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Post by Calavera Diablos on Dec 6, 2004 3:17:32 GMT -5
You can touch me if you want [Dec. 4th, 2004|07:27 pm] [ Current Mood | depressed ] [ Current Music | what's your take on casavettes?- le tigre ]
GAH!! I hate this. Every month I start getting all twitchy, yet tired and angry and sexually frustrated. Bad, bad dog. Everything seems to take on some kind of Freudian erotic twist and it's really not appropriate. I would blame this on hormones, but I seeing as I'm reaching the big 2-0 (so old, someone give me a colostomy bag), maybe that can't be used as an excuse. Moony and I watched La Blue Girl at Lily's house, which was too hilarious for words. The hentai dvd did not turn me on in any way whatsoever (I mean, really, tentacles?) which I found strange since looking at a pimento loaf could probably be taken as something arousing when I get like this (I have yet to test this theory on pimento loaves and I have no desire to try). Moony kept trying to understand the storyline, which was an exercise in futility at most since the damn thing made NO SENSE WHATSOEVER and the dubbed voices caused seizures. When the main girl's ninja friend turned into this humongous green demon with teeth laden genitalia, I almost ran screaming from the room. It was still very funny and very quotable. How would you like to hear someone say "Subccumb to my amorous powers!" or "How dare you swallow my member?!" in bed? *snort* If you were drinking something, I sincerely apologize for your computer monitor, dear reader. Prongs is mad in general, but somehow I made it worse. Ergh. I guess I should go back to ignoring her, then. Lily said that she abhors physical contact for the time being. I rested my hand on her shoulder for the first time and she shot me this murderous look, like I was some sort of rapist molster person. This pisses me off, considered how fucking nice I've been trying to be for her and yet, nothing I do is ever good enough. I guess I have to practically grovel at her damn feet and just keep my mouth shut and allow her dour mood and biting comments to infect me with self loathing. Got my solstice shopping done already since I fucking hate shopping and mall slowly eats away at my sanity. I almost stepped on 5 children today and nearly got bowled over by thier lumbering parents who followed. I won't even bring up the strollers. Or the evil old women who elbowed me. Went to Rage with Moony and got mistaken for a wanton, 12 year old boy in dire need of a sugar daddy all night. I can never win. Sunny (who is gay) shotgunned me adios motherfukers, which was bad, because I ended up trying to get my mack on with him because apparently my usually strictly female-lovin' only hormones became that desperate. It's his fault for wearing lipstick and making out with me. And being girly looking. I guess part of me wanted to believe he was a girl and part of him wanted to believe I really was a guy. Didn't stop him from pulling my oxford shirt open on the dance floor. Or pushing me against the wall as I vaguely remembered being afraid of the security guard walking past us. The reality of the situation seemed to sober me up more than the water Moony forced me to drink (I think the oddly sudden realization that I didn't have a dick did the same for Sunny). I don't think I can ever go back now, knowing that some hundred people have seen me in such an embarassing state of mind. I'm hoping one day I'll be able to laugh and not close my eyes and resist the urge to stick my head in the garbage disposal. So, after making a complete arse out of myself and apologizing, I sobered up enough to dance, then took Moony home. Oh, and I met a few guys who worked at P.F. Chang's (which I haven't ever eaten at since the last time I went there, it was that bad) and the Vietnamese/Chinese waiter called me "dirty" and "exotic" after I told him I was Korean. As if I didn't feel dirty enough, thanks so much, you asshole. I saw Fuller at the mall while I was shopping and we spent a good 10 mintues together before he had to go to work. He seems to think I have some massive hard-on for shopping, but the only massive thing I get out of it is a headache. And people cooties.
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Post by Calavera Diablos on Dec 8, 2004 3:41:12 GMT -5
me = worst space marine EVER[ Current Mood | geeky ] [ Current Music | SaGa Frontier II battle theme ] Talked with Ben about the Star Wars books, LARPing, and the Renaissance Faire at school awhile ago. He thinks I'm somehow geekier than him, but I'm not the one playing Battle Tournaments with souped up toy cars. Ok, I admit, I thought that was kinda cool. Just when I thought I felt better, the phelgm goblin attacked me again. I accidentally hocked a loogie too short of it's target, but that's ok. I felt all nasty and tired, all I wanted to do was sleep. My parents pretty much killed my plans. After chores, I stuffed about 7 Halls throat lozenges into my pockets and went off to see Moony. I met Loren there too, so we went out for food and ended up hitting the PC Cafe. Just when I had thought my week couldn't get any geekier. I was immersed in the Nerd Hovel of blacklight doom (Ooh, Counterstrike!) with Moony and Loren for 2 hours. I watched M and L play a few deathmatch rounds on Doom 3 (!!), then decided to play by myself as they tackled a Star Wars game. Damn that game is awesome. It makes me want to throw away my Mac laptop in shame and buy the latest PC HD and a huge flatscreen display. Well, killing stuff seemed to be my expertise since it took me more than 5 minutes to complete the easiest objective in the game (Report to Sarge). First, I got freaked out by the Sentry Droid, so I had to gawk at it. Then, I played with my PDA too much and got lost in the base. I circled the Infirmary like 3 times before I realized I hadn't noticed the door that read "Marine HQ" right next to the rude guy on the comm. system. Yeah, so Sarge was kinda pissed at me. Thank god the Sentry droid led me to the airlock system leading to the old Comm. network or else I'd have never gotten past the first level. Of course, after talking to all the disenchanted scientists and engineers, I couldn't figure out how to get outside the airlock (use the pda and click on the screen, duh), then I spent so much time checking out the scenery that I ran out of oxygen and nearly choked to death on the surface of Mars. Score fifty points for me! Thank god the game went back to killing stuff, my brain had just gotten re-adjusted to SNES graphics so I was getting horrendously lost in my lush, 3-d pixelated world. Oh, this was beautiful... After I found the scientist I was supposed to bring back to HQ and all hell (literally!) broke loose, I couldn't figure out why the fool wasn't following me in fear back to the base (I had a gun, he had nothing). Oh, whoops, he was turned into a zombie after having his soul eaten! I guess he wasn't THAT important to the storyline. The graphic were practically seamless and the audio... oh my lord. It doesn't help matters when your radio picks up on all of your former team members being systematically killed as you're creeping through the now powerless base. No flashlights on the guns! You have to use it and put your gun away, because you know, the flashlight requires intense concentration and two hands. Whatever. The Doom creators just want more reasons for you to piss yourself as you're strolling merrily along in complete darkness and random body parts. The random screaming got my adrenaline up pretty quickly. After I died (cornered by two Imps and a marine Zombie w/ a shotgun), Loren took over and I pretty much handled all the dirty work for him. I manned the headphones, directed him, gave away the locations of the monsters and gave him the short versions of the audio files you get from other people's pdas. We made a good team. I'm going to have to get a membership to this PC Club.
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Post by Calavera Diablos on Dec 21, 2004 4:07:41 GMT -5
Sleep is very serious. [Dec. 18th, 2004|09:15 am] [ Current Mood | artistic ]
That's all I seem to do lately, now that school is out. I did get a lap dance last night at Ozz, which was highly entertaining, yet scary at the same time since the female stripper had me hold onto her hair with both hands as she rocked the seat back and forth with her violent grinding. I am set, I consider that my xmas bonus. Damn the neighbors for giving us buckets of cookies. I'm glad that I don't hate myself for loving food (it's good, dammit), but I definitely need to get my ass back to the gym and tone up. Turn my flabby artist arms into limbs capable of carrying more than a week's worth of food garbage. To quote Ben's t-shirt: "I may not be very smart, but I can lift heavy things." Working on a short comic idea for Tim Fish's "Young Bottoms in Love" (an amalgam of gay web comics), I hope he'll accept the submission. ----------- Sick, sad world [Dec. 14th, 2004|06:21 pm] [ Current Mood | aggravated ]
I made the mistake of actually getting into a discussion *arguement* with people on proboards about homosexuality. Many people hid behind the bible (filled with so many things I could easily call them on), one guy even still went by the idea that homosexuality was a mental disorder! So, I gave my two cents... People of all different religious creeds have twisted thier diety's words to suit thier desires. Personally, I have no problems with religion since I believe it enriches people's lives. That and people are entitled to thier own opinions. However, I find it very cowardly when people resort to using thier religion to shun another group due to thier own fears. Mass genocide in the name of god, anyone? To those of you who find homosexuality disgusting, what is disgusting about it? It's love. Isn't love a pure and noble emotion? Obviously gay couples can't have children, but they could adopt or use artificial insemnation. Someone said that they felt sorry for a child adopted by gay parents because they'd be teased and abused. Well, that's not the gay couple's fault that thier kid is being teased. It's other people's fault for being so closed minded. I'm Korean and I was adopted by caucasian parents. I got teased because I was different than my parents, but in this reguard it was race. So, could I say it's not my fault my parents were white? Could I blame them for putting me in that situation? Well, as you can see, I'm not traumatized. Interesting fact, back then my parents were thought to be crazy since they didn't mind adopting a child of a different skin color. Kids are going to get teased for any reason, you can't avoid anyone from being hurt (especially at that young of an age, when people are basically unmatched in thier cruelty). Straight people are straight, obviously they won't be interested in the same sex for whatever thier reasons are. I'm happy that the gay community has many straight allies, but it also is really dissapointing to hear people say "I support gays, but I'm not one because the thought of gay sex disgusts me." That's pretty much like saying "I support african americans, but thank god I'm white because blacks are dirty." Are some straight allies afraid that if they say "I support gays." they will immediately be thought of as gay? Why is that so offensive? And why the hell is it such a big stinking deal who people love and sleep with? What is it about change or people who are different than the social norm that seems to frighten the crap out those of you who are against homosexuality? Oh and to whoever it was that expressed disgust at the "Should they wed?" banner, what's so offensive about two men with thier arms around each other? Straight male friends do the same thing. You act as though you've just been forced against your will to watch anal penetration. Of course no one responded to me at all, I guess they were intimidated by my big words and handle on logic and common sense. Oh, then the poll was locked up and the admins refused to give my friends and I a reason as to why it was locked because they locked our question thread up too! Fucking bigoted assholes. These fuckheads don't seem to understadn that we have gay pride parades BECAUSE we are hated and no one allows us to be who we are. One guys also said it was "unfair" to compare the plight of the gay community to races who've been discriminated against. African americans used to be thought of as "against nature" or some other crap they've been applying to gays. URGH, I wish people would just stop being so afraid of things that are different and catch up with the 21rst century already. --------------- *asphyxiates* [Dec. 13th, 2004|03:28 pm] [ Current Mood | crazy ]
OH MY GOD. My cousin Matthew's wife, Susan, is expecting a baby. I'm going to be a... great cousin? Second cousin? Whatever. This is really amazing.
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Post by Calavera Diablos on Jan 11, 2005 1:23:29 GMT -5
I would sit here and re-post some of my LJ entries about winter hols and the troubles of being 15 minutes late for a five hour long job orientation for Ralph's grocery store but those things just seem to trivial to bitch about now. I had the veritable Hiroshima bomb dropped on me, emotionally today and a carton of cigarettes later (ha ha, my resolution already foiled), some half assed attempts at crying hard and reminding myself not to touch alcohol ever again unless it's wine offered to me by my parents no less, I still can't be mature about this at all. At least I'm not passed out on Wyld's couch right now smelling like Richard Downey Jr., so I guess that's a positive note, even though, at this moment, I just want to drink myself into oblivion and watch movies with the Pedro family and not have to deal with reality ever again. Good News, I got accepted to Otis College of Art and Design. I start in two weeks, enrolled in the Foundation Course for two terms. I can look foward to that. Mom took me out today to help me buy supplies, then we went out for lunch. It always starts out innocently enough.
Apparently there are alot of things I didn't know about my father. He had a traumatic childhood because his father was an alcoholic. I don't know all the details, but it was obviously pretty fucking bad. Ever since he's shut himself off emotionally as a defense mechanism. As a result, my mom and dad can't have a husband-wife type relationship. All those times he told me he was going to sleep studies about his snoring and mom moved into the guest house because his snoring was too loud, that was all just a cover for him going to therapy. They aren't getting a divorce. Mom says that they've known each other for thirty years and that they're best friends and business partners, but they just... won't ever have what En's described as green love, I guess. Mom says it'll be okay because she's been trying to help change things with dad for years and didn't know how to do it and now they can both be happy (not that they weren't, but in different ways) because Dad's working his emotional stuff out and now mom can start living her own life. I feel like utter shit. Like after grandma died, mom told me that grandma actually hated us and she always bitched out mom and made her feel like utter shit. I never knew that until then. My mom's always had to take care of people and she's never really gotten to have her own life. She was the one stuck with grandma, the one who had to take care of her siblings since grandma was mentally unstable, the one who had to take care of Stuart and his brother when they were suicidal and stopped taking their meds, she had to take care of dad's fragile emotional state, mine as well and my brother's. I can't help feeling like I held her back somehow from having a happy life and I don't want her to... look at me and see a part of her life she regretted going through with. I just want her and dad to be okay but at the same time, I don't WANT things to be FUCKING different, but they already have and now nothing's ever going to be the same again. I told mom how I felt and she said that Sean and I were the reasons she could keep going on and that without us, she would have been in a bad place, but I still feel really selfish and guilty that for most of my teen life, I've been ungrateful and a fucking terrible daughter to them both. I don't know how to deal with this, I just want things to be okay again and now I can;t stop FUCKING crying. I thought everything was really good for us, I got my shit together since I was making things harder for them and myself, I thought I had it all figured out, now I feel as though I just walked right off a cliff and there are no roots or protruding rocks to grab onto. I've never felt so unsure of everything, I don't know what to feel or do and for the first time in my life I'm fucking scared of the future. I know it's can't be bad, I mean, it's good and I'm happy that mom and dad can move on with stuff, but fuck... I don't know, I'm too worked up to think or express myself clearly. I know dad and mom love me, I never had to question it, that's not the problem, I just don't know how to handle this maybe because I don't have all the details or something, I don't know, it's just... not processing correctly. On one side, it's good for them, on the other side, I still feel shitty and I don't know if that's justified and what I should do to deal with it. I just don't fucking know.
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Post by Calavera Diablos on Jan 13, 2005 0:36:04 GMT -5
Orientation. I was taken aback by how young and good looking my classmates were. I am like a happy robot. Smile, nod, laugh, make witty quips when all I really want to do is bash your pretty face into your pretty skull and slam your happy, smiling face into the happy pavement because I want you to hurt just as much as I'm hurting inside and feel just as lost and empty as I do. I can't cry, yet I seem to be giving off "mentally deranged" vibes by the end of the night even though I'm being deceptively cheerful.
When everything's over (the thing lasted from 9am to 6pm), Mom and I get into the car. I asked her why she and dad couldn't have told Sean and I the truth together. Dad doesn't even know my mother told me anything. And here I was worrying about him knowing that I know. I wanted to tell him I was ok with it and that I love him no matter what but couldn't because I thought if I started crying in front of him, he'd feel bad. I'm angry that she never told me these things and she never talked to me about them and she just waited and built up our life like everything was fine until they finally hit rock bottom. It really sucks to know your family wasn't so happy and normal afterall. It's alot like a shiny red apple, seemingly flawless until you cut it open to discover the worms and brown spots; slowly rotting away from the inside. I'm not mad at what happened. I think this wll benefit them both, it's what the need to be happy for once. That doesn't stop it from being a really shitty situation to go through. I'm mad because I want to help her now, I wish I could have been able to help her back then before things got so bad, but she wouldn't talk to me about it even though she was miserable. Mom says parents need to nurture and protect, then she says she regrets bringing it up at all wth me. I can't even get any leeway to feel shitty in front of my mother. Like I somehow wouldn't have been sad and upset in a parallel universe after she told me this shit. She tells me I'm OBSESSING. How am I supposed to get ready for "changes"in the house when I barely have half the details of what's going on? She treats me like a child, yet expects me to act like an adult. You want me to deal, to cope with this effectively? Ok, stop trying to protect me by LYING and PRETENDING everything is so fucking hunky dory, how's that for a start? These changes should apparently be no big deal for us. I suppose that's why she prepared so much and still hasn't gotten the nerve to crush Sean next.
This is coming out all wrong. I'm being mature about this and I want to stay positive that things will work out and they may still have a chance in the end and if it doesn't happen, then that's ok, as long as they're both happy and get what they need. But at the same time, it's really shitty to be going through this and feeling this way and not being able to vent somewhere for fear of making my family and friends feel uncomfortable. Lord knows I can't curl up and sob until I vomit at Otis (damn pride). Holding in tears and the urge to hit things is like trying to ignore a really hard erection, it starts hurting after long periods of neglect.
Get home and all eat together, as a "family", keep pretending everything's fine. And I pretend too, pretend that time has passed and Dad didn't need therapy anyway and he and mom are willing to give that crazy thing called love a second chance and I see him smile, really genuinely smile for the first time in years as I tell him all about how boring and long orientation was today. We have a sickenly happy 50's ending where the camera pans backwards from the Kitchen window as we all laugh at something really funny.
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Post by Calavera Diablos on Jan 21, 2005 5:23:06 GMT -5
School, work, work, school, work. I've engaged in a long running exercise in ignoring stuff. I hate my job becaue I have five managers who get on my ass about the slightest thing (omg, I'm not wearing black pants TRAVESTY) or maybe I took one milisecond too long to do a price check on the Poopin' Bran Flakes for centurion number five who can't lift heavy stuff, yet bought enough food to feed eight third world countries and expects me to DROP EVERYTHING and help them to their car with their 8 million paper bags full of individual items they cannot lift themselves.
School is good. Challenging and fun. Making friends sorta, but mostly been running on auto-pilot. I forget things easily, zone out, occassionally make someone laugh by insulting myself then forget what I'm talking about. I'm really pissed off because Marla is abusing her grandma's death for everything it's worth right now. She fucking hated her, now that she's dead she's all "omg, so sorrowful, I am SO depressed wah I lost someone SO close to me." then accuses me of not having the time to help HER with HER PROBLEMS and that I'm a BAD PERSON and I have ABANDONED her (in her most DIRE HOUR OF NEED!). Lawdy, I've tried helping her just by being a good listener and apparently that's not good enough. Like these ancient, wrinkly prunes I am a slave to at the grocery store, I have no life or purpose than to serve her and make sure she feels all warm and fuzzy inside again. Well, fuck THAT. You know, cause I dont have my own problems or a LIFE even. Hey, maybe I should quit school altogether and be her personal THERAPIST for the rest of my life, how does that sound? FUCK YOU, I've been nice and NOW MY PARENTS ARE FUCKING SPLITTING UP YOU BITCH. I need some time to maybe sort my own shit out? Unlike you, I actually care about them despite the fact that they're still alive. Shocker! I haven't been online much because I have 6 hour art classes at school, then up to 9 hours of work right afterwards with barely enough time to finish 3 hours of homework, let alone sleep. Not all of us can dick around with maybe a schedule of OMG TOO MANY (3) classes and Theater monolouges.
Scratch work off though. I just got fired for telling Rick the Prick (asshole manager number 1) to suck my fat, throbbing cock after he tried to give me someone else's 3 hour cart duty after HE let her go home early for NO APPARENT REASON. I don't get paid to work overtime, so why the shit should I sacrifice MY time to do homework and maybe eat something? he's been giving me shit since day one and it finally became too much. tomorrow is a my last day and I still have to work for five hours. I need the money, so guess I'll do it.
My therapist thinks a main problem is that I can't be unhappy. I can't release and just maybe have a good cry, then recognize and detatch myself because I have to keep this stupid secret. Mom still hasn't told dad or sean about anything and I can't even fucking flipout or maybe be sad about it without her getting all upset, so the more I have to keep it in, the worse it gets. It's like an infection or gangrene (whee gangrene!) exceptmy limbs won't fall off, just maybe some of my more charming personality traits (HAR like I had any). Well, I'm certainly in the angry stage, yet I've already experienced the numb stage, so I have no idea which one is next since I didn't go in order of the grief coping scale thingy (shrinks are fucking nutters). I think I royally freaked her out by finally bringing up my aversion to physical contact in the sexual sense. I am ashamed of having female reproductive organs. That's right, I'm a BIG FUCKING FREAK. Upgrade 50 points and tack on 5 more years of therapy for me.
I am trying to start a few clubs on campus, trying to be more social n stuff. I've only really connected with a fellow Void artist, JJ, which is so pathetic for me since my best relations (and some worst too, just to be even steven) have started from the internet and not the people directly around me who are also equally interesting. I am such a pussy. Whatever, I like JJ and she likes me and we can plot out our comics together and giggle n shit. Yay.
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Post by Calavera Diablos on Feb 6, 2005 6:40:49 GMT -5
Shari, Juan and I went to Rage because we wanted to dance and have some fun. And maybe get laid, but only Juan seemed to luck out in that department. It's a really pointless thing to want, but sex seems to take you to a different place where nothing else matters but the moment. Physical contact. It's almost like an odd sort of therapy (OH SEXUAL HEALING YOW!). On the way back home, these two cars were parked in the pedestrian crosswalk and weren't going on the green light. I hung back, trying to figure wtf they were doing and making sure it was safe to go, then the second driver motioned for me to go, waving her arm outside her window. As I slowly went foward, I was apprehensive since the first car seemed to have her left blinker on and knowing my luck would decide to get back in her lane once I went. The cars behind me were impatient and wanted to get home, I couldnt blame them. As I finally neared the first car (completely blocking my veiw of the pedestrians), I noticed the hazard lights were on, so I felt better. Had to wait for the light to turn green again (the people in back of me weren't too happy about that), then as I was making my turn, I had to wait for some of the club bunnies to cross for maybe 5 seconds. As I'm getting ready to go again, the front car suddenly slams into the side of mine, making a sickening crunch sound. I am pissed by this point, first the cunt violated traffic laws, then she somehow didn't notice my goddamn car 2-3 feet in front of her? I do my usual, charming angry yell, call the other driver a stupid cunt while the twinks gasped and watched on. I pull over to the side, my tires screeching against the pavement and make sure she follows and does the same. I get out, yell at Shari to stay with my car and as Juan and I approach the BMW who hit me, the bitch takes off. Shocked, flustered and in a fit of near homicidal rage, I am too preoccupied trying to find something to throw into her back window than remembering the damn plate number. Juan and I cool out, survey the damage and ask some of the peds if they noticed her liscense. No go, unfortunately. Today, Juan and I went back and talked to the police, who told me they couldn't investigate my report since I didn't have a plate, despite our detailed car and driver description. Fuck tards. The guy treated me like some kind of retard, motherfucker I know how IMPORTANT getting the liscense plate number is but I couldn't, what am I gonna do? At least I'm going through the motions and trying to get some fucking justice. Fucking assholes, I don't know why I even bother with the fucking police. They still haven't dragged the redneck piece of shit who nearly hit me with his car to court yet. I bet if he had fucking hit me and paralyzed me from the waistdown they woulda hopped to it. He had a fucking history of being violent and he's still out there somewhere, terrorizing the populace. Donut eating bitches. Juan and I went to the bookstore, chatted it up at Coffee Bean and had dinner at Hamburger Mary's (BINGO NIGHT!, where a luscious drag queen seated us and gave me the check in a fire engine red stilleto heel. The winner of each bingo round also had to take the walk of shame, where all of the losers got to pelt the winner with their crumpled up bingo cards. It was a colorful day. I have the worst luck with my car, which is the ultimate fugly now. The right passenger door is now cracked and several pieces of the (apparently PLASTIC) covering have come off completely, showing the metal framework underneath. Yeah, sexy. I got more information on gender reassignment and I'm worried about looking like a cromagnon if I take the hormone therapy. I hate my breasts and the fact that I have a vagina, but I don't have alot of skin to stretch to fashion a penis (curse you, asian genes) so I might end up having little to no package at all in addition to looking like a brick shithouse. Nice. Maybe it won't be so bad, my physique is small anyway... but still, at my height, I could look like a fucking disproportionate midget gorilla. or Bizarro with a higher voice. Ugh... Either I work with whatever higher being gave me or go through with this in two years. Conundrum.
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Post by Calavera Diablos on Apr 13, 2005 12:44:50 GMT -5
came up with another damn comic character for void (another reason to slack on homework) that spawned from thinking serrated tongues were cool and being able to swallow large amounts of food like a snake. Stoner surfer bum, Xavier. img.photobucket.com/albums/v34/Androgynus/xavier.jpgHe can eat stuff like a snake. That's all I thought was cool anyway, but i guess he can like wrap aroud stuff and his bones are softer so a punch won't be as painful (need to somehow make him also good at fighting). I have a feeling that after submission, fighting is going out the windo. it'll just get munchie jokes and eating contest gags the whole way. Bumblefuck [Mar. 7th, 2005|04:02 pm] [ Current Mood | busy ] [ Current Music | 5/4- Gorillaz ] That's officially where I live now. Went to the color and lights thingy at MoCA with amy and it was seizure inducing fun. Then we drove through the ghetto that is the "toy district" of downtown l.a., in which I saw no toys but lots of bums and vomit. Little Tokyo is located right next to it, so we bought tiny japanese food. I even had to throw my money away on MORE COMICS and a Nyanko Burger slip folder. Cats in food products are like crack to me. Our Form and Space sub was a dick-licking, pretentious DOUCHEBAG and pretty much everyone was resisting the urge to sink thier xacto blades deep into his jugular. Just when I thought Hartog was the worst teacher in existance, this prick proves me wrong. Arseface. Speaking of actually hating people at Otis, I hope Lisa overdoses on e or dies of dehydration at a rave. The woman is in her late 30s and suddenly wants to be an artist, yet refuses to take advice from her teachers and bitches CONSTANTLY about everything. You can sense her emotional instability from a mile away. She's also Mrs. Partyparty ("OMG you guys, they are sooooooo many good parties tonight!") and she just really got on my case last friday and I bitched her out about the fact that most of us had to go to the storytelling festival to do homework for our liberal arts courses. I wish she would just shut the fuck up sometimes. Homework: essay on McCarty, drawing comp, form and space, life drawing, study for intro2vc midterm. life is so good. Using extra cardboard from form and space to practice graffiti. That shitty material does come in handy. urgh [Apr. 3rd, 2005|12:06 am] [ Current Mood | aggravated ] [ Current Music | Faust- Gorillaz ] Might have to go to court, since smarmy lawyer asshole has failed to try and buy me off. He's going to fucking prison, I don't give a shit if he has a pregnant wife. I'm probably doing her a favor since he's most likely an abusive husband. I just want this to be over with, I'm tired of it. Might see Sin City tomorrow? *is excited* Sometimes, I wish I had a fight buddy. Just someone who is mutually calm and respectful, yet doesn't mind taking it out to a field to pound the shit out of one another when things get bad. The Dame wore Red [Apr. 9th, 2005|12:28 am] [ Current Mood | exhausted ] [ Current Music | I'm Bad- Violent Femmes ] OMFG SIN CITY *rolls across floor in orgasmic spasms* I loved the comics and the movie was just... OOOH. GODS. *shudders* Visual CRACK. I've decided to drop all of the old rps except for narurengan, bw, be and possibly hm. The site's being a fucktard and won't allow me to log in (sorry nate) at present, though. Writing keeps me sane admist the assload of liberal arts essays I get. Btw, thank you, Otis, for systematically destroying my social life. I couldn't even fucking see Shari for her b-day because I couldn't spare a day to not do homework. I barely have time to actually do anything fun like rp or work on my comic shit (Void has probably forgotten about me) in my ha ha, spare time. Motherfuckers. Summer session will only be more hellish since I'll have 8 hour classes instead of 6. The cherry blossom festivals was ok. Not what I expected, but still fun. Picked up Yuko this origami flower vase with lillies in it. Amy's in san fran, so I can't drag her anywhere *gazes longingly at Ryder exhibit* ooh, I'm so jealous. The alternative press expo sounds so cool. I have sawdust up my nasal passages from working on my damned form and space project. Stupid court will not get back to me on trial date or anything and I am pissed. It's supposedly the 26th of april and I haven't gotten any information via mail and they won't answer the phones. Might have to borrow carol's attourney. I hope that prick gets violated with a moldy mophandle. I might even have to be coached in how to answer questions. Shouldn't be too hard, keep 'em short n' simple. No details. I didn't do anything, he's the one who tried to run me over so I don't think I have anything to worry about. Hm, makes me wonder if maybe they'll call in Laura too as a witness. They might. Oh course the bastards take all extra long. I bet they'll let me know what's going down at the last possible minute. God, with the retards they hire into government run institutions, I'm surprised they get paid decently.
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Post by Calavera Diablos on Jul 8, 2005 1:57:12 GMT -5
accidents waiting to happen [May. 9th, 2005|01:48 am] Mother's Day started off nice enough. The day prior, I picked up a specially made Japanese ceramic mug with a calligraphy brush horse painting on the side, arranged for some flowers to be brought over. Made a schedule to figure out what chores I had to get done along with homework. Took mom to see "Kingdom of Heaven" today, everything was peachy fucking keen. And he had to ruin everything. It wasn't enough that my brother was gone in Las Vegas for a week, but as soon as he gets his paunchy ass home, he dissapears on mother's day and doesn't feed the horses or clean the stalls for her. He just fucking left for god knows where. And he fucking made her cry. Now usually it's me or dad who's the one crying, seeing as we're the fragile ones of the family and it's mom playing the karmic nursemaid, giving us comfort and spouting tidbits of eastern wisdom. Mom doesn't cry much, she's too calm for that sort of thing. So naturally, the rare times I do see her cry, it's like having my heart crushed by a ton of bricks. She cries, I cry. It's like some violent chain reaction. I can churn out a bullshit essay on Marxism in thirty minutes, yet I can't bring myself to say anything useful. I just stand there, voice thick, and ask if she wants some wine. We hug, exchange the typical weepy i love yous and I lie and say I need to finish my essay because I don't want to stick around for this. I just don't want to deal with it because it's just another painful reminder of how fragile this house is. We're all kinda fucked up and we're good at hiding it. Sean's basically a working catatonic, or a caveman when he's feeling talkative, Dad ignores things and thinks about hitting stuff, I never stop bringing it up or just take a hint from dad and actually hit stuff, mom gets reclusive and acts like it's not a big deal. Whatever the deal is this time. One of dad's old school chums is dead, but she was like, 80. Hopefully it's not a big deal, 'cause that's the least thing we need now. It sounds stupid that something like this can bring the whole thing falling down, but when you think about it, isn't it always the small things that bring the rest of the other little cracks to the surface? Mom's had to play nurse, therapist and maid for her family, friends, partner, and children. She probably barely had anytime to herself to heal. I know what it feels like to give up part of yourself to help others and how much it hurts to not be appreciated or acknowledged. You'll start to resent the people you care for most. I think it was Amy who said we all seem to work at school because we're fucked up or come from fucked up families. As usual, her dead-pan delivery still makes me chuckle. We should totally have a big emo contest and give out awards. I award Lisa for having the type of crazy that shouldn't be allowed even in an art school.
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Post by Calavera Diablos on Jul 8, 2005 2:05:00 GMT -5
Babyland: electronic Junk PunkAmy, my current infatuation, just introduced me to them at the Knitting factory last friday. The percussion consists of old oil drums and soldered rebar as a crash set (stand in for cymbals), while the awesome vocalist plays old casio keyboards and synth machines while squelching out surprisingly upbeat lyrics for a self proclaimed punk band. The saucy wench is trying to convince me to come to a place called "Bar Sinister" to see them again, but I heard that BS is a really upscale, snooty goth hangout (as in enforced dress codes).
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Post by Calavera Diablos on Oct 18, 2005 3:04:49 GMT -5
I still have yet to watch "The Librarian", as watching "Lost" at Panshope's house has dominated my limited one hour for telly intake, but it certainly looks cool. Geek Heroes are my favorite heroes.
I'm sort of depressed, but I'm working on it. I guess I'm just tired of jumping through hoops and kissing butt to do what I want. Stupid James and his amazing, god-like talents. He's only 2 years younger than me and he's already a comic book legend. I guess I went wrong by actually going to college and trying to get a decent education, that lucky bastard. God, what am I doing? A BFA means nothing in the real world. I'm going to end up one of those 30 year old losers who still lives with his parents.
I've gone through more than most people go through in two lifetimes and I have nothing to show for it. Life has doled me a bunch of shit, I've gotten myself into alot of shit, but I've been able to learn from my mistakes and move on. That's reality though, hard work and suffering doesn't always get you what you want.
I feel so old and tired of the world that's never going to change. We're going to destroy ourselves in the end. In some ways, I've lost my will to get riled up and fight and every day I find less and less to get passionate about. Getting up and facing the day is a chore. I've gotten to the point where I'd much rather sleep and be left alone to my own devices. I hate being called on in class now. I'm tired of wasting my energy on things that don't matter. Everything is about money and kissing ass, it's that simple. The sooner I accept that, the better. LOL I sound like such an old, defeated man!
I know I need to be the bigger man and just lurch through this transitory period with my chest out, but I am in serious need of a battery charge.
I'm fighting alot with my parents because we're all still upset about the quasi-divorce thing. Dad has suddenly become the Uber-Father and is attempting to control when I come home at night (I'm 20, I'm sure he doesn't want to know about my social life) and he actually pretends he cares. Well, he would care if I left. It's weird, he either can't cope with the familial love or he needs it like heroin. I have no idea what's going on with Mom since she is conditioned to pretend everything is fine. Finding any info about my real family looks pretty sad since I was born in a small farming community that not even FOB Koreans know about. I can just see the Korean version of the first European peasants King Arthur encounters in Holy Grail; "Ooh, there's some lovely muck over there!", hee hee. At least that means I come from good breeding! I'll be able to stop a mack truck with me bare fists if I actually exercise. Terry Pratchett's character Nanny Ogg once said that something fine ladies of Lancre possessed that made them prime candidates as wives of Lancre men was an ability to cook and beat a wolf to death with an apron while going out for firewood.
*edit* I just realized I want to be the next Hunter S. Thompson, but minus the drugs. I already fried my brain cells with copious amounts of alcohol and speed in highschool and I'm damn lucky I can still understand "The Best American Short Stories of 2003" enough to realize they are a contrived, trite collection of garbage. Whenever I end up trying to talk about topic A, either in an essay or on the TD, it ends up dissolving into a rant about how much I hate topic B(ush), which means I've won half the battle already. My english teacher both respects me and marks me down for having little to no restraint when it comes to my writing, but maybe all it takes is me channeling the spirit of my inner, cranky old ex-druggie self to carve out my niche.
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Post by Calavera Diablos on Nov 19, 2005 5:34:45 GMT -5
Revenge of the devil phlegm with a side of murder [Oct. 25th, 2005|05:51 pm] [ Current Mood | angry ] I'm doing the sociology panels tomorrow as a GSA event. Basically, we have a gay man, a lesbian, a bisexual or a transgender (the second option being quite rare since there either aren't many in general or aren't very open about it), and a straight person of either gender. We sit in front of the morning sociology class and answer questions about our sexual orientation provided by the students. The teacher is also present and ensures that civility is kept between the students and panel members. Since I did this once before (last semester), I have to keep telling all new GSA members that this isn't going to be a witch trial, not to be nervous, to make sure to say "This is my personal opinion, not the entire Gay community's" (because god knows the fucks in the audience can't see the difference) ect. We get copies of some of the questions the students present on little notecards a week before the panel so we can reveiw (ha ha) and feel less apprehensive about the whole thing, I guess. Here are some of the dumber questions we looked and subsequently, laughed at: 1) "Why are your gay?" That wasn't a typo on my behalf, this person actually wrote "your". 2) "When and how did you decide to change your sexuality?" DUH, with a magical ray gun of course. It's part of the gay youth conversion plan. Too bad I can't actually say that, we're not allowed to draw attention to other people's stupidity or mock them. 3) "If there was no such thing as adoption or artificial insemination, how would you reproduce?" We made a few gay spore and finding host vessel jokes at this one. I don't really understand the point of this question since there ARE such things and I feel that this is just a flat out attempt to unjustify gays to exist by using this hypothetical situation. Thanks guys. Lastly, we got like 50 millions questions having to do with sexual abuse early on in our childhoods that might have triggered this sexual deviancy. Pfffghtp. As wonderful as I feel about this massacre tomorrow, I hope I don't become a raving bitch due to early morning grogginess. Last years panel was awesome, we had a very intelligent and polite class and it was fun, but these people seem to a bunch of inbred, hick retards.
I HATE EVERYBODY [Oct. 28th, 2005|01:55 am] [ Current Mood | crazy ] I was just going to fall into a brownie and organic truffle induced coma tonight (or should I say this morning), but no. One of the more charming percentages of humanity just HAD TO fuel another frothing at the fucking mouth, angry PMS-ing BITCH RANT from me today. Let me start out by talking about all of the finer things in life I experienced today. Like free food. Today, I embarked on a wonderful journey to the Long Beach Convention Center with Panshope (check my friends links if you're truly that curious since I'm too lazy, angry, and burnt out to make a fucking LJ cut), where The Governator and the First Lady were holding what I'd like to call Estrogenfest 2005. It was a womens conference on things such as family and accomplishment and other things I might remember if I weren't forced to get up at 7am and subjected to the torture of reading pink banners with big ass California poppies on them. After dodging fifty billion freight trucks and SUVs containing cellphone tumor afflicted drivers on the Vincent Thomas bridge, Panshope and I finally reached our destination, which revealed itself to be a large, overpriced parking structure on Pine. After a small and hurried explanation about small college papers, Panshope got her fancy press pass and we proceeded to play Get On and Off the Escalator as we bumbled towards wherever the fuck we were supposed to be. After being assaulted by advertisment booths the size of small industrial cities, we found the Main Exhibition Hall, where we sat in a "Loge" which actually gave us a better veiw of the sponsors and political/social "architects of change" than we would have gotten with the Press Pass. We sat through some inspiring interveiws and speeches, took a grip of notes in our traditional scrambly hunchback fashion and got lost some more while looking for the mythical Terrace Theatre for the rape and tragedy panel, which I slept through until Panshope needed to meet her photography partner. While wading through a veritable sea of estrogen and car grill sized behinds packed into teeny, Ally McBeal-esque executive dress pants, we recieved equally large lime green, seizure inducing luggage bags full of captivating, essential feminine needs: shampoo for "frizzy, dry, and rebellious hair", bath salts, citrus lip balm, a "Stop Breast Cancer FOR LIFE" pin in shocking, brain cell killing pink, a crappy community service calendar, and a spiffing, professional black leather notepad with silver bullet ballpoint pen from some bank. What I really could have used was a fifth of some strong alcohol, a tampon, and a family sized bottle of Midol, but hey, I take what free stuff I can get. I don't mean to sound ungrateful, I had a great time and I had fun and I came out feeling as though I didn't want to kill all of the human race. It's just funnier to talk about some of the things we all might complain about in that sort of enviornment. Panshope got knocked over by a strident looking woman, who couldn't even be arsed to stop and apologize, even after she had turned back and witnessed my friend eat convention center pavement. This was more than likely due to the fact that I had adopted a face somewhat akin to a smaller, Asian version of Marv from Sin City, complete with anger contorting my facial features and a raised fist. A healthy Atkins style lunch complete with biodegradable everything soon smoothed that over as we re-entered our assigned Loge for the second half f the conference, in which we also took notes, clapped, and laughed at Sandra Day O'Connor's witty, intelligent responses and opinions during her interveiw with Barbara Walters. We then helped ourselves to the untouched bottles of two dollar Ethos water and Tazo Berry Tea from the unoccupied stadium seats nearest to us. We stayed for a conversation about spirituality, healing, and the feminine approach to conflict resolution with Deepak Chopra (which to say the least, was awesome). After which, we hurtled through the advertisement hall to grab MORE free shit like our organic truffles, some yogurt, copouns to Naturalizer, and recipes for tomato tofu spread. Apparently everyone else didn;t feel like waiting another hour for Arnold to show up, so the ride out of the Parking Structure was a hell of it's own. We also were forced to take the wrong freeway back home, which led to a brief, but none the less aggravating adventure into the section of Long Beach that skirts the border of Compton. I, not paying too much attention to anything outside surviving traffic, didn't notice anything was amiss until Panshope stated very casually "Huh. I think that's a crack whore." I also nearly ran over some meth addicted gangbanger who was apparently trying out some elightening nature hike on the entrace to the freeway we needed to get onto. Once we got home and self medicated with coffee, things became nice and peaceful once again. Panshope put on some Lewis Black audio files which makes me happy. It's much easier when someone can be angry FOR me. On the ride home, while passing a park I used to play at as a child before my family moved, I got a case of Road Rage. I approached the stop sign and waited there for the three seconds, as I learned long ago in traffic school, but no. It apparently wasn;t my turn to go. Some chode in a dark green escalade rover jeep wrngler abomination had zipped out from his safe, residential street area thing and just fucking plowed on through HIS stop sign. I saw him coming, since I was looking to the right and left. By the time I counted my first "one hundred one", he had barely even reached the halfway mark to even get CLOSE to the freaking white line to stop. By the time I reached three, he legally, should have STOPPED AT HIS FUCKING STOP SIGN. THAT'S WHAT IT'S THERE FOR, IT'S RED AND IT FUCKING SAYS "STOP" ON IT! The fucking styreet even has handy BIG ASS WHITE FUCKING LETTERS saying the SAME WORD in case you're retarded or can't look up, I guess. Anyway, so I proceed and he guns his big stupid fume exhaust machine and nearly turns the nose of my saturn into grill putty. IT WAS TWO IN THE FUCKING MORNING WITH NO FUCKING TRAFFIC. What possible miniscule second could he possibily have lost from his busy schedule from OBEYING THE SAFETY LAWS? So, I honked twice, opened my window and yelled "Learn to drive, asshole" at the top of my lungs. I hope the rest of RPV heard me.
"We fuck bad bitches!" [Nov. 1st, 2005|11:47 pm] [ Current Mood | sick ] The Queen Mary: Shipwreck (A dark comedy in several acts *now updated with input from Jess!*) Traffic: It is amazing, we are nowhere to be found. PSYCH, here we are. Parking Attendant: Guess what 10 dolla. Us: Fuck. --PARKING TAKES FOREVER!-- Line: Holy shit, I am amazingly long. Us: We have special ticketmaster printouts, what do we do? Dumbass Security Guard: Get in line, plebes. Ticket Booth Line: I am long too, but not so much. Ticket Booth Chick: WTF, get in the other line that wraps around the building. The security guard totally schooled you. Us: FUCK! Gangster Vatos, except Not: We are loud and obnoxious and we fuck bad bitches! --WAITING IN LINE SUCKS AND WE SMOKE-- Security Guard Chick: Do you have weapons, little unassuming asian chick? How about you, hippie? Ok, fine. Line Lady: Hold on while I take forever to scan your printouts. Ok here is crappy glow in the dark skull stamp even though you can’t re-enter the park, have fun. Us: Finally. Scary face paint guy: BOO MUTHAFUCKERS. Annoying Girls: OMG WE WILL SCREAM ALOT Boat: You are fucked now, behold my ten thousand stairs. We have escalators, but we shut them down for some reason ok Jess: Fuck. People in line: Hurry up, handicapped person goddamn we are assholes --NOTHING HAPPENS SINCE WE ARE IN LINE-- Line Attendant: Guess what, you are first. Empty Pool: I am haunted but nothing will happen since you have to come back for the 109 dollar ghost tour. Dark Claustaphobic hallway: I am ominous. I hope I don’t have people in costumes hiding behind corners. Costume People: RAR. Jess: AUGH *falls* Me: AUGH *falls* Guy in Mask: Oh noes! Sorry, I am an asshole. Me: *foot hurts* Maybe. Walking nutsack: I’m going to scare you by making loud noises and grabbing you even though I don’t work here because I am such a badass guy, witness my boner. Engine Room: Now I am a rave like Monster Massive, except gayer and you sweat alot and there is no E Stolen Babies: We rawk out with our cocks out --MORE LINES-- Boat: Ok, no more stairs and there are working escalators. Oops, I lied. Maze five: I am nothing but stairs Us: Fuck that. Security Guard: I’m going to yell at you alot for leaning on the ropes, even though you have trouble standing Jessica. Jess: *back hurts* aszxsaqw <-- contributed by Buck Guy in face paint: GRAR Us: AAH Guy in face paint: Super fake out! Yo Jessica, it is Brian. Jess: Shit, I knew this would happen. Call me. Guy in face paint: Ok. --TIME FOR A BREAK-- Jess: Can I bum a smoke? Group of Smoking Assholes: We don’t have any lesbian cigarettes, haw haw, BADASS. **Group of smoking, giggling girls: We have what we think are lesbian cigarettes. It is our last one. But you may have it. Cigarette: I have your precious nicotine. I am skinnier than Kate Moss and menthol flavored. Don't complain, bitches.** <-- Contributed by Jess Me: OH FUCK MENTHOLS, MY ONE WEAKNESS *BARF* Food Person: Highway robbery, it is three dollars for a shitty bottle of water Me: jesus tittyfucking christ --END!--
Babyland and tragedy at the Charo Chicken **updated with Gofflin!** [Nov. 14th, 2005|03:42 am] [ Current Mood | awake ] If I were a lesser horseman, I'd like to be Stupid Things Done In the Throes of Righteous Anger, with a minor title included being Violently Messy Emotional Breakups. or possibly the simpler title of Reasons Why Certain People Shouldn't Be Allowed To Own Guns. Ha ha, this might be getting old, but I love it so. BABYLAND AT CLUB REDLIGHT: "Omg you are such an iconoclast, I totally respect you." Phone: *rings* Me: *sleepy* whutd'fukkizzit? theGofflin: You and I have a date with destiny, or simply a skinny guy who dances like an epilectic and an angry, sweaty man. Me: You speak lies woman! theGofflin: Hella did not. Me: ... ok, I'll be over as soon as I pay for my overpriced petrol. Ciao. --FREEWAY NOT SO BUSY... KINDA.-- Cars: *VROOM!* Christine: I am an old 98' saturn sedan with a bashed up right side from when a drunk lady hit me in WeHo. I can get up to 70, but you'll have to wait awhile. It's recommended to bring a magazine. Stupid banana yellow sportscar: OMG I AM SO RACING YOU. Me: Oh hi, you must suffer from smalldickitus. Other car, some jeeproverthing: I think I'll zip into your lane and make you slam on your brakes really hard ok cool. Now I'll signal, that makes it ok, right RIGHT? Me: *twitching* You must be my lucky star... Cause you shine on me wherever you a-BY THE GODS OF ASGAARD I WILL NOT SUFFER YOUR KIND LIGHTLY. *becomes enraged stalker* --APARTMENT OF KITTY-- Me: Better now, and mysteriously here before Gofflin, who had less distance to cover and a lead. Hmm. Ess: AUGH THE LIGHT, THE LIIIIIGHT-oh, they're just street lamps. Me: Hi there, jolly good *dives under bed* GIVE ME KITTY Igor: OH GOD, IT'S THAT THING THAT SMELLS. *hiss* ClubRedlight myspace page: Hi, my owners never took the web designs at community college, so now I will autload every Bauhaus song ever for your enjoyment while your eyes burn from my red on black color scheme HAR HAR I FUCK YOUR NETWORK CONNECTION IN THE EYEHOLE. Ess: My god, this club is lamesauce. Me: Oh come on, it can't be that bad-- OH SHIT, GOTH PEOPLES. myspacesite: I'm hard to read, but check out this anorexic chick in the corset! Is she totally fondling her boobs or what?! Gofflin: BUH. Me: Food in mah belly. --Islands, pop music hell-- Eaterie: *is noisy* Waiters: *are medicated and cheery* Me: Fuck table manners, I'm pissed and desire the blood of virgins to appease my vengeful wrath. But for now, I think I'll have fish tacos. Gofflin: Too filled with hatred of the human race videocage douchebag to eat. much. Ess: *whimpers* --CLUB REDLIGHT, ONE HELLUVA CLUB-- Doorman: Oh Vasquez save us, it's the NORMALS. I will make your cover prices double for that ridiculous cowboy dyke you brought, you should really know better. Gofflin: Yeah well, how about you choke on a dick? Me: Was that guy talking about me? --THE CHOKE!!! (seriously, the room was called that)-- Music: EBM!!! Goff&Me: *like the wall* Criss Angel/vampric poet dude: WE CAN DANCE IF WE WANT TO WE CAN LEAVE YOUR FRIENDS BEHIND CAUSE THEY DON'T DANCE AND IF THEY DON'T DANCE THEN THEY'RE NO FRIENDS OF MINE Gothic Lj Drama Whore: My feet are secretly bleeding inside these pvc hooker shoes. Me: Holy shit. I'll do every girl in this room. Gofflin: There has to be an emergency exit somewhere... CURSE YOU, BLACK CLUB DECORATIONS. Babyland: RAWK OUT Goff&Me: EEEE! Dan: *suddenly has black paint on* Time for the magic--OH GOD, MY EYES Smith: I BANG ON THINGS THAT MAKE THE NOISE Dan: HAND BOOBIES! Goff&me: *DANSE* <-- it is a goth club, so we danse, NOT dance. Fat mexican looking guys: WE DRINK DA BEERS. Me: *shove, kick, push* Gofflin: *push discreetly* girlfriends of fat mexican looking guys: OMG, move you oafish frat boys! How on earth you got into this club, I'll never know-oh that's right, you're wearing BLACK. Fat mexican looking guys: Aw, they were just lesbians, it's not like I blocked the veiw of some hot chick... with nipples. Gofflin: Uh, I have a boyfriend. Me: I am a cursed woman. <-- since i am lesbian, every single friend of mine who happens to also be female is also lesbian according to the world Goff's friend: Hey there, so do you think that the astral transcendence of the collective consciouseness is essential to the karmic illumination of our Lunar-Terran duality? <-- taken from thefrown's Tenderbot short, so not mine Me: WHAT? Goff's friend: I mean, really, what do you find meaningful and enriching in your life? Me: WHAT?? I KEEP STARING AT YOUR CHEST AND I'M STILL NOT GETTING IT, SORRY Shirtless, wringing wet Smith: We have small shirts for the first time since you started seeing us two years ago! Goff: YAAAAY! How much? adorable tinyshirt: THAT WILL BE ALL THE MONEY IN YOUR WALLET KTHNXBAI Goff: :'O Smith's sweat: *SPLASH* --end--
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Post by Calavera Diablos on Apr 18, 2006 2:03:45 GMT -5
When your powers combine... I am CLINICAL DEPRESSION!
Gofflin, being about two years older (and thus, more wizened) than I, has been helping me through this recent discovery. After denying any possibility that I could depressed and going so far as to get mad at my psychiatrist for even insinuating that I am depressed, OF COURSE it turns out that I really am. This is so irritating. Since my doctor moved to Chicago, I completely forgot about those silly things like physicals and blood work. So, I had to find a new doctor. I hate finding new anything, especially people, since I’m a nasty old hermit and I mistrust everyone. It took me near six months to stop filtering what I said to my therapist, for crying out loud. I still go to see her on occassion, mostly for insight and to bitch about my psychiatrist since he gives me these looks, like I have no idea what I’m talking about, but hey, he’s getting paid $150 a session, so all he has to do is smile, nod, and ask me how I feel about (x), the fucker. Hating my psychiatrist, yet dreading having to find another one after such a short transition aside, I’m worried about the doctor issue. Now that I’m all officially depressed (according to him) and talking to someone with the creds to put me on medication, I’m expecting them to toss pills at me like mardi gras beads. I don’t want to be on medication, I have a hard enough time trying to cope with myself when sober. I’m scared of meds, I’m afraid they’ll fuck up everything I’ve been working so hard on regulating by myself. So, instead of being just crazy, then I’ll be more crazy thanks to my new medications. No, thank you. Gofflin was just put on new meds and they messed her up royally, so now they’re trying some other pills. What’s with the musical pill game? Why can’t there be other solutions? Gofflin herself has noticed that she seems to fall back into depression during certain times of the year and attributes it to not getting enough sunlight. Sunlight, aside from giving you cancer, gives you lots of different vitamins and necessary chemicals that have an effect on stuff like your endorphin levels. So, aside from trying out new meds, she’s trying light therapy. Which may or may not work, but at least it isn’t a form of treatment with side effects like constipation, bleeding eyelids, or turning the ingester into a raging hormone beast.
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Post by Calavera Diablos on May 4, 2006 7:25:00 GMT -5
Everybody got a knife, it can be just what they want it to be A needle, a wife or something that you just can’t see You know it keeps you strong Yes and it’ll do me wrong Your six blade knife - do anything for you - Dire Straits
I think I should date more. I'm spending far too much time either by myself or with Panshope.
I was staying away from people since I might need meds, but... I guess a little more social interaction couldn't be that bad. Maybe I just shouldn't jump into the gay dating scene so soon... Maybe just friends should suffice. It has been getting kind of lonely.
Scratch that, now that I've checked my messages, I think I'll just hole up and die now.
I had to get my physical and it was so embarrassing. I wanted to be honest, considering the fact that I was an alcoholic speed freak during highschool and it may just have fucked up my body chemistry.
When my doctor asked me which drugs I used to take, it was like a sitcom scene...
Me: Er, used to smoke LOTS of pot. Doctor Chen: But you don’t do that anymore right? Me: No, no. My body chemistry changed, so I puke whenever I smoke it now. I’m definitely off it. But er, I have lots of friends who do it. Doctor Chen: Anything else? Me: Well... shrooms. And coke. Coke not so much, because... I sort of switched to Meth. Uh, did alot of that in highschool. But never heroin, I’m afraid of needles. I mean, I wouldn’t do it now either... that’s just gross. Oh, sorry, I almost forgot about E. I only did xtc five times though, which was last year. Doctor Chen: What was that? Me: What, xtc? Doctor Chen: No, the first one. Me: Oh, shrooms? You know... Magic Mushrooms? Doctor Chen: OH, right. And you’re not doing these anymore, correct? Me: No, as I said before, I’m completely clean. Er, well, I do smoke tobacco.
Yeah, somebody give me the dumbass award. I must have sounded like a complete creep. Enter me, the biggest drug freak to enter her clinic. I’m awesome.
Then I had my first womanly exam. It got even better when she forgot to read my information survey and started lecturing me about condoms. She seemed cool when I told her I was a lesbian, but yeah... due to my drug habits, I have no idea if some guy ever took advantage of me and gave me some disease in the process. I think the only time I really remember having sexual intercourse with a guy was when Robby (who was also Gay, ironically) and I were disgustingly drunk out of our minds and I pretty much woke up to him having sex with me. For all I know, it could have been him. For all I know, any of the girls I’ve slept with could have done this to me.
About two days ago, my doctor told me had irregular cells. I’m really scared. She wanted me to come in on monday, but I was so busy with school this week, I couldn’t make it. She’s really stressing that I come in asap, so it’s not making me feel any better. I already feel like the biggest idiot in the universe, now I might have something wrong with me and I’m really hating myself. I mean, I can’t turn back time, but I kept thinking, wow, I’m not on drugs anymore and it’s so great, so many people fuck up their lives and never come back, but look at me! I’m young, I learned early and I’m not even 21 yet, hot damn. Now I could be some disgusting, disease riddled, ex-addict. That’s so wonderful. As if I weren’t depressed enough, here comes something else to confront that I can hate myself about.
I used to feel so bulletproof, now I don’t know what to think. I thought sexually transmitted diseases would show signs in an obvious way (which is why I thought I was safe, I didn’t show any signs at all), until mom said sometimes symptoms don’t show up AT ALL.
I’m going in on tuesday next week, but I’m hoping I don’t end up crying or something. If I do end up crying, I hope it’s out of relief that it’s just nothing. Mom said sometimes there just are irregular cells and they have to do a routine scraping and it’s no big deal, no disease or anything. I fucking hope it’s that, because if it turns out to be anything else, I don’t know what I’ll do.
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Post by Calavera Diablos on May 5, 2006 2:38:53 GMT -5
Gofflin has found a new job, so I am gladdened by this positive news. I think we’re going to try and meet up for noodles this weekend.
I took my new kitty, Tater, in to get spayed this morning. The vets basically took advantage of me and conned me into giving them 429 dollars. Of course they called me during sculpture class and relayed the most horrifying message that her liver levels were irregular. They claimed they needed to take a sample of her liver to run a biopsy. Once I told my mother what happened, she freaked out. She got really mad and said she’d never go to that clinic again.
Great. I feel like an even bigger fool now. Urgh, with all of the paranoia I endure, I get tricked into something like that? I can’t believe it. I didn’t even ask them how much it would cost since they made it sound like such a dire emergency.
My mother claimed she wasn’t mad at me, but I could tell she was. I don’t blame her really, I should have known better. I really should have called her first before being all sappy, mother hen-like “YES, TAKE A LIVER SAMPLE NOW PLEASE, OMG!”
Now, I just feel foolish. Tater’s fine, she didn’t need all of THAT, whatever it was. And here I thought those people were so trustworthy, they’d never pulled anything like this before. Maybe because mom usually took care of the visits while I was at work. Do I really exude the whole mindless chump vibe? Mrg. I have to go pick up her liver meds tomorrow (I don’t see the point if mom says it was some great scheme to trick me into giving them more money for a procedure they might not have even done). Maybe I’ll punch one of those doctors in the face while I’m there.
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