i love all hollows eve (or halloween as some people call it)...
if for nothing else because the sexually repressed girls get to dress up in a more sexually provocative nature than they normally would. i read an article that stated that overly sexual costumes may mean one of two things... either your sexually repressed or your very comfortable with your sexiness... that and dressing as a prostitute signifies a inner struggle in your fragile little psyche as to how you should lead your life (pure and virginal, or partaking in the joy of sexual liberation) this also applies to guys (the guy dressed as the hulk for the third halloween in a row was probably a skinny little guy in highschool who got picked on and is now compensating for the fact)...
so what does my costime say about me¿
i have no idea because i went as a convicted catholic priest. black shirt, black pants black shoes, the little white thing in the coller and handcuffed. a convicted catholic priest.
whatever. i just know i like looking at the cute girls who dress provocatively (like the britney spears outfits, the aguilera outfits and the sexy stripper cops... score.)
long live all hallows eve for we can be children once again.
long live halloween.
31.10.03
29.10.03
shiver shiver.
its getting a wee bit cold out there kiddies.
those of you down south where it never drops have no idea what im talking about. its called cold weather. it makes your teeth click and your bones shake. the trees they die (no foliage this year, just green trees to dead trees in a matter of 3 days). the fuzzy animals dissapear and everyone bundles up.
no more free looks at girly girls legs as they frolick in the sun in their extra short shorts... nope, now is the time of the sweatshirts.
the cold bitter biting weather may have something to do with my sudden demotivation... maybe. possibly. you never know.
other than that i realized i was having a slow week. i saw one sign that said "slow hump. 20" and i cracked up midstreet. if you see the funny good for you.. if you dont, go ask your sister. someday you might see the picture and then youll get it... whatever man, i found it hilarious at the time... which is why i think i was having a slow week...
i have been having some very interesting and revealing, maybe even risque conversations with some people lately. its been fun. especially if you came to my college and met the horribly repressed people that live in this godforsaken shit of a town... do you realize that cursing is really rare here, people do say fudge, dangit and the like here... and they might mean it... but its not the same as hearing a fuck, shit, etc... i miss cursing. its cleansing to bitch and spew forth a random bile of flowing profanities that flows like so much water. fuckall. people here can be downright boring most of the time... its the natives man.
the natives, the farmers, the good ole boys... those people just come off as naive fucking farmers. sure they might drink and be rowdy, but i just see it as them shedding off years of angst while living under their mamas skirt... it doesnt seem natural to them...like they try to hard to compensate. and then they all turn out to be almost identical to each other, same musical taste style of clothing generic look haircut walk talk everything just screams "i have no clear idea of who the fuck i am!! and i just want to fit in and not be ostracized (if they even know a word that eloquent) by the rest of the country bumpkins... mama." just wish there was some fucking variety here... it all seems to eventually blur together like a washed out painting... variety is the spice of life and this speck of country tastes like a fucking limabean. i bitch too much about this stupid little place.
maybe cause i desire to be in someplace with variety (true variety) like miami, san fran, la, ny, chicago even (oasis of the barren wasteland of the midwest). a man can dream...
those of you down south where it never drops have no idea what im talking about. its called cold weather. it makes your teeth click and your bones shake. the trees they die (no foliage this year, just green trees to dead trees in a matter of 3 days). the fuzzy animals dissapear and everyone bundles up.
no more free looks at girly girls legs as they frolick in the sun in their extra short shorts... nope, now is the time of the sweatshirts.
the cold bitter biting weather may have something to do with my sudden demotivation... maybe. possibly. you never know.
other than that i realized i was having a slow week. i saw one sign that said "slow hump. 20" and i cracked up midstreet. if you see the funny good for you.. if you dont, go ask your sister. someday you might see the picture and then youll get it... whatever man, i found it hilarious at the time... which is why i think i was having a slow week...
i have been having some very interesting and revealing, maybe even risque conversations with some people lately. its been fun. especially if you came to my college and met the horribly repressed people that live in this godforsaken shit of a town... do you realize that cursing is really rare here, people do say fudge, dangit and the like here... and they might mean it... but its not the same as hearing a fuck, shit, etc... i miss cursing. its cleansing to bitch and spew forth a random bile of flowing profanities that flows like so much water. fuckall. people here can be downright boring most of the time... its the natives man.
the natives, the farmers, the good ole boys... those people just come off as naive fucking farmers. sure they might drink and be rowdy, but i just see it as them shedding off years of angst while living under their mamas skirt... it doesnt seem natural to them...like they try to hard to compensate. and then they all turn out to be almost identical to each other, same musical taste style of clothing generic look haircut walk talk everything just screams "i have no clear idea of who the fuck i am!! and i just want to fit in and not be ostracized (if they even know a word that eloquent) by the rest of the country bumpkins... mama." just wish there was some fucking variety here... it all seems to eventually blur together like a washed out painting... variety is the spice of life and this speck of country tastes like a fucking limabean. i bitch too much about this stupid little place.
maybe cause i desire to be in someplace with variety (true variety) like miami, san fran, la, ny, chicago even (oasis of the barren wasteland of the midwest). a man can dream...
2.10.03
chipotle-
for future reference, my titles have nothing to do with whats written beneath them. its usually just a word or phrase i happen to like the split second i decide to start typing. just thought id let you know because i am the king and supreme ruler of this, the mighty rentedspace. behold my kingdom. its a lovely shade of peasoup green. but it is mine.
im sick and the sickness has turned my brain into a messy grey tinged gooey sloshing pile of mush.
im sick and the sickness has turned my brain into a messy grey tinged gooey sloshing pile of mush.
wha¿
i hate being sick.
it makes me miserable kinda. it makes me drowsy. it makes me a bitch.
and it makes other people assholes.
it also kills all the drives i inherently have. all drives.
everything from my desire for food (which, lest we forget is necessary for the survival of the body) and more importantly... my sexdrive... horrible to realize im 21 and my sexdrive is currently enjoying a relaxing vacation in limbo sharing piña coladas with my mojo and groove (not sure when, how or even if, i lost it. but its definately on a holiday right now). so im led to this conclusion.
since im not using my sexdrive right now, im not getting sex right now -obviously, because im typing right now, but i mean now as in the royal now.... um, recently i mean, and how recent is recent is none of your bloody concern- (not that anyone really wants to have sex with somebody who has small rivers of snot shooting out of his nose every 5 seconds at a fantastic speed) so....
somebody must be having my sex!
obviously. it still is mine. just cause im not using it right now doesnt mean it isnt still mine, that i wont use it in the near future. if i find out who is taking my sex i plan to sue.
quite possibly he could be pimping my sex out... giving it out like cheap candy after halloween to any old nasty skank who walks by (can you imagine when skanks roll by on those new scooter things¿ "just hop on baby, mine iz pimpazized for my pleazure."). or hes the philanthropist type, selling it on ebay or in an alley somewhere along with the dignity you lost that one time you did that thing you wish you hadnt but did and your friends saw you and they were never your friends again... yup, could be. and if a girl is having my sex¿ that doesnt mean im suddenly gay if someone used my sex to have sex with a guy,... right¿ you know what lets just say shes a lesbian so as not to complicate things (because im all about simplicity, cant you tell¿). i have no control over where my sex is being used right now, or for what purpose. sure i could be optimistic and pretend its being used in the next great american porn magnum opus... but its probably being used by a drunken hobo on a $3 toothless whore (actually wouldnt toothless whores be better because of the lack of teeth¿ just a thought.) aged 45 (and unlike whiskey, they dont get better with age, just sloppier). maybe its being used by a very loving couple of teenage lesbians in school girl uniforms... and maybe its being used (and abused) in a very angry copulation by two people in a broom closet somewhere. everywhere people are having sex that is rightfully mine!
damnit. i hope that these people realize that once i get my s.drive (it just sounds cooler... S.DRIVE) back im gonna go and collect. so you better get a receipt next time you have sex (just ask, youd be surprised how accomodating some people can be when asked nicely). because it might be the sex that im due that your using (dont do anything freaky deaky if your using my sex... pervert) in your sloppy drunken sex (how somebody thought your incredible loss of hand eye coordination, projectile vomiting, inability to stand and eue de liquor was appealing is a mystery for the ages) and dammit i want reparations! thats right i said reparations!
im due.
it makes me miserable kinda. it makes me drowsy. it makes me a bitch.
and it makes other people assholes.
it also kills all the drives i inherently have. all drives.
everything from my desire for food (which, lest we forget is necessary for the survival of the body) and more importantly... my sexdrive... horrible to realize im 21 and my sexdrive is currently enjoying a relaxing vacation in limbo sharing piña coladas with my mojo and groove (not sure when, how or even if, i lost it. but its definately on a holiday right now). so im led to this conclusion.
since im not using my sexdrive right now, im not getting sex right now -obviously, because im typing right now, but i mean now as in the royal now.... um, recently i mean, and how recent is recent is none of your bloody concern- (not that anyone really wants to have sex with somebody who has small rivers of snot shooting out of his nose every 5 seconds at a fantastic speed) so....
somebody must be having my sex!
obviously. it still is mine. just cause im not using it right now doesnt mean it isnt still mine, that i wont use it in the near future. if i find out who is taking my sex i plan to sue.
quite possibly he could be pimping my sex out... giving it out like cheap candy after halloween to any old nasty skank who walks by (can you imagine when skanks roll by on those new scooter things¿ "just hop on baby, mine iz pimpazized for my pleazure."). or hes the philanthropist type, selling it on ebay or in an alley somewhere along with the dignity you lost that one time you did that thing you wish you hadnt but did and your friends saw you and they were never your friends again... yup, could be. and if a girl is having my sex¿ that doesnt mean im suddenly gay if someone used my sex to have sex with a guy,... right¿ you know what lets just say shes a lesbian so as not to complicate things (because im all about simplicity, cant you tell¿). i have no control over where my sex is being used right now, or for what purpose. sure i could be optimistic and pretend its being used in the next great american porn magnum opus... but its probably being used by a drunken hobo on a $3 toothless whore (actually wouldnt toothless whores be better because of the lack of teeth¿ just a thought.) aged 45 (and unlike whiskey, they dont get better with age, just sloppier). maybe its being used by a very loving couple of teenage lesbians in school girl uniforms... and maybe its being used (and abused) in a very angry copulation by two people in a broom closet somewhere. everywhere people are having sex that is rightfully mine!
damnit. i hope that these people realize that once i get my s.drive (it just sounds cooler... S.DRIVE) back im gonna go and collect. so you better get a receipt next time you have sex (just ask, youd be surprised how accomodating some people can be when asked nicely). because it might be the sex that im due that your using (dont do anything freaky deaky if your using my sex... pervert) in your sloppy drunken sex (how somebody thought your incredible loss of hand eye coordination, projectile vomiting, inability to stand and eue de liquor was appealing is a mystery for the ages) and dammit i want reparations! thats right i said reparations!
im due.
