Tuesday, August 21, 2007
1-800-Brendie |1:12 AM| I have a new nickname, one that I actually like!
Long time readers/people I bitch to/whomever know that I have been nicknamed "Weasel" by two independent social circles. I did not appreciate this.
However, being nicknamed, pretty much out of the blue "Brendy" is heartwarming.
Alternatively, "Brendie" as in 1-800-Brendie. For all of your castle sieging needs.
I'm trying to spend about 30 minutes or so writing an evening, though a lot of it will never see the light of day. Such is the way of the world, or so I'm told by the drunken writer out of Portland with whom I parley with daily.
I threw some more pictures into the "Time Line" gallery.
(0) comments
Thursday, July 26, 2007
The peril of autosave |6:58 AM| Blogger now automatically saves blog entries as you write them, in case something goes terribly wrong and you lose your 900 word screed on the latest videogame cheats or what have you.
This is a good, good thing, seeing as more than once I had an entry eaten by some error message. Yes, I did get into the habit of copying entries to the clipboard or writing them in word, but sometimes Word crashes, or the copy function didn't work and waah waah waah.
However, there's a certain (goal? Finality? Deadline?) in that "publish" or "save as draft" button. Now I've got piles of half written entries dealing with topics like "How I broke my car, my sister, and the printf php command", "Pitching short movie ideas for honest-to-god money" or "A breakdown of profanity and other words used by Wonderlust and I" (The curse word usage, by the way, ranks out like this for the past 3 years: Fuck 5101, Shit 3170, Damn 1026, Curses 15, Goddammit 509, Crap 221, Asshole/Ass 323, Boob, boob weasels, shitweasels 27.)
I will endeavor to finish those entries for the benefit of all.
I may have already posted this link. A dude goes http://www.wired.com/gadgets/miscellaneous/news/2007/07/xfinger
(2) comments
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Wallet Rifling |11:59 PM| This morning I forced myself to get up and run, then I lifted weights, and then I did a bunch of stomach crunches and push ups. I beat the fuck out of myself, especially that stupid fucking toe that doesn't want to get with the program.
Then it was off to the shooting range with Ryan, and it was then that the woman out of D.C. called.
As I may or may not have mentioned, I found a wallet the other day. ChrisH and I had been walking back to his office from Mongolian Grill (I had plenty of free time, who'd have thought) and because I took this walk, I found this woman's wallet.
Me: Some woman was fortunate that I walked with back to your office, dude. Found her wallet on the way back, money intact.
Me: She can thank your choice of careers, since clearly you were thinking ahead.
ChrisH: this was my purpose
ChrisH: I can quit now
ChrisH: thanks
Anyhow, I tried to contact some of the people on business cards she had in the wallet, and they could not get in touch with her. Since I now had to rifle through her wallet I found a few things, like the fist full of credit cards and some dough, oh, and the thousand-fucking-dollar cashier's check.
Luckily with information from the wallet, Wonderlust was able to track down the woman's gmail account.
While I don't expect a reward for this sort of action, dinner would be nice.
Following all of this was a party over at Jason's, and my cognitive functions were beginning to fall down. I had a good time mostly listening, as I didn't want to say anything intensely fucking stupid. Lit a few cigarettes, let the techs-in-fields-not-my-own Grok it up, and ate chips.
(0) comments
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Take that GOP fuck-o's |7:44 PM| I don't care if the Dems raise taxes, try and fail to fix medicaire, the minimum wage, or spend all of their time blowing each other. I don't even care that they're Democrats. They aren't lying, cheating, child molesting, war mongering, oil company fellating, deficit spending, re-districting, vote suppressing mother fuckers. At least, not as many of them are, compared to the GOP.
Too bad Lieberman won, that sorry sack of shit needs to open a back door to an election in which he elects to be brain damaged.
Commentary-
Wonderlust: everybody has to start the rumor now that Allen totally fucking outrageously cheated.
Myself: Robo calls, calling individual voters, shooting people, bribing heroin addicts with a fix, importing large numbers of nazis on land trains, travelling back in time to vote more often...just keep going more and more absurd. From shit we know they did to shit they would do if they could.
Wonderlust: saying shit like, "what I want you to do is canvass the black neighborhoods and tell them they cannot vote"
Wonderlust: So when they certify results on the 27th and they file the recount the judge can just be like, "Son, I know you cheated. So adjourned."
End of goddamn chat log of the sort I post too often.
Allen better fucking lose. That racist, pigfucking shit head wannabe good old boy had better earn some extra time to look up new and interesting racial slurs.
Cursing fits this election really well, I think.
(0) comments
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Remember Sammy Jenkins |2:18 PM| This past Friday was St. Patrick's day, or as it has become "Drink green beer and then get into a colossal wreck and ruin some people's lives day."
How Catholic.
I think there should be labels passed out, or perhaps just sharpies provided, so that the message "Green piss is okay, but just today" can be affixed to people's arms. That way when all that dye is exiting their system, they don't have a heart attack and die. Or, question their own safe sex habits. "Jesus, did I get really lucky last night with an alien? Maybe a radioactive chick?"
Speaking of ruining lives, have you seen those billboards that have a picture of Jack Daniel's that say "Turning nights into stories since 18-something"?
That's clever, until you ask "How many of those 'stories' have moments like 'Later, I found out she was pregnant, and I had genital warts.' or 'That's when I lost control of the car and slammed into the minivan, killing 3 people and losing the use of my legs.'?"
Alcohol may have its place, but I still hold the marketing groups in contempt, the same as the cigarette industry.
Back to Data Recovery.
My hard drive died several months ago. Or, should I say, 3 of my hd's died several months ago. Luckily enough, I have a friend (Wonderlust) who works with Ontrack, one of the better data recovery firms around. With any luck, I'm getting a couple thousand dollars worth of work to recover my digital past.
In the trade, he's probably going to read all my chat logs with any women he knows, and dig around in my email.
I knew this, but I figure it's worth it. The worst things he could find would be awkward attempts at flirting, expired credit card numbers, and passwords for places that don't exist anymore.
Some issues did come up when he got the hard drive. The technicians yelled at him that they would never repair another Baraccuda IV. (This is the model of my drive). I guess a lot of people thought "Hey, Seagate. I trust Seagate!" and got burned in the process. They had a big trashcan of them, and even printed out a sign to stick on the door proclaiming their hatred of said drives.
Wonderlust was nice enough to take the device to electrical engineers, who "Have no rules!" are "Savages!" who "Only answer to mountain dew and cigarettes! WHich I have given them!"
Wonderlust: "If you have a god, now is the time to pray to him."
Me: "Luckily I worship the electromagnetic spectrum. In the name of the pulse, the electron, and the holy field, amen."
Him: "It'll take 6 weeks."
Me: "6 weeks? Are you kidding? How long for any kind of info?"
Him: "6 weeks."
Me: "Shit. Seriously?"
Him: "6 weeks."
Me: "Alright, then. Oh hey did you catch that file I sent you? The archive of..."
Him: "6 weeks."
(0) comments
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Wonderlust stole a brownie. |3:24 PM| So I went back and paid for it.
(0) comments
Monday, March 06, 2006
Another 'nother bullshit night in suck city |4:21 AM| I can never read the book with the title "Another Bullshit Night in Suck City", as it could never live up to the name. Just like "The Dead Hate the Living" blew its load with the title.
When you last saw him pictured, Wonderlust was undergoing a mud dwelling savage related moment. The picture of him urinating in public, head lolling back as if it was missing a couple of important bones, right by a major road did not come out very well, sadly.
This shit is being mentally written in a coffee bar that Lust and I have stopped into so he can write some emails. I'm sitting here with dick all to do, which is fair, as I trapped him at a film related situation when he could have been purchasing whores or jerking off into cups or who knows what else. Right now I'm chewing off a hangnail and wishing there was more to watch on the street. Inside, at least, there are women who look like trouble. Dames, broads, skirts, they pass by. It has been agreed that this chick is a skirt.
Due to peer pressure, I wrote a marriage proposal myself to an old friend. Thing is, this woman hated marriage so goddamn much that I'm pretty sure I won't hear from her for at least 6 months now. The girl in question hated commitment like a fruit fly, she dumped me at least 5, perhaps 7 times. So, when you read this, darling girlfriend, don't worry.
I want comment that during this whole weekend, my gal, my main squeeze has been the nicest XX chromosome owner a guy could ask for. With all the talk of marriage, 'lust was pressuring me to lock her down, because I'm really not going to find a better girl. While he has some good, very good points on the matter, I'm sticking with the plan she and I agreed upon.
He did it again, just a few hours ago. Wonderlust, he proposed to a woman, a good friend of his. My relathionship to this woman is a corpse buried in the past, but from what I know of her I think they'd make a nice couple. Especially when they hit the sunset era, the rocking chair on a porch, viewing the daisies with lemonade years. He told me his pitch, his line, the string of words that might have expressed ideas. It's a good speech, a fine collection of convincing ideas.
The answer was a foregone conclusion, a tortured negative by his account, but Lust still seeks to bring down his personal house of Usher. He'd knock the retaining clip from a steamshovel bucket of rocks if it said "Marry SG? Pull rope."
I admire his resolve.
He did deliver a message or two for me. Whether or not he remembered to apologize on my behalf for the sins against America's Dairyland is really moot.
After email time was over, we hit the road, and listed off old flames. A few. 'lust compared one of mine to a monkey with cymbals, that could just make attention gathering noise. I defended myself by pointing out I wasn't hung up on her, all these years later, that I had just been dazzled a bit at the time. He has earlier commented on that friendship being a good and stabilizing force for that past tense girl. It's not like we were being huge dicks or anything. He did say my head was full of silt and gravel when I biffed the gate code a couple times, though, and it's been ages since I have been so insulted. My word, the nerve.
That brings us to now. I did want to write it down, before I forgot, that I told 'lust about a time in which I nearly chewed open the veins in my arms as to unleash them, to gather my life's blood into my belly so that I could project forth both bile and my needed humors into the eyes of a man, but stayed from this course of action because of a dame. The same dame he was trying to marry.
(4) comments
Saturday, March 04, 2006
The wonderlust issue, the trashcan incident |8:14 PM| Wonderlust is in town. The mook finally managed to come to town and NOT cancel the trip at the last minute.
There have been a lot of idiotic jokes, a fair amount of driving, and sleep deprivation and we still have another couple of days.
Right now, I don't have custody, as he's seeing SomeGirl. SomeGirl in relation to me can best be described as "I'm not talking to him." which is alright, I sinned in that church, pissed on the wrong floor, my actions were indefensible, and worse, were boring. Also, I owed Wonderlust some discretion, so I ditched him as requested and became just another vapor trail.
His plan was bold, I suppose. The right words for describing a marriage proposal are difficult to find. If challenged, I'd say finding the right chunk of old sea glass on a beach would be easier. Or maybe it's just that I'm writing this shit at 4am.
Before ditching Wonderlust to his fate, we had helped shop for trashcan punch related supplies with Cas. In a tiny Celica, with 3 people, a trashcan has very few places to fit. Not to mention the 12 oranges, crapload of strawberries, 20 liters of lemon lime soda, 12 cans of fruit juice, 2 bottles of vodka, and 2 bottles of everclear. I was clearing space in the back seat when Cas decided on jumping into the can itself, and insisted on being transported in this fashion. I braced the can as best I could, told her "The cops can't see you, or they'll pull us over", then covered her with a towel.
I proceeded to drive at a level of careful classified as absurdly.
A note on Cas, she has been near saint-like. On short notice she provided lodging to 'lust and really put up with our bullshit well. (like taking a picture of her blowdrying her hair at Mr. Lust's behest)
Shit went down, I wasn't present, I'm not one to comment on it, but Wonderlust did not become engaged that day. Luckily we had a trashcan full of booze and a backyard full of goddamn savages.
That's a lot of pictures of the dude from Portland, geez. As I am an egomaniac, I'd normally have pictures of myself, but none were flattering from this set.
We had a good time. Wonderlust got an interesting facial treatment and seemed to be having an alright time.
(0) comments
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Conversations of Note |8:37 PM| Nathan first of all, tom cruise is OLD. I mean the fucker is old.
Nathan he is only like 42 but he looks 55
Me It's the evil eggs the scientologists filled him with
Nathan he needs to start playing stodgy war hero roles like harrison ford does.
Me I'm just waiting for them to burst on camera and all these little L-rons to pour out of his body.
Me Wriggling and crawling all over him like evil salamanders.
Nathan that is the best image you have ever given me
In the car with my girlfriend:
Her:That chick you promised to marry if you weren't already married, how old were you going to be?
Me: The first one? Leah? 40. To Bits, 39.
Her: Okay, can I have 35?
Me: Sure.
A short pause.
Me: I feel like eBay. Don't look at me like that.
her: Are you going to tell the other girls about this?
Me: No. I'm not going to send out email notifications to these women "Sorry! You've been outbid!"
Phone conversation with my girlfriend:
Her: Are you cleaning?
Me: I'm trying, it's nauseating in here with this broken disposal.
Her: You could clean your room.
Me:(Clutching a handful of broken down fire crackers) I'm going to use explosives on the sink.
Her: Don't.
Me:Ok.
Her:That was easy.
(0) comments
Saturday, July 09, 2005
This post is to give my girlfriend something new to look at. |3:50 AM| bhinmanrr: Were I a better poet I could properly describe my joy at there still being a rootbeer left in my fridge
bhinmanrr: Worlds were created. Life grew, evolved, and civilizations rose. They constructed great towers to the majesty and joy that was the IBC rootbeer in my fridge.
name4014: ibc is beyond words
name4014: it is its own gof
name4014: god
bhinmanrr: No. It is the eternity that births god.
bhinmanrr: IBC buries its arms into the loam that is probability, and sculpts truth.
bhinmanrr: Lo....so it is Rootbeer, so let it be drunk.
name4014: holy shit that's beautiful cecil
bhinmanrr: Thank you Nathan.
Also I quit my job, I hurt my back, my movie company is going to make me rich in a month or so, my patent ideas "Show great promise" according to those in the know.
I still may be evicted soon.
(0) comments
Friday, December 17, 2004
Where the hell are you, Wonderlust? |2:41 PM| A buddy of mine went and got himself missing person'd. He apparently vanished some time yesterday morning, and his local friends and girlfriend are concerned. I say local friends, because I knew the guy from online. Point and laugh if you will, but I do give a damn about him.
I knew he was considering a trip, and he was going to make it quiet, but I assumed he'd at least leave a better and more detailed note than the "I'm sorry, I need some time, not going to hurt myself, sorry."
If you're looking for a place to crash, you doofus, there's room on my couch. Of course, it'd take you at least 34 hours to reach my couch.
I'll even turn the 7.5 foot tall painting of myself around to face away from you.
I know I say this once every 3 months or so, but goddammit Blogger was pissing me off.
Beyond the houston trip, the random person's appendecitis, the play, and that despite their now gargantuan size, my aquarium's sucker fish have apparently stopped doing their job, the search for free, exploitable breasts, the rock climbing all needs to be updated because I feel like it.
(0) comments
1-800-Brendie |1:12 AM| I have a new nickname, one that I actually like!
Long time readers/people I bitch to/whomever know that I have been nicknamed "Weasel" by two independent social circles. I did not appreciate this.
However, being nicknamed, pretty much out of the blue "Brendy" is heartwarming.
Alternatively, "Brendie" as in 1-800-Brendie. For all of your castle sieging needs.
I'm trying to spend about 30 minutes or so writing an evening, though a lot of it will never see the light of day. Such is the way of the world, or so I'm told by the drunken writer out of Portland with whom I parley with daily.
I threw some more pictures into the "Time Line" gallery.
Labels: Pictures, Wonderlust
(0) comments
Thursday, July 26, 2007
The peril of autosave |6:58 AM| Blogger now automatically saves blog entries as you write them, in case something goes terribly wrong and you lose your 900 word screed on the latest videogame cheats or what have you.
This is a good, good thing, seeing as more than once I had an entry eaten by some error message. Yes, I did get into the habit of copying entries to the clipboard or writing them in word, but sometimes Word crashes, or the copy function didn't work and waah waah waah.
However, there's a certain (goal? Finality? Deadline?) in that "publish" or "save as draft" button. Now I've got piles of half written entries dealing with topics like "How I broke my car, my sister, and the printf php command", "Pitching short movie ideas for honest-to-god money" or "A breakdown of profanity and other words used by Wonderlust and I" (The curse word usage, by the way, ranks out like this for the past 3 years: Fuck 5101, Shit 3170, Damn 1026, Curses 15, Goddammit 509, Crap 221, Asshole/Ass 323, Boob, boob weasels, shitweasels 27.)
I will endeavor to finish those entries for the benefit of all.
I may have already posted this link. A dude goes http://www.wired.com/gadgets/miscellaneous/news/2007/07/xfinger
Labels: Wonderlust
(2) comments
Saturday, May 26, 2007
Wallet Rifling |11:59 PM| This morning I forced myself to get up and run, then I lifted weights, and then I did a bunch of stomach crunches and push ups. I beat the fuck out of myself, especially that stupid fucking toe that doesn't want to get with the program.
Then it was off to the shooting range with Ryan, and it was then that the woman out of D.C. called.
As I may or may not have mentioned, I found a wallet the other day. ChrisH and I had been walking back to his office from Mongolian Grill (I had plenty of free time, who'd have thought) and because I took this walk, I found this woman's wallet.
Me: Some woman was fortunate that I walked with back to your office, dude. Found her wallet on the way back, money intact.
Me: She can thank your choice of careers, since clearly you were thinking ahead.
ChrisH: this was my purpose
ChrisH: I can quit now
ChrisH: thanks
Anyhow, I tried to contact some of the people on business cards she had in the wallet, and they could not get in touch with her. Since I now had to rifle through her wallet I found a few things, like the fist full of credit cards and some dough, oh, and the thousand-fucking-dollar cashier's check.
Luckily with information from the wallet, Wonderlust was able to track down the woman's gmail account.
While I don't expect a reward for this sort of action, dinner would be nice.
Following all of this was a party over at Jason's, and my cognitive functions were beginning to fall down. I had a good time mostly listening, as I didn't want to say anything intensely fucking stupid. Lit a few cigarettes, let the techs-in-fields-not-my-own Grok it up, and ate chips.
Labels: ChrisH, Wonderlust
(0) comments
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
Take that GOP fuck-o's |7:44 PM| I don't care if the Dems raise taxes, try and fail to fix medicaire, the minimum wage, or spend all of their time blowing each other. I don't even care that they're Democrats. They aren't lying, cheating, child molesting, war mongering, oil company fellating, deficit spending, re-districting, vote suppressing mother fuckers. At least, not as many of them are, compared to the GOP.
Too bad Lieberman won, that sorry sack of shit needs to open a back door to an election in which he elects to be brain damaged.
Commentary-
Wonderlust: everybody has to start the rumor now that Allen totally fucking outrageously cheated.
Myself: Robo calls, calling individual voters, shooting people, bribing heroin addicts with a fix, importing large numbers of nazis on land trains, travelling back in time to vote more often...just keep going more and more absurd. From shit we know they did to shit they would do if they could.
Wonderlust: saying shit like, "what I want you to do is canvass the black neighborhoods and tell them they cannot vote"
Wonderlust: So when they certify results on the 27th and they file the recount the judge can just be like, "Son, I know you cheated. So adjourned."
End of goddamn chat log of the sort I post too often.
Allen better fucking lose. That racist, pigfucking shit head wannabe good old boy had better earn some extra time to look up new and interesting racial slurs.
Cursing fits this election really well, I think.
Labels: Politics, Wonderlust
(0) comments
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Remember Sammy Jenkins |2:18 PM| This past Friday was St. Patrick's day, or as it has become "Drink green beer and then get into a colossal wreck and ruin some people's lives day."
How Catholic.
I think there should be labels passed out, or perhaps just sharpies provided, so that the message "Green piss is okay, but just today" can be affixed to people's arms. That way when all that dye is exiting their system, they don't have a heart attack and die. Or, question their own safe sex habits. "Jesus, did I get really lucky last night with an alien? Maybe a radioactive chick?"
Speaking of ruining lives, have you seen those billboards that have a picture of Jack Daniel's that say "Turning nights into stories since 18-something"?
That's clever, until you ask "How many of those 'stories' have moments like 'Later, I found out she was pregnant, and I had genital warts.' or 'That's when I lost control of the car and slammed into the minivan, killing 3 people and losing the use of my legs.'?"
Alcohol may have its place, but I still hold the marketing groups in contempt, the same as the cigarette industry.
Back to Data Recovery.
My hard drive died several months ago. Or, should I say, 3 of my hd's died several months ago. Luckily enough, I have a friend (Wonderlust) who works with Ontrack, one of the better data recovery firms around. With any luck, I'm getting a couple thousand dollars worth of work to recover my digital past.
In the trade, he's probably going to read all my chat logs with any women he knows, and dig around in my email.
I knew this, but I figure it's worth it. The worst things he could find would be awkward attempts at flirting, expired credit card numbers, and passwords for places that don't exist anymore.
Some issues did come up when he got the hard drive. The technicians yelled at him that they would never repair another Baraccuda IV. (This is the model of my drive). I guess a lot of people thought "Hey, Seagate. I trust Seagate!" and got burned in the process. They had a big trashcan of them, and even printed out a sign to stick on the door proclaiming their hatred of said drives.
Wonderlust was nice enough to take the device to electrical engineers, who "Have no rules!" are "Savages!" who "Only answer to mountain dew and cigarettes! WHich I have given them!"
Wonderlust: "If you have a god, now is the time to pray to him."
Me: "Luckily I worship the electromagnetic spectrum. In the name of the pulse, the electron, and the holy field, amen."
Him: "It'll take 6 weeks."
Me: "6 weeks? Are you kidding? How long for any kind of info?"
Him: "6 weeks."
Me: "Shit. Seriously?"
Him: "6 weeks."
Me: "Alright, then. Oh hey did you catch that file I sent you? The archive of..."
Him: "6 weeks."
Labels: Wonderlust
(0) comments
Wednesday, March 08, 2006
Wonderlust stole a brownie. |3:24 PM| So I went back and paid for it.
Labels: Wonderlust
(0) comments
Monday, March 06, 2006
Another 'nother bullshit night in suck city |4:21 AM| I can never read the book with the title "Another Bullshit Night in Suck City", as it could never live up to the name. Just like "The Dead Hate the Living" blew its load with the title.
When you last saw him pictured, Wonderlust was undergoing a mud dwelling savage related moment. The picture of him urinating in public, head lolling back as if it was missing a couple of important bones, right by a major road did not come out very well, sadly.
This shit is being mentally written in a coffee bar that Lust and I have stopped into so he can write some emails. I'm sitting here with dick all to do, which is fair, as I trapped him at a film related situation when he could have been purchasing whores or jerking off into cups or who knows what else. Right now I'm chewing off a hangnail and wishing there was more to watch on the street. Inside, at least, there are women who look like trouble. Dames, broads, skirts, they pass by. It has been agreed that this chick is a skirt.
Due to peer pressure, I wrote a marriage proposal myself to an old friend. Thing is, this woman hated marriage so goddamn much that I'm pretty sure I won't hear from her for at least 6 months now. The girl in question hated commitment like a fruit fly, she dumped me at least 5, perhaps 7 times. So, when you read this, darling girlfriend, don't worry.
I want comment that during this whole weekend, my gal, my main squeeze has been the nicest XX chromosome owner a guy could ask for. With all the talk of marriage, 'lust was pressuring me to lock her down, because I'm really not going to find a better girl. While he has some good, very good points on the matter, I'm sticking with the plan she and I agreed upon.
He did it again, just a few hours ago. Wonderlust, he proposed to a woman, a good friend of his. My relathionship to this woman is a corpse buried in the past, but from what I know of her I think they'd make a nice couple. Especially when they hit the sunset era, the rocking chair on a porch, viewing the daisies with lemonade years. He told me his pitch, his line, the string of words that might have expressed ideas. It's a good speech, a fine collection of convincing ideas.
The answer was a foregone conclusion, a tortured negative by his account, but Lust still seeks to bring down his personal house of Usher. He'd knock the retaining clip from a steamshovel bucket of rocks if it said "Marry SG? Pull rope."
I admire his resolve.
He did deliver a message or two for me. Whether or not he remembered to apologize on my behalf for the sins against America's Dairyland is really moot.
After email time was over, we hit the road, and listed off old flames. A few. 'lust compared one of mine to a monkey with cymbals, that could just make attention gathering noise. I defended myself by pointing out I wasn't hung up on her, all these years later, that I had just been dazzled a bit at the time. He has earlier commented on that friendship being a good and stabilizing force for that past tense girl. It's not like we were being huge dicks or anything. He did say my head was full of silt and gravel when I biffed the gate code a couple times, though, and it's been ages since I have been so insulted. My word, the nerve.
That brings us to now. I did want to write it down, before I forgot, that I told 'lust about a time in which I nearly chewed open the veins in my arms as to unleash them, to gather my life's blood into my belly so that I could project forth both bile and my needed humors into the eyes of a man, but stayed from this course of action because of a dame. The same dame he was trying to marry.
Labels: Pictures, Wonderlust
(4) comments
Saturday, March 04, 2006
The wonderlust issue, the trashcan incident |8:14 PM| Wonderlust is in town. The mook finally managed to come to town and NOT cancel the trip at the last minute.
There have been a lot of idiotic jokes, a fair amount of driving, and sleep deprivation and we still have another couple of days.
Right now, I don't have custody, as he's seeing SomeGirl. SomeGirl in relation to me can best be described as "I'm not talking to him." which is alright, I sinned in that church, pissed on the wrong floor, my actions were indefensible, and worse, were boring. Also, I owed Wonderlust some discretion, so I ditched him as requested and became just another vapor trail.
His plan was bold, I suppose. The right words for describing a marriage proposal are difficult to find. If challenged, I'd say finding the right chunk of old sea glass on a beach would be easier. Or maybe it's just that I'm writing this shit at 4am.
Before ditching Wonderlust to his fate, we had helped shop for trashcan punch related supplies with Cas. In a tiny Celica, with 3 people, a trashcan has very few places to fit. Not to mention the 12 oranges, crapload of strawberries, 20 liters of lemon lime soda, 12 cans of fruit juice, 2 bottles of vodka, and 2 bottles of everclear. I was clearing space in the back seat when Cas decided on jumping into the can itself, and insisted on being transported in this fashion. I braced the can as best I could, told her "The cops can't see you, or they'll pull us over", then covered her with a towel.
I proceeded to drive at a level of careful classified as absurdly.
A note on Cas, she has been near saint-like. On short notice she provided lodging to 'lust and really put up with our bullshit well. (like taking a picture of her blowdrying her hair at Mr. Lust's behest)
Shit went down, I wasn't present, I'm not one to comment on it, but Wonderlust did not become engaged that day. Luckily we had a trashcan full of booze and a backyard full of goddamn savages.
That's a lot of pictures of the dude from Portland, geez. As I am an egomaniac, I'd normally have pictures of myself, but none were flattering from this set.
We had a good time. Wonderlust got an interesting facial treatment and seemed to be having an alright time.
Labels: Cass, Pictures, Wonderlust
(0) comments
Thursday, July 28, 2005
Conversations of Note |8:37 PM| Nathan first of all, tom cruise is OLD. I mean the fucker is old.
Nathan he is only like 42 but he looks 55
Me It's the evil eggs the scientologists filled him with
Nathan he needs to start playing stodgy war hero roles like harrison ford does.
Me I'm just waiting for them to burst on camera and all these little L-rons to pour out of his body.
Me Wriggling and crawling all over him like evil salamanders.
Nathan that is the best image you have ever given me
In the car with my girlfriend:
Her:That chick you promised to marry if you weren't already married, how old were you going to be?
Me: The first one? Leah? 40. To Bits, 39.
Her: Okay, can I have 35?
Me: Sure.
A short pause.
Me: I feel like eBay. Don't look at me like that.
her: Are you going to tell the other girls about this?
Me: No. I'm not going to send out email notifications to these women "Sorry! You've been outbid!"
Phone conversation with my girlfriend:
Her: Are you cleaning?
Me: I'm trying, it's nauseating in here with this broken disposal.
Her: You could clean your room.
Me:(Clutching a handful of broken down fire crackers) I'm going to use explosives on the sink.
Her: Don't.
Me:Ok.
Her:That was easy.
Labels: Mariko, Wonderlust
(0) comments
Saturday, July 09, 2005
This post is to give my girlfriend something new to look at. |3:50 AM| bhinmanrr: Were I a better poet I could properly describe my joy at there still being a rootbeer left in my fridge
bhinmanrr: Worlds were created. Life grew, evolved, and civilizations rose. They constructed great towers to the majesty and joy that was the IBC rootbeer in my fridge.
name4014: ibc is beyond words
name4014: it is its own gof
name4014: god
bhinmanrr: No. It is the eternity that births god.
bhinmanrr: IBC buries its arms into the loam that is probability, and sculpts truth.
bhinmanrr: Lo....so it is Rootbeer, so let it be drunk.
name4014: holy shit that's beautiful cecil
bhinmanrr: Thank you Nathan.
Also I quit my job, I hurt my back, my movie company is going to make me rich in a month or so, my patent ideas "Show great promise" according to those in the know.
I still may be evicted soon.
Labels: Wonderlust
(0) comments
Friday, December 17, 2004
Where the hell are you, Wonderlust? |2:41 PM| A buddy of mine went and got himself missing person'd. He apparently vanished some time yesterday morning, and his local friends and girlfriend are concerned. I say local friends, because I knew the guy from online. Point and laugh if you will, but I do give a damn about him.
I knew he was considering a trip, and he was going to make it quiet, but I assumed he'd at least leave a better and more detailed note than the "I'm sorry, I need some time, not going to hurt myself, sorry."
If you're looking for a place to crash, you doofus, there's room on my couch. Of course, it'd take you at least 34 hours to reach my couch.
I'll even turn the 7.5 foot tall painting of myself around to face away from you.
I know I say this once every 3 months or so, but goddammit Blogger was pissing me off.
Beyond the houston trip, the random person's appendecitis, the play, and that despite their now gargantuan size, my aquarium's sucker fish have apparently stopped doing their job, the search for free, exploitable breasts, the rock climbing all needs to be updated because I feel like it.
Labels: Wonderlust
(0) comments
View My Stats
-->
