March 17th, 2003


(no subject)

japan's secret underground is a sort of bone-scrapingly weird situation, isn't it? i mean, besides the post war inconsistancies, there is the quoting of subway stations that happens so often in nihon-chic media; it never occured to me to recognize its oddity. what was aum shinrikyo’s actual aim?

yesterday was fucking weird, not the least of it because due to opportunism & old fashioned gen-x ironic glitz, jenny & i spent it with the biologicals. first we went to benihana's for hibatchi & sashimi (after a few false starts at other restraunts- i can never remember that whole part about sushi restraunts closing for lunch) for my sister's twenty first (21) birthday. saying it like that leaves out alot of the bickering, but also neglects to mention that i got my mother drunk on sake & she made me steal the cups. then there was a little television & sneaking making out, until my mother came back with her boyfriend. i don't know don so much, but i do know the he was like, the sound guy for nine inch nails for a long time. because he's friend's with trent reznor's father. after that, we watched i, spy & ate poprocks, & despite what any detractors might say, that movie is really entertaining & also, i think jenny & famke do look alike; at least enough to be siblings? i like fictional siblings.

this morning jenny was really tense, leaving, because jeffrey wasn't here to take her to the airport. we stood out side while she actually wrung her hands. i don't think i'd ever seen that. we called his house & were told that his car was gone- so i told her not to worry. still she worried, because still no sign of jeff. so i called leigh's, on the outside chance that he might have stayed there, just to soothe her worries. which was where we found him & woke him up. no real worries, though, as we got to the airport with plenty of time.
  • Current Music
    crown me king- "anne boelyn's sixth finger"
closeup samurai

i tell you this now. RIGHT NOW.

he has 6 legs, & is like a beetle, only fatter! i can't believe it took me this long to find out that john allison's brief flirtation with hosting his comics at pay-per-view sites was over. this man is a genius, despite being 100% british. penny arcade & sinfest can take a tupping liberty, for all i care! i am not sure if "tupping liberty" has been used in any way approaching the proper context, but i will point out the singular fault of scary go round compared to bobbins: where is fallon?
  • Current Mood
    capricious. & bud light.

robot nationalism.

your peachless mre. the most anti-social cats in the world come over near me & hide behind me. sometimes my mind wanders & i think i need braces because the lower incisor that is out of place aches in my jaw most of the time, & twice as much in the cold. my rib cage is a vineyard picked over by the rats of nimh. my heart is the faultless wine they ferment & age.
  • Current Music
    crown me king- "ammityville coloured pills (feat. eminem)"
blur shotgun

get a reciept. you've been written off.

so phillip came to bring me back to kent, like the mortal kombat fatalities master that he is. we only took a picture of these girls dancing at us in a car next door, which is a shame. a shame? why a shame? what legacy could be contained in the servent's chambers of the mansion? well, there was, for instance, a guy in his underwear standing outside fly fishing in the middle of the road. or, it would be fly fishing, if it hadn't been the middle of the road. i think i'll call him classy mcpatrick's day.

three notes on mentor, real quick. the only person there who was actually my friend besides jenny was allen. not to diminish mark or jeffrey, because i mean, we're friends, but when was the last time i saw them besides during convienant "oh you are in town" get togethers. okay, that is point one. point two is a simple one, too: i did not exchange any meaningful dialouge with theresa in any fashion, & exchanging goodbyes consisted of waving from across the room.

the last point is basically a "what the fuck leigh." at one point i thought she & i had something in common. & maybe we did. but she took the captive angel that it was, hitched it to the bumper of a pick up truck & drove it over gravel time & again. there isn't even artistry in her lack of grace. inapropriate topics aren't funny if you are just saying them for shock value, if there is no hook, no punchline, no sinker. you arn't even a good example of the franchise. no fiberglass statue stands outside you, & if you were a bar the only thing you'd serve would be cheap shots. if name dropping her ex-boyfriends is your idea of twisting the dagger, cloak of medea-ing me? if your idea of switchblade innuendo is to imply that i can't trust her with mark? consider all our conversations from now on a yawn.
  • Current Music
    the mouldy peaches.