so jenny finds it endearing that the plot line i'm intrested in in big fish is the love story, not the boy's adventure story. but the boy adventure plot has that whole "omg, how much of this is real" current running beneath it. the love story you could pretty much assume was going to work out okay. i was sure sad that the twin peaks giant was dead, though; i wish he could have been the giant. not that colossial freakazoid stephan hawking guy wasn't up to the task, though. i guess i liked it more than i'm saying; i'm just telling you: the faerie tale is the real story. thats what i've got.
today at work it was the first day of the summer semester & i guess i actually worked.
at the age of 1984, george orwell was the youngest intergalactic superspy there had ever been. his treastise on power hierachies had paid off in spades in hyper-college, & here he was reaping the benefits. setting is synchrometer to local standard time, he stepped off the transit tube with a feeling of...OH FUCK LOOK OUT FOR THAT MEGABUS ORWELL!!!!!! SCREEECH!
the m(as in -ordicai)-oral of the story is: kill whenever possible.
my girlfriend is asleep on the couch. i think it started as some kind of non- (read: passive) agressive tactic. thats a joke, spock, so laugh it up. she said she was going to lay on the couch & read until i agreed to come to sleep with her. sleep in a literal "shut down mode" sort of way, not in a "secret genital touching" way. i'm not sleepy at all. i'm not, & i've been drinking. i've drank a little, not too much, but some. enough so that i could probably sleep restfully, if given enough exhaustion. restfully in obvious juxtaposition with the usual perscription: take two doses of "you arn't yourself," chase it with "alienationox" & call me in the morning. oh i call out in the morning alright, stifling fucking screams, doc.
so these day's, i'm an open game license d20 boy through to the core. its largly a matter of self-delusion & simplicity: towards the former there is the persistant idea that one day i'll be the new gygaxl; towards the latter i figure everybody knows dnd these days. but every so often white wolf tickles my fancy. not this new post-gehenna lillith requim arc or whatever, but classic ww stuff. v:tm? i don't care what anyone says, its fun as fuck. even kingtycoon, prince of disdainers, gave it the thumbs up for fun. that will always be my backround. & right, i just watched big fish or whatever? thats a changeling game gone wrong! all that banality leeching out of the son. fuck that piece of shit lazy-bones. there were giants, there were witches. buy it & believe it.
today's been all mutal day offish. jenny & i woke up earlier than you might on a lazy day, early enough to go catch harry potter & the prisoner of azkaban at the matinee show. it was pretty snazzy, what with all the ringwraiths. i like dementors! if one could be my neopet, that would be a-okay. also, i like the predestination paradox approach to time travel, but i'd totally forgotten that it was a part of this story- when i read it, i remember being pleased that time travel was handled so well. this, & the next book, at my favorite potter books so far. not that i'm like, the creepy geek who thinks harry potter is the greatest thing ever. i'm the creepy geek who thinks dnd is the greatest thing ever. total distinction.
anyhow, to add to the geekiness cred (which is almost the same as street cred, since a lot of intellegent rapper like to talk about transformers & shit like that) jenny & i have been watching episodes of buffy the vampire slayer season five all day. lazy haze, but real nice. we're on "the body" now, & the disk is skipping, & its driving me fucking crazy. its such a nicely paced episode that this chop-suey version is killing me. its all about the fucking change of camera shots, & where are we with this slice n' diced version? only in hate-land.
hate-land is the empire i fucking carved out from primordeal nothingness.
so i totally am a neighborhood guy. i mean, i went to the deli to buy some tonic water for the gin, right? bussiness as usual. & usually, the guy there exchanges a few pleasentrys with me. you know, "how are you doing tonight?" & its ilk. but today he was all "oh, last time you were here i mischarged you, here let me remedy it by not charging you tonight!" which is cool, & everything. i'm a new yorker. or better yet, a brooklyner. because fuck this huge sprawling metropolis. i've carved out a niche, & named it park slope. excuse me if i'm over-wrought (& i am), but i'm just excited about the whole scene. walking around today was swell as hell.
& the things i know about hell...boy.
i'm like, three years old. & if i don't get exactly what i want, i'll throw a fit. i'm fucking annoyed with myself; tired & drunk arn't enough of an excuse for how cranky i got. its true i hate the futon, but way to express my opinion the worst way possible. way to be a huge loser. my status as an american gigalo is suspended until such time as i show behavior befiting a high-class gigalo. you hear me? revoked! maybe i'll do penance or something. hit myself with a whip or wear sackcloth or i dunno. put on thumbscrews.