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Archive for November, 2000

 
|| November 16, 2000 || 2:23 pm || Comments (0) ||

I am inundated with cherry Jolly Ranchers today. Fuck. I don’t want cherry, damnit; it ranks right down there with grape. Here, green apple!! Come, boy, c’mon!

 
|| November 14, 2000 || 2:09 pm || Comments (0) ||

she’s got a case against me / a jury of my peers / and the rage of the righteous / screaming in her ears / i’m not dignified anymore / i can’t say i didn’t call / i say i love you / she don’t hear me anymore

and don’t give that girl a gun / i said now don’t give that girl a gun / she’s already won / she’s already won

i made a bad connection / she says i went astray / i jumped ship abandoned my post / i didn’t think i lost my way

but oh how the mighty fall / i saw her crack a smile / i don’t got a chance for redemption / she don’t believe in the miracle mile

so take the first shot baby it’ll be real clean / i’m your girl strong and mean / second shot baby it’ll be real cool / i’m your fool

i said now don’t give that girl a gun / i said now don’t give that girl a gun / (give that girl a gun) / she’s already won / she’s already won

yeah / i said hold me closer / cause something’s happening / why can’t we come together / she said “i doubt we ever will / ever will again”

i said don’t give that girl a gun / i said now don’t give that girl a gun / she’s already won / she’s already won

i said now don’t give that girl a gun / i said now don’t give that girl a gun / (give that girl a gun) / already won / she’s already won

yeah / (give that girl a gun) / yeah / (give that girl a gun) / yeah yeah / the first shot baby / it’ll be real clean / i’m your girl strong and mean / second shot baby it’ll be real cool / i’m your fool / i’m your fool / i’m your fool / don’t give that girl a gun / yeah / yeah / yeah

/// Indigo Girls, “Don’t Give That Girl A Gun”

 
|| November 13, 2000 || 1:44 pm || Comments (0) ||

Wow, at this rate, I will have a fully-functional page in five years….

Changed the bg color in August, now (crazy kid that I am) I’ve gone and added a link to the guest book at the bottom. Geez, what’ll I think of NEXT??

 
|| November 13, 2000 || 12:09 pm || Comments (0) ||

He just came in carrying a little burnt-orange colored bible and several strings of beads….I think I am going to be sick.

Three-dimensional analogies can be a bit overwhelming.

 
|| November 13, 2000 || 12:00 pm || Comments (0) ||

My brain is rat-tat-tatting today….trains of thought are speeding by too quickly to jump on one and see where it takes me…

*sigh*

I make no bones about my contempt of the world at large, but sometimes I wonder about my place in it. I feel like I am in a rut (“Lump sat alone in a boggy marsh / Totally motionless except for her heart”) and halfheartedly flirting with the idea of getting out of it….raising my shoulders, straightening my back and then….well, nothing. Just nothing. Slumping back to the original position.

My life is plastic pop-beads. Remember those? Those little plastic, obscenely-colored pop beads that snapped together in any number of patterns that you could imagine for four colors. After awhile they become the discarded things scattered all over the house, under beds, in dark corners of the closet, behind the dresser. One by one they disappear, save for the few that cling together stubbornly. Ultimately those too are useless. What’s the use for five little pop-beads? You can’t even hook them together. They aren’t enough. They cannot even hook to themselves. After mom has chased away the rest in fits of springtime tearing out and re-organizing, those five are chucked out as well. They are not a set. Get rid of ‘em.

Ditto my ideas.

Shit, even if the set had remained intact, those pop-beads are BORING; you move past them because the number of patterns and uses are distinctly finite.

I marvel at my current lack of profundity. Ahhhh, fuck; even if I wasn’t deep before, at least I perceived myself as such. I was told as a small child that I was BETTER, I was MORE, I was SPECIAL STOCK. What in the fuck? Why would you do that to a kid?

What kind of impression am I making? Will other people’s mental snapshots of me show me beaming and unfettered? Will they reflect me in a somber light? Will my lips be pursed, my face puckered and closed-off?

 
|| November 12, 2000 || 1:01 am || Comments (0) ||

I have decided to lob off my hair. ESPECIALLY in light of the fact that the going trend (as observed with regard to all the really “it” popsicle sticks in high fashion) is super-long, full locks.

After literally HOURS of perusal, I have decided to lob off my head instead. I mean, who in god’s name knew there was so much hair art hovering about out there, ESPECIALLY in the short genre??

And oh yeah, a really great big FUCK YOU to this place and their “Hey-you-ain’t-gonna-right-click-us-baby” bullshit. Hairstyle #1137 has been successfully transferred to my hard drive and Miss Judy will be using it as a template for my new ‘do on WEDNESDAY. Take THAT, bee-otch!

 
|| November 11, 2000 || 10:05 am || Comments (0) ||

My guardian angel likes rock and roll. I’m pretty convinced that God Himself does as well.

I’ve come to this conclusion because of something that started happening around 1990.

You see, anytime I’ve had a situation of monumental doubt or unease unfold upon me, I am given a message. A sign, if you will.

Out of nowhere, I will hear the song “All Right Now” by Free (a bawdy bunch from ye olde seventies). Months and months can go by and I simply never hear it. But hey, bring out some personal ambiguity on my part and BAM!, there it is. Whether it’s in my vehicle, a passerby, on television or a store, I hear that particular song. // Ever hear the Muzak version? See what I mean? I have. \\

Thanks, Dear Heavenly Father, for giving me an angel that knows how to pick ‘em.