6.28.2005

Mister, Would You Help My Pony?

6.28.05
3:23pm
I just had my interview for the full time 3pm to 11pm shift. Bagged it. Man, I can’t wait ‘til I start making awesome money for nothing rather than just good money for nothing. I heart this country. And if Phil gets the job? Jesus, all we need is Will crashing a space station into the building for everything to be perfect.
I need to start getting creative and soon. I wish Christina would edit that goddamn year-old video.
Me me me. It’s all about me and that is dull. Dull as Dulles.
You should all check out Har Mar Superstar. It’s a guy who is so Prince that even Prince was taken aback when he first heard him.
I highly recommend “Sextape” as a first exposure kind of song.

4:24pm
I used to respond to residents and paients here with “Hello, do you need assistance?” but after a few months here, I dropped the “Hello” and just started asking if they needed assistance. I just used “Hello” for the first time in a very long time and it’s weird, I felt a little happy on the inside. I think I’ll keep this up, as least for a while…

5:38pm
I rock.

6.21.2005

THE POWER OF POSITRON GLIDERS

Last night I wasn’t sleeping and I put the radio on at 4am. They played ‘The Wind Cries Mary’ by Jimmy Hendrix (which I had never heard and I am totally digging -- thank you instant gratification of this Internet Age). Then they played ‘Spirit of Radio’ by Rush (also something I had never heard and that I am now digging but slightly less than the Hendrix). Lastly (as in, the last song they played before I went to bed, not the last song they played ever…this isn’t THAT kind of story) they played ‘Pretty Noose’ by Soundgarden. When I woke up this morning, I downloaded the Soundgarden albums Superunknown (1994) and Down on the Upside (1996). About a week ago I downloaded The Cure’s ‘Wish’ (1994) and a while back I downloaded Pearl Jam’s ‘Ten’ (1992 or 1993). I cannot get over how great that period was for music. So many of my favorite songs or albums are from that period. Music was so much better then. Sigh. Agg. Foot. I can’t function at this moment. My brain feels like a solid thing. No motion. No one cares, nor should they, but, hey, I have an hour left here at the Hospital, why not spend it writing very significant things such as THIS.
Nothing interesting is really happening.
I got a callback. That’s kind of interesting. Having that tomorrow.
Yeah
Mm hm
Iiiiiiinteresting
I need to have more fun.
First, I have to get well.
Yes.
Well.
I could invite Kaitlyn to watch Reno 911 with me, but she doesn’t read my journal anymore because I don’t have her listed as my friend anymore because she wouldn’t join my fan club because she hates me. Therein lies the boggle.
I need to stat work on my new short film.
Actually, speaking of which, I am going to call Ray and find out where the project is. I need attention and being in a film is a great way to get it.
Yes.

6.20.2005

Ubiquitous & Iniquitous

I feel like I’ve been drinking caipirenas (kai-pee-REE-nyaz). My head is swimming, I’m pukey. Urk. Fucking phone. So the wedding went better than they typically do. Philip added a lot. We had our own hotel room and boy oh boy was it hetero.
This seven year old (my cousin’s son) challenged me to a dance contest…he got served. That little fucker owes me ten thousand gallons of ice cream on which I have yet to collect.
Man it was hot. I was flat on my back thrusting my legs straight up into the air while creeping towards him all the time. I destroyed that kid.
The DJ sucked. From Frank Sinatra to the goddamn fucking Chicken Dance to Cotton Eye fucking Jo to 50 Cent…Christ. It actually got worse from there. The final song was “Last Dance” (what a cock) and that was when I dismantled the kid. but I prefer a DJ to a band. Wedding bands are always so fucking sappy and depressing to look at.
My cousin, Michael and his bride, Jean made parts of their wedding jokes though and that was pretty awesome. The gifts were these little boxes of Jordan almonds with the phrase “Thanks for coming and making this the best day ever!” on them and their first dance song was “Forever Young” from Napoleon Dynamite and Old School respectively. Pretty good.
AND, I was talking to my sister about that fucking Gwen Stefani song about her feces being fruit. My sister (four years more 'in the know’ than myself) informed me that I was thinking too hard. Obviously she wasn’t saying her feces was bananas (B-A-N-A-N-A-S), but this new slang was baffling. Turns out she is saying bananas to mean crazy. She was going back to the old days as far as sang. Wow. I feel lighter.
I think I should arrange a hotel room trip. Someplace out of the way where twelve people or so can get three hotel rooms and have a big thing. Hotels are awesome. Totally awesome. Room service is too, although olives in Caesar salad are NOT awesome. They are, in fact, naughsome. Naughsome xmax.
The beds in this place were supersexy too. I probably would have enjoyed it more if it I hadn’t been coming down with the Furry Death (the malady I am currently afflicted with).
Earlier today I had organic milk for the first time.
I am ambivalent. Alternating gulf streams of scalding fury and arctic loathing roil about my feet, legs, torso and neck while a gentle nonchalant breeze caresses my face and tries to separate the adventurous orchid from my magnanimous hat.
Algolagnia, my friends, is underrated. Give it a try; make your hickey into a love bite. Make your love bite into a health risk. Make your health risk into a baffling case of exsanguination. There was this special on serial killers, specifically those that ate their victims. One thread that kept coming up was a deep love for the person that was consumed. The eaters wanted to be closer than any sexual act would allow. They wanted their object to be a part of them.
I think that is amazing. And a bit sexy. Think about it.
I’m going to stat my new book now and enjoy my watermelon Jolly Rancher lollypop.

6.19.2005

I'm going to the chapel and I'm gonna get mah-ah-ahrried.

Spent the end of last week and beginning of this weekend at my cousin's wedding.
I like riding in cars.

6.15.2005

One down...six to go...

I adhere to the belief that there are seven (7) Perfect Days in a year, meteorologically speaking. These are days where there is a wonderful breeze, you don't sweat at all and it is as pleasant in the sun as it is not in the sun. Today is one of them.

6.07.2005

Gold Day

6.7.05
11:19AM
How can this day be getting better already? I woke at 10:25 refreshed and swaddled in an intangible amniotic sac of Good Feelings. I went to my PC to find the aforementioned NIN Mexico City show downloaded and displaying excellent quality and then I set about preparing for my commute. I dressed, filled my water bottle and left. Thirty seconds later, I enter the only air conditioned room in the Hospital…the room I work in, to find a HUGE box of what look like muffins on my desk. I lean over and ask the Security guy if I could grab one and he says he thinks they’re here for the Operators.
Gorgeous.
As I sink my shining white teeth into the soft fresh baked golden brown skin of this muffinesque…it hits me…it is a croissant…in the shape of a muffin! I take a moment to realize that Jesus made these just for me.
It’s amazing, the vague feeling of Good that was drifting around me has become palpable…in the form of a Croissant/Muffin.
OH me oh my I hope I haven’t jinxed myself! Time to read a book.
*****************************************************************
Anyway, the day maintained its Happy and that...is Good.

No habla Nine Inch Nails

Just downloaded the NIN show from Mexico City. The audience is hilarious. They're singing along and it's great. This is going to be an awesome day. I love all that is and was and might still be. Rock on y'all. Rock the funk on.

6.06.2005

Reflections on the past few days...

Weekend Recap/Welcome to the Fungle/__________
Sleepy duck fluff tickles my nose
I smell something funky…it’s my clothes.
The weekend was fun, except for the sun.
That fucking fiery ball…thinks it’s SOOOO tall.
You’ll see what’s what when I cover you in sack cloth.
Pissed off, ripped off.
Tired.
Wired about Phil
can’t wait to chill
‘pop’
somewherebetween12th&13thonthird
Thank you B lady for the chill suggest
Now we got the card back, that’s off our chest.
Now that we got cool breezy
Everything’s easy
The summer will please we
Can you turn down the music?
What music?
All I hear is cool.
A bit trepid ‘bout the kisses though
Make a man go and blow
a load dans his pans…whoa.
Magic lips, magic hips, magic tips,
flip the script, Strength, RESIST.
Fretting like a member of F.I.G.A.
Try not to be a chauvinist pig-a.
Welcome to the Castle ___________
You mean so much to me, __________
Did I say _________ ? I meant ________
Drink the Chrism of Life
No worries, no strife.
Clear skies, smooth sailing.
Take a look over the railing.
What a view.
What to do?
Who to do?
Who NOT to do.
PG not PJ, PG not PJ
Change your ways,
spend your days fighting
who you are
who you were
who you want to be
who you want
*******************
I know I usually use my web page for this kind of thing, but I think this is an apt capsulation of recent history.

6.05.2005

After arriving home at 5:14am and being woken up by the Sun at 8:32am, I wrote this reaction to the Sun then returned to sleep.

Fun in the Sun
The Sun is bad
He hurts my eyes
He pours his angry
From the skies
Yes, I know that I've been drinking
But, guess what, I've been thinking
The Sun is full of hurty rage
Pinioned in his celest'l cage
He looks on down
And starts to frown
And raises the temperature gauge
MY shit is bananas