her family. No one will point to that death and say "That meant something". She died because she was there, it was random, it was useless. Absolutely no good can come of these actions. It's such a repulsive waste.

Do the people that blow themselves up, or spray bullets into a nightclub think that this one act is going to suddenly change everything? I doubt it. Just as I doubt the Israelis believe that rocket attacks along the Giza Strip are going to make the Palestenians suddenly pack up their bags and run off. They're just being evil, nasty and cruel to one another. It's sickening. Tit for tat response to violence is only going to work in packs of wild animals.
I don't know what I hope to accomplish. It's just been bothering me today. Just the thought of suddenly losing someone you love, and wondering what can you look to for meaning, or purpose? I'm sure nationalism and religous beliefs are about as important as scratches on the bumper of the car that you and your wife were riding in right before you got shot.

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|12:14 PM|
Diamagnetic is the word of the day. I learned about it here. That link is damned impressive, along with the Gauss Rifle.

I can't move the cam from work, of course, but I did turn it on long enough to get a picture of my new plants. Difficult to see but that's two pots that have Daisy seeds in them, that large pot is a large daisy plant that is already alive and I will do my best to keep alive, and when I figure out the best place for it I will be growing a sun flower. I found out that Sun flowers are just this side of "garden weed" so growing it won't be that hard. Speaking of which, I got this equipment from a guy who actually grew his own peppers and herbs, and no illegal drugs. Seriously, I was just as suprised.


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Monday, March 04, 2002
Steak? Impossible |10:27 PM|
I know it's crazy, and possibly illegal...but I have steak...
mmmmm FOOD GODDAMMIT. steak...steak...but no A1, no ketchup (eww) no seasoned salt. This is a rough situation. What to put on my damned steak?

If the toughest decision I need to make all night is what to put on my steak, I'll count my blessings.

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Lemons |2:18 PM|
I miss having a hammock. I miss having a parasol kite. I miss summer days meaning something besides a brighter sun to drive into after work.
I'm looking forward to the next minute, the next hour, this is different then friday, as I was dreading every moment that came my way. I'm excited by being healthy again, but I just don't know of a good way to express it. I want to make some kind of idyllic picnic event happen, but I doubt I'll pull it off. My daisy plan should be okay for the time being. Growing things is always good.

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The basics, and the not so basic |9:29 AM|
I have Orange Juice at work. This is a wonderful thing.

I also have a streaming webcam that is partially functional, however, even if I was home, there is not much point to a streaming webcam. I am male, therefore to most internet folks who would be viewing the cam, I am boring. I also lack a female at my apartment, so pornography is out of the question. The only thing I could think to do last night when I turned the damn thing on was to staple my head and play mumbldipeg with a dull knife. If you want to see and hear my empty apartment, the link is here.

I'm healthy, finally. My God. I feel so damned good. I've been gorging myself all weekend on ham, eggs, bacon, noodles, cereal, later today I'm going to get some fruit. I don't often feel hungry, but over this weekened, I just kept eating, without stopping until whatever I had prepared was gone. I didn't feel full, or starving, I just found myself able to eat continously. It was marvelous. So now my head is back in order, my limbs are filled with strength, I feel like I could conquer most of this county. I should get back to work.
The next event of any interest on that webcam is going to be right around 5:45 central time, when I walk in the door and curse like a sailor.

I'm sure I've posted this link often, but it could stand for some reposting. Get your war on: page 5


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Sunday, March 03, 2002
Pop Quiz |3:05 AM|
So, you're tweaked out on sickness, a pile of prescription strength decongestants, and Adderall. You started really feeling the withdrawl symptoms of the Effexor earlier today, and your sleep schedule is still wonky. What do you do?
What...do you do?
Go downtown and drink with people you're unfamiliar with, of course. Blast Autchre from the Pi soundtrack and "Clubbed to death" for maximum head distortion.
I'm still alive, I feel unusual, and I finally found that damn 24 hour pharmacy once again. Time to pop some Effexor and feel sane in the morning. Check out the SPOOOKY White LED cam

It has occurred to me, listening to the massive mixture of MP3s I have burned recently to CD for my car neato MP3 player that Minibosses and Autchre go quite well right after one another. But, don't listen to me. I'm still a bit off.

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