Wednesday, April 23, 2003

I want to fuck the white stripes right now

as in, of late. specifically, the last week and a half. but i hate to get too specific about that shit.
boils the mind.
and i love to be boiled.
not really. that's not the point.

the point is that i want to fuck the white stripes right now.

digest that for a second or seven.



see, and here's where it gets tricky, i don't want to ACTUALLY fuck Jack or Meg White (i mean, i'd probably lean toward meg if there were such a decision to be made, but she's got a pretty nice bosom and god knows, i love me a good bosom) in the biblical sense of the word, but fuck them as a concept.
i'll give you another break. i'm going to get some more wine (two-buck chuck).

on a sidenote, i'm really enjoying this prefuse 73 album (the older one, vocal studies) i'm listening to right now. i am quite, uh, differentiated, at this moment.
you understand. and it's calming me. yes.

my whole life is a series of sentences interrupted by scores of parenthetical sidetracking. it's true.

back to the matter at hand, i mean, c'mon, i do want to fuck the white stripes. they are just getting me off of late. i'm so digging that album and i haven't been into an album in a while. i always seem to come late to the parade for this kind of shit. why? i guess not always because i'm a good picker of soon to be hits too.
depends i suppose.

whatever, they rock. i'm digging their scene like the blow monkeys and shit.
and shit.

it's killing me softly with their love, killing me softly. softly. as soft as a baby's soft spot. which is something that makes me feel like it needs to be tested, that soft spot. think about it. every time, especially as a kid when you were told to 'never touch your sister's/brother's soft spot! bad bad timmy! timmy, don't! you're punished, now go to your room and read more of those subversive books of yours and listen to that satanic music. you are bad for wanting to touch (said sibling)'s soft spot!"
ok, that may not have been exactly how that went down but close.

free to be you and me.

back to what i was saying.
dunno why but the white stripes is hitting me right right now. i've been in a rock mood of late. funny, when i was in miami i felt like that dance vibe was coming back to me but WMC is a fantasyland, a time reserved for itself...kind of like burning man is a specific time set aside, nothing is comparable and you go with the vibe for the week....same thing for miami, i mean...WMC week miami in south beach.
crack baby.
not that i'm not digging the dance scene...but i like this change of pace, break out of the norm..i've always been a person of phases and this is one of those times.
i hear phases.

i listened the new liz phair record today. not sure about it.
overproduced...yet there are some hot horny tracks on there. ...ooh, i always thought she was hot in a girl rock star way....kinda rough around the edges and fucked up...not necessarily super pretty but that's why she's hot....she's inadvertently hot. however, now that she's divorced, she's available and therefore hotter.
there's this song "favorite" where she compares this guy (i'm assuming. could be a woman, huh? she's pretty horny. heh) to fitting perfectly like her favorite underwear. you gotta dig on that.

that song is more like the old kinda raunchy blunt liz phair we all know and love. but there's also this sheryl crow-sound shit that made me want to throw some random wild game through a window. and that never happens.
not that i would do that. i love animals and would feel guilty about it for the rest of my life. no, i'll stick to accidentally killing bugs while walking and call my killing spree to end.
but yeah. nasty.
but it's not bad.
also, new madonna came out today.
hmmmmm. i'm a pop culture freak so i gotta hear that shit you know.

ok, i need to also say that i listened red rider's "lunatic fringe' today. love that guitar riff.
i love working for a place where i can pretty much satisfy almost any sort of musical whim that may cross my mind. virtually anything! so you know, this gig i got, it's not too bad. i'm making the most of it while i'm there.....this job. started as a temp, and got offered to stay. yay! sometimes good things happen to those who believe in the good. sniff sniff.
and furthermore, the bunny bunny jam jam was a fucking freaknoize and shit. nuts and crazy and crazy and crazy and fucked up. yo. i''ll have to post some pics for that. but fuck, who has the time.
my god, it's full of stars.

lower me into a bucket, i'm bursting like ellen burstyn.
sailing like sail-ass.
this kitty laying by the heater is tired.
and she's laying on my bag.

the one that i accidentally dumped an entire bottle (33.8 ounces to be exact) of water because, silly me!, i neglected to put the cover of the bottle back on~
pussy ass pussy.
hefty is a really good label.

Friday, April 18, 2003

sometimes even though you want to say something profound, the words just don't come.
me, i do that.
see, here's the deal. i know i've got to finish this shit but instead, as usual, i press my luck to the maximum, to ensure i pull an allnighter and get more stressed. on the other hand, maybe this is what it takes to get me there.
what the fuck. who knows.

anyway, my point in being here is to exercise my right as a citizen simply to write whatever the fuck i feel like. it's a weird concept but ok, no it's not. really, as an exerciser would stretch his muscles before engaging in said hardcore exercise activity, they do a series of stretches and such. get ready for the big one. yo.
and you know that's the way it's gotta be, see.
hee hee hee.

weirder still in that it is a strange mindset to be in, to write...sometimes it comes easy. sometimes it comes hard. or not at all.

it's all a mental mindfuck no matter what way you're feeling.
tricking yourself into something is so kickass. too bad you're also too smart to be fooled by yourself, since, you know yourself and know what tricks you're gonna pull next. we are fucked up beings.
the older i get the weirder i believe this thing called life really is.

i have zits on my neck. i only get them when i cut my hair short. why is that? dammit jim. fucking bullshit.

life is a series of vignettes, taped in front of a studio audience. being an actor is weird. too bad i'm not one.
i never realized how much Al Jazeera and cokehead McCoy have in common. it's an electric circus, i tell you.

nafta is my thing i am unsure about.

has anybody checked out Friendster yet?
it's so fucking addictive, i nearly got addicted.
and that's a bad scene man, bad scene.

being addicted to carcinogens is no laughing matter. unless you're dead. in which case, even a non-laughing matter doesn't exist. but let's save that for another round of pudding, shall we?

did you know elephants are fucking kickass?

did you know my cat, THE Kitty (who should have a website, dammit) is sitting here with me and she's disgusted with your behavior.
at least you have some kidney stones to emit.
my god, at least you have that.

i met a conductor the other day. sometimes people call him maestro. that would be cool to maybe introduce a young hip maestro to the world.
or not.

people like reading about people. but in shorter, more concise ways.
short attention spans are everywhere.

i'd love to go whale watching soon.
friendster is pretty funny, i must say.
humans can't seem to concentrate on one thought at a time.
isnt' that strange.
i can't believe that Fleetwood Mac is playing on the Today show this morning.
and they did mountains of coke.
i can move move move any mountain
the shamen were odd.
but you know at least they can move any mountain they want to. at least the singer can. i'm not sure about the programmer dude's capabilities, but fuck him anyway. he doesn't deserve my sympathy or support.
support your local finger salesman.

sorry, salesperson. i'm so inpolitically correct. or is it the other way around?
either way, you have no idea what i'm referring to unless you've seen a ghost anyway.

something that bugs me is enigmas. fucking riddles. can't tell what people are saying or talking about.
runnin' round in circles in the sand.

i like clear noodle.

i like the soft cushion of the pen against a stack of paper while writing. that, my friends, is pure bliss if there ever was such a thing. but i don't think there ever was such a thing.

remember to have soup tomorrow.

rolling in my 650.

can it you nitwit!
nobody but nobody uses nitwit anymore.

witless, maybe.
chuckwagon dogfood is not very good. even though i've never tasted it, i'm just guessing. taking an educated guess. a hypothesis, if you will.
and you will so much.
my body says yes and my bonnie lies over the ocean.

i'm sort of upset minimally about the new CherryWine album. no, it's not a wine-influenced album.
maybe it is.
i wasn't there during the recording sessions.
however, i will say....cherrywine is the pseudonym of the man formerly known as doodlebug from digable planets, that ultra cool hepcat hip-hop group from the early 90s that rocked balls and fucked shit up for about 2-3 minutes.
yeah, you know how we do.

cherrywine is like, so bad, it's bad bad.
leroy brown bad.
bad is bad like huey lewis and shit.
fudgepickle and all that jazzzzzzzzz

ghosts of the free will society, love you.
somebody left their bottle of Royal Gate vodka on the floor at the library the other day. that saddened me more than some events of the past 2-3 days.
i mean, shit, how can people leave their perfectly good vodka lying about where people can see? it's not only rude, it's practically a crime in one to four states.

there was weirdface glop person there. that's all i can say. if i say more, i fear i may be done for.
and then who would update this website for the 3-5 readers that read it?

oh 3-5 readers, by the way, i am going to make an upgrade within the next year (hopefully within the next 2 months but things can get dicey down at the mill this time of century) to this site.
because i'm worth it.
you're worth it.
we're all worth it together.

thank you for being an antelope.

i've got to get rid of this hairshirt before my dad finds it.

remember to write back to my email -
if you know what's good for you.

take me home country roads, to the place where i belong.
west virginia, mountain mama
take me home, country roads.

remember to leave me at home with daniel boone.

fudge, grace and cochlear implants forever,


leggin' it at lincoln

Monday, April 14, 2003

Even and odd Flow

Rock stars are the only people that can get away with spitting on others and escape serious injury. Usually.
But if you start throwing bottles, that's a different story.
i mean, remember sebastian bach? god help you if you do. god needs to help me more because i do remember that annoying mother fucker (who was rumored to be recording an album with the former members of guns n roses, which sucks cuz that'll legitimize him for another few years).
he threw bottles at people in the crowd. they sued his ass.

i think of all this because for some reason, i decided to watch the footage from the Pearl Jam show shot at the House of Blues in Orlando Saturday night...maybe it's because my damn Real ONE Player is super annoying and leaves these "messages" for you on your desktop telling you about them too.
just what we need, more distractions.
but i digress ......heh.
i watched it, probably also because i used to be a fan back in the day ("ten" and "vs" - early '90s) when it was cool and stuff. And I was curious to see what they were up to these days.
though probably more than anything, my curiousity was piqued by the recent controversy surrounding Eddie Vedder's comments about Bush and the war at a show in Denver recently.

i watched about two thirds of it...well, watched is a strong word...i was at work and busy doing something else that wasn't requiring me to be on the computer much. so i was more listening and half watching....inbetween the countless times it lost the connection....that's always a fun time...stopping and starting every minute.

Eddie vedder still looks odd with short hair. He's one person that should keep his hair long. short hair just doesn't look right on his head, which is pretty large in diameter.
it would seem anyway.
i thought some of the songs were good, some just ok...i mean, i haven't seen them in many many years so it's hard to compare them today with where they were probably eight years ago. my god man.
i still have to see the encores tomorrow, since the show is only up for 24 hours on real network. still, a cool idea despite all the glitches. i so rarely ever watch any kind of show on the web because they're usually quite tempermental.
eddie vedder has a bulbous head.
makes me think of the time we saw his solo performance back at the ill-fated tibetan freedom concert at alpine valley, wis.
yessir i tell you what.

anyway, this all goes back to my first thought of rock stars being able to spit on people. ol' eddie was throwing out some sort of attitude or some shit...who knows...and spit out a big thing of whatever he was drinking, probably water....such a rockstar thing to do. funny.
cuz, i know i would never want somebody so spit shit on me and i would avoid it at all costs if possible.
i mean, i've been spit on before. it's true.
going to concerts for more than half my life (christ), it's inevitable.
fucking spittle.
it's all bullshit.
they should suffer, the spitters.
i spit probably too much but i do it on the ground, where it's a better place to make such a deposit.
don't you know?
yes, you know.
you know all right.
grandma never knew about that.
maybe we should get the spittoon from ol' granny.
at least for the naval shipyards.

if somebody took a big gulp of drink at the mall, even if he/she was cute/hot/ready to fuck you, the spitting thing on your head and face just wouldn't cut it. you'd be back home shoveling shit in the hog pen with grandpa don.
and fuck that noise.
being on a stage allows you some certain additional unalienable rights. they're in the constitution, and stuff.
chuck daly is still alive.

at least you have penny antes today.
no more spitting.
i only like errant bras on the sidewalk from now on.

i found a quarter today. shiny and new.
i used that quarter on the bart when i was forced at gunpoint to add fare to my card, that i had found on the sidewalk last week, also on 16th street in the lovely city of san francisco, you know the one....

my lids are getting heavy. i best be getting some shuteye.
look for me at the kilgore lodge.

i'll be wearing a duck's vest, blood red trousers and a bib tied around my man-breasts for optimum viewing pleasure.

oh my god!
that just reminded me of a funny thing that happened to me in the elevator today coming back from lunch.
i was nude of course.

no seriously, i was being my normal introspective self, looking like i was super engrossed with the Entertainment Weekly i was reading (yeah, aren't i impressive?) and this mom and her teenage daughter were standing waiting for the elevator in my building. now, the elevator isn't exactly easy to's not right in front of the main door, but around a corner, so they had obviously been there before.
they were talking back and forth regarding how the girl looked (she was probably 16 or 17, high school, tall, thin, brunette, white) and her mom whispers to her that her "headlights are on."
"i can't help it, it's cold," the daughter says. but then adds "i think they look better that way." and the mom agrees, though i can't remember the exact response.
and i'm the only one standing there. in fact, we were not more than a few feet from each other.
i could tell, as you often can when you're pretending to read but really eavesdropping, that the girl was doing the occasional look over at me to see if i was reacting to what they were saying and...seeing if i was paying attention.
i don't know how to respond to that. do i make it known that "hey, i know what's going on."
do i do the quick glance (which i did) purely for curiousity's sake, a sizing up, if you will, that everyone does to each other when walking in the city, and especially when on public transportation. i must look safe because people always sit next to me.
today it was a large black man, 2-3 times my size. then again, i'm not that big.

but i digress...

the funniest part was once we got inside the elevator, which moves incredibly slow (it's a freight elevator that's been converted to a people elevator too, probably to meet building codes), they continued talking but at a subdued whisper again. like, standing a few feet away from me in an enclosed space and i'm not going to hear the whispering. it was hilarious. unfortunately, nothing as titillating as the "headlights" comment but it definitely piqued my interest.

but you know, as people with scanners have told me, the large bulk of conversation is pointless drivel but once in a while you overhear some steaming hot sexual shit. and that's when it's time to get worked up.
work it.
you betta work.
my cup runneth over.

dirt is better than silk.
sookie sookie now.

chastened by betrayal,

Evan Bayh
things that are rocking my scene, currently

Hefty Records Sampler - near-perfect weirdo experimental electronic music. really good crackly minimal shit. From The Wire.

The White Stripes - Elephant: Play it really fucking loud. the last track is hilarious "Well It's True That We Love One Another" (reminds me of Mamas & Papas' "Creeque Alley" - nobody else has noticed this?), though Meg can't sing to save her life. soooo flat, her vocals are unbelievably bad, comical. The 3rd track is amazing too - "There's No Home For You Here"

Chicago - yeah, i'm way way late to this bandwagon but i'm on it. call me a follower. call me sold out. i dug it and want to see it again.

Google News

Cat Cookies for People

The POW's being found, especially Shoshana Johnson,
because i was rooting for her the most. is that wrong of me to be rooting for some POW's over others? regardless, she was the one POW i remembered. And see, people can be for PEACE and still have compassion for the soldiers. god knows, they didn't make the decision to go. that would have been, as Saddam liked to call him, "Little Bush."

Cuntle - speaking of Bush, this is a new word that i recently made up that i kind of like. rolls both off and into the tongue.

Some shit that kind of sucks

The "war" for obvious reasons
The death of journalist David Bloom
the supposed "new" war we're starting with Syria
Cat cookies for people - they give me gas.

Saturday, April 12, 2003

Windy city rocks balls

we saw Chicago
and i gotta admit, it was GREAT. seriously. blown away. and i'm not much of a fan of musicals nor renee zelwegger but it was sooo good. lots of FLASH and RAZZLE DAZZLE, but also, lots of dark humor regarding murder and plenty of commentary about manipulation of the media, of the general public (the movie in itself commits many of the same horrors it satirizes on screen), and, even though set in the 1920s in essentially lawless Chicago, is chock full of sly contemporary references.

sure, i'm super late to this bandwagon but i have to admit, i was quite skeptical. but it more than lived up to the hype.
we saw Chicago today.
and i gotta admit, it was GREAT. seriously. blown away. and i'm not much of a fan of musicals nor renee zelwegger but it was sooo good. lots of FLASH and RAZZLE DAZZLE, but also, lots of dark humor regarding murder and plenty of commentary about manipulation of the media, of the general public (the movie in itself commits many of the same horrors it satirizes on screen), and, even though set in the 1920s in essentially lawless Chicago, is chock full of sly contemporary references.

sure, i'm super late to this bandwagon but i have to admit, i was quite skeptical. but it more than live up to the type.

Friday, April 11, 2003

so what? what difference does it make if i actually totally dig a few classic rock hits?
i mean, they haven't all played out yet.

10cc's "the things we do for love" and "i'm not in love"

crosby stills nash & young - "carry on"

so screw your righteous closeminded bullshit.
and you have a good day.
fight the real enemy (with apologies to sinead)

the real enemy are parking patrol officers. let's bomb them instead. how can you turn against your fellow human beings like that? everybody needs to make a buck, but come on. you have serious self-hate issues if you're a parking person. no question. and likely, a jones for powertripping.
in college, we used to bomb them by throwing various food items we stole from the cafeteria (what can i say, i was 19). hell, my roommate (or was it my brother?) saved eggs for like weeks/months (can't recall) and threw 'em. that must have been fun.
then again, the college parking fuckers were total Nazis.
parking people - they can't make all that much money and i'd bet it's hourly. the upside would be that you're working by yourself a lot and moving at your own speed. i wonder if they have a quota? people always suggest that but i've never known anyone to ever confirm it yes or no.

i see the same mother fuckers every day in this part of San Francisco, in Potrero hill. i walk down 16th every day and see all the junkies and various peeps.
the same dealer-looking black dude who's always sitting somewhere with people around him, he with the big fucking boil on the side of his face. yeah, you read that right.
anyway, this part of the city just isn't as exciting.
i actually miss the chaos of downtown. however, i like learning about the various areas of the city.
even the peets is too damn slow, but i go there because i need my good lattes to be strong and of good moral character.
they move soooo muchhhh slower at this peets, damn.
i wanna be in and outta there in 5 minutes, not 15.

however, the Mexican women (all quite short, i noted today) at New York Bagel next door (with jamba juice inbetween - i'm an eager patron of all three) keep their shit moving. they're on it, usually. they get a gold star today.

i found a random bra on the sidewalk the other day on alabama. i wondered "from whence does this bra come? was it stolen clothing and they forgot something? was it a woman on her way to do laundry and dropped it after finding out she was going to be late getting home to watch the conclusion of "joe millionaire." maybe it was some girl on her way home early in the morning after an unplanned one-nighter with Joey down at the Ill Perata. i estimated it to be about a B cup, though i didn't pick it up, so i'll never know.

i saw an inordinate amount of people riding scooters today. what's up with that? motorized scooters, mind you, not those shitty ones you have to use your own inept human power. who needs human power for that shit anyway? we're a civilized society, right? we shouldn't be forced to move from place to place by ourselves? we need help from machines! yes yes yes!

i'm putting my headphones back on.
because i'm still here working at aol music. it's difficult work i tell you. very very difficult. only one to three people in afghanistan could do what i'm doing right now.
remember that next election.

Drop the right kind of bomb

and also, this is, at least, something to think about.
Statue toppling wasn't what it seemed

the U.S. government, manipulating the media? no way, it can't be. i just don't believe it. i saw it on tv. it MUST be true.

i am the type of person that tries to avoid conflict at all costs.
so it's understandable to you, then, that i don't always like to tell the friendly folks at ny bagel here in potrero hill (16th and potrero, the safeway strip mall of sorts that was once labeled the "dot-com shopping mall" by a former coworker at - of course, that same person today denies he ever uttered such words..that's another pet peeve of mine...people who say they didn't say the things they really did say! yeah!) to make it light on the cream cheese.
having to make "special Orders" my entire life thanks to my extreme pickiness regarding eating (i have texture issues fuck off), i hate having to go above and beyond the norm, especially in the morning, when i'm at my worst usually.

Wednesday, April 09, 2003

it's the most wonderful time, of the year...

so it's one of those "historical days" type and what have i got for you?
well, jackhammer, take a look at this wonderful piece of the pie.
remember to wear your blankets.

from AllHipHop

"After 2 years in jail, ODB has reinvented himself with a new name - Dirt McGirt ODB. 'He's coming out & feels its time to start over & take the world by storm,' manager Jared Weisfeld told 'He's going to be Ol' Dirty Businessman now.' ODB will release a line of underwear & clothing line this year. Dirt has assumed different monikers including the infamous Big Baby Jesus."

now see man, i LOVED big baby jesus. why did odb have to lost that name? that was a good one, damn you pencil neck.
i loved that shit.
more than vanilla d.
more than pechunka c.

and you know the drill.

damn, where is mc 900 foot jesus today?

the last song on the new white stripes album is pretty funny.
i'm officially trendy - i purchased tickets to see the Yeah Yeah Yeahs in san francisco.
i guess i've sold out too.
fuck, what will the indie kids say to me now?

gravy is not as good as i say it is. gravy is just a fun word to say.
i'm using a laptop right now.
i have sweat coming from my naked skin.
too bad i'm not nude (there is a difference you know).

i have always hated pencils.

weasels aren't that cool.

my bowling pin kicks ass.

lame ass gelatin never works out.

people love vanilla ice cream.

don't they?
grandma always loved soup.

yes, she did.

my left eye hurts.
thanks a lot liz phair.

where are thou liz?

oh yeah, they toppled the saddam statue today.
or should i say, yesterday, since, we here in the bay area are 11 hours behind them.
so right now it's nearly 11 a.m. in baghdad.
b.o.b. indeed.

fierce fighting continues.
now we just need to figure out a way to get bush out of office.
dammit jim, i'm a piercer not a protector.

lay me down to sleep, soul breakers

your king stinks.

keep on wearing those eggshells, monsignor.
they'll look great with your hat.

see you real soon numbchucks!

your favorite pontiff in the whole wide fucking world,

pantry clump

Tuesday, April 08, 2003

I love elephants so much

and also....some words of wisdom from our good ol' pal, will shakeyspears.

Hail Ceasar?

"Beware the leader who bangs the drums of war in order to whip the citizenry into a patriotic fervor, for patriotism is indeed a double-edged sword. It both emboldens the blood, just as it narrows the mind. And when the drums of war have reached a fever pitch and the blood boils with hate and the mind has closed, the leader will have no need in seizing the rights of the citizenry. Rather, the citizenry, infused with fear and blinded by patriotism, will offer up all of their rights unto the leader and gladly so. How do I know? For this is what I have done. And
I am Caesar."
-- Julius Caesar
so much to talk about and so little to say in the amount of time we have oh dear lord.

goodness gracious, i got me stored up in a turnpike.

looks like salad again, at least for ol' uncle grumpa.

so yeah.. i can't believe all this shit of late. the latest greatness is the oakland police shooting rubber bullets and wooden pellets at the nonviolent demonstrators. even the longshoremen, who the PD was supposedly protecting, were hit in the crossfire and one fellow even commented that there was no need for that kind of force.

but such is life now.
turmoil turmoil turmoil.
and yes, more turmoil.
and drama too.
cakes cakes cakes.

everybody loves cakes.
too bad you can't have anymore cake, for i have taken that cake and laid it to rest for someone else to enjoy.
hey hey hey.
larry decided to drop me off at the fisherman's lodge today.
grandma chicken decided it was a good day to take medicine.
medicine man no hands can they sand a man bland cand.

canned wheat makes me feel funny in the summertime.
canned heat is going up to the country.
strumming all the way.
fiery depths of hell await your masterful goodness.

too bad i wore shoes today.
i would have liked to have had bacon and spaghetti.

i went to pakwan today in the mission. that is a fine pakistani establishment, i must say.
sure, the counter help is a bit, errrm, stern and/or cantankerous, but hey, they serve up hearty dishes of steaming hot goodness.
god, i could be writing a damn porno right now.
and then we wandered off into the back, her sweaty back exposed under the gaudy fluorescent light, the polyester clinging to her round, supple ass like a sopping wet sheet.
see, i rule america and the free world of china.
english speaking people please do not apply.
your face does not apply.
you are not an animal.
you are a robot.
you are so beautiful.
to meeeee.
can't you seeee.

baked ham is never better this time of year..Kurds love ham.
people often believe i am asian.
they do.
some people. a few of them at least.
dammit jim, i'm a doctor not a bricklayer.
or a hypodermic needle.

stabbing is better.
scabs are better.
luscious jackson is not better.

make love to milkmaids tomorrow.

suck mammals.

territorial dressings,

Thursday, April 03, 2003

take care good and faithful servants, for the hour is close at hand.
or maybe not.
who the hell knows or cares.
all i know is, where's my baked goods?

day 2 on the non-smoking's strange. but clearing my head slowly but surely.
because, i must be ready for possibly being called up with arms. cuz, i don't like legs. i need my arms. ok i need my legs too.
fucking bullshit, i tell you.

i'm mad as hell and i'm not going to take it anymore.

i'm full of self-doubt and pity and i'm not going to take it anymore.
somehow i have to get past the wall of self-doubt and fear of success. i'm sick of seeing shit happen for other people and me choosing to do nothing rather than TRY.
am i just lazy?
it's cuz my diet sucks.
i wish i wish i wish.,
fuck pigs.

glue your eyelids together.
yes, it's true. i'm still alive. i seem to have these episodes in which i don't speak for a month or so. i really don't know why this is. meanwhile, i am blowing chances at actually accomplishing something. why is that?