Wednesday, September 17, 2003

I can only get on the internet one day a week at the library.
This blog has died before it really began.
That makes me sad.
Things haven't been too fun lately. Why? Too much drama. It follows me like leprosy. Do I help create it? Maybe, I don't know. It's not very easy when I struggle with addictions spanning 15 years.
I'm trying to be a better person, really I am. Don't laugh, this is fuckin' serious. I will fight you in the neck as well as other vital points. My blocks will astound you. There, I feel better.
Guess I'll go for a walk because it's nice outside and there's a hurrycaine coming.

Wednesday, September 10, 2003


Bears cannot be cute
we are really tasty and all limbs flopping about
pepper spray is a joke, really
will you let me take a gun
I am not the one you should be worried about
I have a knife
too bad it fell in the water
if you push me towards the charging bear
how would you feel if I eventually fended him off?
I bet you're only talking shit and you'd really take one
for the team.

Thursday, September 04, 2003

Oh my god I'm so sorry

that I subjected what may be dozens of suddenly ill bloggers to half naked pics of me. Drunk dialing's got nothing on drunk gay night for a high embarrassment factor.

Kung-fu Haiku

eyes snap back like fish
but only when I kiss you
what is up with that?

the days were golden?
you are to emo for me
go back to high school

black panties are hot
do they make me look too fat?
I must punch you now!

Sunday, August 24, 2003

Badminton is not as easy as you think it is......really

Cait's Birthday party included:

me playing badminton for what seemed like hours against skilled opponents for a change (hate mail.....now!)
a huge coconuty cake (her favorite) that was really tender and not at all gross
scooter rides with girls who don't know how to ride scooters (you can't accelerate w/ the brakes on, Kate !)
frisky conversations with girls who dig girls
heady conversations concerning "the meaning of life" type stuff at 2:00 am (no mas!)
no public nudity or random hook-ups (well, with me anyway)
a marked abscence of a B-day gift for Styro (keep that mail comin' folks) because I want to get her something cool that she'll really like. I supersuck. I really do love you, I swear!

Good times were had by all. I think Caitlin had a good time. We both felt like ass this morning and work started off real busy for me.
There's nothing like having to deal with uptight yuppie soccer moms with attitude issues at 11:00 am with a hangover so bad that you feel dizzy just trying to "serve" them. Just eat your effin sammy and SUV it back to the west end already. Arrg! Sorry, sounds like I'm the one with issues.
Oh, and Amy Choppa has the cutest laugh on the planet and picks up strange boys in the field behind her house while she's walking her dog Apollo. True

Friday, August 22, 2003

How can something so simple be so messy

It's a preposterous conceit on my part but also unavoidable
these self-involved words arive fully possesed
and I assume, completely warranted
when a compliment has to be disguised
as an burn (you can't help it, really)
and a burn means you care, while nothing at all
says you don't
why can't it just be inevitable
the way it feels

Monday, August 18, 2003

Back to Normal or whatever

Caitlin (styro) is back from vacationing in the pacific NW! She brought back for me:
1 fridge magnet that says "I Heart Porn"
1 Hustler mag. with insightful commentary on the war by Mr. Larry Flynt
1 coffee mug that says "Seattle" and has pics of the space needle, a tree ('cause logging's real big out there apperantly) and a whales tail.

It's also Cait's B-day today! Happy birthday Caitlin, you know you're the coolest girl ever. Big party at our house on Sat. Be there for drunk baddmitton and plenty of flirty Texans.
Get some!

Sunday, August 17, 2003

I don't want to get too emo on you, but sometimes it's important to remember snapshots in your head and how you always want to feel like that (unable to be trapped).
Naked in mid-July with psudo-hippie guys I thought were my friends.
Half moon, humid and swinging low and the bay bath-water warm.
We would attempt a low tide channel crossing to the two acre sandbar in the middle of the inlet. Although this was typicaly an easy swim, there is a sign posted under the bridge with a well rendered grim reaper pointing to the thirty-odd drowning victims who probably didn't think twice either. Twenty year-olds have no fear. The water feels clingy and none too wholesome (note to past self: don't swim in the bay with open wounds). I tried not to think about it too much when a fish would brush quickly against my body, about mid-crossing.
The exaultation of safely finding sand under-foot.
Pale crabs swiftly retreat in columns as we run and scream like mad men.
As we zig-zag across the bar, blue phosphorecent lightning bolts streak through the sand from juvenile jellyfish lying in shallow divots of water. Blue bolts shooting from the toes of ten or twelve boys as we degenerated into a mob of "who can step on the
most". I never once was embarrassed about my nakedness. Darkness provided the nesessary semi-cover that allowed that momentary lapse of self-conciousness and freedom from preconception.
How liberating.
This situation is not, in itself, unique.
Not feeling this way every day is what we're up against.
Give it to me again.

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