(no subject)
Jan. 18th, 2003 02:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
you know i got shit on my mind. always have, always will. and unless i clean myself from head to foot by choking it all out of me, unless i spill the bile, so to speak, i can never get unsick. i probably will never be clean or healthy, but contrary to what people may think or even say about me, i'm not one to simply give up. i must have that. i must have that.
so i may not be very good These Days about checking up on my friends page, but i'll continue to empty this brainpan onto this virtual paper until it is all out of me, which will never happen BUT i cannot stop. i have to Get The Worm Out, to use one of my favorite alcoholic expressions.
that's my preface. that's my explanation. that's the reason (as opposed to an excuse) why i'm still writing even after i said i'd be gone for a while, and why i'm not leaving any comments or even reading much (aside from the occasional cursory glance). that's why i'm not going to be an absolute friend... nothing personal, i'll be BACK at some point in the foreseeable future. but right now, i'm neither here nor there.
so on with it already.
first off, i have to let you all know that
seanp's music is amazing. and his album's title is one of the best EVER. anyway, this kid rocks, and he rocks it well. very, very well. i am excited, and i'm literally going to be freaking out until Release Day.
also,
slbass,
mycrazymind,
secretlanguage, and
thatdirtyblonde are all doing some really amazing things with music, too (if i forgot anyone, pls forgive!). if you know what's good for you, you'll follow up on ALL of these wonderful motherfuckers and get in on the action while you still have the chance. 'coz these peoples are gonna be sploding in your face someday, so it's best to get your shields charged up, get yourself immunized against the awesome radicalness of their various departures from norm-o-rock. all of these people are absolutely amazing, and you'll be very glad indeed to get in on the ground floor. because before you know it, there'll be another Nirvana-like groundswell of Honest Music that's gonna kick the sand out from under your feet, and you're going to either swim with the tide, or against it. and it's gonna be a mighty, mighty tide indeed.
tomorrow is the day. i've all but decided that i'm going to show up, just so i can see what he looked like. i'd at first pictured a gaunt, ritzier Peter Boyle, but i think now that he probably looks like every other VFW member in existence: steel framed bifocals, immaculate hair, maybe a moustache, and probably a monogrammed jacket. silver hair and enough Republican fat to feed a family of pygmies for a month.
oh yeah, i drove by his house today, on my way back from the video store. the light was on in the upstairs living room (that's the way suburban houses are built out here - the living room is up a half-flight of steps) (except for ours, which has a single floor) (i know, subversive, ain't it?). and there was only one car in the drive. maybe they moved recently or something. or maybe their children know just as well as my mother and i do (the only thing that we actually agree on), that they're just shits, and nothing more; no more deserving of parenthood than a clump of lichen.
i've also decided that he did rob me of an essential role, and that in dying without saying nary a word, he drove the stake in further. i'm not going to forgive the man for his neglect. that would be like rolling over and playing dead myself. no, people can't just do that. had i been born post- Roe vs. Wade, maybe i'd have been aborted, and probably it would have been better for all parties. (i'm only being honest, and i do NOT feel sorry for myself when i say that; it's just a fact, and facts are things that everybody has just got to get used to, sooner or later.) but i WASN'T aborted. i lived for 31 years (and counting), and not once have i heard the first peep out of that fucker, who lived less than 2 miles away from me.
what he stole from me is permanent, and it is reconciliation; resolve. there now can be no resolution for me in that regard, and i most certainly do blame him, that asshole.
let me now make it clear that i harbor no hate whatsoever for any individual.
i saw Barbershop today, finally. why is it that movies like that and Pootie Tang, which are among the finest, most well-written comedies of the last decade, NEVER get the kind of respect they deserve? i mean, if you judge from the adverts, you'd think they're just funny ha-ha movies; something to watch for a few belly-laughs and that's it. and yet, in the case of Barbershop, the thing is so much deeper than that. there were some downright profound moments in that. and both of them, in my opinion, should be regarded as absolute CLASSICS, right alongside a slew of other great films that feature a cast Too Black for White America.
oops, do ya think i may have just stumbled upon our little state secret? i think so. all white people who feel "uncomfortable" around "negras" should just be taken out back and put down. we don't need 'em, and if we don't just go ahead and do it now, they'll just go on passing along their horrible disease to future generations, and then we'll NEVER get anywhere. so just take em out back, go on, take 'em out back and shoot 'em. they're not serving any useful purpose here anyway. are they? and as any good shepherd knows, sometimes ya just got to thin that herd up.
maybe i'll continue this rant at another time. i'm getting horribly drunk tonight, and i can't think of all the other things i wanted to say. so i'll leave it for later. like five minutes from now, when i've thought of yet another meaningless 1,000 words.
pardon my spelling tonight. i'm not going to bother proofing this crap.
so i may not be very good These Days about checking up on my friends page, but i'll continue to empty this brainpan onto this virtual paper until it is all out of me, which will never happen BUT i cannot stop. i have to Get The Worm Out, to use one of my favorite alcoholic expressions.
that's my preface. that's my explanation. that's the reason (as opposed to an excuse) why i'm still writing even after i said i'd be gone for a while, and why i'm not leaving any comments or even reading much (aside from the occasional cursory glance). that's why i'm not going to be an absolute friend... nothing personal, i'll be BACK at some point in the foreseeable future. but right now, i'm neither here nor there.
so on with it already.
first off, i have to let you all know that
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
also,
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tomorrow is the day. i've all but decided that i'm going to show up, just so i can see what he looked like. i'd at first pictured a gaunt, ritzier Peter Boyle, but i think now that he probably looks like every other VFW member in existence: steel framed bifocals, immaculate hair, maybe a moustache, and probably a monogrammed jacket. silver hair and enough Republican fat to feed a family of pygmies for a month.
oh yeah, i drove by his house today, on my way back from the video store. the light was on in the upstairs living room (that's the way suburban houses are built out here - the living room is up a half-flight of steps) (except for ours, which has a single floor) (i know, subversive, ain't it?). and there was only one car in the drive. maybe they moved recently or something. or maybe their children know just as well as my mother and i do (the only thing that we actually agree on), that they're just shits, and nothing more; no more deserving of parenthood than a clump of lichen.
i've also decided that he did rob me of an essential role, and that in dying without saying nary a word, he drove the stake in further. i'm not going to forgive the man for his neglect. that would be like rolling over and playing dead myself. no, people can't just do that. had i been born post- Roe vs. Wade, maybe i'd have been aborted, and probably it would have been better for all parties. (i'm only being honest, and i do NOT feel sorry for myself when i say that; it's just a fact, and facts are things that everybody has just got to get used to, sooner or later.) but i WASN'T aborted. i lived for 31 years (and counting), and not once have i heard the first peep out of that fucker, who lived less than 2 miles away from me.
what he stole from me is permanent, and it is reconciliation; resolve. there now can be no resolution for me in that regard, and i most certainly do blame him, that asshole.
let me now make it clear that i harbor no hate whatsoever for any individual.
i saw Barbershop today, finally. why is it that movies like that and Pootie Tang, which are among the finest, most well-written comedies of the last decade, NEVER get the kind of respect they deserve? i mean, if you judge from the adverts, you'd think they're just funny ha-ha movies; something to watch for a few belly-laughs and that's it. and yet, in the case of Barbershop, the thing is so much deeper than that. there were some downright profound moments in that. and both of them, in my opinion, should be regarded as absolute CLASSICS, right alongside a slew of other great films that feature a cast Too Black for White America.
oops, do ya think i may have just stumbled upon our little state secret? i think so. all white people who feel "uncomfortable" around "negras" should just be taken out back and put down. we don't need 'em, and if we don't just go ahead and do it now, they'll just go on passing along their horrible disease to future generations, and then we'll NEVER get anywhere. so just take em out back, go on, take 'em out back and shoot 'em. they're not serving any useful purpose here anyway. are they? and as any good shepherd knows, sometimes ya just got to thin that herd up.
maybe i'll continue this rant at another time. i'm getting horribly drunk tonight, and i can't think of all the other things i wanted to say. so i'll leave it for later. like five minutes from now, when i've thought of yet another meaningless 1,000 words.
pardon my spelling tonight. i'm not going to bother proofing this crap.
Re: the claws come out
Date: 2003-01-19 01:33 am (UTC)and i like being horny...
so...
actually, i agree with you on some points... i think the whole concept of "fashion" is pretty damn stupid... i think the fact that the girls have to be a certain size is stupid too - but that's the size the designers make the show/print clothes for... things have changed a bit with the "plus size" market - but not much ("plus size" is a size 12-14... yeah, right...)
as far as it not being work...
i've been the make-up artist on several shoots/runway shows & they put those models through HELL!!!
i actually enjoy watching it...
they'll get them in there at 5am for makeup & work them until 8pm almost nonstop...
i especially like when they shoot swimsuits in november! hee hee hee...
the runway shows are worse... i've seen girls pass out from exhaustion...
i guess it would help if they ATE something...
but yeah, a whole lot of the "pretty people" unfortunately fit the dumb-as-a-stump stereotype...
if you became a rock star they'd want to date you...