A Random Image

Archive for August, 2001

|| August 29, 2001 || 6:50 pm || Comments (0) ||

I saw an entry to someone’s journal today that reminded me of this poem that I wrote a couple of years ago:

This Boy

This boy’s hands shake

-Only slightly, so that I would notice-

And I fear for him.

I fear for him because

He has an intellectual mind

And a good soul.

The world says it admires

These qualities, but it devours

Those who posess them.

Perhaps the world feels

That by consumption of those

It will in turn become the same;

Perhaps the world fears those

And by consumption of them

It will alleviate that fear.

I am unsure, but this boy’s

Hands shake-only slightly-

And I fear for him.

In other news, my computer is kinda ass-up right now. I don’t know when I’ll be back. Cross your fingers, cross your legs, cross your eyes, wiggle your nose and PRAY. Thank you.

|| August 28, 2001 || 8:23 am || Comments (0) ||

I am presently sitting in front of my computer, mightily tempted to put my head through the monitor. Of course you wanna know why, so I’m about to tell you: I’ve spent the last half-hour typing up bad reaaally bad atrociously rotten poetry for a few greenbacks.

The woman that I agreed to type them for is a bad reaaally bad artist, so I don’t know why I expected her poetry to be any better. The shit of it is that she is a retired teacher. What was it she taught? English. “Those who can’t,….”

Two guesses as to what she wants to do with the poems after they’re typed, and if you guessed that she’s gonna roll around in honey and then stick my neatly typeset pages to her naked flesh, well, uh, you were just wrong. You were more than wrong. You were WRONG (you know, like in that making-the-gesture-for-crazy-next-to-your-temple sense).

Anyway, she is going to have them litho’d OVER her really bad paintings *ACK*, so I’ve typeset them in a font called ‘CAC Leslie’. That font reminds me of the ones you see on those crappy, sentimental greeting cards that make me want to claw my eyeballs out. The ones with bad art. And bad poetry.

She adores this font, by the way, and told me that I have such a wonderful sense of her work, of her. I wanted to wail like a baby in need of a teat.

I think the worst part of this job is not even the icky words. I could ignore them if I simply had to type, but that’s not the case. She has them laid out all funky, so I am forced to pay attention to what’s written. She thinks that if her words have a funky layout, then they will come across as more ‘artistic’. They don’t. They come across as bad reaaally bad atrociously rotten poetry laid out badly reaaally badly.

I shouldn’t have worked on this first thing in the morning. It’s too early for this shit.

|| August 27, 2001 || 11:49 pm || Comments (0) ||

I love the fuck out of this layout. Were Patrick my boyfriend, I would trade sexual favors for a little design lovin’. Does that make me a whore, or the standard in a give-and-take relationship??

|| August 27, 2001 || 2:29 pm || Comments (0) ||

ON CLEANLINESS AND CRUSHER, AIM convo from earlier today:

Unxmaal: moo

JettSuperior: oink

JettSuperior: wheet!

Unxmaal: howsya?

JettSuperior: clean

JettSuperior: and you?

Unxmaal: i’m ok =]

JettSuperior: are you clean as well?

JettSuperior: LOL

Unxmaal: yes!

Unxmaal: omg

Unxmaal: beth

JettSuperior: omg

Unxmaal: by honor of motherhood

JettSuperior: whut

JettSuperior: sha???

JettSuperior: whaaa???

Unxmaal: you are blessed with great knowledge in
house-cleaning skillz

Unxmaal: so

JettSuperior: shit.

Unxmaal: how the hell do i clean a shower curtain?

Unxmaal: i can’t throw it away; i luvs it

Unxmaal: but it’s got … mung… on it

JettSuperior: I clean up one room and
they trash another….but what kind
of curtain?

Unxmaal: it’s this horrid tacky one with a hawaiian
island scene

Unxmaal: i’m doing my bathroom in hawaiian tiki

JettSuperior: oooh, you need some
mark ryden tiki art in that mutha.

JettSuperior: what kind of material is
it made of?

Unxmaal: plastic

Unxmaal: thicker vinyl

Unxmaal: i was thinkin i could just unhook it and
throw it in the washer

JettSuperior: Yeah, little detergent,
about a half-cup of bleach should do

Unxmaal: ok cool

Unxmaal: see!

Unxmaal: you rock

JettSuperior: put it in the shortest
gentle cycle, tho,

JettSuperior: ‘cos you don’t want it to
wrinkle or tear.

Unxmaal: yea

Unxmaal: omg wil wheaton

Unxmaal: talked to me on aim!

Unxmaal: eee!!

JettSuperior: when?

Unxmaal: but ….. he linked
me wrong

JettSuperior: tell him…and I wrote him
an e-mail pimping you.

JettSuperior: but he no respond, the

Unxmaal: you did?

Unxmaal: haha he talked to me for a few hours

JettSuperior: well, name-drop me. tell
him I’m astounding.

JettSuperior: tell him to worship me as
you do.

JettSuperior: tell him I can give him
cleaning hints.

JettSuperior: *snort*

Unxmaal: yea!!

JettSuperior: so, what kinda crap did
you talk about?

Unxmaal: geeky stuff

JettSuperior: not boobies?

Unxmaal: see this?


JettSuperior: here i goes.

Unxmaal: see the ‘cool guy’ link? it goes to anil
.. not me :-(

JettSuperior: how do you know that
it’s you?

JettSuperior:‘cos the #?

Unxmaal: my /. # is 231

Unxmaal: we were some of the first /. nerds

JettSuperior: okee dokee

JettSuperior: mail him and tell him.

Unxmaal: i will later =]

JettSuperior: i’ll be pissed if he

JettSuperior: ‘cos I’m cuter than you
and just as clever.

JettSuperior: BWA—hahahaha!

Unxmaal: hmf

Unxmaal: just cos u got boobies.

Unxmaal: :-(

JettSuperior: hmf?

Unxmaal: humph

JettSuperior: hurt

Unxmaal: hmf =]

JettSuperior: my phe4lings

Unxmaal: awww

Unxmaal: /pats/

JettSuperior: that what that means?

JettSuperior: hmf?

Unxmaal: hmf = humph

JettSuperior: okee.

JettSuperior: okee.

JettSuperior: smokee.

Unxmaal: it’s not an acronym =]

JettSuperior: I still maintain that I am
clever, anyway.

Unxmaal: i didn’t dispute that :-)

JettSuperior: mmkay.


JettSuperior: AHHH-hahaha!!

|| August 27, 2001 || 12:42 pm || Comments (0) ||

7th Heaven rocks! We like to play “figure out the lesson before they start beating you over the head with it”.

“They’re all jerks!” “No…they’re all insane!” “Awww…no, they just all needed to have their faith in the mailman restored…”

But I gotta ask: Are they intentionally turning Matt into Keith Partridge, or did it just sort of happen?

On an unrelated note, the check is in the mail. No, I lied. But that’s just ’cause I can’t find a shipping tube long enough to get the Spongebob Squarepants kite into. And I don’t want to break it.

And that’s the truth.

|| August 27, 2001 || 2:32 am || Comments (0) ||

Worth a glimpse just for the tagline at the end of entries: “My brain crawled out my ear at [insert time here, baby]“

Not ALL GeoCities sites are a steaming pile of dung, y’all. I implore you to put aside your prejudices and technology snobbery.

That, or fork over the dough-re-mi for a domain and hosting for me. Goodnight, Gracie!

|| August 27, 2001 || 2:21 am || Comments (0) ||

HEY! Cool….I’m not as big a loser out here in Cyberia as I thought I was.

Out of 10,000-some-odd sites and 28,000-some-odd links, I am numero 2,297 on the list (presently, anyway).

And quite by accident I found a friend that I didn’t know I had. *crosses eyes, sticks out tongue and waves at Deb ovah heeyah*