A Discourse on the Nature of Tinys

2007-01-30T00:58:00.000-08:00

Tired of those same old 55 questions about me surveys? Well here are 55 I guarantee you've never answered...have fun...:)

1. Is your second toe longer than your first?
No. But thanks for the concern about my potential deformity.

2. Do you have a favorite type of pen?
Cheap ones. I like to not feel bad that I've lost so many thousands of them when it only amounts to like a buck fifty.

3. Look at your planner for March 14, what are you doing?
I will be in class. Or out slaying my enemies with Frank.

4. What color are your toenails usually?
Toenail colored. Though they've been getting a little yellower of late...

5. What was the last thing you highlighted?
The words of a madman.

6. What color are your bedroom curtains?
Curtains are for sissies, communists. Which are you? Huh?

7. What color are the seats in your car?
I have no car. And if I did it would be upholstered with the hides of those I had slain and stuffed with their hair and powdered bones. But I don't have a car so it's something of a moot point.

8. Have you ever had a black and white cat?
No. I don't have sex with animals. Sicko.

9. What is the last thing you put a stamp on?
I don't stamp things. I brand them.

10. Do you know anyone who lives in Wyoming?
Yes. I do. And their identities will remain secret for their safety as well as my own.

11. Why did you withdraw cash from the ATM the last time?
To pay for things. Duh.

12. Who is the last baby that you held?
Uh... probably my nephew. Unless you count eating as holding and then I don't name my food.

13. Do you know of any twins with rhyming names?
No. And if I did I would slay their parents and then put them out of their misery.

14. Do you like Cinnamon toothpaste?
For what purpose? Eating? Tooth cleaning? Spitting into the eyes of those who defie my dark will? Cause those are all very different answers.

15. What kind of car were you driving 2 years ago?
We've been over this. I have no car. And I would thank you to not point out my vehicular inadequacies.

16. Pick one: Miami Hurricanes or Florida Gators
Well hurricanes cause a lot more property damage and will ultimately cause a lot more death then a single or even large group of Gators. However Gators are one of the most beautifully effecient death makers in the biological world. And taken into account that Alligators are effectively living dinosaurs they can trace back their linages to ancient times if could be supposed that they were able to cause much more overall destruction than a single Hurricane or even a small number of Hurricanes so my vote goes to the Gators.

17. Last time you went to Six Flags?
The only Six Flags I ever cared about are the six flags I made out of the six minions that failed me.

18. Do you have any wallpaper in your house?
No, and don't you forget it.

19. Closest thing to you that is yellow:
Probably some sort of phlegm or bile, cause you can't get closer than inside.

20. Last person to give you a business card?
My dear lesbain friend's mother.

21. Who is the last person you wrote a check to?
My finances are the business of myself and the accountant I carve them into.

22. Closest framed picture to you?
Oh. I'll show you a framed picture. Right in the face!

23. Last time you had someone cook for you?
The soulless drones working in the university cafeteria grant me a nutrient wad twice a day.

24. Have you ever applied for welfare?
I refer you to my answer for question 21 and know that if these questions of a monitary nature continue I may begin the search for a accountant...

25. How many emails do you have?
A number greater than the number of suns we orbit but less then the great and terrible wars that have been plotted in the darkest parts of my meat brain.

26. Last time you received flowers?
People don't give me flowers. I think they fear that if I were exposed to something bright, pleasant, and pretty then some sort of matter-antimatter reaction would occur that would tear the world asunder and cause all else to cease to be. So thank you for pushing me further into the delusional state that protects me from the fact that I'm just one really scary fucker.

27. Do you think the sanctity of marriage is meant for only a man & woman?
Marriage don't mean shit. If two people live together and they call themselves married who the fuck cares? "But... but... Jesus said..." Hey asshole! If marriage was so sacred then why the fuck wasn't Jesus married? Or if he was then why isn't it clear? Huh? Tell me that! Bitch.

29. Do you play air guitar?
I play all manner of air instruments.

30. Do you take anything in your coffee?
Usually the blood of mine enemies with just a little bit of whiskey.

31. Do you have any Willow Tree figurines?
The only figurines I own are crafted from the bones and cured organs of those that stood in my way.

32. What was your high school's rival mascot?
The Fighting I Don't Fucking Cares

33. Last person you spoke to from high school?
That one guy.

34. Last time you used hand sanitizer?
I support a strong immune system and as that I want to test it regularly. So no. And I hope you die.

35. Would you like to learn to play the drums?
If I can craft them from human remains, then yes.

36. What color are the blinds in your living room?
The same color as those six flags I spoke of earlier.

37. What is in your inbox at work?
Oh! So now you want to mock my joblessness! Oh... There will be words spoken. With knives.

38. Last thing you read in the newspaper?
Something about married women becoming the minority. It made me very happy.

39. What was the last pageant you attended?
I have never been to one and am opposed to their continued existance. My brother was forced to sing in one by his choir teacher and I nearly beat the shit out of him.

40. What is the last place you bought pizza from?
I don't buy pizza. Cause I don't have money. Oh... I get it now. This is just another clever way of pointing out the fact I don't have a job. Oh... It's on now!

41. Have you ever worn a crown?
When I sat upon my Throne of Bone I was granted a crown of black iron inlaid with the polished fingerbones of the most powerful persons who ever stood before my black horde. But all that was lost once the Duchy of God-Awful-Cliches allied with the Habadasher's Guild and overthrew my black empire from the inside.

42. What is the last thing you stapled?
A piece of paper.

43. Did you ever drink clear Pepsi?
Yes, like the foolish child that I was.

44. Are you ticklish?
Not really. Though I might be. None have the courage to find out.

45. Last time you saw fireworks?
When I burned down that old folks home.

46. Last time you had a Krispy Kreme doughnut?
When I had one special commissioned to be made from dough that used the bones and blood of mine enemies as a filling. Damn that was tasty.

47. Who is the last person that left you a message?
Hmm. Like on the phone? On on the myspace? Cause regardless I'm pretty sure that is was some dud who looked like a pirate.

48. Last time you parked under a carport?
So, one of these questions... How about you ask me about the last time I hung a man using his own bowels as rope?

49. Do you have a black dog?
Sweet Shiva on a pogo stick, don't you listen! I said I don't have sex with animals. You sick freak.

50. Do you have any pickles in your fridge?
I have no fridge. If by "fridge" you mean the void induced cold brought about by the gaping hole where my soul should be that I use to keep my food from rotting, then it's next to the mustard.

51. Are you an aunt or uncle?
No. My brothers are too young to have children and if they did, I'd beat them with a sack of oranges.

52. Who has the prettiest eyes that you know of?
If ever there was a trapped question it was this one. I refuse to divulge an answer. And besides beauty is in the eye of the beholder and if you speak of the beauty of an eye you are wondering dangerously close to paradox and frankly I like my time/space as continuum as possible thank you very much.

53. Last time you saw a semi truck?
When that truck came to clean up the bodies.

54. Do you remember Ugly Kid Joe?
No, but I figure that he should be feared and hated. As are all ugly people. Cause fear is a lot like love only without the good part.

55. Do you have a little black dress?
Well I don't have a little black dress. Cause nothing I own could be called "little". I have a big black skirt.

No Shirt, No Shoes, No Point

2006-12-26T19:20:00.000-08:00

Well I don't know whether it's the holiday season or the severe lack of neurochemicals brought about by the lack of sunlight, but at this time of year I always start turning my diseased mind to the subject of love. Though this turning is never of my own will. It's like the various emotional components of my broken brain all decide to obsess over whatever will inflict the most agony on my concious mind. It won't let me do anything half-way. If I let myself begin to feel the slightest affection toward a ladyperson despite what I do it will begin to grow out of control. And the more I try to let it go the more it rises to spite me. Love is like a flowing river that carrys you where it will. It drives forward and merges with other rivers and goes from the lazy joy of the slow languid gatherings to the rough ride of the rapids. When love is the only variable gently going with the flow is possible, but at times great and terrible beasts swim just beneath the surface. Things born in madness and suckled at pain's withered teet. Creatures that draw the pure waters in and leave them a burning sticky corruption. Monsters that can be fought, can be killed, but even in death they poisin the water with thier blood and bile. When you are too weary to fight and can now longer stand the sour taste of the water you try to leave. For a time you can sustain yourself; living on cold will and the bitter wine of empty lusts. But the wine sours in time, and you can only drink so much sand. You are driven back to the shores diving into the water and swimming tell the current claims you. If you are of stronger will, or more potent lust, you awaken half-drowning as you realize the fates have brought you back to the river you fled. You fight and drown and tumble through the water until you can't stand it anymore. You scream and claw at the bloodied water and pray to the uncaring gods that your hands can grasp the sharp stones and drag yourself back to shore. You weep and bleed into the sand because you know you will return. You cannot escape for long, but there's always room for hope.

Sometimes I just gotta write

2006-11-22T16:50:00.000-08:00

I seem to be in these moods from time to time. When my mind is much to heavy with thoughts. When even though I don't have anything to say, or anything I want to say for fear of it changing and making me a liar I just have to write. I have to let something pour out of me. Something needs to be said. (Huh with a spelling error I just realized that Dias is said backwards. Funny) But what is that something? What is it that my brain screams? It is somewhat terrible to think that I don't always know. Dealing with my mind is like standing on the edge of a calm lake. But the water is not clear. It is a miasma of wonders and terrors, and though it is my own and I trust that which rises from it, there are terrible things that live in that lake. Things that blur the lines of angel and demon. Things bound by silken bands. Things locked in iron cages. Things forged of nightmares and half forgotten memories. Things that burn with Chaos great and terrible light. Thing that would unmake the world. Things that would crack the bones of the earth for a taste of their sweet marrow. But beneath these horrors lie what fills me with more fear than anything else that wanders the watery reaches. It is the delicate innocence of a child. It is a genuine caring. It is a desperate wanting to serve a willing master. It is the part of me that I'm willing to protect. The part that is shielded by the lake and all the terrors that live in it.

This is a surprisingly personal entry. In fact I'm tempted not to put it up at all. But I've written it and once I've put words to paper I'm willing to let them free.

New And Very Very Angry Poetry

2006-10-11T21:32:00.000-07:00

-Rubies-
Shards of glass extend from my flesh.
Dusty crystal grinds against the bone.
Blood oozes across the once cold matrial now heated by my quivering fist.
Light dances across the rough rubies growing from my hand.
Pain archs across my nerves, soothing the furious fragment of my diseased mind.
Madness brewing a tonic of rage and despair to smother the tiny young warmth growing in my chest.
Huh, I must be in love again.

-"Man Like You"-
Her words gouge into my chest
"A man like you"
Like a bone violin strung with my heart I hear her finished thoughts in the echoes
"Only Better"
"Only cuter"
"Only more handsome"
"Only smarter"
"Only not too smart"
"Only more maliable"
"Only edgier"
"Only more dominant"
"Only taller"
"Only not too tall"
"Only more loving"
"Only more aggresive"
"Only not too aggresive"
"Only richer"
"Only genetically superior"
"Only different"
"Because you're not good enough"

What I Learned This Summer

2006-08-22T18:37:00.000-07:00

Once school ended I spent the first month reading and deeply studying a book called Sacred Contracts by Carroline Myss. It was a profound experiance for me, and because of how profound it was I don't want to talk about it. At least not in the public eye. Once I had finished this book I got a job at Larry H. Miller Cheverolet. This job taught me a few things. The first of which is that I HATE rich people. I mean I have contemplated burning Sandy and Murray to the ground almost as often as I have checked my email this summer. Let me jump back a bit. I worked as the "Courtesy Shuttle Driver". Which means that when people dropped off thier cars to be fixed in the service department I was the one that had to drive them home. I would regularly spend 45 minutes to an hour driving these "people" to thier massive mansions all the time listening to thier inane drivel and retarded attempts at small talk only to be rewarded by a weak willed handshake and a thank you that really said "Isn't it great that I let you touch me". No bitch, it isn't. Just give me some money and get the fuck out of my van. I need to get back and wash some cars. Which leads me to the next thing that I hate; Corvets. I know what some of you are thinking (and by some I mean the one twelve year old boy in Logan that stumbled across this page while looking for nipple slip pictures in random girls myspaces) "But Corvets are awesome and fill people with joy because of thier beauty and speed lol." And those two things are in fact true. However these vehicles are designed to seat the average teenage girl and are only bought by men that could be her grandfather. Getting into a corvet is sort of like being birthed in reverse by a squirrel. Not pleasent. And being inside of them is similar. Not pleasent. That slick windshield that goes with the smooth lines of the car also means that behind the wheel you can't see shit and at the speeds you are capable of you are a danger to not only yourself but also to everyone within three feet of you. Now that that bloodclot in waiting is finished here's something else that pissed me off. Teeny tiny women inside gigantic trucks. I mean I can sort of forgive the Tahoe/Suburban thing. I mean they're the gas-guzzling down syndrome baby of the station wagon; so of course the sub-urbanites would want them. Who cares that they are the aborted baby of the motor vehicle industry and it's rough romp in the hay with consumer america? They're shiny. But I digress. The only reason someone should have a gigantic truck is if they are going to use it. Not so that they can have a show piece to flaunt in front of the neighbors. "Why hello Martha! Have you seen my Truck of Babel? It cosumes more fuel than it would take to burn a city to the ground. I only use it to pick the kids up from soccer and to go to the grocery store but anything more would scuff the paint, and having a shiny affront to God is really important to us as Christians." Trucks are supposed to be beat up cause that means they are being used to haul things, and you know DO WHAT THEY WERE DESIGNED FOR! Or something.

On a new topic another thing I learned is that I can be one charming bastard. I mean I can't really tell the stories on the intertron cause I don't want to but damn, I'm a charmer if I choose to be.

2006-04-27T13:44:00.000-07:00

You are a
Social Liberal
(73% permissive)

and an...
Economic Liberal
(11% permissive)

You are best described as a:

Socialist

Link: The Politics Test on Ok Cupid
Also: The OkCupid Dating Persona Test

2006-03-29T15:02:00.001-08:00

The Movie Of Your Life Is A Cult Classic

Quirky, offbeat, and even a little campy - your life appeals to a select few.

But if someone's obsessed with you, look out! Your fans are downright freaky.

Your best movie matches: Office Space, Showgirls, The Big Lebowski

If Your Life Was a Movie, What Genre Would It Be?

2006-03-29T15:02:00.000-08:00

You Are Barney

You could have been an intellectual leader...

Instead, your whole life is an homage to beer

You will be remembered for: your beautiful singing voice and your burps

Your life philosophy: "There's nothing like beer to give you that inflated sense of self-esteem."

The Simpsons Personality Test

Just figured I'd write something

2006-02-15T12:37:00.000-08:00

I really have nothing to say of any worth right now. Just want to continue to procrastinate about doing my story for Fiction Writing. I won't go into any detail on that front cause well I seem to be at a loss to desribe what exactly it is that I'm trying to do with it. It's got an angel in it and it's sort of an excuse for me to piss off some of the more conservatives in the class. But beyond that I'm not sure how good it's going to be. I guess I'm a little afraid that the idea that I've put a fair bit of time in to just won't read. That's probably the most frightening thing I can think of right now. Having people not get it or if it's bad. I know that sometimes you have to have some bad stories but I really like the characters and if I can't tell the story well I feel that I've let them down. Yeah, that's a brilliant reason. I'm afraid what imaginary people think of me. That's an odd bit of neurosis there. I'm not sure how one would look at that. And on top of the rest of this I'm having lady trouble. And by lady trouble I'm meaning the lack of lady trouble. I'm begining to grasp the art of Wenching (thanks to Frank whose careful observations over the last few years have proved themselves remarkable, Adam the ultimate Mormon playboy, and Justin who has mastered much of the art of Wenching) but I still lack confidence and a viable target. There are a few that might possibly be worth pursuing but they have no real interest in me. And if I push to hard I go into the creepy stalker thing but the subtle showing of interest just isn't making the cut cause they won't play the game with me. Or the more frightening possiblity is that they are playing and my game is just so inferior that I don't know it. (Sigh) One problem I find is that even the smallest interest I take in a girl is it's either ignored or freaks them out. I'm told I have good instincts for the game but it makes me wonder where I'm lacking. It's not good times. though it could very well be, with a little help. And someone willing to play the Game.

Finally some proof

2006-02-05T09:47:00.000-08:00

Your Social Dysfunction:
Paranoid

You show pervasive and unwarranted suspiciousness, and mistrust of others. You are overly sensitive and prone to jealousy.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

Please note that we aren't, nor do we claim to be, psychologists. This quiz is for fun and entertainment only. Try not to freak out about your results.

Stupid things

2006-02-05T09:44:00.000-08:00

School Smart

You're more of a 'school smarts' kind of person. You are best with the theoretical things, and your intelligence is both natural and learned - a blend of personal, experiential knowledge and book learnin'.

80% theoretical intelligence
20% learned intelligence

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

Hmm...

2006-02-05T09:40:00.000-08:00

Romance

Romance is most important in a boyfriend/girlfriend. You need romance in your life. You love the extra dimension that romance brings to a relationship and you tend to fall in love very quickly.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

I'm really starting to think that these are a little off.

2006-02-05T09:36:00.000-08:00

You are a direct flirt

You know who you want and you go after them. If they’re not interested, then you shrug it off because there are plenty more potential hot dates out there. You don’t waste time and, because of this, you have a high chance of finding Mr. or Miss Right (Now).

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

They continue on.

2006-02-05T09:34:00.000-08:00

The Picto-Personality Test

You are a person who is very ambitious, and constantly thinking of ways to further your own goals.

When alone, you let it all hang out and ignore every social convention.

You are intelligent. You use your time to its fullest potential and will go very far in life.

In the future you will be happy and live richly.

Take this Test at QuizGalaxy.com

Why do I continue to do these things?

2006-02-05T09:31:00.000-08:00

Family is most important in your life.

Having a high focus on family indicates that you are a loving and nurturing person. You want to have a nice big family of your own, and you are very close with your siblings and parents.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

He he he

2006-02-05T09:23:00.000-08:00

Undead Warlock

Undead are the forsaken: just like you. While it's important that you don't fall apart (physically or mentally), you might find yourself salivating in an unhealthy manner when someone comes selling cookies. Get more sleep.

You're a creepy, creepy warlock. You delight in the darker things in life - such as setting people on fire, and delight in the macabre. You'd probably fake your own death just to freak people out by getting up from the casket at your funeral.

Find out your real-life WoW race and class at QuizGalaxy.com

It's true

2006-02-05T09:19:00.000-08:00

You are a geek

You are into sci-fi and technology. You are very clever although you are also socially smart. You have lots of friends, geeks and non-geeks.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

Ha I'm more evil than Frank

2006-02-05T09:14:00.002-08:00

You are 33% evil

You are not so evil. You are overall a nice person, although I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side. You have an extravagant imagination.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

Qizzes

2006-02-05T09:14:00.001-08:00

You are Amelia Earhart

Adventurous and boundary breaking. You believe that you can do anything, and do not hesitate to take risks to achieve a big goal. You like to problem solve, when a problem comes up.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

Somehow I think these quizzes are a little off.

2006-02-05T09:07:00.000-08:00

After you die...
Heaven

After death, you will exist in heaven. Everything and everyone you love will constantly surround you for all of eternity. You lucky scoundrel.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

Quizery

2006-02-05T09:02:00.001-08:00

You fit in with:
Spiritualism

Your ideals are mostly spiritual, but in an individualistic way. While spirituality is very important in your life, organized religion itself may not be for you. It is best for you to seek these things on your own terms.

40% spiritual.
40% reason-oriented.

Take this quiz at QuizGalaxy.com

When the Rage burns a whole in your stomach you gotta vomit

2006-01-23T14:17:00.000-08:00

The thing that bugs me the most in regards to Christianity are the exceptions to the rules. Killing is bad except when it's not. Stealing is bad except when it's not. Adultery remains bad but that's becuase it deals with sex and anything that involves sex is bad. Cause it's not like marriage is little more than the agreement between two people to not have sex with other people. No it's a sacred institution that needs to be protected by law and God because we can't trust human beings to treat each other decently on their own. No of course not people are inherintly stupid and unable to do the "right" thing without someone telling them what that is. If it weren't for laws then people would all rape and kill and steal everything they pleased. It's not like people do these things anyway. If someone is going to do something then there is very little that will stop them. I just hate when poeple who's core message is non-violence and they not only condone violence but support it. How can you support the slaughter of millions in the name of God. If you believe that you are the sons and daughters of God how is it that you can so easily take the role of Caine. Vengence feeds the hounds of hell with fresh souls. If your enemy is the devil why do you let him win by killing anyone? Ah well I'm not even sure how much of this I actually believe however it's coming out and I'm gonna let it be. My belly is full of hate and frustration and the only bet is to loose some of it. And on an unrelated note Chilvalry should never be used as a means of control. Now that being said I realize that that's sort of what it was originally. However if in this age of leaning towards enlightened males they use it as a means to control or show their ownership of women I have some serious problems with that. There is a difference between politness and dominance. And male dominace is one of the problems I have with the world anyway. I alost feel sorry putting this up. It doesn't make much sense and is full of misplaced and somewhat incoherent attacks. But. Sometimes you just have to make an ass of yourself.

Puke on Blog

2006-01-16T12:51:00.000-08:00

I want to write right now. I'm not sure what about or even if I have anything to say but still I want to write. And not about anything now that I think about it. I just want to let the words flow directly from my mind, like water from a stream or posin from a wound. I don't know what I'll write about and maybe I'll just ramble on and repeat myself often. But I think that's part of the fun of it. Sometimes you just need to let is all spill out. It's like slitting your belly and seeing what all pours out. Half-digested food, organs, a big mess of no real form. But if you want to look at it deeply you can see things that have some true beauty too them. If you just take them out of context. I'm curretnly blasting metal to soothe my nerves. I don't know why this works but I've always been soothed by more jarring music. On the other hand more soothing fair tends to agitate me more than a little. I sort of wish I could explain it. I wish I could find a good looking woman who I had the courage ot do something with. But I think part of my problem is that I don't want to be the one to put my heart on the line. I don't want to be the only one showing interest. Cause I've been that way too many times. I don't want to repeat mistakes I've already made. I'm trying to do that whole learn from history thing. Cause I'm kinda finished with doomededly repeating it. But you know I'm okay with that. It will all work out in the end. God knows what "he"'s doing even if we aren't sure what that is or who (or how many)'s doing it. Mind puke. That's a funny mental image. I love it! This entire blog says absolutely nothing. It's an utter waste of time. And suddenly I think of beautiful women. One's I'll never have. Though I might if I made the effort. You know I'm not nearly as ugly as I give myself credit for. If I could get some social training I'd be a fine womanizer. Or a dirty old man. Or a husband. Or something of the like. I really don't post on my blog enough which is sort of like saying Bush is retarded. You know a drastically huge understatement. Though I think that I post on my Blog as much as I need too. And Bush is a douchebag. But deep down we all know that. Wow I think this is the longest post I've ever posted. Even as I sit with nordic metal blasting in my ears I feel a sense of peace. It's something I can't explain well. It's like a sensse of nostalgia. Like beneath all the shit the world spirit is still smiling. Gaia is still watching as life evolves to meet the new changes. As the world changes so do it's inhabitancts. We are all bond by the simple idea that if we cannot change to adapt to the new world we will die. There is no eternity. There is no forever after. There is now. Make the most of every moment. Don't let anyone slip past you. Don't worry too much about it. The details will work themselves out.

I'm not a Scrooge. I'm an Iconoclast.

2005-12-07T14:21:00.000-08:00

I don't like Christmas. Haven't for a very long time. I'd be fine with it if it wasn't lying to itself. Be about the corporate and Christian rape of pagan worship or be about closeness and togetherness. I'd be fine with the damn holiday if there wasn't all the Jesus tacked on. Now I don't have any problem with Jesus, I'm rather fond of the man in my own way, just the whole idea that the ideas he sparked off aren't enough. We need a day devoted specifically to feeling guilty about the fact that we don't listen to those ideas? We don't need to be beaten over the head with the true spirit of Christmas bullshit every year? The whole holiday is like looking at the Norse goddess Hel. Half of it is beautiful and wonderful to behold, the other half is dead and rotting, with an all consuming greed that continues to consume all time, soul, and thing. This is how I see Christmas.

But I will hold that I am not a Scrooge. A Scrooge is someone who doesn't understand the deeper meaning of Christmas and just needs to be shown the error in their ways. A Scrooge is ignorant of the beauties of Christmas.

I know all these things. I'm fully aware of how great Chirstmas is. I just don't like it. I know the reasons I don't like it. I can talk about them. In my blog even.

Awkward...

2005-11-30T12:54:00.000-08:00

So due to a recent change in the chemical composition of my brain goo I find myself in an awkward situation. I am no longer prohibatively afraid of women. While normally this would be reason for relevalry if not outright debauchery, I have one slight problem. My interactions with the opposite sex were so defined by the fact that I fear them for so long that I have no idea what to do now that I no longer fear them. Not only that but the fact that I'm supposed to be afraid of girls is so ingrained into the communities that I live and work in that they have no idea how to deal with this sudden change. I can be sweet and charming. It comes as a shock to those that have only seen me cowering at the merest sign of female attentions. I have in my power the ability to flirt, and I'm really not sure what the hell I'm doing yet. I just seem to be pissing people off, but I don't think I care. Cause the one thing that my years of apathy have taught me, it's to not care.

I like Boobies

2005-11-16T13:42:00.000-08:00

So I'd like to say loud and proud that I like Boobies. Both the blue birds and the mounds of flesh attacted to the female gender. Most people would take me as a lecher for saying such a base thing but I'm going to continue to say it. Perhaps this is partly because I am a lecher. Perhaps it stems from the fact that I don't think we should so violently deny the desires of the flesh. All things must come in moderation. I'm not going to lie and pretend a woman's not beautiful in the name of respecting her. If you leave out such a basic fact you aren't respecting the whole person. I try to think in whole people. I try not to oversimplify someone. This means that I will not treat them just as a spirit or mind, but I will take into account the flesh that is attached to those things. I can admire the breasts or buttocks or other fleshy bits of a woman without having them turn into mere toys. I can also admire a woman's mind without letting it just become a puzzle for me to blunder through. Through the lens of the fear I've had for them I can see women in a different light. And as that fear begins to lessen I have a whole series of insights into them as complete beings. I can admire a beautiful woman without letting lust distort my vision of thier beauty. And so I say... I LIKE BOOBIES!!

Another Poem..... Gee I think I see a pattern here

2005-10-18T13:49:00.000-07:00

Frozen
Two choices dance across a mind distorted
Love and fear struggle futilely against each other
Equal in strength and cunning
Frozen by this very equality
Time stops
A moment stretches into an eternity
Stones crumble to dust
Waters perform their dance across the heavens
Borders change
And still they remain
The thick crystals of madness settling across their forms
The boundaries where one begins and the other ends blur
Light distorts through the icy prism
Terrible and beautiful
Trapped in a cage of ice and light
An unmoving war continues
Unchanging
Eternal
Frozen

It's not much but it's all I've got

2005-10-11T15:31:00.000-07:00

The Maiden stands amidst the last burst of color as Apollo drives his chariot into the watery womb of the west. The darkest red of the dying sun adorns her brow woven into soft silken strands that dance in the wind.
Two radiant jewels rest in her soft clay face. Within each facet questions and answers blur into the soft glow of intelligent strength. A tickling breeze brings a smile to her lips. A rift in the heavens pours forth beauty like spring’s first rivulet of melted snow.
Slowly she wraps her arms around herself. Hills and valleys accentuate a landscape brushed with the fine white lines of painful memory. It subtly shifts with the rhythm of her breathing. Beneath her chest neither Ice nor Flame resides, only a simple human heart. It beats peacefully, strained by neither memory of rapture or sorrow. It quietly waits for what is to come.

Reason

2005-10-06T13:42:00.000-07:00

So I have been having people bug me to post on my blog. Why they wish to rush me I don't know. I know that some will argue "RUSH?! You haven't posted in weeks! What do you mean by rush?"

Well it's very simple. I'll write when I'm damn well ready. I don't like to spout off everything I think. It's not my style. It works well for some. Some people have things in their minds that would otherwise fester and drive them toward madness. I work a little differently. Things don't fester in my mind, they process. It's like the difference between a bucket of rotten grapes and a fine wine. It takes time to make it good to get it right. And sometimes you just have to give it time. There comes a time when I don't need anymore data. When I no longer want your opinion. It's not that I don't value it, it's just that it's too late to quickly integrate.

For someone who processes the world externally (As in they talk to people about their problems and need to have someone help them process through them) it is difficult to understand the people who don't need to talk about it. People who just need time to think these through themselves.

It's not that I'm particularly asocial (though at times I am) it's just that I listen to everything someone says. I don't filter out what is unimportant. I find what's unimportant as I think them through. Sometimes I just need to get away from all people and think. I need to remember who I am. I can get lost in the crowd. I don't talk quickly. It can take me time to call up something relevant to the conversation.

So in conclusion I don't always need to write something. I only write when I have something to say and up till now I haven't been ready to say anything. And a word of warning, if I'm not ready for something to come out drawing it out is detrimental to everyone.

What the hell?

2005-08-18T16:06:00.000-07:00

So I'm looking at my blog today as I sometimes do. Usually when the moon is in perfect alignment with the ass of jupiter but today I thought I'd break from the usual arcane rituals involed in my bloggery and just look at the damn thing. So I'm looking and I see that I have a comment on my latest 5:00 in the morning and thinking metaphysically blog. So I look at said comment to find that it is in fact spam. I don't know how it is that I have been spammed on my fucking blog.

"And the gods descended from above, in thier chariots of fire. And they saw me thier sitting quietly eating a taco. And they said to me "Fuck you buddy." Then they stole my taco. And returned up to heaven to have a big ass party. And low and behold I knew that they was having a party because beer, and spittle, and bits of taco were raining down. And I was pissed."

How did this story end? It doesn't. I just stood there and took it like a bitch.

Superheros?

2005-08-05T05:12:00.000-07:00

Superheros are like gods. Having powers that others don't understand, publicly desire, but deep down don't want. What point is there in saving the world if it is at the cost of your own soul, your own life? Protecting others. Helping others. Sadly, in the end you are the most important person in your life. It's not a selfish thing (though at times it may seem it). It's about being able to find the right time. Knowing that this is the way the world is supposed to be. Defending that which you hold dear. Not every villian can be seen or quantified. "The only battle between good and evil is in the heart of youself, whoever you are."-Pier Anthony. Good and evil are not as easy to define as we would like to believe. We seem to think in extremes. Us or them. Black and White. Light and dark. Good and evil. Earth and Sky. Plus and Minus. But the world isn't really like that. The world is gray. A thousand miriad shades of glorious grey. If one walks to close to the light on is burned. If one walks to far into the dark they will freeze. The closer one goes to the source the more that which is pure is is warped and changed. The shadows become bigger and darker. The light become hungrier and more consuming. Balance. This is the key. If one where to destroy evil what would we have? Eternal goodness? No. We would know no evil, and by example we would know no good. We would not know. And in that stands the greatest of my fears. To have nothing left to learn. Nothing left to find or do. Both sides of the coin terrify me. To have no reason to learn. Or that which is equally frightening to know everything. "Your heaven is my hell." Those that strive toward beings gods or superheros with all the power at their command I can never be one of you. To be a god is to much of a tempation. And at this point I'm am to much of a grounded demon to truly reach the heavens. But I am too much called by the heavens to every truly decend to the hells. I am like the trees. Ever burrowing deeper into the dark to find the nuggets of nutrients that I need to grow. While at the same time using the support found in the dark to further my endless reach toward the light. And so I remain. Damned and saved in one single moment of eternity.

What happened to all the Lumberjacks?

2005-07-14T01:16:00.000-07:00

Why do pretty boys get all the women? When was it that manly moved from tall, dark, and handsome to weepy, prepubescent, and pretty? I don't understand. Not so long ago it seemed to my fragile little meat brain that if a man's morning hygenic rituals consisted of more than a shit, shower, and shave than there was either something wrong with him or Grandma died. Not that I have anything against those that go through such rituals. Personally that level of aestic attention is more than I am willing to deal with. I don't think of the aestic. I don't give a flying fruit bat in the middle of Canada about how it looks. What can it do? And if it can do something better than me (as most can) I am more than willing to admit it and move on. I apply this same logic to my own appearance and to the people I am willing to spend my time with. I don't care what you look like. Spending twenty minutes to two hours applying make-up and hair care products is a waste of time. Long as you're clean it's good enough. So back to my original point why is it that pretty has become the way to be? And what is the deal with the angst? I don't care! Your life sucks. So does most peoples. Mine doesn't because I've just given into the flow of life and am thrilled to be alive. Why would anyone want to put new masks over thier true nature? Weither it's the make-up or the head games or the denying oneself to keep the people around you happy. You know what you're the most important person in your life. If you're unhappy then find the cause and change it. Pretending to be happy only rots out your souls. In that case the only thing left is going to be the mask you made. Are you sure you want to live with that? Can you look in the mirror and like the person in there? If you weren't you would you be your friend? Well for me I'll still be finding the way and hoping that eventually huge, hairy, and honest comes back into style.

In the end I find myself agreeing with Mister Luthor....

2005-07-12T22:50:00.000-07:00

Superman must die.

He's the comic equivalent of a deus-ex-machina and I for one want nothing to do with his "I Can't Believe It's Not Greek God" "My life is perfect so yours can be too" boyscout Superheroing. I think it's time that this shallow one dimensional character bit the big one. And here I have a list of ways to do it. Feel free to add onto it at your convieniance.

Use my amazing three dimentional powers and urinate on him. With the force of my extra-dimensional urine he will be torn apart.

A bucket of paint thinner. Thrown on him is color with run and blur together stripping him of his (ridulously) many powers.

Lure him with the inticement of a hooker to a dark room, lit only with two red lava lamps. But the catch is that this hooker will be a SUPER HOOKER, with the power to seduce in record time and will explode once the red light of the lava lamps have sapped Superman of his powers.

Get an Adamantium Blade (stolen from the Marvel universe care of the Marvel-vs-DC plot hole) with a molecular edge and decapitate the bastard. If whatever makes him invincible spreads to his molecular level than his powers don't come from the yellow light of sol but from the devil. In which case I propose my final solution...

File a complaint with God. If this guy is really as powerful as that then I think the Almighty will have something to say about that.

Inspired by Frank (Which works out well since your the only one who reads this anyway)

2005-07-05T06:53:00.000-07:00

The dance. I can speak as one who is both terrified and drawn by it's mirad twists and turns. It's like a path through the dark. That which you see is an illusion. That which you feel is real only in so far as the pain that guides you across the road. Believe in your sight to long and phantoms will taunt you, wisps will draw you from the path you so desperately crave. The enemy becomes what you crave the most. You seek to end the torment. The dark hole that only feed on what you are. You see others fumble there way to each other. Useing the combined sight to find thier way out. Though others become trapped in each other. They stray from the path desperate to leave it. They cling together and draw thier sustainance from each other. Ones too afraid of the path to attempt it alone. They change. Become one. They can no longer exist without the other. They become so engrossed in the parasitic existance they have created that they no longer feel the need to move down the path. Love dies but they continue to need each other. Feeding on only the gods know what.

I am young. But parts of me are very old. Older than I even understand. I watch as the world goes by. I am too easily drawn by the wisps. Too quickly tricked into hoping that that small sliver of light will be the end to the dance I don't understand. That they will guide me to the destination I've never seen. But each time they failed me. These creatures of trickery that I in the end I created. I grow too afraid of the path to consider what lies beyond it.

{Hot damn I need to sleep before I wirte these things. I mean seriously what the hell was I talking about. I need some food and a nap.}

7:30 am and no sleep yet.

2005-07-05T06:37:00.000-07:00

The world is an odd place. Full of idiots. Though this great sea of mediocratic idoicy is slightly watered down with a few precious drops of true genius. When one finds one of this tiny sparkles of wonderment you must clutch it to your breast and never let it go. Because they are like dreams, these tiny fragile bubbles of truth and intellegnce in a world full of the harsh stone spikes of ignorance and lies. And why must it be so? Why do the lies always win? People speak of the glory of honesty yet with the very same breath they will loose unspeakable evils against thier own kind. If ever the world needed a weapon, all the bombs and blades stop short of the raw destructive power held in a tiny truth. People forge whole worlds based on the tiny lies they tell themselves. It is the lieing to oneself that I do not understand. Lieing to others is literally nothing. If they believe thier lie you have done no more than add to the framework that they have created to fill the void in thier existance. But to lie to oneself, is the forging of the foundations that will allow the world of lies and pain to make itself apart of you. Truth is feared, because it could unmake all that we have built.

A Surprisingly Optimistic Brainfart

2005-05-19T16:06:00.000-07:00

When all else fails the world will be a ball of fire and earth or a billion shards of raw matter, and what will I have accomplished? Not much in the physical sense. Then why do anything? If all the accomplishments of man are only a single whiff of a fart of a gnat on the ass of the universe then what can be done? Looking at it in this perspective the only way to justify anything is to make the best of what you have. “That doesn’t make sense. If it’s all just space dust anyway why try to make it better?” Because you can make it better for yourself while you’re here. Don’t worry to much about the big stuff. Changing the world is futile. Worry about the state of your own soul (whatever the nature you believe it to be) and leave the rest to the gods (whatever the nature you believe them to be). Just be a decent person the rest will come with time. And that’s really odd that all this came out of me. Ah well the mind works in mysterious ways.

Reason's why Odin is a badass

2005-05-12T14:41:00.000-07:00

1. He's the god of the Vikings, only one of the most kickass peoples to ever grace the planet.
2. Not only is he the god of war and death, but he's also the god of poetry and wisdom.
3. When he asked for a drink of the well of knowledge they demanded a sacrifice. Did he whine like a wussy and offer a cow or a wad of cash? Hell no! He pulled out his eye and threw that son-bitch in. Because who needs depth perception when you're freakin' Odin.
4. He hung for nine days upside down from a tree, impaled on his own spear to learn songs and runes. SONGS AND RUNES! He hung for nine days impaled on his own spear to learn to read and sing. You can't get more bad ass than that.
5. He feeds all his food to his wolves. Why you migh ask because all he eats is wine.

And that is just the begining. I might add more but only if I feel that you can handle Odin's badassedness.

Games forged in the fires of Mount Doom

2005-05-10T14:29:00.000-07:00

I have beheld two mighty games. One a mix of magic and the glory of ancient china. The other an abomination of action/first person shootery goodness.

Jade Empire- Imagine a tranquil world full of Kung-fu masters and elborate plots. Now add crazy ninja magic and the power to turn into a frog demon that could literally pimpslap god and say "Make me a sandwich bitch!" and god would go "What the hell?" so you'd pimpslap him again and say "Where's my sandwich bitch?" and he would say "Alright just quit slapping me." and you have a glorious, glorious game.

Oddworld Stranger's Wrath- Imagine a bag. Nothing special about this bag just a bag. Now add to it the guy from Halflife, followed shorlty by Solid Snake from the Metal Gear series, now throw in any Clint Eastwood Spagetti Western character and a very irratable and angry lion. Pour this mixture on to Oddworld and add a crossbow that literally fires woodland creatures to taste. You have not lived until you've punched one of the chicken men in the head for his money.

And finally to all the people who read my blog I would like to say; Hi Frank!

Jesus hates me.

2005-04-05T16:27:00.000-07:00

So on Friday I went in to have an ingrown toenail taken care of. It was then that I learned the first of the things that proved I had pissed off the divine. I do not numb easily. After the second shot the doctor told me that he usually doesn't have to use more than the one shot. He also told me that the numbness should last until
(On a side note there is something decidedly eerie about looked at yourself as you are being surgeried on. It's odd that you can look at your own foot and think, 'this should hurt.....a lot'.)
Once the procedure was complete I gimped my way to the busstop and after that to my apartment. After this I ate a mediocre lunch at the cafeteria, and wandered home to study for a quiz in "The History of the World through it's Furniture". Which I failed rather horribly. It was after this class that I learned the second of the things that prove that the divne have abandoned me. I get over the numb rather quickly.
Thankfully the doctor had given me a prescription to that wonderful invention called codiene. I had heard from various sources that it was this very substance that formed the lining of clouds and it was made from the collection of rainbows which were then combined with the hopeful dreams of puppies and small sick children at that it had within it's mighty power the ability to ease even the pain of the world. Once I had made a run to the store to get this wonder narcotic I popped on of them pills into me mouth with the hopes that the pain in my foot might be eased. It was a few hours later when I realised that all the stuff had made me was irritable and gassy. And let me tell you you ain't smelt nothing tell you smelt a codiene fart. These were not farts. They were the souls of the angry damned rising from a portal to the blackest smellest corner of the hell for those that stank to much in thier lives in the form of stink.
And with this image to freshen your nightmares I depart.

A thought.....

2005-03-30T15:50:00.000-08:00

I have seen the face of hell and turned from it's madness once but what I have seen amongst the world of men has made me consider returning.

So anyway.....

2005-03-10T14:34:00.000-08:00

So here I am sitting here thinking about feasting on the souls of the innocent and the flesh of the dutch when I suddenly realise that the souls of the innocent are in fact a pour source of evil power. What the hell is wrong with these so-called "evil" beings? Don't they realize that they are merely watering down thier own dark essence? If you throw something pure into something tainted all you succed in doing is tainting the purity and watering down the purity of the taint. If you really wanted to gain unholy power you have to increase the amount of unholy in your make-up. How many a time has an otherwise wonderful warlock (or other person of unspeakable evil power) botched it by absorbing a soul that "changed his mind" or became the self sacrificial weak point which is the only way to stop an otherwise unstoppable monster? {I apoligize for the use of masculine pronouns, though in my defense men are more stereotypically evil then women. I recognize that it is a flawed stereotype do to the number of women with reachless seas of darkness pouring from thier perfect forms and flawed souls, though it is much easier to remember a single pronoun and not have to deal with the rest of the crap.}

Well I think that's all I have to rant about right now.

(Take that Ryan.)

Bad Juju

2004-11-15T13:25:00.000-08:00

I am a little tea pot. Short and Stout. Here is my handle here is my spout. When I get all steamed up hear me shout. Tip me over and pour me out. Now that I have that out of my system I wanna say that life sucks, like unto a Saigon whore. I say this because a series of petty annoyances and major set backs have occurred at such a time of year that I am lacking in sufficient emotional and mental resources to sufficiently deal with them. I will not go into detail as upon closer inspection I, as anyone else who examines the situation, would easily see that much of this is of my own making. I have stretched my resources to the brink of collapse on too many occasions. I have given in to petty desires, thinking that it will all work out in the end. But riding the good karma wave only works when there is good karma on which to ride. As I seem to have burned up all my good Karma on removing bad karma from a previous life, (I speculate as to the nature of the crime I committed but I think I may have been a dog that urinated on Jesus. Though this is purely speculation. With the world the way it is I find myself growing ever more sad, and it gets harder to pull my fragile little brain together. If I had some form of emotional support system that was more readily accessible than my family (who I might add are lacking such in emotional and mental resources that they are already giving me more support than they can possibly spare), then I could at least feel some comfort. That however is not going to happen because our society frowns on men giving any form of emotional comfort to one another, because all emotions are inherently sexual, and the only women who enjoy my company enough to spend any significant time with me are already attached to someone else, or are lesbians. I can imagine that after that last statement you probably assume that I want to get laid. That I cannot deny, what I can deny is that I have thought of these people in that manner. I haven't. I respect them way to much to distort my mental image of them. Sex is the farthest thing from my mind at the moment. I just need someone to hold me. But since I'm a scary asocial white guy with repressed rage issues I have a sneaking suspicion that this will not happen. People tell me I'm huggable, but for some strange reason no one wants too. There is probably someone who right this very instant is wishing that they could hug me and is merely waiting for me to make a move (I personally and sincerely doubt this but we can pretend). And all I have to say to this hypothetical person is that you will be waiting a long time. How much I desire affection is not the issue. It's whether or not I think deep down that I deserve it, and after seeing all the horrible things that men have done to women over the centuries, my subconscious thinks I don't. I punish myself for the sins of my fathers, and why? Because our world demands that all debts be paid, and since my ancestors blood flows in my veins their sins and debts are mine. I'm sick of this world where I am hated because people who looked like my ancestors committed horrible atrocities. My blood, to my knowledge (and I have looked.) is free of the taint of slavery, but I am blamed for it. I nor any kin that I know of has ever raped a woman. But my blood tells me that no matter the strength of my flesh, my mind will carry a taint that I can blame on no ancestor. I am mentally ill. My elevator doesn't go that high. I take drugs that drive others to excessive ecstasy merely to get out of bed in the morning. I look back over this particular piece of mental diarrhea and I think that maybe it was best that I took the time to write it. That's a lot of shit to be stuffed in one head.

Bad Tidings

2004-11-02T21:41:00.000-08:00

I am of the firm belief that this world is doomed. We stand in an age the teeters dangerously close to a prophisied end. I wait with a heart full of terror and a belly full of rage.

A brief list of the attributes of Tinys

2004-10-14T22:35:00.000-07:00

Tinys (Latin name: Tinius Ironicus) are strange and conflicted creatures. Through exhaustive study I have compiled this first list of attributes commonly associated with Tinys.

1. Tinys are not tiny. In fact they are quite large.
2. Tinys are liked. (Sidenote: This is limited to platonic, friendly, and low level affection. A Tiny is never thought of as ANYTHING more than a friend. [for exceptions see attribute 4] )
3. Tinys are charming. (Sidenote: This charm is only effective with regards to human females under the age of ten and over the age of 40. It has no effect on human males.)
4. Tinys are to varying degrees both asocial and socially inept. (Sidenote: This includes a complete inability to read female body language/reactions. This usually leads to a complete inability to read when a female is interested in said Tiny in a more than "friendly" way. This leads to Tinys wasting huge amounts of physical and emotional resources on females that will forsake them for more "desirable" mates. This has caused the Tinys to develop a sever fear of rejection.)
5. Tinys are trusting. (Sidenote: This sometimes verges on naiveté.)
6. Tinys are loyal. (Sidenote: This can sometimes blind Tinys to emotionally dangerous situations.)
7. Tinys are honest. (Sidenote: This is many times mistaken as belligerence but on closer inspection it is merely a combination of extreme honesty and the afore-mentioned asocial nature.)
8. Tinys are mildly masochistic.
9. Tinys keep themselves under very strict emotional and physical control. (Sidenote: This can lead to the appearance of moodiness when in reality it is the Tinys outward defenses against the Tinys powerful emotions.)
10. Due to the physical/psycological make-up of Tinys the emotion of Hope is highly addictive and in absence can cause what can only be described as withdrawals.
11. Tinys have exceptionally bad timing. (Sidenote: This is limited to affairs of the heart.)

[More to come after I have performed more research.]