Wednesday, June 30, 2010

As Controversial as Jailbait

You know me...     I don't like to tell the truth straight up...   But you know me...  I'll give you the skinny if you really want to know...


So here it is straight up.  There was a guy at Gritty's who told me that, "Drinking & not smoking is like shitting & not pissing."  I tend to agree with his sentiment for the most part, (only because i love the combinations) but i have to say that drinking and not fucking is at least as good of a combo.

I tire of idle chit chat.  I'm ready to get real with you people ("Who you callin' you people?") and really let you in on the mastermind behind the scenes.

You see there's really nothing to it ~ just a slap on the wrist and all of a sudden you're golden.  Nobody really knows how to deal with that so let me break it down more clearly. 

You gotta know when to lay the smack down, and when to lay the mack down.

It's that easy playa. [Ok, sidenote:  I met the ladies man tonight (as relayed to me from his ex_dodgeball teammate - pretty serious actually).  He was pretty cool, but i didn't see him in action - unfortunate that i don't have a story for him ~ yet.

Nevertheless ---

There were two girls from Russia, and they spoke very little english {this was at Amigo's}.  They were on the deck, and there were many admirers of their assets.

I had met a fellow earlier, his name was probably Mark, but he introduced himself to me as Marcus (this was at Gritty's).  We had hatched a plan to _________ (searching for word...) aquire the Russians, and this plan was set into motion with a swiftness that defied the laws of nature herself.

He met up with me after i made first contact.  It was an easy point.  All i had to do was find an outlet for a cell phone charger (not just any cell phone, a blackberry).  After that, my IN was sealed.  She was American, her name was Erika.  The other names i am not sure of ~ possibly...  Liaya or something?...   IDK... This shit was at the end of my understanding.

Marcus shows up and the plan that we set minutes before is coming to fruition. 

I say, "Hey Marcus! What's up!?"

He sits down and introduces himself to the Russians.  He speaks a little russian, and they like it...  I am talking to Erika at the time, who tells me the story of how she came to be in possession of two Russian girls [just barely 21].

She says...

That she has a friend who found these two girls one day, and he showed them a good time...  until...  He found out that they wouldn't put out, so he passes them onto her, who was looking for roomates at the time anyway so...   It all worked out, he even said that he would cover them if they needed it, but anyway...  Now was the first time that they ever hung out ~ the serious first day of this new deal...  And I'm telling you the truth when I say that these two spoke very little english... Like a miniscule amount at best.

To be continued...

The Statue of Limbo Nation

In essence:  The amount of time you can limbo before you have to fall down.

The "Statue" itself is crumbling into dust as you read this...


There is no recompensense for this loss - it is inevitable.  You must understand the context. 

It is this way with everything.  All that is hard is actually soft and vice versa.  The complexities of the universal constant beleaguers our science with unanswerables, and these questions plague our thoughts with images of everything and nothing all at the same time.

We are all looking for answers, but we must embrace the questions while we still have them, because truth can be very slippery when dealing with the infinite nature and propagation of carnal knowledge.

Change in Perspective: A Habitual Liar and Lover of Beauty

Being in truth, so false that you faulter in your step, floundering along in aesthetics, while ignoring the content.  You are the enemy of the state, and you are my friend, fellow citizen of Limbo Nation.

Let us go out and propagate our knowledge of the carnal in celebration of our bohemianess, and let us not faulter in living true - the ways of our brothers and sisters, and mothers and fathers.

But also, let us not forget the many who have fallen to the science of convention and standardardization.  It is to them that we owe our lives of comfort and safety, and it is to them that we must appeal in order for the dialogue to continue, so that we all may survive free.

Alternate Ending...

Let us go out and propagate our knowledge of the carnal in celebration of our bohemianess, and let us not faulter our step, but instead, follow with determination the precepts of our brothers and sisters.

But also, let us not forget the many who have fallen to the science of convention and standardardization.  To them we must stay solidly devoted to their future liberation.  For us it is a non-negotiable prerequisite to ensure that not one of our lost bretheren is left behind, although the end impact of our effort may indeed leave us wanting...   and crushed. 

For to flirt with the devil is to allow yourself lateral movement into the abyss of moral uncertainty, and ultimately - death of the mind~soul.

Maladies & Melancholy

It's pretty cut and dry.  There's a sadness inside me that grips at my soul and destroys it - on a regular basis.  There's no purpose to it, it's just there all the time, gnawing on my existence, trying to crush me.

Sometimes I think that it's cancer having a love affair with my soul, before it moves in, and takes over my body.  As if cancer was like a demon that preys on the last remnants of a broken heart.

But is my heart really broken?  All i know is that it doesn't work right.  I tell it to work correctly and love all the people in all the right ways, and it just laughs at me and reaks of Cancer's musk.  It feels indiscriminant dischord with itself, and projects its own self-loathing discrimination onto all within shouting distance.

The one, within the one, grasps hold onto the other, in order to make them all whole.  Disjointed and uncleansed in the eyes of the blanket, all is uncovered. 

Too many encryptions there to make any sense to anyone who does not already feel the same in their own hearts, but to know in the head and feel in the heart can make one dizzy in the gut, and empty in the stomach.

(This doesn't even make sense to me anymore - I must just like the sight of my own voice.)

------------pause break------------

What do you call a deer with one eye?

One eye'd deer.

What do you call a deer with no eyes?

(No eye'd deer) No idea

Please save your comments until the end of the lecture...

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Decision [and consequence]

You never know about how things are going to go down, but sometimes you get a feeling like you know for a split second what is  real  and what is  fake.

Determining the difference seems difficult at times, but is totally possible depending on your orientation towards the issue.

Take for example:  The whole oil spill deal.

This whole thing pretty much sucks.  Nobody knows what's gonna happen to the coastline.  Nobody knows how much it's going to cost.  Nobody knows nuthin.  I know even less than most.  I don't watch tv or read newspapers - i don't even google it!  I would like to remain in the darkness for this one ~ depresses me too much. 

Makes me wonder about the future, and how this present that we are constantly opening is going to effect the gift we recieve later on down the line.  Piece of coal in the stocking of our children's children mos def, but maybe not depending on the choices we make now.

I make all the wrong and some of the right.  It helps that i don't have a car because my carbon footprint is low, and that karmas' my epa rating through the roof.  Also i haven't taken out the trash in weeks (because i keep missing the day [wednesday]), so i am reducing landfill increase (albeit at my own destruction) - and i recycle, as in leave cans on the top of the garbage cans in town so the bums can get a nickle and maybe some booze ~ I'm a good person really...  No, really, I am...

Not really, but not too bad - are there gradiations?  Or is everything black and white?  I choose to believe in a gradiated moral compass that allows for flexibility in case i need to choke a bitch every once in a while.

Next point of interest - "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

The begging commences

The begging, yes the begging.  Begging for what exactly?  Let's just say for the moment, a moment - more specifically, a moment of your time...

Do i have you attention? (i dont think so, but nevertheless let's keep going)

Since this is the first entry, (and technically only useful as an introduction into the genre and style of my writing) i will make this short.

I have minimal talent, and i know it.  Like a hot girl who knows she's hot, i am a shitty writer who knows his own limitations and somehow lives within them.  Like a begger in an old refridgerator box, i survive with nothing and like it.  I live in filth proudly, and eat McDonald's cheeseburgers like nobody's buisness (that expression doesn't make sense, but i like it).  I live the life of an idiot, and am variably proud of, and quite often hesitant towards, my self proclaimed idiocy.

I love and hate my life and my friends [as far as hate goes towards my friends, i would like to say that "playa-hate" is a more accurate term to describe how i sometimes feel; as far as love goes to the same item, i would have to say that i love them as one loves skittles or cranberry juice (yeah yeah, that's about right, you know, like right after you brush your teeth)], and I'm pretty sure they feel the same about me, as for my life: I'm quite positive that it hates me half of the time whilst loving me the rest - quite fickle life is in this respect.

And you my lovely reader, you are my one true happiness.  You may yet validate my existence, or perhaps give me the power to become a real boy again, because fakery is my specialty now and i have lost the will to chastize myself against such blatent misuse of divinely inspired bs.

If you understand me at all you will keep reading, if you don't at all then you may continue, but you are mostly an idiot, so i don't need your patronage of this blog.  Go be free and love the world with the glazed over expression of someone not touched by an angel, but actually and more simply just "touched," and live like an agent of darkness keen on the erasure of inteligence through the propagation of celebrity driven reality tv, but remember to tell your friends where you were when you decided to bail out on the human condition...