I feel you
Like a drug in my veins
I taste you
Like a god on my tongue
so good
so good
and so alive in that moment
Can I bend you out of my head?
Can I break you out of my bones?
Can I cut you out of my flesh?
The way your hips moved with mine
The way WE felt...alive...alive
in that moment
As moving as music
As addictive as cocaine
And as empty as the thought of you makes me now
I want somebody who sees the pointlessness and still keeps their purpose in mind;
I want somebody who has a tortured soul...some of the time;
I want somebody who will either put out for me
or put me out of misery;
Or maybe just put it all to words and make me say, "You know, I never heard it put that way".
Make me say, "What did you just say?"
~Ani Difranco "Asking Too Much"
Wednesday, July 28, 2004
Saturday, July 24, 2004
I took a taxi from LA to Venus in 1985
I was electromagnetically sucked back in to a party going on that night
It was the glory of the 80's with karma drawn up in lines
And two bugle boys models saying 'Baby, it's a freebee. You sure look deprived'
~ Tori Amos from Glory of the 80's
Sadness is unpleasant, slow and steady in it's way, and usually somewhat tolerable. People can live with sadness for years.
Anger is hard, empowering, and invigorating. Some people enjoy the feeling of anger, keeping a little spark kindled inside at all times "just in case".
Disappointment, however, is probably one of the nastiest little forms of pain. Because disappointment means that you hoped for, had faith in, or believed in something or someone and you were let down.
In the story of Pandora's Box, Pandora was given a gift by the gods, a box, and was warned never to open it. Like all fallible creatures unable to resist temptation, her curiosity was too strong, and at last she raised the lid. From the box sprang sin, evil, darkness, hatred, cruelty, despair, and all of the little nasties in the world. Pandora shut the lid as quickly as she could, but it was too late. Overcome with despair, she lifted the lid once more and one last thing was released from the box. And that thing was Hope.
In most traditional interpretations, mankind was given Hope as a comfort and consolation from all of the evils that had been introduced into the world. But this morning as I sit here thinking and feeling the sting of disappointment, I wonder. I wonder if the gods didn't just play a trick on us. I wonder if the one thing that is supposed to help us endure isn't really the nastiest little nasty of all. Because without hope, we would never know disappointment.
A disappointment...What a piteous thing, A hideous thing was tainted by the rest.
~ The Cranberries from Disappointment
I was electromagnetically sucked back in to a party going on that night
It was the glory of the 80's with karma drawn up in lines
And two bugle boys models saying 'Baby, it's a freebee. You sure look deprived'
~ Tori Amos from Glory of the 80's
Sadness is unpleasant, slow and steady in it's way, and usually somewhat tolerable. People can live with sadness for years.
Anger is hard, empowering, and invigorating. Some people enjoy the feeling of anger, keeping a little spark kindled inside at all times "just in case".
Disappointment, however, is probably one of the nastiest little forms of pain. Because disappointment means that you hoped for, had faith in, or believed in something or someone and you were let down.
In the story of Pandora's Box, Pandora was given a gift by the gods, a box, and was warned never to open it. Like all fallible creatures unable to resist temptation, her curiosity was too strong, and at last she raised the lid. From the box sprang sin, evil, darkness, hatred, cruelty, despair, and all of the little nasties in the world. Pandora shut the lid as quickly as she could, but it was too late. Overcome with despair, she lifted the lid once more and one last thing was released from the box. And that thing was Hope.
In most traditional interpretations, mankind was given Hope as a comfort and consolation from all of the evils that had been introduced into the world. But this morning as I sit here thinking and feeling the sting of disappointment, I wonder. I wonder if the gods didn't just play a trick on us. I wonder if the one thing that is supposed to help us endure isn't really the nastiest little nasty of all. Because without hope, we would never know disappointment.
A disappointment...What a piteous thing, A hideous thing was tainted by the rest.
~ The Cranberries from Disappointment
Friday, July 23, 2004
I often forget that there are many people out there who are not so "thick skinned" or as heavily armoured with beliefs and defenses as I. And I carry on in my usual way...and on occasion I break their skin with my words and deeds. I need to be mindful of those sensitive individuals. We all need to be mindful of them.
Thinking further...you know...it's not necessarily the "thin skinned" people that I've often wounded. It's usually the people who get close to me and let their armour down...and me in my haste and thoughtlessness, I fail to realize that the armour has been lowered and their pink skin is bare before me.
For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I will be more mindful in the future.
Thinking further...you know...it's not necessarily the "thin skinned" people that I've often wounded. It's usually the people who get close to me and let their armour down...and me in my haste and thoughtlessness, I fail to realize that the armour has been lowered and their pink skin is bare before me.
For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I will be more mindful in the future.
Thursday, July 22, 2004
Lonely.
Lonely is being sick and not having anyone to fuss over you with chicken noodle soup, Alka Seltzer, or Gatorade.
Lonely is talking to your sister on the phone while you're sick and having her choose to talk to her new love interest rather than you.
Lonely is remembering a time when your place was a hub of activity, a meeting place for friends, and thinking that it's probably never going to be that way again.
Lonely is being sick and not having anyone to fuss over you with chicken noodle soup, Alka Seltzer, or Gatorade.
Lonely is talking to your sister on the phone while you're sick and having her choose to talk to her new love interest rather than you.
Lonely is remembering a time when your place was a hub of activity, a meeting place for friends, and thinking that it's probably never going to be that way again.
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
I'm tired of feeling inadequate.
I am aware of my virtues, but it seems like every time I bring them to the table, they're not enough.
I'm tired of being rejected for what I'm not. Why can't I simply be accepted for what I am?
But I suppose that what I am is not in keeping with the world's measure of what is beautiful and correct.
I feel unwanted and out of place. Like I'm trying to force my puzzle piece.
I suppose one day I'll find something that fits.
But the waiting. The waiting is so exhausting.
I am aware of my virtues, but it seems like every time I bring them to the table, they're not enough.
I'm tired of being rejected for what I'm not. Why can't I simply be accepted for what I am?
But I suppose that what I am is not in keeping with the world's measure of what is beautiful and correct.
I feel unwanted and out of place. Like I'm trying to force my puzzle piece.
I suppose one day I'll find something that fits.
But the waiting. The waiting is so exhausting.
Sunday, July 04, 2004
The Gothic Vampire Monkey
or
When you're a Stranger...
Nikki, Ken, and I went to the Monkey Bar on Friday night to see Gotham Road, a local gothic band. We chose this band, only because it seemed to be the most interesting act around that night. The other bands that I normally see were either out of town or taking the weekend off.
We arrived at the Monkey to find a much different crowd than I'm accustomed to seeing at that particular party place. Indeed, I think that no one other than Ken and the hottie, redheaded bar tender was wearing anything other than black. The number of piercings was well into the hundreds. Fish net stockings and shirts, chains, studs, black lipstick on guys and girls alike, pleather and leather, white face paint, seemingly moth-eaten black t-shirts, evil scowls, and pissed-off attitudes were in evidence everywhere. Needless to say, we DID NOT fit in. :) Knowing that it was a gothic band, Nikki and I wore black shirts...she a black t-shirt and blue jeans and I a black stylish tank top with blue jeans and trendy platform sandals. Ken was the extreme sore thumb in our party, however, as he was wearing khaki shorts, green hemp Adidas sneakers, a red American Eagle looking t-shirt, and a baseball cap.
After getting our first drinks and watching the first opening band, Dimension 13, for a few moments, I suggested that we play darts. The purpose of the dart playing was three-fold: 1) to allow us to become acclimated to the bar by doing something more than standing and staring at the stage 2) to distract us from the noise that was blaring from the amps up front and 3) to allow us to "blend in" and seem as if we belonged. Yeah...well..this only worked to emphasize the difference between us and the rest of the establishment's clientele. We kept bumping into and getting run over by various members of the dark, angry populous due to where we had to stand to throw the darts. Finally, tired of dodging people and fearing getting bitten and sucked dry of our precious coppery blood, we decided to take a seat in the corner of the bar and watch as the second opening act, Pi, took the stage. The first song was called "Appalachian Queen" and that's about all I could make out. They were a bunch of guys making a bad attempt at trying to be TOOL.
At this point Nikki had had 3 beers and a mixed drink, I was at 4 Bud Lights, and Ken was at a big fat Zero on alcoholic beverages, but had slurped down a couple of Cokes. Ken was, of course, sober, I was buzzed, and Nikki was...well...trashed. The more alcohol she drank, the more she started asking questions like, "Why do these people have holes in their shirts? Are they homeless? Should I give them some money?" During Pi's performance she tugged on my shirt, drunkenly told me she loved me, and then, looking at the stage with a puzzled expression on her face, asked, "Why are they so angry?"
Shortly after this, Ken and Nik decided that they were quite tired of blaring guitar and angry vampire boys, so we left. We drove down to Mycroft's but found it closing and then stumbled over to 20th Street, where we drank a bit more, played many fun hits from the 70's, 80's, and 90's on the juke box, and played a couple of games of pool. After that we went to the Omelet Stoppe, dropped Nikki off at her apartment, and then drove home. I passed out on Ken during the drive home. I remember trying to hard to make any form of articulate conversation and failing miserably. I also remember him laughing at me because I was doing the head bob nodding off thing and fighting sleep.
I woke on Saturday in my bed, topless and slightly sweaty, wearing only my white cotton briefs with the word "Angel" printed on the front in blue metalic print and a blue mettalic wing printed on each butt cheek. I was terribly thirsty, yet was without any trace of a real hangover except for some gastrointestinal troubles which I will not discuss in detail on this website.
Fantastic Family and Friend Frivolity on the Fourth...er...Third of July
On Saturday I joined Wayne, Cheryl, Megan, Clint, Christine, and Matt for a day of playing at the park and paddle boating at Coonskin Park. We attempted to enjoy putt-putt at Rock Lake, however were rained out. The parents then decided that they would like to take the little ones to Chucky Cheese's. My insides quivered with memories of the one time that I set foot into that nightmarish house of pain and I visibly grimaced. I then informed my brother of the cramped quarters of that so-called epitome of family fun and the contrasting wide-open spaces of Billy Bob's Wonderland. And so we went to the Huntington Mall and then to Billy Bob's.
The kids enjoyed themselves on all fronts and the parents and Aunt Chris for the sake of the children. :) Many games were played and many tokens were spent. The pizza wasn't half bad. Wayne and I noted that the animatronic bears at Billy Bob's were decidedly evil and menacing looking, like something you might encounter in a fucked up acid trip fun house nightmare, complete with stumpy, hairy male midgets wearing lipstick and rouge, talking snakes with three heads, and flesh eating clowns.
We left the wonder of the Wonderland and returned to Saint Albans, where I showed Wayne, Cheryl, and Clint the Official Ninja Webpage. Ken and Crystal joined my family and me at Kmart parking lot to watch the Saint Albans fireworks display at the River Front Park. As the first pyrotechnic exploded in the sky, the air filled with a penetrating boom that echoed off of the hills and down the river valley. The crowd cheered and I watched my niece’s eyes fill with wonder and then watched her cover her ears and cry. :) She didn't like the loud noise and was convinced that the sparks were going to fall down on top of us. We finally convinced her that the fireworks were not going to hurt us and she managed to enjoy the display. The show lasted for about 45 minutes and it was beautiful, with two teaser finales and a fantastic Grande Finale.
As lovely as the display was after the first few minutes I began to grow a little bored. When I looked at my watch a bit later and realized that a half hour had passed, I felt certain that the end was in sight. But no. I stood through about 10 more minutes and finally, tired, sat on the sidewalk. Then the first false finale happened, I hopped up, ready to head back to the car, and joined in the clapping and cheering. Just as the boats were beginning to honk their horns on the river, a lone golden swirly sparkle filled the sky. A couple more minutes of pretty sparkles ensued and then the second teaser finale. I again, clapped and turned to go to the car...but no. Again, the jokers on the barge in the river sent up a lone booming firework to signify that they were not finished yet. I sat back down, in a strange state of annoyance, surprise, and amusement. Finally, about 40 to 50 pyrotechnics were set off consecutively filling the sky with a lovely array of color and light. And it was over.
Communion with Satan at The Kabuki Rodeo
After the fireworks, Ken and Crystal and I decided to break in the new wet bar that Crystal acquired this week. The story goes like this...Crystal's friend was moving and didn't really have room for the bar. She accepted and now she has a bar. Fascinating, eh?
Anyway, so the bar itself is about 4 and 1/2 feet tall, black leather with golden studs spelling out the initials "K R" on the front. The fellow from whom Crystal obtained the bar did not have the initials K.R. Nope. The guy who owned it before him did, however. Anyway, Crystal's friend had decided to name it for the initials and he and his friends had called it the "Krusty Rubber". Well, Crystal, Ken, and I agreed that she couldn't have something called the Krusty Rubber in her living room. It was too much of a bachelorish, scratch and sniff your balls type of name. So we decided that we must rename it before the evening was done. :)
We started with two shots of vodka apiece and then pulled out the dictionaries. After about a half hour we came up with "Kabuki Rodeo" and "Karma Rising". Well...initially we liked Karma Rising. It sounded a little classy...but as the night wore on Kabuki Rodeo just started sounding better and better. We couldn't think about it and not laugh. Although I'm sure the alcohol had something to do with this, we decided that such a humorous name must win out in the end.
Aside from naming the bar, we played Dirty Minds and Fuck the Dealer, during which Crystal and Ken got fucked and I escaped relatively unscathed. Once we were good and intoxicated, we played drunken Twister, attempted Badminton in the dark at 3 in the morning, and ended with glow-in-the-dark Ouija. During our attempt at communing with Satan, we put on creepy Halloween music and lit candles. Strangely enough, the planchette didn't move unless we pushed it.
Disappointed at our failure to contact the spirits, we put the Ouija board away and passed out. About 2 hours later, I woke to the sound of Crystal screaming. I jumped up from the guest room bed and paused in the hallway. After a moment I discovered that the scream was coming from the living room. I ran in and found Crystal standing, screaming hysterically in the doorway between the living room and dining room and followed her horrified gaze to Baciana's pool. There I found Ken lying naked and face down in the doggie's pool, his head floating in the pool in a pool of his own blood. At that moment, I violently lost the contents of my stomach (alcohol, cranberry juice, and Doritos) all over Crystal's red leather chair. I fell to my knees and looked over to find Baciana nibbling on Ken's toes. She had already eaten one digit entirely and her jowls were covered in blood as she greedily gobbled and growled. A hot wave rushed over my entire body and I felt my eyesight fading as my eyes made their way up Ken's body. I found myself focusing on the muscle tone of his thighs and thought numbly, "Yeah...he said he had been working out." I forced my eyes upward and a rush of cold fear hit me like a fist. There, protruding from his rectum, was the glow-in-the-dark planchette from my Ouija board game. The small tip had been forced into Ken's anus and only the large top half of the triangle was visible. There were tiny streams of blood dripping down his lily-white ass cheeks. The word "Ouija" printed on the large end of the planchette winked at me from atop its perch on Ken's ass, seemingly gloating over the sadistic slaughter. And I could only think...I'm next! And then I woke up. :)
The Fourth of July 2004
George W. is going to be in Charleston today. Um...yeah. I think I'll pass. And the fireworks always suck in Charleston now.
So now I'm going to find something to do today. I've had a relaxing morning of listening to my CDs and writing. I hope that you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
I hope that you all enjoy your Independence Day celebrations in clean, fun ways. Don't drink and drive, Click it or Ticket, and wear a condom. Shawn...leave Chris's asshole alone.
And whatever else you do, enjoy the fact that we're a mostly free country. True, we have a dipshit as president right now who is slowly trying to piss off the entire world, but it could be worse. Just remember to fucking vote next election people!!!!!
or
When you're a Stranger...
Nikki, Ken, and I went to the Monkey Bar on Friday night to see Gotham Road, a local gothic band. We chose this band, only because it seemed to be the most interesting act around that night. The other bands that I normally see were either out of town or taking the weekend off.
We arrived at the Monkey to find a much different crowd than I'm accustomed to seeing at that particular party place. Indeed, I think that no one other than Ken and the hottie, redheaded bar tender was wearing anything other than black. The number of piercings was well into the hundreds. Fish net stockings and shirts, chains, studs, black lipstick on guys and girls alike, pleather and leather, white face paint, seemingly moth-eaten black t-shirts, evil scowls, and pissed-off attitudes were in evidence everywhere. Needless to say, we DID NOT fit in. :) Knowing that it was a gothic band, Nikki and I wore black shirts...she a black t-shirt and blue jeans and I a black stylish tank top with blue jeans and trendy platform sandals. Ken was the extreme sore thumb in our party, however, as he was wearing khaki shorts, green hemp Adidas sneakers, a red American Eagle looking t-shirt, and a baseball cap.
After getting our first drinks and watching the first opening band, Dimension 13, for a few moments, I suggested that we play darts. The purpose of the dart playing was three-fold: 1) to allow us to become acclimated to the bar by doing something more than standing and staring at the stage 2) to distract us from the noise that was blaring from the amps up front and 3) to allow us to "blend in" and seem as if we belonged. Yeah...well..this only worked to emphasize the difference between us and the rest of the establishment's clientele. We kept bumping into and getting run over by various members of the dark, angry populous due to where we had to stand to throw the darts. Finally, tired of dodging people and fearing getting bitten and sucked dry of our precious coppery blood, we decided to take a seat in the corner of the bar and watch as the second opening act, Pi, took the stage. The first song was called "Appalachian Queen" and that's about all I could make out. They were a bunch of guys making a bad attempt at trying to be TOOL.
At this point Nikki had had 3 beers and a mixed drink, I was at 4 Bud Lights, and Ken was at a big fat Zero on alcoholic beverages, but had slurped down a couple of Cokes. Ken was, of course, sober, I was buzzed, and Nikki was...well...trashed. The more alcohol she drank, the more she started asking questions like, "Why do these people have holes in their shirts? Are they homeless? Should I give them some money?" During Pi's performance she tugged on my shirt, drunkenly told me she loved me, and then, looking at the stage with a puzzled expression on her face, asked, "Why are they so angry?"
Shortly after this, Ken and Nik decided that they were quite tired of blaring guitar and angry vampire boys, so we left. We drove down to Mycroft's but found it closing and then stumbled over to 20th Street, where we drank a bit more, played many fun hits from the 70's, 80's, and 90's on the juke box, and played a couple of games of pool. After that we went to the Omelet Stoppe, dropped Nikki off at her apartment, and then drove home. I passed out on Ken during the drive home. I remember trying to hard to make any form of articulate conversation and failing miserably. I also remember him laughing at me because I was doing the head bob nodding off thing and fighting sleep.
I woke on Saturday in my bed, topless and slightly sweaty, wearing only my white cotton briefs with the word "Angel" printed on the front in blue metalic print and a blue mettalic wing printed on each butt cheek. I was terribly thirsty, yet was without any trace of a real hangover except for some gastrointestinal troubles which I will not discuss in detail on this website.
Fantastic Family and Friend Frivolity on the Fourth...er...Third of July
On Saturday I joined Wayne, Cheryl, Megan, Clint, Christine, and Matt for a day of playing at the park and paddle boating at Coonskin Park. We attempted to enjoy putt-putt at Rock Lake, however were rained out. The parents then decided that they would like to take the little ones to Chucky Cheese's. My insides quivered with memories of the one time that I set foot into that nightmarish house of pain and I visibly grimaced. I then informed my brother of the cramped quarters of that so-called epitome of family fun and the contrasting wide-open spaces of Billy Bob's Wonderland. And so we went to the Huntington Mall and then to Billy Bob's.
The kids enjoyed themselves on all fronts and the parents and Aunt Chris for the sake of the children. :) Many games were played and many tokens were spent. The pizza wasn't half bad. Wayne and I noted that the animatronic bears at Billy Bob's were decidedly evil and menacing looking, like something you might encounter in a fucked up acid trip fun house nightmare, complete with stumpy, hairy male midgets wearing lipstick and rouge, talking snakes with three heads, and flesh eating clowns.
We left the wonder of the Wonderland and returned to Saint Albans, where I showed Wayne, Cheryl, and Clint the Official Ninja Webpage. Ken and Crystal joined my family and me at Kmart parking lot to watch the Saint Albans fireworks display at the River Front Park. As the first pyrotechnic exploded in the sky, the air filled with a penetrating boom that echoed off of the hills and down the river valley. The crowd cheered and I watched my niece’s eyes fill with wonder and then watched her cover her ears and cry. :) She didn't like the loud noise and was convinced that the sparks were going to fall down on top of us. We finally convinced her that the fireworks were not going to hurt us and she managed to enjoy the display. The show lasted for about 45 minutes and it was beautiful, with two teaser finales and a fantastic Grande Finale.
As lovely as the display was after the first few minutes I began to grow a little bored. When I looked at my watch a bit later and realized that a half hour had passed, I felt certain that the end was in sight. But no. I stood through about 10 more minutes and finally, tired, sat on the sidewalk. Then the first false finale happened, I hopped up, ready to head back to the car, and joined in the clapping and cheering. Just as the boats were beginning to honk their horns on the river, a lone golden swirly sparkle filled the sky. A couple more minutes of pretty sparkles ensued and then the second teaser finale. I again, clapped and turned to go to the car...but no. Again, the jokers on the barge in the river sent up a lone booming firework to signify that they were not finished yet. I sat back down, in a strange state of annoyance, surprise, and amusement. Finally, about 40 to 50 pyrotechnics were set off consecutively filling the sky with a lovely array of color and light. And it was over.
Communion with Satan at The Kabuki Rodeo
After the fireworks, Ken and Crystal and I decided to break in the new wet bar that Crystal acquired this week. The story goes like this...Crystal's friend was moving and didn't really have room for the bar. She accepted and now she has a bar. Fascinating, eh?
Anyway, so the bar itself is about 4 and 1/2 feet tall, black leather with golden studs spelling out the initials "K R" on the front. The fellow from whom Crystal obtained the bar did not have the initials K.R. Nope. The guy who owned it before him did, however. Anyway, Crystal's friend had decided to name it for the initials and he and his friends had called it the "Krusty Rubber". Well, Crystal, Ken, and I agreed that she couldn't have something called the Krusty Rubber in her living room. It was too much of a bachelorish, scratch and sniff your balls type of name. So we decided that we must rename it before the evening was done. :)
We started with two shots of vodka apiece and then pulled out the dictionaries. After about a half hour we came up with "Kabuki Rodeo" and "Karma Rising". Well...initially we liked Karma Rising. It sounded a little classy...but as the night wore on Kabuki Rodeo just started sounding better and better. We couldn't think about it and not laugh. Although I'm sure the alcohol had something to do with this, we decided that such a humorous name must win out in the end.
Aside from naming the bar, we played Dirty Minds and Fuck the Dealer, during which Crystal and Ken got fucked and I escaped relatively unscathed. Once we were good and intoxicated, we played drunken Twister, attempted Badminton in the dark at 3 in the morning, and ended with glow-in-the-dark Ouija. During our attempt at communing with Satan, we put on creepy Halloween music and lit candles. Strangely enough, the planchette didn't move unless we pushed it.
Disappointed at our failure to contact the spirits, we put the Ouija board away and passed out. About 2 hours later, I woke to the sound of Crystal screaming. I jumped up from the guest room bed and paused in the hallway. After a moment I discovered that the scream was coming from the living room. I ran in and found Crystal standing, screaming hysterically in the doorway between the living room and dining room and followed her horrified gaze to Baciana's pool. There I found Ken lying naked and face down in the doggie's pool, his head floating in the pool in a pool of his own blood. At that moment, I violently lost the contents of my stomach (alcohol, cranberry juice, and Doritos) all over Crystal's red leather chair. I fell to my knees and looked over to find Baciana nibbling on Ken's toes. She had already eaten one digit entirely and her jowls were covered in blood as she greedily gobbled and growled. A hot wave rushed over my entire body and I felt my eyesight fading as my eyes made their way up Ken's body. I found myself focusing on the muscle tone of his thighs and thought numbly, "Yeah...he said he had been working out." I forced my eyes upward and a rush of cold fear hit me like a fist. There, protruding from his rectum, was the glow-in-the-dark planchette from my Ouija board game. The small tip had been forced into Ken's anus and only the large top half of the triangle was visible. There were tiny streams of blood dripping down his lily-white ass cheeks. The word "Ouija" printed on the large end of the planchette winked at me from atop its perch on Ken's ass, seemingly gloating over the sadistic slaughter. And I could only think...I'm next! And then I woke up. :)
The Fourth of July 2004
George W. is going to be in Charleston today. Um...yeah. I think I'll pass. And the fireworks always suck in Charleston now.
So now I'm going to find something to do today. I've had a relaxing morning of listening to my CDs and writing. I hope that you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.
I hope that you all enjoy your Independence Day celebrations in clean, fun ways. Don't drink and drive, Click it or Ticket, and wear a condom. Shawn...leave Chris's asshole alone.
And whatever else you do, enjoy the fact that we're a mostly free country. True, we have a dipshit as president right now who is slowly trying to piss off the entire world, but it could be worse. Just remember to fucking vote next election people!!!!!
Friday, July 02, 2004
Tuesdays with Brian
So I'm taking guitar lessons again from a guy named Brian Henderson. Some of you know him. You went to high school with him. He seems to be a fairly decent teacher, which is very fortunate for me. What is unfortunate is that he is the lead guitarist for a band called Split Nixon and is rather busy.
It's been difficult the past few weeks to hold our lessons at the agreed upon time and it's getting somewhat frustrating. I have considered finding another instructor, however last night he managed to teach me the chords and how to play a bit of "Every Rose Has It's Thorn" by Poison and part of "Back in Black" by AC/DC. (Keep in mind that what I play may not sound much like either tune, however at least I am playing the correct chord progressions.) So yeah...I guess I'll keep him for a bit.
Sex and the City
I've watched a couple of episodes of Sex and the City. I never got interested in it before, probably because I couldn't relate to the plight of the protagonists. However, I can now. Granted I am not a fabulous 30 or 40 something, career woman in New York...but here I am, a loving, compassionate, kind, intelligent, responsible, creative, witty, and pretty girl who has a strong work ethic and who holds high moral standards...and I'm unattached. Does this make any sense really? Why aren't the good guys beating down my door? Is it the sarcasm? I suppose I could turn it down a little. Is it the weight? Damn. I'm not THAT fat people! :) I still look good naked, damn it, and that's what counts! :) So what is it?
I feel I'm ready now...not for a serious relationship, but I wouldn't mind dating people regularly. And having sex regularly. :)
But seriously, I was pondering the question of a woman like myself having sex like a man. Could I possibly function in that way? I don't mean go and whore myself out to every Tom, Dick, and Harry that so much as looks twice my way. I mean be selective and choosey, but when I find someone I'm attracted to...why can't I have sex simply for sex sake?
Hmmm...but then enters the whole morals thing. Sex is something one should never do carelessly due to the risk of creating life. And sex has never been a casual thing for me and I'm sure I couldn't detach myself from it in that way. Or could I? And if I did would my friends still respect me? Probably not. Would I still respect me? Probably not.
So that answers that, now doesn't it?
Waltzing Back Into My Life
Nikki moved to Barboursville while I was at the beach. She and I are now back in each other's lives and it feels like we never stopped hanging out. Very interesting how with some people, things never get weird. She and I are going out tonight to see a band, either here in Charleston or in Huntington. I think we're going to the Monkey...there's a band called Gotham Road that I'd like to see. It should be a fun night of punkish gothic music for all!
Ken is also in town. I'm gonna call him and see what his skinny Waisian ass is doing.
Until next time!
So I'm taking guitar lessons again from a guy named Brian Henderson. Some of you know him. You went to high school with him. He seems to be a fairly decent teacher, which is very fortunate for me. What is unfortunate is that he is the lead guitarist for a band called Split Nixon and is rather busy.
It's been difficult the past few weeks to hold our lessons at the agreed upon time and it's getting somewhat frustrating. I have considered finding another instructor, however last night he managed to teach me the chords and how to play a bit of "Every Rose Has It's Thorn" by Poison and part of "Back in Black" by AC/DC. (Keep in mind that what I play may not sound much like either tune, however at least I am playing the correct chord progressions.) So yeah...I guess I'll keep him for a bit.
Sex and the City
I've watched a couple of episodes of Sex and the City. I never got interested in it before, probably because I couldn't relate to the plight of the protagonists. However, I can now. Granted I am not a fabulous 30 or 40 something, career woman in New York...but here I am, a loving, compassionate, kind, intelligent, responsible, creative, witty, and pretty girl who has a strong work ethic and who holds high moral standards...and I'm unattached. Does this make any sense really? Why aren't the good guys beating down my door? Is it the sarcasm? I suppose I could turn it down a little. Is it the weight? Damn. I'm not THAT fat people! :) I still look good naked, damn it, and that's what counts! :) So what is it?
I feel I'm ready now...not for a serious relationship, but I wouldn't mind dating people regularly. And having sex regularly. :)
But seriously, I was pondering the question of a woman like myself having sex like a man. Could I possibly function in that way? I don't mean go and whore myself out to every Tom, Dick, and Harry that so much as looks twice my way. I mean be selective and choosey, but when I find someone I'm attracted to...why can't I have sex simply for sex sake?
Hmmm...but then enters the whole morals thing. Sex is something one should never do carelessly due to the risk of creating life. And sex has never been a casual thing for me and I'm sure I couldn't detach myself from it in that way. Or could I? And if I did would my friends still respect me? Probably not. Would I still respect me? Probably not.
So that answers that, now doesn't it?
Waltzing Back Into My Life
Nikki moved to Barboursville while I was at the beach. She and I are now back in each other's lives and it feels like we never stopped hanging out. Very interesting how with some people, things never get weird. She and I are going out tonight to see a band, either here in Charleston or in Huntington. I think we're going to the Monkey...there's a band called Gotham Road that I'd like to see. It should be a fun night of punkish gothic music for all!
Ken is also in town. I'm gonna call him and see what his skinny Waisian ass is doing.
Until next time!
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