Tuesday, April 21, 2009

here is stand up from my sit down job




LOL-ocaust. I can has a diary. The SS are coming, ROFL-Copter. When
people talk about the internet. Did you see this website ... Well no,
but while we are interacting, face to face, please tell me about this
website or this Youtube video. That way we still dont have to talk
about ourselves, or our boring 3D lives. There is no abortion for
reality, though alcohol helps take the edge off hour by hour.

Why is it always feminists who are the first to drop their ideologies
with their pants? Objectification is in the eye of the degree holder,
I suppose. I think they hate whores so much because they lack
subtlety in the validation aspect. If I had a penis, I would call
those ladies, "boner graveyards". And if I was more into The Cure and
Tim Burton, that would be a turn on for me.

People who hate public speaking, it is a common fear for most people.
I dont think it is the speaking, I think it is the the fear of
rejection, in front of a large group of people. Like being on a group
date with your family. Not only do you have rejection, but a "helpful
commentary" the whole time, on how and why you are such a failure,
which could never in any way be construed as constructive criticism.
Which is why sex Olympics will never take off in this country. The
ironic nature of technology and isolation. Being unreachable, but
always available. Here is where I would interject a hearty
conspiritorial chuckle with an analogy to an ex, but then I would hate
myself.

The worst thing about talking to yourself is when you inevitably get
into an argument. The best way to end the argument is to say, "Well,
that's easy for you to say". That way both of you are confused and it
effectively ends the argument.

The best part of college is finding people who use the DSM-IV as a sex
manual. It seems that daddy issues were only the tip of the iceberg,
and you know what they say about icebergs. Wait, what do they say
about icebergs ?!! When did I start liking scat dressed as a dead
dictator? Oh, that's still an unrealized fantasy. Good, I thought I
was a little forward on that E-Harmony profile.

Activities and events for children and the elderly. Birthday parties,
bingo, suicide counseling. Waiting for life to be interesting, when
not inconveniencing all around you.

The thing I hate about my job, if we could narrow it down to one
specific infliction, would be calling people when they are at work. I
feel like saying, although thank god for my untreated alcoholism and
shred of impulse control, that i dont respond to people by shouting :
"I'm at work too!" Nobody wants to do this, you are bothering me by
the virtue I have to call you to bother you. This is not good. One
of us just needs to use the language barrier as a step ladder and hang
ourselves.

my spank bank is not in a recession

So as I have been saying/thinking lately, awareness and action are divided by a Grand Canyon of self doubt and selfishness. The leap doesnt seem worth the certain death sometimes. As an aside, I feel like people often tell me that they dont know what the hell I am talking about. Well, I will work on the linear but not the Linnaeus. That stays. It is on the fucking internet, google something if you feel like my nonsense might have a bibliography.

I dont know when or why, but I like being on the side. I dont want to be a hero. I dont mind being the supporting cast, even in my own life. I feel like this detachment may cause problems in the future but when ever I feel things are getting to intense, in whatever sense, it is easier to disengage. Well, maybe I dont like it, but it is something that I have adapted to myself.

I keep having the strangest dreams and erratic sleep schedule. It is only in the guest bedroom though.

"He will never get the girl".
"The girl is dead".

I have been in such a weird mood lately. I have read several books and I am writing different genres of things. This might prove to be a good thing.

Sunday, April 12, 2009

too much for the micro-blog

so i woke up thinking in terms of aphorisms and dubious song lyrics. "victim of another violence, in search of the mid day miracle". you own a part of me that the flesh forgot. i cant get over how i imagine you, like interaction is a template for ideological circumstance. the part of you that belongs to everyone is sometimes the only one.