| Cause I like my sugar with coffee and cream. . . |
[22 Oct 2005|02:19am] |
Get up!!! Please tell me, where will we you go from here? Where is there left to travel when you finally reach the top? What more is there to have when you have everything? You'll die and turn to dust, just like the rest of us. What then will you have to say for yourself?
That's what I thought. . . and I refuse to listen from now on. (you can't do that. ON is a preposition. I taught you better than that shit.) So switch to your lowbeams and stop blowing that fucking horn at me.
"Goodbye....................................................................................................................................................................................."
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| because 10's just take |
[01 Sep 2005|08:04am] |
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mood |
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Freakin' Pissed |
] |
longer than 19's. . .
I.J.Bitch. Laugh it up.
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| Hello KItty. . .Goodbye Kitty |
[27 Apr 2005|01:05pm] |
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music |
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What's new pussycat? |
] |
This morning, I woke to the strange sound of something that I now realize falls somewhere under the category of one animal ripping another to bits (Of course, I have been know to exaggerate). Anyway, making my way across the room the get my glasses from the top of the tv, I noticed small fragments of grey looking matter scattered about the floor.
"WHAAAT?..."
Finally, after stumbling about for a moment, I saw them clearly. Feathers! Everywhere! Feathers! I thought for a moment that maybe the cat destroyed one of the feather pillows from my bedroom. But I was in the living room. . .and I don't own any feather pillows. Moments later, I saw the cat, hunched over near the front door.
That little menace murdered a poor little bird and spread it's pretty little birdy feathers all over my living room. Sigh* I'm sorry kitty, I love you dearly, but you've got to go. And, if you could possibly clean up all the messes you create, I would strongly advise that you do so before you left.
R.I.P. The Bird who was murdered in cold blood this morning.
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| go ahead and say it. . . |
[04 Mar 2005|01:11am] |
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mood |
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this is so about you. . . |
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music |
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vehemence - made her for jesus |
] |
“like a slender glass of koolaid in a heatstorm--death herself in a ruby red dress”,
all painted and nailed up like some dead fucking hooker
stop patronizing me you filthy whore.
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| Those are some Cool Cats Man. . . |
[26 Feb 2005|04:26pm] |
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mood |
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Chillin' |
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music |
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Between the Buried and Me - "Alaska" |
] |
The other day in the breakroom, I saw this huge african-american guy wearing an arby's uniform. His back was facing me and I didn't think anything at first, but then the guy turns around and says, "I thought that was you dog." Much to my surprise, it turned out to be none other than Leon O. He comes and sits down next to me and I ask, "what're you doin' here Leon? I figured you were away at school." He says he applied to a couple schools, but never went. So he and Shawn Pace are living together in middlesboro, and both of them work right next door at Arby's. Sweet!
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[24 Feb 2005|12:36am] |
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music |
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"he's in the jailhouse now"-from oh brother, where art thou? |
] |
Today at work:
Brian: "Do that twirly thing Kev."
Me: "Why? It's not necassary at all. I have a sheeter."
Brian: "I dunno. Come on, just do it."
Me: (tossing the dough so that it just misses the ceiling) "There."
Brian: "Oh. . .! That looks so fucking cool man!"
Me: (under my breath) "Phh. Idiot!"
It absolutely amazes me to see that people are just so very easily amused ;)
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[12 Jan 2005|06:19pm] |
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mood |
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amused (as fuck) |
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music |
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Luck be a lady - Frank? Maybe |
] |
( Stolen From Roy )
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[11 Jan 2005|02:34pm] |
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mood |
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outrageously outraged |
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music |
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franz ferdinand - take me out |
] |
You can't take your eyes off her, and that's the way she likes it. It isn't because she's beautiful, although she usually is. A drama Queen needs an audience to live, and you are it, my friend. Her needs are volcanic and her appetites are legend. She can be good or she can be bad, but she cannot be ignored. She must be the center of attention, and if she isn't, well, she never met an uproar she didn't like.
When she finally makes her exit, all she leaves in her wake is the pungent scent of high drama and heavy perfume.
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[06 Jan 2005|07:22am] |
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mood |
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Crazy |
] |
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music |
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Under the spreading chestnut tree, I sold you and you sold me. |
] |
( A Strange Discussion )
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| Night skies are always the most beautiful, don't you think? |
[28 Dec 2004|01:52am] |
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mood |
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Much Better |
] |
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music |
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Vehemence - Her Beautiful Eyes |
] |
I sat with death and reminisced warm, drawn out days of a summer past . Days that seemed to last forever. Days that now, are gone forever. And, for just a little while longer, we chased the halo wrapped around the moon. To find that he isn't a huge fan of coffee is like finding that tons of sugar isn't bad for your teeth. That cat's got a strange sense of humor. But, like true friends tend to do sometimes, he laughed as I sobbingly confessed what I had done. The moisture began to freeze as it fell from my face. Tears shattered into tiny rain</font>bows as the children of the park pounded nails into bloodstained hands. Those poor and innocent children, damned to an existence of nothingness by the very people who gave them life. It's kind of sad. I thought about them for what seemed like an eternity before I realized. . . he was pointing his long, decaying finger in my general direction. So, I took a long look toward the window and let it all drift even further away. With my head held high over the bright neon sign, he grasped his black wand and we made murder in the moonlite.
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| As I came back from Bigelow |
[27 Dec 2004|04:49am] |
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mood |
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.peaceful |
] |
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music |
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John Pizarelli - Route 66 |
] |
The road signs seemed to call out your name. Almost every single one read the following:
45 M.P.H.
The various colors and numbers meant nothing to me, nor did the signs themselves. That is, until you came along and gave me a reason to take notice.
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| Bah Humstoner! |
[26 Dec 2004|12:45am] |
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mood |
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.cold |
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music |
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Live - Freaks |
] |
Earlier, my not so little brother Shawn walks into my house. He deosn't say anything and just stares blankly at me for a second. Out of nowhere, he raises both of his hands in the air making devilhorns as if he were at a classic rock concert. He then says in the most stoner voice I've ever heard, "Fuck yeah man, it's Jesus's birthday. Let's go smoke a bowl!" My sides haven't hurt that much in such a long time. If today's events were on a top ten list, that would be number one, followed by the "bangin" christmas party I had all by myself.
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| Breaking down the structure |
[24 Dec 2004|04:03pm] |
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mood |
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.sleepy |
] |
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music |
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At The Gates - Blinded By Fear |
] |
As I stood all alone inside the bright ray of the streetlamp, I took notice of the craftsmanship put into the masonry. Gazing at every single one of those bricks, in precisely the correct position and time, made me realize something. This place was merely a beautiful reverie. Induced, no doubt, by some irrational thought of horror in the dark waters of my mind. It's the "face of all [my] fears." Ironic, don't you think? Although dreams clearly lack certainty, I knew exactly what was going to happen next. It was almost like reading a book or watching a movie for the third or fourth time. I cannot begin to understand this trite feeling of nothingness somethingness as it ruffles around in the wind. I'll mold it and make it mine.
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