The Obscure

I am suffering from prejudice. EXTREME prejudice. That is to say, my skull is prejudiced against my physical well-being. In an extremem fashion. Therefore, it is doing all within it's power to take away my good time, my splitting into several piece and then biting my fused joints with it's angry cranial jaws.
Popsy says I have a migraine, so I am wearing sunglasses. Not as good as a weenie dog though.
There's one thing a weenie dog can do better than any other dog. Wearin' sunglasses!

Lena cut all her hair off. I already told all of you the story, though, so that's the end of that.

I need something to do. Everybody is busy.
Well, by "Everbody is busy." I mean, "Tim isn't here."
It's all the same though, nowadays.

Anyway, I don't have much else to say. I started talking to me' Pop a minute ago and he told me all about how to preserve clothes. Apparently he knows a lot about doing Laundry, too, because he worked at a laundry place, many years ago. So now I know how to preserve my clothes, and the different ways of washing both lights and darks.
No communism, or King Philip's War info today, guys, I'm sorry.
I love my family.

Anyway, I'm going now, have a good'un.

Guys, I'm sorry, I've posted these lyrics a thousand times. But, hey, they always get stuck in my head, and they always cheer me up when I aint feelin none be stazzin', dig?

Otis Redding- Sitting on the dock of the bay

Sittin' in the mornin' sun
I'll be sittin' when the evenin' come
Watching the ships roll in
And then I watch 'em roll away again, yeah

I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
Ooo, I'm just sittin' on the dock of the bay
Wastin' time

I left my home in Georgia
Headed for the 'Frisco bay
'Cause I've had nothing to live for
And look like nothin's gonna come my way

So I'm just gonna sit on the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
Ooo, I'm sittin' on the dock of the bay
Wastin' time

Look like nothing's gonna change
Everything still remains the same
I can't do what ten people tell me to do
So I guess I'll remain the same, yes

Sittin' here resting my bones
And this loneliness won't leave me alone
It's two thousand miles I roamed
Just to make this dock my home

Now, I'm just gonna sit at the dock of the bay
Watching the tide roll away
Oooo-wee, sittin' on the dock of the bay
Wastin' time

(whistle)

I'm bored and feel guilty about not updating for a while. I don't know why I would feel guilty, but for some reason I do.
I took a Seroquel last night--well, I took half of one. I wanted to be able to go to sleep quickly but I guess my body just doesn't respond well to that stuff, so I've spent all day being really wacky and drowsy. I slept for two hours on my living room couch and now I am really wired.
Feh. What know I from mind-altering substances?

I almost got my scanner working earlier, I was so excited. It was in the middle of the cursory "preview" scan, and then suddenly this red light came on and it failed. Said, "Scanner failed to respond" or some other bullshit.
I tried it again several times, to no avail, I guess I was just not meant to scan.
Maybe I'll use Taylor's accursed scanner to try and get some comics done. He just got his new scanner/printer/fax/juicer/hercules machine today.

I'm sick of the status quo, someone needs to drop a nuke somewhere and shake things up.
I don't care what anyone says, I think that would be just dandy. I wouldn't even mind if it was on me. If they walked me out into the desert with a blindfold on, and dropped a nuke directly on my head, it would be fine, because then at least the world would be exciting for the people I'd leave behind.
And if I was lucky (and the laws of physics were suspended briefly) the nuclear energy would be absorbed by my body and I'd become ULTRA-MAN! Defender of Hispanic Freedom and User of Mass Quantities of Orange-Clean.
Ultra-Man is actually an inner-city butler.

You better head back to Tennessee, Jed.

So, I have decided that acne, for me, is a thing of the past! That's right, folks! My skin is all but flawless now, cause of the "neutrogena nighttime pore clarifying gel".
Call me Quee' if you wanna, but you didn't have to spend as much of your life covered in the horrible red abrasions as I did, so you wouldn't know. Man I love that Gel.

The lil' squeetle has passed away, my friends. Today, we mourn the death of Lauren Doherty's guinea pig. She lead a long and fruitful life, may she Rest in Peace.
Now there is only one squeetle left. I am the last of my breed.
I will always look fondly on the days when I could sit next to her cage and say freely, "I'm a squeetle, too!"
But now, it will forevermore be, "I'm a squeetle." For there is no other.

I must away, for dawn has broken, and without cover I shall be post-mortem, post-haste!

So this is saturday morning. I have the time and the idea to make a comic this morning, but I know I'm not going to. Maybe I should just give up writing comics altogether and try to do Graphic Design or some other kind of job where my creativity would be wielded by someone else, as opposed to being clumsily thrown about or left to gather dust by Me, which has essentially been the tune of things lately.

My dad is washing the kitchen floor right now, so I can't get coffee. I think today is the day all the Lena-Clones were going to go to the Natick mall to meet the cast of Degrassi. Good for them.
I spent all my money yesterday on Timesplitters 2. But then I left it at Taylor's house.

I had a dream last night where we were having steak for dinner, and I wanted A1 sauce. So I went to Roche Brothers to pick up some AI sauce, but for some reason it was really hard to find. Eventually I found a package that looked like an enormous sausage (much like that one I got for christmas) but it had the words "A1 Steak Sauce" on the packaging, so I was going to buy it.
Then I woke up, so I don't know how that plot was resolved. Alas, it seems I never will.

So much has happened to me over the past few years, but at the same time... nothing has really changed. It's this feel of permanence, that my life will always feel like it always has, it makes you want to kill someone. Makes you want to take all the anger and frustration and memories of humiliation out on some guy's teeth with a bat. Someday something'll crack, and I'll go hide behind the dumpster outside Cumby's with my Louisville Slugger until the guy comes to put the trash away. I'll leap out at him with a swing, and send pieces of his face flying in every direction like a dozen home-run balls.
Feh, what know I from ritual homocide?

I need a hobby.

I guess that's it for this morning. I feel like shit, I'm not gonna lie to you. I don't know what exactly drove me to this inexplicable state; regardless, I am here.
Maybe the world will look better when reality becomes caffienated.

Hey hey everybody. I aint updated in a while, and this one will probably be a little lackluster itself. What to say, what to say.
I've been pretty sick lately. For those of you who don't know (which is definitely a minority, given my penchant for complaining) a broken tooth of mine developed a cavity, which then absessed, and then got infected. So I've been on these wacky anti-biotics for a few days, and they have made me pretty groggy, BUT I think that I must have had the infection for a while, because I am feeling worlds better than usual today. It may have accounted for such things as my recent fatigue and headache situations.

I'm feelin' kind of low today, for some reason I cannot comprehend. I'd assume it has something to do with the lack of the word "Conundrum" in my daily percieved vocabulary; but I don't know quite where I could insert the word "Conundrum" into conversation without sounding like some kind of hornswaggler, or some other reasonable facsimile.
I can't believe I remember that joke, "Maestro, give me a rumpshaker! Or some other reasonable facsimile."
Oh Phil Hartman, is there anything you can't do? ...except, live?... or translocate?

I want to get some corn flakes. I think I'm going to buy some later. I haven't had corn flakes in a long time, I used to eat 'em a lot, I'd put like a pound of sugar on the things, and destroy any nutritional goodness they may have once contained.

Alright, I guess this post is done with. Y'all have a fun day witcha'selves!

Hey everybody. I missed school today, on account of my headache, and toothache, and general bodily unwell-ness.
I went through some of my old blog archives earlier, out of boredom. It's surprising how much of myself I had forgotten about. There are things that I didn't remember at all, that I had no idea I had forgotten.
Pretty crazy stuff.

Right now, I have decided that I am going to post about how I feel; not on a personal level, to be honest I don't feel much of anything on a personal level--I'm just going to post how I feel about Things.

There has been a System set up to drive Man into submission. It is a System that stretches to every aspect of our lives, and although some people can see some of it from time to time, they very rarely try to wrap their minds around the whole thing.

We are now driven by the Government to become their version of a citizen. I, for one, have spent twelve years of my life in their schools learning their facts and being forced to swallow their reality without any ability to make the decision for myself until I was 16. Not only that, but the consequences for making the decision to leave school have become so fantastically large that it is no longer really an option at all, if you have your facilities about you.
The Government drives us, yes, and then people take it into their heads that they want to be Revolutionaries and go against the accepted Government ideal. That is the other side of their pincer.
Then you take on the Ideals of the Media, they pander to your supposed revolutionary quirks and tell you that Yes, the Government is trying too hard to run your life, so you should try to vote for people who will go into the Government FOR you and start putting all kinds of laws up that will somehow defend your freedom. Free yourself by shackling yourself down with our laws, not "Their's".
But they are all for the same purpose. To mass-produce the ideal human. We are the oil that makes this enormous Culture Machine run.
Without two arguing sides to everything, without two polar opposites that you are programmed to adhere to, you would be an individual.
They can't have that. They have to grow you, to feel like you are a person with human rights and human dignity when in truth you are just another Ear of People on this America-Stalk.

And THAT my friends, is why I hate school, and politics, and television (though I watch it incessantly); because it Herds us like cattle. No matter what side you come from you are just being pushed like another Bovine-Human to live out your years within the confines of this aesthetic prison, and leave behind a few more babies for the Herd when you die.
It's the System, it's been running for centuries, and I doubt that any of the Runners can even acknowledge it for themselves. They just serve out their purpose as their predecessors did, and as we all do.
But I wish to quit, somehow.

Vive la Revolución.

Son be bitchin', man! I got nuffin to say on this hea.

I got ideas brewing in my head right now, but articulating them seems to be beyond me. Does that ever happen to anyone but me? The only way I can ever write something worth writing is if I outline it first so I have a frame to build on, but I am always far too lazy to do so, so instead I just try to get my brain out in one go, and it never works and always leaves me frustrated.

I started art class today. Apparently the school has gotten far too many complaints or something, so they are bringing back the art classes, but only with one art teacher. It's bad, though, because the only class I could get was this pretty low level drawing and painting course, which is almost like an "intro to art" thing, like I already took. I wanted to take maybe an illustration course, but alas, twas not to be.
It's good, though, because the people in the class don't know a lot about artwork, so my weird cartoon things get admired and it makes me feel very good about myself.
The self-esteem boost is marred a little bit by the fact that it is only inexperience that brings it about, but... I digress.
But where to, my love? To the park?

Ariel, listen to me. The human world, it's a mess.
Life under the sea is better than anything they got up there.

The seaweed is always greener
In somebody else's lake
You dream about going up there
But that is a big mistake
Just look at the world around you
Right here on the ocean floor
Such wonderful things surround you
What more is you lookin' for?

Under the sea, under the sea
Darling it's better down where it's wetter
Take it from me
Up on the shore they work all day
Out in the sun they slave away
While we're devoting full time to floating
Under the sea, ha ha...

Down here all the fish is happy
As after the waves they roll
The fish on the land ain't happy
They sad 'cause they in the bowl!
But fish in the bowl is lucky
They in for a worser fate
One day when the boss get hungry
Guess who goin' be on the plate?
Wo-no!

Under the sea!
Under the sea!
Nobody beat us, fry us and eat us
In frickazee
We what the land folks loves to cook
Under the sea we off the hook
We've got no troubles, life is the bubbles
Under the sea (under the sea)
Under the sea (under the sea)
Since life is sweet here, we got the beat here
Naturally (naturally-ee-ee-ee)
Even the sturgeon and the ray
They get the urge and start to play
We've got the spirit, you've got to hear it
Under the sea

The lute play the flute
The carp play the harp
The plaice play the bass and they soundin' sharp
The bass play the brass
The chub play the tub
The fluke is the duke of soul (yeah)
The ray, he can play the lings on the strings
The trout acting out
The blackfish he sings
The smelt and the sprat
They know where it's at
And oh, that blowfish blow!

Yeah, under the sea
Under the sea
When the sardine begin the beguine
It's music to me (music is to me)
What do they got, a lot of sand?
We've got a hot crustacean band
Each little clam here know how to jam here
Under the sea
Each little slug here cutting a rug here
Under the sea
Each little snail here know how to wail here
That's why it's hotter under the water
Yeah, we in luck here down under the muck here
Under the sea

Someday I want to live under the sea. But until that day comes, I am going to drown myself to death in my tub, daily... Somehow. Y'all have a nice one!

All hail the Dino King!!

So I worked today, at Veronica's Treats (don't make the joke, we've all made the joke) for a few hours. They have these awesome golden twisty-tie things, and I took a bunch of them and made this little model of a dinosaur person with a sword. I dubbed him "the Dino King". This marks three Veronica's Treats twisty-tie Dino-Champions I have made over the year. There was "the Dino King", "the Imperial Minister of Funk" and this other thing who's name I cannot remember. The third one was just pure dinosaur, though, not a dinosaur guy.
After further thought, he may've looked more like a King, if I gave him a crown of some kind.
Welp, live and learn, and then get Luvs!
Seriously, though, YOU try and make a crown out of twisty-ties. It is HARD.

I've been nursing this monstrous headache since last night. I think any kind of social function throws off my natural state of being, so even a "party" where I ate a little pizza and then sat on some pavement referencing Simpson's quotes and chuckling to myself while people made-out for three hours caused my internal solar system to align and cause a digestive equinox that for some reason gave me a headache.
I don't get it either.

The Dino King says your outfit doesn't match. Change it.
ALL HAIL THE DINO KING!!

"Understandable," said the Reversal Man to me from the table, "You have had a rough time of it."
"You don't know the half of it, my friend." I reply.
The Reversal Man suffers from the unfortunate condition of thinking he has all the answers. That rarely proves probable when the skylights have all gone out for the day, and the children have nowhere to run to.
Lansing was upside down this morning, I shot him twice, and left him for dead. The loss was tragic, for his family, so in mercy I killed them also, with a shovel.
My legs stopped bending when I was at a young age. I don't know why they decided to quit, perhaps walking and standing comfortably wasn't entertaining enough.
I want to leave my home and find a new one, perhaps a home all my own, maybe live ina van or something and travel the country. Truly THAT would be interesting.
I am typing this entire post with my eyes closed, I for one, think it is pretty impressive. But it is still sophomoric stuff, the shapes to my enemies are far to buily and cartoonish, and the lines under neath my eyes do not coincide with the potolsl there for I can never have existed, not that I have done anything with my existence that is worth note, I just choose merely to exist in the most lavish way possibly when utilizing only tehe lowerst amount of currency I wold find that would still do any good.
"No way!' complete monsters and cannibals, but how did iI ever expect wori there again, but I dnPp'

-Big Ol' Sleepy Johnny

Hey hey everybody. Johnny has nothing to do today, as his plans fo' woiken fell through when I got into a fight with my Lil' Big Poppa Sis ova dea'.
So I'm just chillin m'azz till I can figure out what to do with m'azz. Y'azz better have some ideas of somfin, or I'ma kickin' y'azz.
I'm blind with stupidity.

So I'm drawin' a comic. I know, big deal, right? I've drawn two pictures for it today though. I mean, that's better than... nothing, right?
Feh. Ah well, I'll try to finish this one, at least.
I need to get to an art store, I was playing with this cool pen-nip for a while and I liked it a lot, and then it broke. I gotta get a new one, and they don't have any of the kind I use around here.

Sho' nuff, man. You're tellin' me.
I'm so tired. So very tired. It's friday! I guess I can have some coffee, then, and then I'll work on my comic some more, and then I'll do something else!
The funny thing is, there is little to no chance of me actually doing anything, I'll probably just sit at the computer till someone comes online, and then talk to them like I am drowning in an ocean of oily boredom and they are some kind of conversation-life-raft. Then they will get weirded out by my stupid conversation habits and leave.
And I will sit here still, awaiting my next victim.

To Paris! *quaffs delicious brew in one gulp*
...And to victory!

God I'm so tired.
You know what my problem is? The only humour I can create comes directly from living, only on the spur of the moment, and only funny in the right context. Why is it that I, of all people, aspire to create comix? I can't write, I have no ability in that area. The only reason I can draw at all is because I draw so damn often.
What sucks even worse is that if I do something wrong, if I screw up some comic or don't finish it at some point during the day, the rest of the day is hell! I can't get it out of my mind. I fully freak out.
People as lazy and inept as I shouldn't be perfectionists, it just adds stress. And we are too lazy to handle stress! We aren't able! Our fragile forms can't take it! It's like trying to make a moth carry a jeep, it ain't gonna happen!

Ahh, emotional concussion released.
Thank you, Blog, the beating you have taken today has quite possibly saved countless future lives from being destroyed, when my brain explodes and sends shards of skull hurtling at thousands of feet per second in every direction. Over 15 square miles of hypothalamus-spattered doom.

(No comment necessary on THIS post. Go down a bit for today's Real post.)

Hey everyone. I am updating because I don't have a whole lot else to do. What to say, what to say, people eat chicken, cows eat hay, hay is for horses, and dogs eat them--but us gooses just listen to R.E.M.
That was a Johnny McMcMcMcMcantelbury original, thank god I'm a country boy.
I saw Johnny Scarecrow make his rounds. What are YOU going to do about it?

So the other day I was drinking some "409" and I started to see strange colours. I stared at the colours for centuries, and eventually went into a trance. With a start I suddenly realized that my brain was being devoured by silkworms. I threw up my hands in defense, but to no avail, the Men were already dancing. That was my cue.
With a lightning quick thrust, I ran my blade through the heart of Mine enemy.
And the Imperial Minister of Finance for the Republic of Eurodeluasia lay dead at my feet.
You'll never pin it on me, coppers.

So how is everyone doing tonight? I am doing pretty good. I'm in a wacky way, as you may have gathered. But can you blame me? It's Levitation Siesta Day!!
In old country, this is biggest holiday. When I was young girl, very young, my father brought me into the town, for this day. And I danced in a circle of levitating flamenco guitarist, and my father smiled at me and said, "Juliana, you are most special girl in world."
This is fondest memory of mine.

Aye Aye Aye! Levitation Seista Day continues on! All of us, carry on the tradition, it is our heritage.

When Johnny drinks from his glass.
So I was in school today, almost on time. It was nuts. I forgot how friggin' long the school day is if you are actually THERE the whole time. It's enormous! I thought that it was fifth period after second.
I don't know man, school kinda gets me down in the dumps. I don't know why it's so harsh for me, just doesn't click, I guess.
It's a trip, there are kids I know who spend the majority of their time smoking and screwing and generally destroying their minds and bodies at a faster rate than disease could; yet they manage to pass classes with alright grades, whereas Johnny Clean-Living over here pollutes his life with ONLY the imagined addiction of irresponsible laziness, and I am the failure.
Wacked out man. Good lord, my gourd... has fallen, and smashed.

Talk about y'azz man. I'm outta hea'.

You think you've got it bad? Try having a little sister who is everything you hated about yourself when you were her age, during her period.
It's like living in the same house with a 6 foot tall rabid female badger... who hasn't eaten in three years, and hates Men.

So my break from El Blog didn't quite make the "few days" mark, but I think a day and a half is pretty admirable, don't you?
I have an excuse though, my day was Eventful! (kind of)

I slept late this morning, woke up about 5 times to my mom saying, "Johnny, time to rise and shine! Don't you want some hot coffee?" (taking advantage of my addictions, as is the Motherly Creed). At and/or around 7:30, I got up and showered, which took a while because I fell asleep in there (I know, it's strange, but it happens a lot) and prepared for school. Now, before departing school, I developed a horrible condition in my digestive system, which can only be described as intestinal-Hell. I took a Brooks' Dulcolax-Wannabe, drank approxiamately my own weight in water, and figured, "Eh, I'll just go to school and maybe things will be better in a while."
There is no escape from intestinal-Hell.
After walking about three-fourths of the way to school, my stomach was hit with a horrible feeling that caused me to wonder whether I had unwittingly devoured a steel-mill at some point during the previous night.
I was forced to come home, I had no option.

So I came home, told my mom that I couldn't go to school, on account of my stomach pain, went into the bathroom for three decades and emerged a new man!
I stayed home for the rest of the day though, just in case I still had a girder or two in there.

After all this business, I decided to play some Zelda. I sat down with the Gamecube controller in my hands, at about 10 o'clock. I decided at about 6:30 that I would take a break for a while.
That pretty much brings you up to speed. At some point Tim and Taylor were here. Things were said, certain parties hurled certain mini-vortex footballs at the heads of other certain parties. It was an all around good time.

So tomorrow I guess I'll be going to school, Tuesdays are my Mondays, when all is said and done.
Ask yourself this though, did it really happen? Or is this all just an elaborate dream, concocted by my skin, in order to get revenge on me for drying it out so badly?
Seriously, my face feels like it's burning.

The Answer, my friends, is Tefflon.

For my entire life I've felt like I am flying down the highway with the sunshine in my pocket, and you wonder why I can't get a grip on Your reality.

HA! Johnny is back in town, ladies and gentlemen, and he is feelin' frisky. Mothers, lock up your daughters, or you'll find them dead on your doorstep come sunrise.

Theoretically speaking, spending your afternoon ingesting massive quantities of black india ink shouting about the "oppressive nature of the system" at the top of your lungs while sitting on a pile of golden golf shoes is an improper pass-time for a Lady.
Theoretically.
Thinking practically, of course, it's unavoidable. This idea is comparitive to how, say, a young woman is not supposed to burp. Without such release that woman's stomach would soon rupture, destroying her inner organs in a flood of stomach acid and partially digested confectionaries.
Therefore, the idea of a lady (solely because she is a Lady) avoiding the ink-devouring, gilded golf shoe toting, and aggressively philosophical expenditure of time (that is also currently all the rage in Europe) is ludicrous, and must be discounted.

Uh... I'll edit this post more later. I'm feelin' kinda wacky today.

*Edit*
I have no motivation to edit this blog further. I am going to take a break from it for a few days. We all gotta chill out for a while every now and again, dig?

Blogger ain't woiken on m'ass. It's not cool, man.

I'm sitting here, drastically late for school, having come to an epiphany of sorts, when speaking to my Lil' Sis. I aint gonna write about it yet, being as the epiphany dictates that I do my best to get to class, even though it's nine thirty in the morning.
More on this later.

*Edit!*
So, in an effort to get my little sister up and about for school I said that I would walk to school with her and get her coffee and stuff, right?
I guess it was a bad move on my part. Cause I've been waiting for like half an hour for her to finish up her "getting ready" process.
I suppose I'm worse, though. I always have to shower, and I take long showers.

I have been writing this essay, solely for my own purposes, not at the presumptious prodding of the proverbial Man (alliteration!). I think when I finish it I shall post it up here for all to see, it contains a lot of stuff that I think is utterly pointless. And in the end, isn't that what my blog is all about?
So look forward to that. Or dread it's occurence, which is probably the safer idea. You won't get disappointed. As much.
I should be done in a few days.
Anyway, I'm off to school now. G'day everyone.

This album Ben lent to Tim, to burn for Tim and I, is amazing. I don't remember the name, I am going to insert it right here (Return to Forever- Romantic Warrior), when this song finishes. It's one of those albums that is like tim travel for me. I can't remember any distinct part of it, it's like there is this smooth groove in my brain, and most music sticks to the inside walls of this groove and my brain absorbs it, but sometimes, I come across a rarity, some music just slides through that groove before my brain can grip it; slides right past the groove and wraps itself around my subconcious, and massages my thought process till I start thinking about things that never would have entered my mind otherwise.
This is one of those. Those brain-massagers. It goes clear past superficial part of my brain, directly into my intelligence, and gives me waking dreams and frees a creativity that otherwise would've remained out of my reach.
Unfortunately, I am not eloquent. So I cannot really explain what I mean. I'm also really tired, which is the explanation for this post. Good album, though.

Hey everyone. I'm just chillin' here, with my cappucino steamin' and my "london calling" playin' on the stereo.
I haven't showered yet this morning, I think I will do that when I finish this coffee here. Man, I love to make coffee so much.

I should call the Cooles about doing yardwork. But I feel really sore today, I don't know why. I think I just want to stay in. I should call them anyway, commit myself to maybe doing it tomorrow afternoon.
Eh. We'll see how it goes.

I'm feeling stupid today. I'm too "labile".
"Labile" is a word my mom taught me, I think it means an unreliable emotional state, or an emotional cycle or something. Crazy, eh?

Anyway, I'm feeling like that. Right now I'm feelin' kinda down, whereas yesterday afternoon everything was peachy keen. I can barely remember yesterday, though. It's horrible when your memory has gotten so ravaged that you can't even remember being, before the immediate experience.
I can never remember any of the life-decisions I make, so they do me no good.

It's like Slaughter-House Five. I've become unstuck in time.

I don't have a copy of that book anymore. I had borrowed it from Dave for a really long time, but then he took it back. Along with his copy of "The Catcher in the Rye". They were actually his sister Kate's. Kate is a cool gal, I read some over her poetry once, it was real good. She's an english major, y'see. Or she was, she might've graduated, I don't remember.

I'm the oldest. Well, not really. But the group that I was born with is now the group that's the Pantheon, so to speak. I remember when I was younger, there was a group of kids who were about four years older than us, and they were so much cooler than we were, and they always had fun and hung out. Now we've moved up into their place.
I don't have fun and hang out. I'm a shitty replacement.

How come some people have it easy, and other people who should theoretically have it just as easy, have such a bad time?
Or is it all just an image?

Eh. To hell with it. Talk to y'all later.

Johnny Colón sings the blues.

It's been a long time coming, brother
But you've got to get out the door
I say, it's been a long time coming, brother
But you've got to get out the door
You've torn at us, and beat us for too long now
And we ain't gonna take it no more

When I think about how I loved you
I cannot help but to laugh
When I think about how I loved you
Oh, I cannot help but laugh
Cause you spat on everything, brother
Everything that you could've had

It's time for you to leave now
Man, cause you ain't welcome here
It's time for you to leave now
Man, I said you ain't welcome here
Cause you've turned it all to ashes, baby
Everything that we once held dear.

Jerry Reed- East Bound And Down (or the Smokey and the Bandit theme song, to some more enlightened individuals)

East Bound and Down, Loaded up and Truckin'
, a-we gonna do what they say can't be done
We got a long way to go, and a short time to get there
I'm east bound just watch to ol' Bandit run.

Keep the foot hard on the pedal, Son never mind them brakes
Let it all hang out cause we gotta run to make.
Those boys are thirsty in atlanta, and theres beer in texarkana
and we'll bring it back no matter what it takes.

Ol' Smokeys got them ears on, He's Hot on your Trail
and He ain't gonna rest til' your in jail
so you gotta Dodge and you gotta duck'em, you got ta keep that diesel truckin'
just put that hammer down and give it hell.

Ok, so after further investigation, it doesn't say anything about the bandit being a "driving man".
Good flick, though.

Hey hey everyone. I don't have anything to write about right now, so I figure that I will just ramble on until I grow too lazy to lift my fingers (which is just so different from usual, I know, sorry to startle you.)
I'm eating Hut Dugs (as they are properly pronounced) but they are sub-par. I need Jew-Dogs or better, and these are stupid ballpark, what's more, the rolls are a little dry, so it doesn't taste good in that area either.
I'm too hungry though, I have no choice.

I'm feeling a little strange today. Not bad, necessarily, just kinda strange. Dr. Strangelove, Hubert Humphrey, Ronald Reagan, Chicken McNuggets, Jazz.
That is an example of my "associative thought process", right there. Is that even anything, "associative thought process"? I don't know if it is. Regardless, that is a line of association in my brain. Don't question me.

I think I am secretly Woody Allen, in drag.

So I go into my kitchen just now, and my mom is out there cooking up some food. I say, "Hey Mum, what're you cookin'?" and she says, "I'm just cookin' up a pot of hamburger and zucchini. You want some tea?"
To which I replied, "Yes, please."
True story.

My tea is ready, I think in a matter of moments I shall be up and about once more, on the road towards tea retrieval, but until that time comes, remember the alamo, my friends. His banner over us, is love.

Thurgood Williams Jameson came over the other day. He challenged me to a duel, with a glove-slap to the face. I chose pistols at dawn. Not for any other reason than it just felt like the natural thing to do, did I make my choice; nevertheless, I did choose it, and it was so.
The next morning I met Jameson outside my house, I greeted him by shooting him twice in the face, while he was getting out of his car. Cause seriously, what's he going to do about it? He's dead now.

I just got my tea. I have begun to drink it, it is quite delicious. We have this new mug now, it's this little white one, it's really cool. I like it a lot. I have a strange affection for "cool" mugs, and this one goes somewhere between 5 and 30 on my list of favorites.

See? I really didn't have anything to write about. And now I am tired, as predicted. Good Day.

Because the Katies wrote essays about one another on their Blogs/Livejournals, I've decided to step up to the plate and write an essay about MY personal hero: the Hotplate.
The Hotplate was born in a small farm community near Worcester in the late 1980s, he is a very nice guy, and has always been there for me in the past.
Our favorite thing to do together is warm soup. I'll just open up a can of soup, and then he'll balance it on his head for several minutes, warming it up with the "energy", which he "emits".
After a few minutes of that, I take the can, and empty it into a bowl. Often times I will spill it on myself, me and Hotplate always laugh at that.
Hotplate always warms up a good soup, and we always know how to make each other chuckle, even when one of us isn't feeling good, like when there is a power-out.
So, in conclusion: I love you, Hotplate. Will you marry me?

Circle for Yes, No, No way Jose.*

*"circle" Joke stolen from Dave. My apologies to anyone offended by my love of hotplates and/or stealing of good-natured Essay idea.

No matter what happens to me during the day, be it good or bad, happy or sad, cheerful or depressing, it always turns out the same way. I go into the bathroom late at night to take a leak and brusha me teefs, and Ba-BAM! I spend half an hour making faces at myself in the mirror. It has gotten to the point where I can manipulate my face in ways I had hitherto never thought possible. And it inspired me.
Here's my idea!
I want to take a camera (perhaps my digital one, if I can ever get it working) and take a series of photos of myself and/or other people making strange faces in sequence, take hundreds (or thousands!) of these pictures and upload them on el computero, right? I'm talking like really really weird faces, like the kind you make that you don't want ANY-one to see, because they are so grotesque. It would be very time consuming, I know. But it would be awesome! Cause then I'd take the pictures, and polish out some of the creases in the facial structure, right? So the weirdness looked really natural, and then leave some of the creases in different ones, and animate them all, make them flow together, so it's person changing into person changing into person, with crazy grimaces and wacky facial changes, with their mouths opening and closing as if they are talking, right? And I would manage the level of mouth close-i-tude according to what the person would be saying, right? AND THEN! I would animate a background for it, just a psychadelic amorphous mass of squiggles and angles and shapes, turning and writhing behind the person as they change, Maybe being a city or a town one second, then an ocean, then a different planet, then a desert, y'know? And then I'd patch in some audio of people talking, one person reciting maybe a line from the Preamble, and then someone else reciting a line from Dante's Inferno, and someone ELSE reciting a line from "Stopping in the woods on a snowy evening", and so forth in that fashion, and I would align this predetermind audio with it's allotted place in the animation, so they changing person would be saying all these things in different voices at different times, and I would doctor the animation so that it would go really fast sometimes so the changes flip by, and then really slow other times so that it's like the person is melting like liquid glass into another person.
Just think of like three minutes of just... that. That would be so much fun for me, to do. Maybe I will do it. Anyone feel like helping out? I could use the BTV video editing equipment, maybe.
I'll probably never actually DO that, but you have to admit, it would be REALLY cool.

In retrospect, that whole idea probably didn't make any sense to anybody, I read it over and it's pretty incoherent. But thinking about it right now, at 3:15 in the morning when I am tired and wacky, it's AWESOME.
G'night everybody.

BABY I LOVE YOU
Aretha Franklin

If you want my lovin
If you really do
don't be afraid baby
Just ask me
You know I'm gonna give it to you
Oh and I do declare
I want to see you with it
Stretch out your arms little boy,
You're gonna get it
Cause I love you
ain't no doubt about it
Baby I love you,
I love you, I love you
I love you, baby I love you

If you think you want to kiss me
Go right ahead I don't mind
All you got to do is
Snap your fingers and I'll come running
I ain't lying, I ain't lying
OH, What you want, little boy
You know you got it
I'd deny my own self
Before I see you without it
I love you
Ain't no doubt about it
Baby I love you, I love you, I love you
I love you, baby I love you

Someday you might want to run away
And leave me sittin' here to cry
But if it's all the same to you baby
I'm gonna stop you from sayin' goodbye
Baby I love you
Baby I need ya
Said I want ya
Got to have you baby
Don't let your neighbors
Tell you I don't want you
Don't let your low-down friends
tell you I don't need you

Chain of fools- Aretha Franklin

Chain chain chains
Chain chain chains
Chain chain chai-iai-iai-iai yeah
Chain of fools
For five long years
I thought you were my man
But I found out
I'm just a link in your chain
You got me where you want me
"got me where you want me"
I ain't nothin but your fool
You treated me mean
Oh babe you treated me cruel
Chain chain chain
echo
chain of fools
Now every chain
Has got a weak link
I might be weak child
Oh but I'll give you strength
OOh OOh
YOu told me to leave you alone
My father said, come on home
My doctor said, take it easy
But your lovin' is much too strong
I'm added to your
Chain chain chain
Chain chain chain
Chain chain chai-iai-iai-iai yeah
chain of fools
One of these mornings
That chain is goin'a break
But up until the-hen
I'm goin'a take all I can take

Chain chain chain
Chain chain chain
Chain chain chai-iai-iai-iai yeah
chain of fools
Chain chain chain
Chain chain chain
Chain chain chai-iai-iai-iai yeah
chain of fools
Chain chain chain.

Y'know, I was going to but more, but now I don't wanna.

Hey hey everybody! Y'all doing well? I am doing fine, myself.
I feel mind-bogglingly tired, actually.
I was in a wretched mood earlier, I don't know why exactly, I just kind of radiated irritability; I think Lena caught it.
But then I spent about an hour sleeping on my hallway floor, and then I cleaned up my hallway because I had promised my Mom that I would do it about three days ago. So I did it, and there was a few old boards there, that we had hoarded away a while ago. I decided that I want to make a table out of them, so I pulled them apart and got all the nails out of them and stacked them neatly in my room, obstructing the easy opening of my door and my rear TV access, but that's ok. This weekend I aim to take my father's circular saw, sawhorses, drill, and my trusty hammer (which has remained dormant for far too long), and fashion for myself a table of such magnitude that it shall hold my TV on it for centuries, and be renowned in all walks of life as the Table that knew no rival.
After messing around with the boards and cleaning my hallway as much as I had the energy for, I cheered up immensely and began to draw. I drew, and drew, and drew some more. And then I stopped.

I accidentally missed the appointment I had with Sgt. Ehrlich (that's Earl-lick) today, I gotta call him, maybe tomorrow or something. It's not like I want to join the army, I'd just like to learn stuff about it, I mean... I got nothing else to do, right?
I doubt I would ever join the army though, after giving it some thought. Just out of laziness, really. I'm not all for the whole "boot camp" thing. Not my forte, y'see.
No thank you, I'm all set on this end of things.
Not for me, please.
I'm full.
Nice of you to offer, though.

Anywho, how is everyone doing today? I almost felt like I was going to vomit just now, it was gross.

Man, it's like someone just hits a switch in my brain and I don't want to write anymore on the blog for the night.
Goodnight everybody!

Hey hey all. I am writing my daily blog post as we speak. You may have been able to gather that, from the existence of the blog post.
School started, yesterday. To be honest, it's looking to be a pretty good year. I'm taking some courses I like, with some teachers that I like, and for some reason I care much less than I did before about my fellow students' opinions of myself and my actions, which makes school muuch easier.
Want to read a wacky formless poem I wrote a while ago when I couldn't sleep? Then read on, my friends!

"Remarkable Hexagon," Said the Don de la Marke
"I rather enjoy the bottom left angle."

With a roar of fury, Pythagorus hurled his flaming trumpet, and clove the Don in twain.
"End game." said Pythagorus, and he cushioned me to his bosom
and kissed me firmly on the lips.

The Moral: The sum of the squares of the two legs of a Right Triangle equals the square of the remaining side.

Woint that just the wackiest? I don't know where it came from.

So this army recruitment officer guy called me today, and asked me if I wanted to discuss the pros and cons of the army. So I have a meeting with the Recruiter tomorrow after school.
Eh.
It oughtta be alright.

Anyway, I'm gonna go now. Take care, everyone!