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[Apr. 20th, 2009|11:11 pm] |
There is no human God. There could be a blind, thousand-tentacled, galaxy-shitting idiot beaver God out there who birthed us, but that's as far as I'd ever go with theology. This is to preface the fact that I am a stone-cold, dick-punching atheist.
I am put in a logical position of accepting this: Because my life was irrevocably and fundamentally changed by the moment I met my wife, any decision or event of influence upon me before that time could not have occurred in a way that would alter my trajectory toward Trang. Any poor decision I made, and crap job I took, was necessary for me to meet my wife.
To know and accept this is to me, living in a rational world, such a fortunate conjunction of disparate elements that ppppooooooppppaaaaaaa |
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| (no subject) |
[Nov. 4th, 2008|11:18 pm] |
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"THE PRESIDENT'S BLACK! THE PRESIDENT'S BLACK!" |
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| Obama drops Victory album |
[Nov. 4th, 2008|09:44 pm] |
Jim Lehrer was crying after Obama's President-Elect speech, he could barely talk.
LET THE BUZZARDS CIRCLE WASILA |
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| Save vs poison |
[Nov. 2nd, 2008|02:54 am] |
I wish Barack Obama had released all of his D&D records. What is he, a Paladin? Some Bard/Monk hybrid? I am hopeful that we will in three days elect a black nerd from Hawaii for president. |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 25th, 2008|08:44 am] |
I am going to carve a huge dick on my face and say a Dino Rossi supporter did it.
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| My Day |
[Oct. 24th, 2008|10:14 pm] |
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Schnurr called last night, told me to be to work at 6:30 the next morning. I can't sleep from having stayed up all night on a graveyard shift two nights before. I finally fall asleep about 1:30. Get out of bed at 5:30, leave house at 5:45, get to work at 6:15(if no trains get in the way), sit in a breakroom that smells like ass for 10 minutes until the lead man comes in and says some stupid shit. Am I operating or grounding? If there are enough guys below me in seniority on the roster that day, I get to choose. If I'm at the bottom, I do what nobody wants to. Is it going to be a busy day in the yard today? How many tracks are we stripping? Are the railroad being an asshole and not doing our moves until the afternoon(more work at the end of the day sucks, and is dangerous as hell sometimes, everyone barreling their 200,000 pound machine backwards through a 70-foot space with a 40-foot container and make a left backwards through a 50-foot space between empty containers stacked four high, and whip it around, drop it into a 40-foot slot in a railcar, making sure not to crush the two guys standing about 3 feet from the hole on either side. You can eventually learn to drive these things like giant go-karts or something. I honestly believe in my heart of hearts that I would be really good at operating a giant Shogun Warriors-style robot. It couldn't be any kind of weird spandex-suit kinetically-driven bullshit either, it would have to be all joysticks, like 4 joysticks with each having a big thumbwheel at the top and like four triggers on each side. And what the hell, just implant my brain into the damn thing and be done with it. How awesome is it to be a robot? I think I might be the first man to find out. VOTE CL021272*. |
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| Carvy McPlumperpants |
[Oct. 24th, 2008|10:03 pm] |
She was not smart enough to realize the "B" was backwards.
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| HOT CHICKEN PARTS AREE FOR LOVEING |
[Oct. 20th, 2008|11:36 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | below | ] |
| [ | mood |
| | ant | ] |
| [ | music |
| | subterranean cave dweller celebration chant | ] |
The smart people are going to take over and subjugate the dumb people into being sensible. It's TECHNOCRACY, man. They used to have a little shop up on Phinney Ridge in the mid-90's that had the look of a run-down Eckankar store-front. Why did Eckankar rent the street-corner window of the Fox Theater in Centralia for so many years? This back when the only way to learn about anything was to get ahold of a pamphlet or receive ill-informed information from apathetic parents. Maybe that was just me, but in any case it is appalling that I should even be required to conceive of the idea that there are adult people in the world who don't have personal experience of trying to research something without the internet. Think about how much time you spend on the internet looking things up. Do you have that amount of time to go to the library and ask a reference librarian, or for looking until you find what you need to know? This is the difference I see at work: dummies who don't know how to work the immernets think Obama is a Muslim; dummies who know how to look up porn are voting for Obama. They also send atrocious fucking cell-phone spam emails that invariably feature explicit fuck action and tinny, distorted music/dialogue. But they will also punch holes in the drywall of a tavern back entrance while you piss on the floor, so they're good people. IVE SADE TOO MUCH |
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| (no subject) |
[Oct. 18th, 2008|11:15 pm] |
Somebody told me this at work today: "So, Iraq, is just like a scene from one of those Sinbad movies where there's like a thousand guys in robes with scimitars and turbans jumping off the balconies onto a dude and he takes them all on. He's America. We're America."
I remember working at the Library when the first Gulf War was going on, and there was a rally and some douche country singer sang, "Proud to be an American". I glared at them all from behind the drapes of the gallery upstairs. I had a dream that I got a sneak peek of my house in heaven and the carpet was that exact orangey-brown ultra padded carpet especially on the back set of stairs which nobody ever used and the carpet pad was like new. I also have a recurring dream where I'm back in the stacks and not wearing pants and I have to figure out how to get out past Edie and Lisa(?) and a bunch of PA-TRONS. I usually just put my hands over my crotch and run real fast.
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| THE FREAK OUT POLICE AND GET OUT OF THE COUNTRYSIDE COME ON INTO THE CITIES NOW BEFORE IT STARTS |
[Aug. 26th, 2008|10:40 pm] |
On the evening of November 4, or possibly very early on the morning of the 5th, there is a very real chance that I will be running down the middle of the street, screaming, "THE PRESIDENT'S BLACK! THE PRESIDENT'S BLACK!" What the hell is this hillbilly country going to do? I'm excited to find out, as long as we get the progress on to sun-shiny happiness prosecute Bush/Cheney/Wolfowitz/Rumsfeld path and not the Montana Militia's revolution to secede from a BLACK UNITED STATES. I just gave away the idea for my novel I wrote in, uh, 1991 or somethin', yeah, baby. PEACE. OUT>FRAAAAAAAHATIMETRAVELLER |
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| NEW JACK CITY |
[Jun. 15th, 2008|12:41 am] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Bunker | ] |
| [ | mood |
| | Lascatory | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Soundtrack to "Grease" | ] |
Jack's gone through his third husk already; the sheds look so weird when you turn them inside out:
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| Jesus F. Honyocker |
[Nov. 26th, 2007|07:45 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | Eckankar | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Wire, Pink Flag | ] |
I just saw a website, blatantly sponsored by Honda, that offered up a big steaming pie of "Gen X" nostalgia to try and sell an Accord. First of all, I hadn't even particularly noticed that my generation had faded out, and the torch was passed on to a bunch of little hip-hop internet porn brats. But their choices for cultural representatives of my generation - Ethan Hawke? Christian Slater? The Real World? Where the hell was I when all this happened? Safely tucked away in a bubble of actual disillusionment, thank the stars. I fought off Winona Ryder and Stone Temple Pilots with the banjo, beer, and hardscrabble subsistence jobs, like making circuit boards and finger splints. It led me to where I am now, and so was worthwhile. |
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| I GOT SOMTHIN' TO SAY! |
[Sep. 11th, 2006|10:46 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| | determined | ] |
| [ | music |
| | The Kinks, "Do It Again" | ] |
No not really. I wish I were more organized in my journalizing, but I tend to just plop it. Anyhoo...
Buying a house. It's in the suburbs, a stone's throw from I-5. Literally, I could stand in my front yard and chuck rocks through the wooded buffer zone and over the sound-absorbing wall into traffic and listen to the screeching tires and that *BISH!* glass and metal cruncherty sound. I've heard that a couple of times and it's so deceptively unlike what it really is that is happening. Should be louder and boomier and clangier.
So it's a house. It's in Mountlake Terrace, has four bedrooms and no garage, a medium-size suburban yard and a handful of problems. Water collecting in the crawlspace, requiring a trench to be dug and drainage stuff put in. Part of the roof needs new shingles. Needs paint, some new flooring, oak hardwood floors need refinishing, overall not bad for a 50-year-old rambler.
I really can't stress how much I hate carpet. It is a filth memory of years upon years of toenail clippings, sneezes, dog craps, microscopic parasites, dander and detritus. Pubes from the 70's. Boogers from 3 generations of a strange family. I am immediately tearing out all of the carpet in this house. There may be hardwood floor under some of it, and that's great. I know there is only concrete in the rec room, and that'll just have to do until I can put in something better. And I'm a barefoot-in-the-house guy thanks to my wife and her family. Don't care. Carpet just ain't worth it.
Let's go off on a semi-tangent: I knew when I married my wife that someday her parents would be living with us; they are recent (10 yrs.)immigrants. They have crap jobs, Mom because she has always worked too hard to improve her English, Dad because he's kind of a lazy, belligerent louse who doesn't care. They will be living with us because Trang and I both know it's the right thing to do, but now that the day has come, neither of us are very happy about it. I am planning to fortify one of the bedrooms, label it my "study", and retreat there whenever possible. I'm working on plans for built-in bookshelves all along one wall. My computer, guitars, and books will be in there, along with a nice reading chair. I may have to karaoke-proof the walls(to protect from outside; I won't be performing karaoke in my bunker, that's the in-laws gig. And they can't sing.), but that remains to be seen. After living in apartments and sharing space with others for so many years, I'll finally be able to find a place to brew beer. I'll bust up the old patio and pour a new one, and make some tile mosaics to incorporate into it. Meanwhile I will need to longshore my butt into the ground to pay for all this crap.
Roger Copy Over?
sbtrctr |
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sbtrctr's journal
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