i'm going to eat fucking mini ravolis and nobody is going to stop me.
have sex with chicken.
chicken your ass.
you are a fucking chicken.
fuck that chicken.
babals of towers.
chim.
Wednesday, January 15, 2003
pussy.
that's what it's all about.
pussy.
lots of it.
fuck yeah.
yeah fuck.
oh fuck.
fuck fuck.
fuck me.
fuck you.
fuck me hard.
i wanna fuck you hard.
fuck me you fucker.
i want to fuck you now so bad.
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
fuck.
dammit, man can't you remember a goddamn thing? can't you?
bitch?
snatch.
ana.
abraham was a wee little man.
actually that was zacheius.
he was short you know, or so the story goes.
ah religion.
it is pretty funny, isn't it?
hardee har har har.
and more.
secx.
excess.
grim feature.
that's what it's all about.
pussy.
lots of it.
fuck yeah.
yeah fuck.
oh fuck.
fuck fuck.
fuck me.
fuck you.
fuck me hard.
i wanna fuck you hard.
fuck me you fucker.
i want to fuck you now so bad.
fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.
fuck.
dammit, man can't you remember a goddamn thing? can't you?
bitch?
snatch.
ana.
abraham was a wee little man.
actually that was zacheius.
he was short you know, or so the story goes.
ah religion.
it is pretty funny, isn't it?
hardee har har har.
and more.
secx.
excess.
grim feature.
Tuesday, January 14, 2003
actual email (barely edited) from myself to a friend i left behind in a land some men call michigan. here, we delve....
DEEP.
some names have been deleted to protect the guilty parties involved in these malicious hate crimes
hey [person of unknown origin, sex or creed],
nice to see you over the holiday.
hope everything is rolling smooth for you.
i am feeling fine in the 03.
what you think?
yep.
so i was just giving you a holler, to say, yo, i am still alive.
yessir.
and hey, maybe i'll send you a cd-r with some mp3 mixes and such....live mixes by me. just because.
exciting isn't it?
i can tell you are especially excited.
i use itunes.
will that work for you?
you have a burner.
yes.
today i took a break from the hard physical labor job i do to grab a latte and bagel and, whoops, didn't bother to bring my jacket, wearing only a t-shirt and jeans.
and it was ok.
ah, san francisco. warm in january. it's been like high 50s daytime, cool at night sometimes (30s even, though usually low 40s)....
fuck yeah.
there's definitely a certain sort of, um, well, chill down your bones or back,,,whatever, you know what i'm saying.
in michigan, there is a cold, chilling feeling one gets down their spine during harsh cold winter..but it's much drier in mich..
here in sf, during the winter it rains a lot more, usually just showers not big storms.....so it's a lot more moist, a bit damp at times...always at least a small breeze, though in downtown SF it can get pretty windy out of fucking nowhere.
you'll go past a big building and then, POW!, you're hit by gigantor wind blast of doom, spelling certain disaster to the follically challenged who have learned from past experience and wear hats when zooming about SF's financial district -- of which i currently work in -- and short skirt-wearing floozies/hotties/slipshod would-be businesswomen and their ilk (though i can't say as if i would be offended if i saw a woman pull a marilyn monroe on the steam tunnels), and in fact, it seems like i have caught a glimpse or two of various panties and nylons or nothing, swept up by the ever so mysterious wind tunnels of doom.
it's never dull... just a different sort of weather pattern. more consistent, i.e. a mediterranean climate, being on the ocean and all.
yeah.
so there, you got a brief and intriguing look at bay area weather patterns.
tune in next boxing day to hear more exciting non sequiter weather yarns, including san francisco micro climates, the joy of dense fog, and typhoon trivia.
paste your face on the medicine cabinet, press play and let your dreams become championship reality.
it's all in the cards. i can tell you that.
ok, bucker,
see you on the flip side.
my agenda this year looks like this:
miami - third week of march
detroit - memorial day
europe??? -- sometime between november 03 and feb 04. or if possible, that entire time.
i'm hoping to go at least a month.
i feel like it's something i have to do soon...i.e i really really want to go to europe.
somehow, someway or whey.
patch things up. i'm going there.
if all goes according to plan.
i am currently in the midst of a scheme.
ok.
back to whatever i was doing.....
always something.
say yo to your dog, whose name i cannot remember because i am a bit, shall we say, greased.
i'm down to scraps. my *friend* comes back wednesday.
tis all good, tho.
good day to you sir,
timmmmmmmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
crackers are good. crackers are the solution to world peace.
mark my words.
and please,
make no mistake.
DEEP.
some names have been deleted to protect the guilty parties involved in these malicious hate crimes
hey [person of unknown origin, sex or creed],
nice to see you over the holiday.
hope everything is rolling smooth for you.
i am feeling fine in the 03.
what you think?
yep.
so i was just giving you a holler, to say, yo, i am still alive.
yessir.
and hey, maybe i'll send you a cd-r with some mp3 mixes and such....live mixes by me. just because.
exciting isn't it?
i can tell you are especially excited.
i use itunes.
will that work for you?
you have a burner.
yes.
today i took a break from the hard physical labor job i do to grab a latte and bagel and, whoops, didn't bother to bring my jacket, wearing only a t-shirt and jeans.
and it was ok.
ah, san francisco. warm in january. it's been like high 50s daytime, cool at night sometimes (30s even, though usually low 40s)....
fuck yeah.
there's definitely a certain sort of, um, well, chill down your bones or back,,,whatever, you know what i'm saying.
in michigan, there is a cold, chilling feeling one gets down their spine during harsh cold winter..but it's much drier in mich..
here in sf, during the winter it rains a lot more, usually just showers not big storms.....so it's a lot more moist, a bit damp at times...always at least a small breeze, though in downtown SF it can get pretty windy out of fucking nowhere.
you'll go past a big building and then, POW!, you're hit by gigantor wind blast of doom, spelling certain disaster to the follically challenged who have learned from past experience and wear hats when zooming about SF's financial district -- of which i currently work in -- and short skirt-wearing floozies/hotties/slipshod would-be businesswomen and their ilk (though i can't say as if i would be offended if i saw a woman pull a marilyn monroe on the steam tunnels), and in fact, it seems like i have caught a glimpse or two of various panties and nylons or nothing, swept up by the ever so mysterious wind tunnels of doom.
it's never dull... just a different sort of weather pattern. more consistent, i.e. a mediterranean climate, being on the ocean and all.
yeah.
so there, you got a brief and intriguing look at bay area weather patterns.
tune in next boxing day to hear more exciting non sequiter weather yarns, including san francisco micro climates, the joy of dense fog, and typhoon trivia.
paste your face on the medicine cabinet, press play and let your dreams become championship reality.
it's all in the cards. i can tell you that.
ok, bucker,
see you on the flip side.
my agenda this year looks like this:
miami - third week of march
detroit - memorial day
europe??? -- sometime between november 03 and feb 04. or if possible, that entire time.
i'm hoping to go at least a month.
i feel like it's something i have to do soon...i.e i really really want to go to europe.
somehow, someway or whey.
patch things up. i'm going there.
if all goes according to plan.
i am currently in the midst of a scheme.
ok.
back to whatever i was doing.....
always something.
say yo to your dog, whose name i cannot remember because i am a bit, shall we say, greased.
i'm down to scraps. my *friend* comes back wednesday.
tis all good, tho.
good day to you sir,
timmmmmmmiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii
crackers are good. crackers are the solution to world peace.
mark my words.
and please,
make no mistake.
Monday, January 13, 2003
runteldat!
martin lawrence sucks.
karen finley is coming to berkeley. i should see her. she was banned. i like banned people.
i wish i could be banned.
i always go on here with the wish to make an important comment about something that could affect your very being but then i'm so dumb i forget by the time i get here.
bullshit.
it's all bullshit.
see!
where is mr. randy watson when we need him?
brush your face off. i'm standing her on the corner with yoko ono and she's screaming like a banshee.
how will i ever get out of this jam?
jam on it.
martin lawrence sucks.
karen finley is coming to berkeley. i should see her. she was banned. i like banned people.
i wish i could be banned.
i always go on here with the wish to make an important comment about something that could affect your very being but then i'm so dumb i forget by the time i get here.
bullshit.
it's all bullshit.
see!
where is mr. randy watson when we need him?
brush your face off. i'm standing her on the corner with yoko ono and she's screaming like a banshee.
how will i ever get out of this jam?
jam on it.
that is bullshit; hare krishna
yeah, what can you do.
you know you're in trouble when you're licking a bag.
like the kitty is licking one.
or smelling a flower.
in someone's ass.
more mary jane please.
today, the 49ers got stomped by tampa bay and the raiders beat the Jets.
joy.
can't you tell how joyful i am?
good heavens miss sakamoto, you're beautiful.
taster's choice is the best way to think about these things.
there is no more Happy.
he does not exist anymore.
we are happy.
that happy is gone.
it seems much emptier. the kitties are noticeably pleased, i.e. extremely curious about all this new open space they never were able to enjoy ever before.
yes it is true.
Happy is gone.
it is a happy day.
we didn't leave on a sour note, though we are glad to see him go.
frightful, he was...to live with.
just a slob.
slobberoo.
Ol' Happy doesn't even have a job in LA, where he's heading.
yep.
\
something in my armpit hurts.
my left armpit.
fucking bullshit, that's what that is.
bullshit.
i am stronger, faster and more spirited than your average template.
a year ago today i was working for aka euro rscg or was it mvbms partners?
i can never remember which.
feeling antisocial of late...at least...more so than usual.
need to take a step back, reassess shit.
you know?
damn.
you know.
Baal is watching. and he is waiting. for you.
don't be blue. wear a screw. your hair is new.
planet earth is blue and there's nothing i can do.
i should change my page now santa.
i should change my page.
i should do a lot of things.
piles of books i'm always "going to read."
piles of shit everywhere, shit i at some point deemed essential enough to stay.
but see, i never want to be immediate about my clean-up.
present tense tim doesn't want to deal with the hassle. present tense tim is all about the NOW, hence the name.
but see, future tim gets pissed at present tense tim because future tim isn't necessarily any more organized than present tense tim, or, in this particular reference, past tim.
but you see what i'm saying.
yes, indeed.
or there are the times like today, in which present tense tim helps out future tim, such as purchasing enough shoe strings to last this current situation (two shoes with fucked up laces for several weeks - yes, i am extremely lazy).
i'm good at it too.
hold on while i take another hit off this lazy-making pipe.
lit courageously and defiantly (fuck you femi-nazis...even though i kind of admire femi-nazis, until they're mean to me personally..then they suck).
fuck you america and your puny laws!
you can't stop me!
yet, i will sit for an hour obsessing about the cleanliness of said pipe(s) - glass, thank you... REAL pot conossieurs only smoke out of glass accessories.
they ARE the easiest to keep clean. plus, very handy this for the concert-going public, they don't set off metal detector machines.
not that that many clubs in SF actually have metal detectors,,,but in this time of extreme overprotection from potential terrorist attacks (usually the guys that live down the street with their big families, loud dogs, screaming kids and various temporary "guests" drinking beer till 4am on their front lawn), it's always good to be, uh, wise about how overt you are about your drug use.
which, took a bit of getting used to after moving to SF.
i mean, shit, living in midwest, you come to expect people to speak in very very hushed tones when speaking about illegal activity such as this.
i definitely remembered the difference between michigan and the bay area regarding permissiveness of open drug use when i sparked up a pipe stuffed with smuggled california green (because, as a pot snob, i cannot and will not smoke the skanky-ass twig-heavy "mexican" (i.e. homegrown) brick shit commonly available in the great lakes area) in the middle of the Planet E party in Detroit at the DEMF 02 with tamara p.
we argued with the guys who busted us for a good 10 minutes that we weren't leaving. luckily we had press passes so we just wandered next door over at richie hawtin's tactile/scary for fucked up tweakers party...totally drenched in darkness, with thick ass fog everywhere. you would randomly have your hand run into somebody's face, breast, shoulder, neck, etc.
couldn't be helped.
copping a feel wouldn't be as easy as some pervs might think. (see, i wouldnt' actually DO this, me not being a perv or anything...but thinking about what other dorks who in fact ARE pervs, and what they might do in a situation such as that), because.....your natural instinct is to put your hands out in front of you, to protect your face, your head, your brain, eyes, chest (heart) and shit like that you really need, yo.
so you're not doing a lot of random ass grabbing or cootchie scrumping, especially when, at a party such as richie hawtin's, you're more likely to run into a guy than a girl....guys usually out number women at virtually all social events that involve dancing, drinking alcohol, taking illegal(and legal) drugs, and such sundries.
song now playing: Seefeel's "Time to Find Me" (AFX - aphex twin - slow mix) old old old..
good good good.
minimal minimal minimal.
minimal is good.
so was manimal.
maybe not.
back to what i was saying.
which was.
smoke more, um, green plates.
oh joy of joys.
joy of cake.
hallelujah
hare krishna
durutti column is playing. i really don't know them that well. i probably should know them better than i do.
thing is, there are probably a lot of bands that i SHOULD know more shit about.
but who gives a shit at the end of the day.
it's not like i got a guy i gotta check in with each day before i go to bed, before i punch out for the day, who quizzes me on the latest music gossip, the latest musical genres springing forth, and the hot shit as it were.
i mean, i wish i did, because it would keep me sharp.
you know.
fuck satan.
speaking of...satan.
but first, i should finish my thought i was going to finish, the reason i opened this damn blog thingie back open (procrastinating YET AGAIN, story of my posse life isn't it? aol's steve case resigned today. see, i predicted it just a few days ago. i'm so fucking prescient, i rule the omniscient scene soon, what you think homes?).
the kitty is sleeping on my left arm. she tends to do that when i type.
could also have something to do with the fact i am smoking mary jane and she really enjoys being around when mary jane is around.
but THE kitty is rather large marge.
dammit.
and i need an additional beverage, because of my oral fixation (hey, i beat cigarettes. give me a fucking medal), as well as my addiction to mary jane (hey, you can't win 'em all bitch). make that psychological addiction to mary jane. there exists a difference.
it's true.
not that it matters. fuck you.
i am my own person.
i choose.
choose life.
choose a fucking big television.
see, this is what happens to your brain on plugs.
especially with the hat i'm wearing right now.
see, now that reminds me of my goddamn facial hair that i'm sporting right now.
which still isn't talking about what i planned on talking about...the damn porn lighters of tina's.
but now it's 12:20 am and the kitty is getting heavier on my left arm as i type and i still need that drink of liquid. fuck pig.
back,
fucking kitty is a constant licker of everything.
bullshit.
someday i'll get my shit together. as soon as i fuck myself up more.
good idea don't you think.
the kitty is licking my right hand now.
ok.
first, satan.
rosemary's baby, like so many films from that era (i call it the "olden times"), the scariness seemed forced and stilted, almost uncomfortable.
in fact, i often feel uncomfortable and jostled about conversation-wise when viewing old films. the dialogue just doesn't.....work....right.
seems, forced.
not real.
but even when people from olden times (like back in the 30s and before that)...are interviewed for real, people often come off as really stiff,,,more formal...though it was a new medium,,people weren't saturated like we are today.
we can't ever go back though.
something calming about Miles Davis. as i get older, i realize it takes a certain, specific sort of mindset to even sort of get miles.
and i don't pretend to KNOW miles. fuck that.
only miles knew miles.
but that's a whole other issue.
bitch.
so fuck satan too.
lame.
but funny in a kitschy, gloriously odd way.
mia farrow was odd. cute. strange. very wide-eyed intellectual sorta-hippie wannabe. at least she was then.
john cassavetes' character, her husband, who was obviously much older, i guess was supposed to be a cold and callous hollywood type but i wasn't buying it.
i liked him in that film "tempest" though with molly ringwald and gena something.
so yeah, the porn lighters.
tina's christmas craft.
i like this christmas craft.
a highlight of my holiday season this year, which, proved to me more than anything else, i can have an enjoyable holiday season as long as i concentrate on not trying too hard to do anything.
flying by the seat of my pants as it were, rocked this year, more for new year's than xmas...but it was interesting to NOT be at home on christmas day for the first time in my life.
a stupid turning point in a life, sure, but then again, i'm the only one that really has to give a shit.
and i do give a shit.
so fuck you.
fuck chew.
fu chew.
these pretzels are making me thirsty.
too bad i'm not eating pretzels.
ok this has to end.
i have to do my shit.
like, my jobby job shit.
damn right.
puto.
cake for some.
yeah, what can you do.
you know you're in trouble when you're licking a bag.
like the kitty is licking one.
or smelling a flower.
in someone's ass.
more mary jane please.
today, the 49ers got stomped by tampa bay and the raiders beat the Jets.
joy.
can't you tell how joyful i am?
good heavens miss sakamoto, you're beautiful.
taster's choice is the best way to think about these things.
there is no more Happy.
he does not exist anymore.
we are happy.
that happy is gone.
it seems much emptier. the kitties are noticeably pleased, i.e. extremely curious about all this new open space they never were able to enjoy ever before.
yes it is true.
Happy is gone.
it is a happy day.
we didn't leave on a sour note, though we are glad to see him go.
frightful, he was...to live with.
just a slob.
slobberoo.
Ol' Happy doesn't even have a job in LA, where he's heading.
yep.
\
something in my armpit hurts.
my left armpit.
fucking bullshit, that's what that is.
bullshit.
i am stronger, faster and more spirited than your average template.
a year ago today i was working for aka euro rscg or was it mvbms partners?
i can never remember which.
feeling antisocial of late...at least...more so than usual.
need to take a step back, reassess shit.
you know?
damn.
you know.
Baal is watching. and he is waiting. for you.
don't be blue. wear a screw. your hair is new.
planet earth is blue and there's nothing i can do.
i should change my page now santa.
i should change my page.
i should do a lot of things.
piles of books i'm always "going to read."
piles of shit everywhere, shit i at some point deemed essential enough to stay.
but see, i never want to be immediate about my clean-up.
present tense tim doesn't want to deal with the hassle. present tense tim is all about the NOW, hence the name.
but see, future tim gets pissed at present tense tim because future tim isn't necessarily any more organized than present tense tim, or, in this particular reference, past tim.
but you see what i'm saying.
yes, indeed.
or there are the times like today, in which present tense tim helps out future tim, such as purchasing enough shoe strings to last this current situation (two shoes with fucked up laces for several weeks - yes, i am extremely lazy).
i'm good at it too.
hold on while i take another hit off this lazy-making pipe.
lit courageously and defiantly (fuck you femi-nazis...even though i kind of admire femi-nazis, until they're mean to me personally..then they suck).
fuck you america and your puny laws!
you can't stop me!
yet, i will sit for an hour obsessing about the cleanliness of said pipe(s) - glass, thank you... REAL pot conossieurs only smoke out of glass accessories.
they ARE the easiest to keep clean. plus, very handy this for the concert-going public, they don't set off metal detector machines.
not that that many clubs in SF actually have metal detectors,,,but in this time of extreme overprotection from potential terrorist attacks (usually the guys that live down the street with their big families, loud dogs, screaming kids and various temporary "guests" drinking beer till 4am on their front lawn), it's always good to be, uh, wise about how overt you are about your drug use.
which, took a bit of getting used to after moving to SF.
i mean, shit, living in midwest, you come to expect people to speak in very very hushed tones when speaking about illegal activity such as this.
i definitely remembered the difference between michigan and the bay area regarding permissiveness of open drug use when i sparked up a pipe stuffed with smuggled california green (because, as a pot snob, i cannot and will not smoke the skanky-ass twig-heavy "mexican" (i.e. homegrown) brick shit commonly available in the great lakes area) in the middle of the Planet E party in Detroit at the DEMF 02 with tamara p.
we argued with the guys who busted us for a good 10 minutes that we weren't leaving. luckily we had press passes so we just wandered next door over at richie hawtin's tactile/scary for fucked up tweakers party...totally drenched in darkness, with thick ass fog everywhere. you would randomly have your hand run into somebody's face, breast, shoulder, neck, etc.
couldn't be helped.
copping a feel wouldn't be as easy as some pervs might think. (see, i wouldnt' actually DO this, me not being a perv or anything...but thinking about what other dorks who in fact ARE pervs, and what they might do in a situation such as that), because.....your natural instinct is to put your hands out in front of you, to protect your face, your head, your brain, eyes, chest (heart) and shit like that you really need, yo.
so you're not doing a lot of random ass grabbing or cootchie scrumping, especially when, at a party such as richie hawtin's, you're more likely to run into a guy than a girl....guys usually out number women at virtually all social events that involve dancing, drinking alcohol, taking illegal(and legal) drugs, and such sundries.
song now playing: Seefeel's "Time to Find Me" (AFX - aphex twin - slow mix) old old old..
good good good.
minimal minimal minimal.
minimal is good.
so was manimal.
maybe not.
back to what i was saying.
which was.
smoke more, um, green plates.
oh joy of joys.
joy of cake.
hallelujah
hare krishna
durutti column is playing. i really don't know them that well. i probably should know them better than i do.
thing is, there are probably a lot of bands that i SHOULD know more shit about.
but who gives a shit at the end of the day.
it's not like i got a guy i gotta check in with each day before i go to bed, before i punch out for the day, who quizzes me on the latest music gossip, the latest musical genres springing forth, and the hot shit as it were.
i mean, i wish i did, because it would keep me sharp.
you know.
fuck satan.
speaking of...satan.
but first, i should finish my thought i was going to finish, the reason i opened this damn blog thingie back open (procrastinating YET AGAIN, story of my posse life isn't it? aol's steve case resigned today. see, i predicted it just a few days ago. i'm so fucking prescient, i rule the omniscient scene soon, what you think homes?).
the kitty is sleeping on my left arm. she tends to do that when i type.
could also have something to do with the fact i am smoking mary jane and she really enjoys being around when mary jane is around.
but THE kitty is rather large marge.
dammit.
and i need an additional beverage, because of my oral fixation (hey, i beat cigarettes. give me a fucking medal), as well as my addiction to mary jane (hey, you can't win 'em all bitch). make that psychological addiction to mary jane. there exists a difference.
it's true.
not that it matters. fuck you.
i am my own person.
i choose.
choose life.
choose a fucking big television.
see, this is what happens to your brain on plugs.
especially with the hat i'm wearing right now.
see, now that reminds me of my goddamn facial hair that i'm sporting right now.
which still isn't talking about what i planned on talking about...the damn porn lighters of tina's.
but now it's 12:20 am and the kitty is getting heavier on my left arm as i type and i still need that drink of liquid. fuck pig.
back,
fucking kitty is a constant licker of everything.
bullshit.
someday i'll get my shit together. as soon as i fuck myself up more.
good idea don't you think.
the kitty is licking my right hand now.
ok.
first, satan.
rosemary's baby, like so many films from that era (i call it the "olden times"), the scariness seemed forced and stilted, almost uncomfortable.
in fact, i often feel uncomfortable and jostled about conversation-wise when viewing old films. the dialogue just doesn't.....work....right.
seems, forced.
not real.
but even when people from olden times (like back in the 30s and before that)...are interviewed for real, people often come off as really stiff,,,more formal...though it was a new medium,,people weren't saturated like we are today.
we can't ever go back though.
something calming about Miles Davis. as i get older, i realize it takes a certain, specific sort of mindset to even sort of get miles.
and i don't pretend to KNOW miles. fuck that.
only miles knew miles.
but that's a whole other issue.
bitch.
so fuck satan too.
lame.
but funny in a kitschy, gloriously odd way.
mia farrow was odd. cute. strange. very wide-eyed intellectual sorta-hippie wannabe. at least she was then.
john cassavetes' character, her husband, who was obviously much older, i guess was supposed to be a cold and callous hollywood type but i wasn't buying it.
i liked him in that film "tempest" though with molly ringwald and gena something.
so yeah, the porn lighters.
tina's christmas craft.
i like this christmas craft.
a highlight of my holiday season this year, which, proved to me more than anything else, i can have an enjoyable holiday season as long as i concentrate on not trying too hard to do anything.
flying by the seat of my pants as it were, rocked this year, more for new year's than xmas...but it was interesting to NOT be at home on christmas day for the first time in my life.
a stupid turning point in a life, sure, but then again, i'm the only one that really has to give a shit.
and i do give a shit.
so fuck you.
fuck chew.
fu chew.
these pretzels are making me thirsty.
too bad i'm not eating pretzels.
ok this has to end.
i have to do my shit.
like, my jobby job shit.
damn right.
puto.
cake for some.
Friday, January 10, 2003
man i got denied before i was able to get to the starting gates.
dammit.
of course, i fell asleep pretty quickly.
my nascent facial hair itches. that is total bullshit.
i think i'm going back to macworld for one more go-round.
it was fun.
safari, mac's new web browser, is nice....i'm even more excited about itunes 3, idvd, iphoto updates and that new software, Keynote, which i'll have to get. it's a souped up version of powerpoint, for macs.
the new laptops are kinda pointless.
it's a very surreal atmosphere. i have to go back.
rock and rolla.
i was noting earlier today that every single damn day i emerge from the BART tunnel, i never seem to hit it when i have the walk sign. every day.
sucks.
i cry about it often.
one day, it will happen.
sutter station is a winner. even if it is a bit shady. a fine tavern.
and you keep your pants off.
dammit.
of course, i fell asleep pretty quickly.
my nascent facial hair itches. that is total bullshit.
i think i'm going back to macworld for one more go-round.
it was fun.
safari, mac's new web browser, is nice....i'm even more excited about itunes 3, idvd, iphoto updates and that new software, Keynote, which i'll have to get. it's a souped up version of powerpoint, for macs.
the new laptops are kinda pointless.
it's a very surreal atmosphere. i have to go back.
rock and rolla.
i was noting earlier today that every single damn day i emerge from the BART tunnel, i never seem to hit it when i have the walk sign. every day.
sucks.
i cry about it often.
one day, it will happen.
sutter station is a winner. even if it is a bit shady. a fine tavern.
and you keep your pants off.
Thursday, January 09, 2003
all i wanted to do was steal the goddamn mouse pad from microsoft.
i wanted to do one bad deed.
even now, as i sink ever so slowly like quicksand (a childhood fright that has since disicpated).
boards of canada, lush.
korry keeker
melissa as always
the weird bar.
west oakland.
BOC.
i so hate it when i receive super large emails.
at present i have in my inbox of yahoo...
my idiot roommate is leaving.
the oaf is leaving.
now i can emote.
now i can reveal the secrets. that must be revealed.
and they must.
the 40-year old happy hardcore dj moving to LA to find a better life.
and he shall.
people say i'm too hard on the lad. i say fuck those people.
so i'm harsh.
somebody has to be dammit.
there has to be more.
doesn't there?
there has to be more.
beyond this fetid land.
this finite area we live in.
yet the question remains...why is man the chose leader?
how did it come to this?
why does it mean anything?
nothing.
what is the point?
if there is a hell.
i'll see you there.
appropriate that nine inch nails' "heresy" is playing at the moment.
your god is dead. and no one cares.
if there is a hell.
i'll see you there.
your god is dead.
and no one cares.
if there is a hell.
i'll see you there.
this is so 1994-1995.
brings back the memories of yesteryear.
scary to think that they are, in fact, officially yesteryear, doesn't it?
scary yes.
i'm not dead though.
the kitty is here too. she lives for others.
god is dead.
and no one cares.
if there is a hell.
i'll see you there.
(i love the fuzz).
fuzz.
trent does like the treble.
chastise me all you want, i can make you kill angel fires.
as much as i criticize indie kids, i am one in many ways.
but i believe in something more.
see, it's amazing how quickly you can become shortsighted and believe the rest of the countyr believes the same way as the bay area does.
but that's not true.
my the kitty is baked right now.
it looks like that.
i'm listening to bright eyes right now.
aren't i indie?
aren't i?
aren't I?
fuck you and your horseshoe bullshit.
fuck that girl and her high handed bullshit.
that was a coool bar i went to this evening with korry keeker and melissa lane.
korry keeker, k2, triple k, not his real name.
forgot his actual last name.
moved here from bellingham washington.
dammit fuck shoehorn bitch ass mother fucker.
realize you will never see the guy who shined your shoe in detroit metropolitan airport on dec. 23, 2002, ever again.
unless i figure out the whole time portal thing,.
which is something i've been obsessed with virtually my whole life or since i was dead.
anal.
chut up.
donnie darko.
i knew i had a feeling about that movie.
i need to follow my instincts more.
a lot more.
i need to make it happen this year.
this IS the year.
this is it.
i know it.
i just do.
this is the year.
this is the year.
an_l.
_i_l_t.
shove that maker in my mace.
poon.
farmer.
moon.
harmer.
miles davis is playing now.
something funny and odd about macworld expo 2003. i love that it's 2003.
i do.
it's cool.
i am cool for living right now.
i will be envied in years to come.
even if i die before i'm supposed to.
i can always work that time paradox thing and do some shit.
that will be cool.
i can't wait to hang tight with grandma death.
you are not grandma death.
i am carpoccio.
right now i am carpoccio it would seem.
thanks to ms. tina b.
who's getting on the cross for her birthday.
that will be something.
i'm sooo excited about it, which is doubly cool.
i like that i'm not upset or jealous or anything remotely enfant terrible and shit.
put that armor in your duct-taped suitcase bitch ass bitch.
pussy cunt.
open sex talk is so much more fun, more appealing, more real, more heal.
fuck tonight.
that is the plan.fuck tonight.
that is the plan.
fuck tonight.
fuck tonight.
no beat measures needed for this night.
intercourse is the plan.
intercourse is the way.
intercourse is the firm desire of the overwhelming majority of people now present in this head.
drinking cheap $6.99 mixed white wine from trader joe's helps, as well as a slight fantasy about eating chickens goats and hamhocks with mickey mouse and julius erving.
i just now pulled a nasty-ass rubber band out of The Kitty's mouth.
that is fucking disgusting.
now i have cat esophagus juice on my right knuckle.
that is fucking bullshit.
fuck you.
i wanted to do one bad deed.
even now, as i sink ever so slowly like quicksand (a childhood fright that has since disicpated).
boards of canada, lush.
korry keeker
melissa as always
the weird bar.
west oakland.
BOC.
i so hate it when i receive super large emails.
at present i have in my inbox of yahoo...
my idiot roommate is leaving.
the oaf is leaving.
now i can emote.
now i can reveal the secrets. that must be revealed.
and they must.
the 40-year old happy hardcore dj moving to LA to find a better life.
and he shall.
people say i'm too hard on the lad. i say fuck those people.
so i'm harsh.
somebody has to be dammit.
there has to be more.
doesn't there?
there has to be more.
beyond this fetid land.
this finite area we live in.
yet the question remains...why is man the chose leader?
how did it come to this?
why does it mean anything?
nothing.
what is the point?
if there is a hell.
i'll see you there.
appropriate that nine inch nails' "heresy" is playing at the moment.
your god is dead. and no one cares.
if there is a hell.
i'll see you there.
your god is dead.
and no one cares.
if there is a hell.
i'll see you there.
this is so 1994-1995.
brings back the memories of yesteryear.
scary to think that they are, in fact, officially yesteryear, doesn't it?
scary yes.
i'm not dead though.
the kitty is here too. she lives for others.
god is dead.
and no one cares.
if there is a hell.
i'll see you there.
(i love the fuzz).
fuzz.
trent does like the treble.
chastise me all you want, i can make you kill angel fires.
as much as i criticize indie kids, i am one in many ways.
but i believe in something more.
see, it's amazing how quickly you can become shortsighted and believe the rest of the countyr believes the same way as the bay area does.
but that's not true.
my the kitty is baked right now.
it looks like that.
i'm listening to bright eyes right now.
aren't i indie?
aren't i?
aren't I?
fuck you and your horseshoe bullshit.
fuck that girl and her high handed bullshit.
that was a coool bar i went to this evening with korry keeker and melissa lane.
korry keeker, k2, triple k, not his real name.
forgot his actual last name.
moved here from bellingham washington.
dammit fuck shoehorn bitch ass mother fucker.
realize you will never see the guy who shined your shoe in detroit metropolitan airport on dec. 23, 2002, ever again.
unless i figure out the whole time portal thing,.
which is something i've been obsessed with virtually my whole life or since i was dead.
anal.
chut up.
donnie darko.
i knew i had a feeling about that movie.
i need to follow my instincts more.
a lot more.
i need to make it happen this year.
this IS the year.
this is it.
i know it.
i just do.
this is the year.
this is the year.
an_l.
_i_l_t.
shove that maker in my mace.
poon.
farmer.
moon.
harmer.
miles davis is playing now.
something funny and odd about macworld expo 2003. i love that it's 2003.
i do.
it's cool.
i am cool for living right now.
i will be envied in years to come.
even if i die before i'm supposed to.
i can always work that time paradox thing and do some shit.
that will be cool.
i can't wait to hang tight with grandma death.
you are not grandma death.
i am carpoccio.
right now i am carpoccio it would seem.
thanks to ms. tina b.
who's getting on the cross for her birthday.
that will be something.
i'm sooo excited about it, which is doubly cool.
i like that i'm not upset or jealous or anything remotely enfant terrible and shit.
put that armor in your duct-taped suitcase bitch ass bitch.
pussy cunt.
open sex talk is so much more fun, more appealing, more real, more heal.
fuck tonight.
that is the plan.fuck tonight.
that is the plan.
fuck tonight.
fuck tonight.
no beat measures needed for this night.
intercourse is the plan.
intercourse is the way.
intercourse is the firm desire of the overwhelming majority of people now present in this head.
drinking cheap $6.99 mixed white wine from trader joe's helps, as well as a slight fantasy about eating chickens goats and hamhocks with mickey mouse and julius erving.
i just now pulled a nasty-ass rubber band out of The Kitty's mouth.
that is fucking disgusting.
now i have cat esophagus juice on my right knuckle.
that is fucking bullshit.
fuck you.
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