We’ve definitely made some progress. Her pronunciation has definitely improved, as has her posture. But her ability in maths still leaves something to be desired, and her table manors have quite a ways to go. I don’t know where exactly she came of the conviction that sticking one’s face directly into the bowl is acceptable at the dinner table, and she seems hopelessly confused as to the difference between diner fork, salad for and dessert fork. And she seems quite skeptical of the bowtie.
I said I was good, I never said I was a miracle worker. These things do take time.
Also, she now smells mildly of watermelon scented shampoo.
White. Personality. I try not to make generalizations about my own personality, being of the opinion that that’s something that other people are better qualified to make statements on. There are as many people who think I am an incredibly sweet, caring and compassionate human being as who think I am an insufferable prick with nothing more than his own interest at heart. I’d hope that the people in the first camp are right, and I’d like to think that a lot of it boils down to understanding my sarcasm, but I’m terrified of the possibility that I might be as bad as the worst opinions of me.
I will probably go deaf because of how loud I listen to music when I’m by myself. I already have trouble hearing people a lot of the time. Okay, so that sounds like 16yearold myspace bullshit. Let’s go with, I am constantly overcome with anxiety. About fucking everything.
I have a fascination with the Beat Generation that probably stopped being cool like two decades ago, and probably makes me a pathetic fucking poseur.
No matter how grief-stricken I am, no matter how incredibly sad, including the deaths of friends and loved ones, nothing makes me cry, except for a few episodes of This American Life and a few particular movies (including Big Fish and Man On The Moon). I think it might be because it’s easier to compartmentalize and dissect simulated, refined, distilled grief than dealing with it when it’s actually relevant.
Bonus round. I worry I drink too much. I’m kinda drunk right now. I’ve been drinking four three or four days strait. I don’t think that’s too big a problem, but I’m not sure.
Black… I really enjoy their company?
Yeah. That’s a fucking copout.
How about, I really, really enjoy talking to them, and feel at this point like I could talk to them about anything, or say anything to them. I can make jokes about just about anything, and get a good response. And that I value that fact enough that I can forgo basically anything further and be at least contended with our friendship. As long as I can be so honest with them, and as long as I can make them smile.
Whatever. I’ve been awake too long.
Also, I really like Murder City Devils, and that conversation ends there.
Kinda complicated, since there was a lot of moving involved in my childhood.
In LaGrange, GA, I’m kinda convinced that there were more churches than people.
There was a skate rink in that city, where they’d have free skating on a couple of days of the week and then lock you in and make you learn about CHRIST JESUS.
My favorite part of that town was the comic book shop. The selection was really wide, the owner was extremely nice, and he reminded me just a wee bit of the Comic Book Guy from The Simpsons, except not a prick.
As for El Paso…
It’s one of the safest cities in America, despite being on the border of one of the most violent cities in the world.
A visit to the city of El Paso inspired the novel The Road. I think if you visit and look around, it kinda makes sense.
El Paso is simultaneously the home to several of my closest friends, and the most depressing place I’ve ever been in my entire fucking life.
Grey: While kinda upset, and much moreso drunk, I made a sock monkey and named it Winslow.
I like really long winded conversation and lying in bed listening to music.
1. I wore a shitload of flannel and striped stuff.
2. Until I was about 11, my favorite game basically consisted of yelling that a bomb was about to go off, and then jumping off of things. As result, my body was pretty constantly covered in bruises.
3. One summer, my friend Bryant stood in his front yard with a baseball bat and whacked bees for hours on end. As cruel as it was to the bees, the fact that I’m allergic to them made me mind a lot less.
4. I went to Planet Hollywood once when I was 7 or 8 and thought it was the coolest shit ever.
5. When I was 11 or 12, right after Christmas, my family stayed in a really shitty hotel in Philadelphia. A few years later, I had a conversation with a man named Kevin, wherein he described what he had imagined Hell looking like as a child, and it matched the hotel we stayed in completely.
6. I was really good friends with a brother and sister named Sam and Katie. I haven’t talked to Sam since, and the one time I talked to Katie, after that, she called me a cunt for saying I don’t like Ween. No communication since.
7. When I was a child, I almost never cried. I would always just wimper and hide.
8 (BONUS). Some of my earliest memories are of my mother singing Swing Low, Sweet Charriot to me.
Purple: 10 facts about my room. Blue: 9 facts about my family. Green: 8 facts about my body Yellow: 7 facts about my childhood Orange: 6 facts about my home town. Red: 5 facts about my first bestfriend(s). Pink: 4 facts about my parents. White: 3 facts about my personality. Grey: 2 facts about my favourite things. Black: 1 fact about the person I like.
oooh this looks fun i’m bored let’s do it guyz~~
I don’t do this overly personal bullshit enough. Do it.
Please don’t let the high point of my day be spending two minutes trying to explain to a stoned looking sorority chick in a massive SUV that no, she can’t park in the fucking handicapped parking spot, even if she’s just going to be in the store for a minute.
I was told that I had to wait by the door for a package to be delivered to me. If I didn’t wait by the door, the package would be taken to the post office. I had to be there to sign for it. So I waited by the door all day, full of anticipation. But for what?
MYSTERIOUS! AND WHERE DID IT COME FROM?
Royal Mail? A PACKAGE FROM ENGLAND?
BUT WHAT COULD IT BE?
ANOTHER PACKAGE INSIDE THE FIRST? WHAT IS THIS MATRYOSHKA PACKAGING NONSENSE? HOW MUCH DEEPER DOES THIS GO?
Oh. Nevermind. They tried to deliver it before and I forgot to pick it up. This must be something really important, like some ultra secret state documents from the Queen. Maybe this package contained my invitation to the royal wedding. That would be embarrassing.
Some sort of lamb fetus? I suppose if it’s from the U.K. I ought to spell it foetus.
A MOOMIN? I thought they were extinct. What was it doing in England? Moomins are Finish. Did it get lost on holiday?
What a peculiar afternoon we’ve had, Moomin. And I need a shave. I look silly.
What is with this trend in current popular music of taking the choruses of good songs and somehow making them sound shitty?
Interpolating hooks and choruses from other popular songs always kind of seemed to me like the next logical progression from simply sampling beats and melodies.
It’s something that bothers me more than I think it should. A lot of music, and a lot of art in general borrows themes and pieces from other work, and I like being able to take pieces from other things and reinterpret them, play with their context.
It probably bothers me because more often than not, especially with the kind of music you’re referring to seems, more than anything to be extremely lazy. Instead of bothering to come up with something new of their own, they just grab something that’s already popular, and just tacking it onto their own music. Without much effort on their own part, they get a nice, recognizable hook.
I’m sure there’re folks who have the ability to do this well, in the context we’re referring to, but no names come to mind off the top of my head. Then again, you don’t typically think of the men out there who offer candy to children in the park and aren’t pedos. There are people who’re just that nice, but that’s not what the action is synonymous with.
Perhaps the musicians who do it think about it in different terms. Maybe to them, especially with the examples you cited, they feel like they’re paying homage to a particular piece of music that inspired them. But it always feels a bit too cynical for that.
What makes it stranger for me is that increasingly, I have the impression that popular music is kinda moving towards compacting itself entirely into one large homogenous mass, where every single song is smashed together into one dull, fluffy piece, devoid of whatever meaning it might have had.
Perhaps it’s more irritating because of personal attachments you have to the original song, which feels kinda overshadowed in popularity by the piece that cynically borrows from it.
One of my favorites: For reasons that cannot be explained, cats can suddenly read at a twelfth-grade level. They can’t talk and they can’t write, but they can read silently and understand the text. Many cats love this new skill, because they now have something to do all day while they lay around the house; however, a few cats become depressed, because reading forces them to realize the limitations of their existence (not to mention the utter frustration of being unable to express themselves).
This being the case, do you think the average cat would enjoy Garfield, or would cats find this cartoon to be an insulting caricature?
That’s an awful lot of setup for a very simple question. So.
Assuming cats understand the English language well enough to read 12th grade level texts, what’s suggesting they’d even get so bored and frustrated that they’d even bother with Garfield, considering how many other, more appropriate texts there are available.
But were they to encounter Garfield, they would probably….
PISS ON IT. THEY PISSED ON MY RECORD COLLECTION. THEY WILL PISS ON EVERYTHING.
What are you expecting people to ask you? I've always thought that the whole Ask feature on Tumblr was kind of pointless, especially since most of the questions asked are trite and/or horribly dull.
I’m bored and being lazy, and was hoping for someone to ask me something funny or strange. It’s either that or go back to playing with the large pile of metal rods I found near the dumpster a few days ago, and picked up without much though.
Describe someone who you've been in contact with/met recently who you find interesting, and why?
Well, it’s pretty rare for me to meet new people, really, as I’m extremely shy and anxious most of the time, and have a bit of a stammer on occasion. And I tend to do/say dumb things when I’m nervous, which is most of the time.
On a whim, I struck up a conversation with a couple of folks waiting for the bus on Saturday, going to a show. And then ran into them again at said show and talked to them a bit more. They both had really cool jobs and hobbies, and showed me a picture of their dog who was really cute and friendly looking. And then I ran into them again waiting for the bus to come take me home, and we played Scrabble. That was pretty cool. And one of them had an absolutely terrific beard.
The last person I’d met who I’ve got distinct memories of was a couple months ago. I don’t talk to them much at this point, really. Oh well. It happens, I suppose.
More generally, I think just about everyone is interesting. I just wish I could open my mouth without saying something dumb back to them.
" UGH WHAT WILL YOU REALLY? You’re like a real grown-up and shit now."
WELL I MEAN IT’S NOT FOR LACK OF FUCKING TRYING. I bought a couple of water pistols today, after buying a wine rack, in the hopes that I could somehow counter the decidedly adult purchase of a wine rack.
Kinda, weird anonymous person or people. It’s kinda been a bit of a mixed bag, really.
Some of it’s been quite a bit of fun. A lot of it, actually. But there’s also been some big moments of complete bordom. Long listlessness days when nothing particularly interesting happens, and I end up buying a sixpack and sitting around watching TV until I fall asleep. Days when no one’ll answer the phone to go do things, and I don’t have the focus, motivation, energy to draw or write.
A few disappointments. Things not working out as I’d hoped, plans falling through, things just not working out at all. But that’s kinda inevitable, isn’t it? It’s a pretty frequent occurrence, and I’m mostly used to it at this point, I think. I do a lot of stupid things.
Been practicing guitar a bit more than usual, but that’s usually after drinking, so I doubt I’m getting any better.
There’ve been some good days though.
I’ll be 22 in a month. I guess that’s something to look forward to. I’ve never really been too keen on birthdays. I doubt anyone will really pay much head to it, as per usual. I think I’d like to spend the day sitting in a kiddy pool wearing aviators and drinking cheap wine.
I’m doing summer school, and I’m actually pretty excited about the class. And I’ve got a few projects I’m kinda working on. We’ll see how well that works out.