Shit I could kill Chris. He spilt vodka in my ice. Now all my ice taste like vodka, and my few non-alcoholic drinks become quite alcoholic since I can't drink anything warm. Bastard!
I also published a really shitty song today that seemed like a good idea at the time. Ok. It didn't seem like that great of a fucking idea. But I was feeling spritely and chipper that morning for very personal reasons that happened to be laying in my bed,and I felt the need to comommorate the occasion. That occasion didn't happen to work out though, did he? Now I have this very ridiculous chipper song that only ends up really depressing me at the end of it all for two reasons-

In speaking of, got my first gig in weeks. Bad thing is, it's with some idealistic Christian band who didn't even bother listening to any of my music before agreeing. It's going to be a funny contrast...wouldn't miss it for the world. They're sending out more fliers than us too, so....mostly sweet little Christian folk....oh boy. That'll go over well. ::smirk::

July 200

It'll soon be my birthday...I'll be turning 22.It's so depressing. Nothing monumentous happens after that as far as age numbers go. 16, you can drive, and get married with your parent's permission (blugh), at 18, you can vote (blugh), sucks for me since I'm fucking neutral on everything, and I can have sex legally with people over 18...YAY FUCKING YAY! Best thing that ever happened to me!At 21, I coul legally drink though I have been for years. Now...there is no really bloody fantastic age number. I'm so depressed.

I visited my Mum. She's driving me up the wall. She gets frantic and cranky over everything. I was doing something in the living room and she was cooking, and she didn't stop complaining for even two minutes. I was about to go out there with the duct tape and tape her mouth shut. She does that with everything. Then she like to mumble something to you in her typically very quiet voice, and when you ask her tp repeat what she said...she throws a fit! She panics over the smallest most trival things, and will slander people she doesn't know to death verbally. I just nod neutrally all the meanwhile thinking, "Please God, lift me from this place!" She also likes to claim she's not the least bit racist, yet she freely stereotypes them. It's so irratating. it'd be one thing if she just admitted it, though that wouldn't be pleasant either. So...enough mother bashing. Ta!

July 2000

Now I know I'm going nuts. I tried it again. You know, the big it that makes people go, "What do you have to be depressed about?". It's that whole thing, "I'm really crying on the inside" which sounds so cheesy but is utterly true.They never get it though. They say they're there for you if you're sad, but if you are actually sad and dare to show it, you're a bummer on their good time and they leave you. Got bit by some disgusting spider. I'm not dead yet, so I guess it wasn't dangerous. Boy I just love it here in Texas. ::Bosie mops up the sarcasm of the floor:: Have you noticed that when you mention a creepy, crawly creature you feel them all over you like a bad drug trip? I'm thinking about moving. Christ, I really am losing my mind. I would swear I just typed practically a page a minute ago, then I can't see it. I'm studying geneology not because I give a crap about who my ancestor's were, but I need to find out where the fuck I got this brain thing. My Mum has it, My Uncle (long dead) had it the worst of all, my Grandma had it, her Mother had it. But she won't talk about her Mother so I don't know how to find out about her. Oh regal blood, tainted by sickness.The other side of my family (God may I forget them), are just a big pack of country yahoos who got lucky. I just feel so meloncholy lately. That has to be the worst of all. World-weary. Sick of everything. Nothing to stimulate you, nothing to depress you. I feel like I don't have emotions anymore. I hear about something horrible, it doesn't faze me. I make up tears just to feel the least bit human. Nothing excites me anymore even though it should. Most of my emotions are fake. I am going to die so young. If suicide doesn't get me, the cancer from the yahoos will. And I show no signs of accomplishing anything worthwhile. I couldn't stand to die without someone knowing a bit of me. The world remembering me a bit past my expiration date. I don't think aybody really knows me, except the show I put on which I think is more me than this decrepit self-pitying thing inside. There's got to be more than me. The mask I wear is the only person I really want to exist. The other half could die away. To love yourself, you have to make someone you could love, and that others could love. Oherwise, you're just cooperating with life. I just feel like everyone else must be incredibly stupid. Ok....Well...I'm blathering in my very drunken manner...so i'm off to go worship the porcelain God.

Adios!

August 200

I am back in my hometown as it would appear and none too thrilled about it. Useless servile city. Piece of trash and shit and other equally unpleasant things. Everything seems so frantic here. Yet so boring. A very bad combination. In fact, It’s just boring enough that I don’t want to talk about it at all. I just want to be neutral and pretend I don’t exist. So…ta. On the way I saw many cows. Many sheep. And lots of pretty horses. Pigs too! The pigs were the most thrilling part I think. Partially due to, I believe their inherant piginess that most pigs seem to posess. That was the entire freezing miserable train trip.

August 2000

I reluct to admit it, but my old hometown is depressing me so badly it's making me madly creative. I've written fifteen short scnes that I think I'll mass into one short story, possibly a novelette. That's not even including the large amounts of smut I've written lately! And even if I shouldn't write smut under the influence...cause then I get frightening dragonfly imagery...It's really good for my regular stuff. I've also much to me Mum's distress been walking downtown late at night. It's so beautiful in a tragic dismal way. I was a bit high and a bit drunk, and I hadn't eaten in a while, and I wnet downtown and I started seeing these things in the doorways, and in the darkness. People without eyes just staring. They were so utterly freakish in an entirely frightening way. There was one across the street, I just looked at him, and he stared. I looked above me and there was a woman staring out the window that wasn't really a woman. It was scary, but wonderful in a way. Of course I went home, ate alot, then went to bed to get some sleep like a good boy. But still, that was really incredible. I also hung out in the trainstation one night. If you're looking for atmosphere the place is literally choked with it. Decaying, falling aprt, odd smells, and the most off people you've ever seen. Strange and disjointed. I suppose I was no more pleasant though. The bathroom had blood soaked paper towels on the floor. There was smelly chinese food upstairs. There was a crazy gibbering old man! What more could one ask for? The street I live on is horrible. It's a street away from a busy one and these insane drivers come careening off hte main road barelling down our street. I used to have nightmares about cars crashing through our house and killing us. Once my family was out driving at night, and this strange car tried running us out the road. I was just a kid, but it looked like nobody was inside the car. I swear. I used to sneak out my window to walk at night also. Then I saw things in the trees. I made up nightmares that I lived through. I took the Bloody Mary thing a bit too far. I actually did begin to see her. She was everwhere. I never did it again though till now after I got chased by some men. I don't know what for. I've run into alot of people I never wanted to see again. Alot of people I used to know have died. OH well. I'm just as weird as anyone else, so I'm sure I'm scaring someone also.

October 2000

New boy in my life, I'm sick, I'm watching Johnny Bravo drinking some very sour Gatorade. Life is good and bad. The dog is snoring. Shockingly though, I can find no inner insparation amongst this. I finally added a new page to my one page novel in the works....wow....I worte a whole pile of new songs. But I need a band to hear them and all the band people are religious and hate me, so they won't join me. I went to a concert of some local bands. Pretty good music when they weren't preaching. They actually had a room in the back where you could accept the lord. On the way there I saw this tent in this parking lot that proclaimed proudly that "Jesus is in Here!" Hmmm....Somehow I doubt it. No one here does secular music. Oh well, I'll get it figured out. That's about all I really have to say...except, do not get high in Peaceful Valley near the river. But that's all. And that's very local information. Oh year, and The Little Mermaid 2 sucks!

October 2000

I hate it so bad in Spokane. I'm starting to feel all oatsy-wheat like. Jake and I went for a drive and we wnet out to this country area with this girl Jemaine. She took us to all these cool old abandoned Victorian homes. It was really cool till we got to this other one that obviously had been used by some big hate group. There were....well, anti-everything and kill everything statemtns mixed with swastikas all over the walls. And it had very recently been used, and Jemaine didn't seem to understand why me and Jake wanted to get out asses out of there. Hmmm...The "Kill All The F*GS!" thing might have been part of our worry and the very new and fresh scent of marijuana in the air that WASN'T ours. Finally we got out of there after practically getting stuck in some dumb cornfield. It was like the beginning of a bad horror film. In The CornFields Owned By Hate Mongering Country Bumpkins...No One Can Hear You Scream! I've got to get out of here soon.

December 2000 Agh, I hate it. I usually TRY to keep a journal on some strange false notion that I'll keep up with it, then by the time I finally get back to series of major events have happened that I feel the need to report faithfully. Jake and I are no longer, and I could use a string of some rather colorful explatives to explain what happened, and I rather wouldn't explain it at all. The mean thing being that it must have not been meant to happen as it so seemeed in it's short span of...errr....being. I have a new job, quit my old one for personal reasons (see above), which is horrible and I detest it with every ounce of my being. I sell friggin jewelry. I can't beleive how mean jewelry people are. Whenever they're mean they use the excuse that they've worked in jewelry for years as if it gives them some excuse to scream at me just because we don't have the rich capitalist shite they want. Seriously, who needs to spend five hundred dollars on a chunk of gold?And I'm sorry, no one can convinve me that with the price difference a friggin cubic zirconia isn't good enough. I actually think they're prettier than these dumb little diamonds. This lady kept me for half an hour with about a thousand other customers who also wanted help witting there yelling at me because I didn't take out my handy dandy chemistry set to check if it was REALLY fourteen karat gold. I mean, I have to trust the tag. What the tag says is all I know and no matter how long she yells at me for it, it's not going to change. My co-workers are....really stupid. I HATE the mall, and we're stuck under the freaking escalator, and if another person ask me where the bathroom is I'm going to start chargin for information. I don't hang out at the mall. I don't know where ANYTHING is, let alone the bathroom. I'm REAALY just incredibly unhappy right now, and wish I hadn't screwed by stupid job at the cafe as I liked that very much. Yet more reason NOT to go out with co-workers. I think I must be paying penance for some horrid sin of mine I commited in a past life. That's all for now without getting hysterical, which would just be embarassing.

January 2001

Ho hum. Another dull day at work. I could complain more, but that'd just be tedious. But I'm so tempted. Well..No, I musn't. Surely there has to be something else to complain about? Uhhhhhhh..................I've got nothing. There's nothing new to complain about. Now that's the ultimate in depressing. I suppose some would say to count my blessings and talk about happy things going on in my life, but as a whole I find hapiness rather boring to talk about. I guess hapiness is just...better silent. That's why I can't stand happy music. Happy music depresses me. I can't really explain why. I just get utterly morbid...when listening to something morbid I at least am tolerably miserable. I have on of those many booty-focused songs in my head. I can't imagine sitting down to write a song completely and fully dedicated to booty. But what am I talking about? I write internet porn. So...does that make me a hypocrite or am I truly justified? Well, hey, at least I don't expect people to consider me an artist for writing internet porn. I'd feel the same way if I wrote booty songs. I'm completely revamping the site. But that's allt hat's going down. But people, okay, SIGN my guestbook and tell me what you think of the re-vamps. Make suggestions abotu my site. Thankyou, whatever and goodnight.

January 2001

Tally-Chally-Whippity Ho! Shockingly pleasant day. No bastards told me to smile. Damned if I'll ever smile at someone just because they...want me to. I mean, not that I'm opposed to pleasantry, but sometimes I have better things to do. And if everyone just starts smiling at everyone, it'll lose it's speical quality. I thought I'd have to take to grinning stupidly at every person who walks by to prevent harassment. I now co-manage a band! Yipee! It's of course a Christian band ::grumbles something::, but it's easy work. Pack of feisty little highschool kids. Actually, they're not fesity at all. Very outwardly nice...very reasonable...but, strikingly unoriginal. Oh well. I guess I shouldn't say this beings as I...well, help manage them. But I would NEVER tell them where this site is anyways. So why worry. fa la la la la! I swear, every infant in Spokane came to be peirced today. I HATE peircing infants! I think the child should at least be old enough to say yes before they have holes ripped in them. Besides...they cry, and they hate me. They have to be at least three months old before peircing. ::rolls eyes:: Three months? Why not just do it soon as they're from the womb. But when my manager wasn't there, all of a sudden the age was raised to ten months. Hush, don't tell. It IS terribly fun to snap latex. Ok, Perhaps I should stop it with latex talk because I KNOW I'll get to stream of consciousness and start talking about sex and latex. Besides, I'm off to shower soon. And everyone KNOWS what showers are really for. Well....ta!