March 25, 2011
March 24, 2011
March 22, 2011
It's sad when you look yourself up on google and can't find anything. Two other more famous people have your name and one of them died in a tragic car accident in high school. Does that come off as callous? In my defense: I have never killed anything above the level of insect on purpose.And I feel bad about the insects I've killed though roaches are starting to lose their emotional tug.
To be clear, I used to show up on google all the time; back in the day. At some point some asshole with my name started writing computer books, then another started being an artist in San Francisco. The last straw was a high school student in ... Virginia? dying in a motor vehicle accident. Apparently a quiet guy in NC with not a lot going on can't get listed on google anymore. I'm considering committing some sort of crime.
To be clear, I used to show up on google all the time; back in the day. At some point some asshole with my name started writing computer books, then another started being an artist in San Francisco. The last straw was a high school student in ... Virginia? dying in a motor vehicle accident. Apparently a quiet guy in NC with not a lot going on can't get listed on google anymore. I'm considering committing some sort of crime.
Bowling.
Bowling is a performance. I think that people who don't play instruments or act or sing, or whatever, look at bowling as a way to perform. Team sports don't really offer that opportunity to get up in front a group of friends, or whatever, and perform. It's like a little dance, a little finesse, and a little strength. Then you get to act out whatever fate the ball decides. Strike? Jubilation! or maybe humility depending on your relative score to those around you. Near miss? mild dismay or maybe cautious hope. I feel like it's the actor's game. Poker is the next closest thing. Maybe baseball is close when you're batting though it seems to be in the culture of the game to be as non-reactive as possible. Hyper-masculinity frowns upon displays of emotion.
Netflix.
I get that production and distribution companies want to keep the allure of the physical product, but the lack of deleted scenes and outtakes on Netflix streaming and, very recently, Netflix discs is starting to be annoying. The people who want the disc will buy the disc. What brand of jackass is swayed by extras?
March 20, 2011
Resemblance to Statues is Intentional
Sometimes I get the urge to share. For a while I used FACEBROKE.com but then I started to post hilarious things when drunk and had to do damage control afterwards which was always an embarrassing reminder that my social filter was flawed.
So, I guess an unread blog in the vast oceans of unread personal blogs is a better solution. To be clear: I expect to get rich off of this. All of my words are like gold to thirsty people. Drink the gold, people ... drink it up.
I went to the Polvo show at King's Barcade tonight. Pretty good. There was one song ( a new one if you believe the band ) that sounded like it coul've been a J.Giels Band song. The drummer had to borrow a kick drum halfway through the set because he ripped the bass drum head. Pretty hardcore. Wild Wild Geese were alright though I don't get their self-descriptor of J-pop. One song was a blatant slowed-down ripoff of a famous song that if I had a long-term memory I could place. And finally, Free Electric State was pretty good as always. They take the best of 90's "alternative" and make it ... not new, but just as good 15 years later. They actually had the best sounding set as well. I think that has to do with the way sound checks are done. Not to fault Kings, I actually enjoyed every part of the downtown Raleigh club experience including the random Frat and Sorority kids that somehow landed at this show.
June 22, 2008
January 07, 2008
and to that kisse a score
A kiss no matter how small can change lives.
he finished his bottle of wine and went to bed
he finished his bottle of wine and went to bed
January 05, 2008
Grammaphone
It is hard work creating a cd sleeve.
I used: paper (rolled up construction paper which kept rolling up so that cutting it was almost impossible given I have but two hands) and my exacto knife, and shelf laminating self-adhesive plastic type stuff. I have an exacto knife and a soldering iron with an exacto knife attachment. I used the soldering iron because I thought that it got hot enough to burn paper. It does, but not at the end where the knife is. After a few finger burns and having to cut holding the knife from the very end, which is very difficult with the hippy hippy shakes, I decided that the regular exacto knife probably was the better call. But it came out alright. That being said, I made one and needed at least three for tomorrow. bitchbitcthbitch. motherfuckers can deal with a plain cd.
I used: paper (rolled up construction paper which kept rolling up so that cutting it was almost impossible given I have but two hands) and my exacto knife, and shelf laminating self-adhesive plastic type stuff. I have an exacto knife and a soldering iron with an exacto knife attachment. I used the soldering iron because I thought that it got hot enough to burn paper. It does, but not at the end where the knife is. After a few finger burns and having to cut holding the knife from the very end, which is very difficult with the hippy hippy shakes, I decided that the regular exacto knife probably was the better call. But it came out alright. That being said, I made one and needed at least three for tomorrow. bitchbitcthbitch. motherfuckers can deal with a plain cd.
December 28, 2007
The world began just as it is
The failure to adhere to a schedule is to me a quality worth saving. And this coming from someone of german descent. If I get around to something it means that I actually care about it, not just that I care about appearing to be an adult, or organized.
Wu-tang's new album is interesting.
Walk Hard is pretty funny but not the funniest movie ever.
The Sarah Conner Chronicles is confusing in it's timeline.
I have read all of William Gibson's books except his last (not in paperback yet) and have enjoyed them all.
I "finished" my "CD". It is now called Apophenia. Look it up.
I got pretty drunk the other night and made lucas listen to it while i narrated.
Wu-tang's new album is interesting.
Walk Hard is pretty funny but not the funniest movie ever.
The Sarah Conner Chronicles is confusing in it's timeline.
I have read all of William Gibson's books except his last (not in paperback yet) and have enjoyed them all.
I "finished" my "CD". It is now called Apophenia. Look it up.
I got pretty drunk the other night and made lucas listen to it while i narrated.
August 23, 2007
And so it begins
It seems that I have been the victim of an elaborate porn/drugs/spam/scam attack. You leave a little used blog for a year and a half and this is what happens. It's like you can't even trust the internets no more.
Lots has happened in the past 18-24 months. I cut my hair!!! It grew back!! I lost my keys! I moved to Raleigh, then Durham! I lost my fascination with life! I made several half-hearted attempts at health and then one very strong attempt at death. Shit gets strange when you're deranged. That's the truth from a confirmed liar.
This re-re-attempt at writing down my daily travails is due to Tracy Williams of Kinston fame actually caring enough to care if I continued writing. Lord knows I couldn't kick myself in the ass hard enough to make it stick.
I have a somewhat reliable internet connection that I've stolen (wirelessly, god bless the future) from a neighbor that allows me to fool myself into thinking I might do this full time in my free time when I'm not doing anything else.
Today, the weatherman at WRAL (Mike Maze, I actually had to look up his name even though I stare at his always three seconds behind the count mug literally 9 days out of 10) called this the hottest, driest august since records started being kept in the 1880's in Raleigh. It inevitably started raining and the temperature fell by 15 degrees.
A body was found 1 door down from my apartment 2 weeks ago. Apparently, I was home when homeboy was shot. His body was found 2 days later ( I think it was dumped there). I came home from dinner with Chris and Maeve and Pei Wei ( pay way not pee wee) to the street next to my apartment roped off with police rope. Weaker and more yellow than consumer rope. Idin't find out the details till the next day at work from Pam on WRAL. One benefit of working at a tv station is that you start to realize how tenuous our society's hold on itself is.
Anyway, it's late and I'm tired so until next year...this is tunkamerica signing off.
Lots has happened in the past 18-24 months. I cut my hair!!! It grew back!! I lost my keys! I moved to Raleigh, then Durham! I lost my fascination with life! I made several half-hearted attempts at health and then one very strong attempt at death. Shit gets strange when you're deranged. That's the truth from a confirmed liar.
This re-re-attempt at writing down my daily travails is due to Tracy Williams of Kinston fame actually caring enough to care if I continued writing. Lord knows I couldn't kick myself in the ass hard enough to make it stick.
I have a somewhat reliable internet connection that I've stolen (wirelessly, god bless the future) from a neighbor that allows me to fool myself into thinking I might do this full time in my free time when I'm not doing anything else.
Today, the weatherman at WRAL (Mike Maze, I actually had to look up his name even though I stare at his always three seconds behind the count mug literally 9 days out of 10) called this the hottest, driest august since records started being kept in the 1880's in Raleigh. It inevitably started raining and the temperature fell by 15 degrees.
A body was found 1 door down from my apartment 2 weeks ago. Apparently, I was home when homeboy was shot. His body was found 2 days later ( I think it was dumped there). I came home from dinner with Chris and Maeve and Pei Wei ( pay way not pee wee) to the street next to my apartment roped off with police rope. Weaker and more yellow than consumer rope. Idin't find out the details till the next day at work from Pam on WRAL. One benefit of working at a tv station is that you start to realize how tenuous our society's hold on itself is.
Anyway, it's late and I'm tired so until next year...this is tunkamerica signing off.
March 08, 2006
brixton
This is just a placeholder post to get me back into the swing of things since i recently acquired a computer. no truths to be found here, no deep insights. Merely stream of consciousness typing to prove to myself that I still know how.
August 26, 2005
The furthest place from here
Sometimes the closest things get too blurry to see. They get so close and so blurry that you think you can see right through them and everything else is tinted with their colors.
There's a story somewhere about a man? who could project his thoughts into others' minds. That isn't to say that he could read their thoughts or even control them, just that he could put his own in among theirs. They might be lost in thought, walking. Thinking of how much work they had to do, how far behind they were on some pointless project, as they passed him on the street head down. He might, should the mood strike him, look at them and slip a tought of a daisy opening up on a spring morning among the papers and numbers and voices. Just for a second their stride might break. They might look up from their thoughts and see that the sun was shining here, too. They might notice the man, they might not. It didn't really matter to either or to either of their stories.
In Switzerland there's a town called Gryon. It's on the side of a mountain and surrounded by vineyards. There is no bank in Gryon and the grocery store is closed after five and on Sundays. It's unbelievably beautiful and the farmers there magic mushrooms on sandwiches when they're in season. When you visit someone you bring a bottle of wine, and they repay the deed with a bottle of their own. To recork a bottle of wine is considered an insult, implying that you want your guests to leave early. Farmers can get stickers to put on modified cars which allows them to drive impaired. If you see one of these cars, modified to not go over 35 km/hr you better get out of the way. The farmer may be drunk, blind, or on mushrooms.
There's a story somewhere about a man? who could project his thoughts into others' minds. That isn't to say that he could read their thoughts or even control them, just that he could put his own in among theirs. They might be lost in thought, walking. Thinking of how much work they had to do, how far behind they were on some pointless project, as they passed him on the street head down. He might, should the mood strike him, look at them and slip a tought of a daisy opening up on a spring morning among the papers and numbers and voices. Just for a second their stride might break. They might look up from their thoughts and see that the sun was shining here, too. They might notice the man, they might not. It didn't really matter to either or to either of their stories.
In Switzerland there's a town called Gryon. It's on the side of a mountain and surrounded by vineyards. There is no bank in Gryon and the grocery store is closed after five and on Sundays. It's unbelievably beautiful and the farmers there magic mushrooms on sandwiches when they're in season. When you visit someone you bring a bottle of wine, and they repay the deed with a bottle of their own. To recork a bottle of wine is considered an insult, implying that you want your guests to leave early. Farmers can get stickers to put on modified cars which allows them to drive impaired. If you see one of these cars, modified to not go over 35 km/hr you better get out of the way. The farmer may be drunk, blind, or on mushrooms.
May 20, 2005
I'm really bad at this.
I am. At this blogging thing. Maybe if I had a computer of my own... Um. I guess I don't like talking into a void.
The octobers are playing in raleigh next week. I move out of my house in a month or two to travel the lonely highways of this mean, mad world. That or live with the parents again.
I now own a bike. Which I ride sometimes. still mostly smoke free. not beer free.
movie party next friday for cherrae's movement to Burbank, home of Johnny Carson's ghost. I want to move to LA. or anywhere.
The octobers are playing in raleigh next week. I move out of my house in a month or two to travel the lonely highways of this mean, mad world. That or live with the parents again.
I now own a bike. Which I ride sometimes. still mostly smoke free. not beer free.
movie party next friday for cherrae's movement to Burbank, home of Johnny Carson's ghost. I want to move to LA. or anywhere.
December 01, 2004
Random word generator poetry
the sirens with their floppy thorax
exiled on the waning nylon
mouthed witchcraft with their torchlight chanting
oxides trickled down the edges
as the sailors searched the gunmen sleeping
charmed befriended fettered with crosshairs
feathery injections slipping down the funnel's facing
kissing polymers enrage the hunger
syncopated feasting romance
exiled on the waning nylon
mouthed witchcraft with their torchlight chanting
oxides trickled down the edges
as the sailors searched the gunmen sleeping
charmed befriended fettered with crosshairs
feathery injections slipping down the funnel's facing
kissing polymers enrage the hunger
syncopated feasting romance
bi-annual posting party a huge failure
...we join our hero at 4:20 in the AM, a time which in earlier years held a little meaning for him but which now just means five more hours till he goes home and sleeps. Nothing much has changed in the last few months. He still doesn't smoke. He hasn't had much fun. He's gotten drunk a few times and gone out once or twice. All of his BIG PLANS have kind of withered away with the waning sunlight. Not that he ever sees the sunlight, anyway. But even a nocturnal freak kind feel the abscence of the sun.
Our hero told his roommate, the only person who really paid any attention to him at all, that he didn't feel comfortable with the relationship the two had. He felt like her feelings for him were much stronger than his would ever be. Within a week she has a new guy. A guy that tried to hook up with her while both were coked out their minds while our hero was in the other room. Shows how much our hero knows. Now, he feels kind of cheated. Not because he's jealous. Just because he wishes she'd felt a little worse for a little longer, you know? Pretty sick. But, REALLY grossly human. Human like the type of humanity our hero usually disparages as weakness in others.
Anyway...he's started looking for other employment...because he can't fucking stand being alone like this for much longer. The lack of sleep is making blue-purple sacks under his eyes. Pouches of damaged bruised flesh crowned by bloodshot orbs. Not the best look for making new friends.
The sad part of the job search is that he has no clue what he wants to do. The only thing that's stood out is teaching English in Japan. How sad it is that he feels he must leave one of "the most priveledged countries in the world" just to progress. He has to leave his home and his friends to discover who he is or could be. Will our hero make the plunge? Will he continue on in his current non-path until the abyss swallows his whole personality? Will he start smoking again? Will he take one fuxing risk? Stay tuned!
Our hero told his roommate, the only person who really paid any attention to him at all, that he didn't feel comfortable with the relationship the two had. He felt like her feelings for him were much stronger than his would ever be. Within a week she has a new guy. A guy that tried to hook up with her while both were coked out their minds while our hero was in the other room. Shows how much our hero knows. Now, he feels kind of cheated. Not because he's jealous. Just because he wishes she'd felt a little worse for a little longer, you know? Pretty sick. But, REALLY grossly human. Human like the type of humanity our hero usually disparages as weakness in others.
Anyway...he's started looking for other employment...because he can't fucking stand being alone like this for much longer. The lack of sleep is making blue-purple sacks under his eyes. Pouches of damaged bruised flesh crowned by bloodshot orbs. Not the best look for making new friends.
The sad part of the job search is that he has no clue what he wants to do. The only thing that's stood out is teaching English in Japan. How sad it is that he feels he must leave one of "the most priveledged countries in the world" just to progress. He has to leave his home and his friends to discover who he is or could be. Will our hero make the plunge? Will he continue on in his current non-path until the abyss swallows his whole personality? Will he start smoking again? Will he take one fuxing risk? Stay tuned!
September 28, 2004
dirty
I must be really bored tonight. This is my third post. I just read this and then read some stuff by some of her friends, also in bangkok and it suddenly hit me how boring my life is and how boring it's making me. Sometimes it's hard to see from the inside. It takes a ho (seriously, check it out...this girl likes the dick and likes to talk about it) from bangkok to show what some people's (real or imagined it's hard to tell) lives are like. And it wouldn't be all that impossible to do. I just feel like I've already resigned myself to mediocrity at 25. Maybe its just Family Matters and the promise of another episode once this one is over that's making me depressed or restless or however it is that I feel.
In other news, I am fostering a deep, deep hatred for Neil Boortz. The worst part about him is that he even lies about what he believes. He keeps saying he's a libertarian and hates the republicans just a tiny bit less than the democrats; but I've been listening to his show for weeks now and he hasn't said one thing (that I've heard) about the libertarian party except when he uses it to prove he's not biased toward conservatives. Oh, and he's either a great actor/manipulator or he's a moron and, on some issues, certifiably insane. But, that's my liberal bias and I guess this is a medium so technically I'm part of the elitist liberal media establishment and this isn't the page for politics anyway.
In other news, I am fostering a deep, deep hatred for Neil Boortz. The worst part about him is that he even lies about what he believes. He keeps saying he's a libertarian and hates the republicans just a tiny bit less than the democrats; but I've been listening to his show for weeks now and he hasn't said one thing (that I've heard) about the libertarian party except when he uses it to prove he's not biased toward conservatives. Oh, and he's either a great actor/manipulator or he's a moron and, on some issues, certifiably insane. But, that's my liberal bias and I guess this is a medium so technically I'm part of the elitist liberal media establishment and this isn't the page for politics anyway.
My Good Weekend
I slept Friday night.
I was bored on Saturday and Margaret was in Virginia at her Aunt's wedding so I went driving around with a list of things to do. Things like to get my hair cut, go to Goodwill and get some "new" clothes, and look at prices of outdoor furniture for our Halloween party. Things like that. Basically it was just so I didn't sit at the house and play Xbox football all day (I'm to the 2012 season in less than a week).
The thing is, the only thing on my list I got done was to get some coffee. I also went to Target and bought some 10 lb ankle weights, which I have been wearing since Saturday, and a jump rope. I drank my coffee in the car listening to CarTalk and decided to drive to High Point to see if Lucas was home since his phone had been "turned off" the last 2 times I had tried to get in touch with him. So I went to High Point and Beaver and Beaver were both there along with Flippy and Linc's new "friend" from Raleigh. There was talk of going to the World Beer Festival in Durham and Linc and his friend actually did go. Flippy left to go ride with her friend which left Lucas and I to have a 2 man Beer Festivus of our own. Which we happily did.
It was an afternoon (and night) of drinking, highlow-redblack, and politicking (if politicking means talking politics and basically agreeing with each other... except for Lucas's feeling that voting didn't really matter; which may be true, but is such a clichéd attitude of the youth of the last few generations that I hate to fall into it). [I just looked up politicking and that is what it means, basically].
Woke up fairly early on Sunday and basically stayed awake till Monday afternoon. When I woke up tonight my eyes were dry as shit and bright red. I really don't think I'll be able to work nights for too much longer. But I am kind of nervous that I won't be able to get a normal job and wake up in the daytime anymore. Like being diurnal is a skill that I've lost. I was never very good at it, but its been almost a year since I started working third shift.
And with that I leave you.
I was bored on Saturday and Margaret was in Virginia at her Aunt's wedding so I went driving around with a list of things to do. Things like to get my hair cut, go to Goodwill and get some "new" clothes, and look at prices of outdoor furniture for our Halloween party. Things like that. Basically it was just so I didn't sit at the house and play Xbox football all day (I'm to the 2012 season in less than a week).
The thing is, the only thing on my list I got done was to get some coffee. I also went to Target and bought some 10 lb ankle weights, which I have been wearing since Saturday, and a jump rope. I drank my coffee in the car listening to CarTalk and decided to drive to High Point to see if Lucas was home since his phone had been "turned off" the last 2 times I had tried to get in touch with him. So I went to High Point and Beaver and Beaver were both there along with Flippy and Linc's new "friend" from Raleigh. There was talk of going to the World Beer Festival in Durham and Linc and his friend actually did go. Flippy left to go ride with her friend which left Lucas and I to have a 2 man Beer Festivus of our own. Which we happily did.
It was an afternoon (and night) of drinking, highlow-redblack, and politicking (if politicking means talking politics and basically agreeing with each other... except for Lucas's feeling that voting didn't really matter; which may be true, but is such a clichéd attitude of the youth of the last few generations that I hate to fall into it). [I just looked up politicking and that is what it means, basically].
Woke up fairly early on Sunday and basically stayed awake till Monday afternoon. When I woke up tonight my eyes were dry as shit and bright red. I really don't think I'll be able to work nights for too much longer. But I am kind of nervous that I won't be able to get a normal job and wake up in the daytime anymore. Like being diurnal is a skill that I've lost. I was never very good at it, but its been almost a year since I started working third shift.
And with that I leave you.
Bored word play
I felt the slip a second sooner than expected
and since the feeling's never left me
I kind of feel like I'm just floating
in the darkness in the water
alone not thinking,
arrested resting.
Just waiting till the sinking starts.
Retarded;
tarnished controlling brothers
holding wrists and twisting, pinching
fists hit with too much force,
slightly torn flesh is what resulted.
Reddened, bluish, yellowed, blackened:
these arms are rainbows arcing
twisted rays almost escaping.
My tips and toes so close to heaven.
and since the feeling's never left me
I kind of feel like I'm just floating
in the darkness in the water
alone not thinking,
arrested resting.
Just waiting till the sinking starts.
Retarded;
tarnished controlling brothers
holding wrists and twisting, pinching
fists hit with too much force,
slightly torn flesh is what resulted.
Reddened, bluish, yellowed, blackened:
these arms are rainbows arcing
twisted rays almost escaping.
My tips and toes so close to heaven.
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