Sure, Why Not?

new years resolutions of a sort.

2011-01-06T18:01:00.002-05:00

Most of my resolution like thoughts are less things to do and more things to remember.

That said, I also have a couple of things I'm going to actually get done this year, or try to.

1. Set aside money, gather required documents, and sign up for, a class to get my captains license.

2. Get my passport.

3. Learn to play the guitar.

I consider these to be quite reasonable goals for the year. Mostly things I've started and procrastinated or got side tracked from on multiple occasions. so this year I'm writing them down so I can't say I forgot.

i got real bored and wrote this

2010-12-04T09:07:00.001-05:00

This is NOT a finished story. It is a rough draft.

Ophelia was an unfortunate looking girl. At seventeen her stout figure bulged over the tops of her low-cut skinny jeans and above her mannish chest and shoulders was a too short neck topped by a head whose best feature was a pair of small blue eyes that peered out of what could have been a squarish wad of dough with a bad case of monkeypox. (which can be contracted of course by being shat on by a baboon) stringy blonde hair and and long nicotine stained nails completed the picture.
Had Ophelia been a kind, talented, or even marginally interesting girl one might have been more inclined to forgive her glaringly unpleasant appearance. She was however, none of those things. Ophelia was a bland and stupid fangirl with a shrill voice and an obsessive lust for all things twilight. Before the rise of twilight it was of course harry potter. Her devotion to which reached a point so extreme that she broke her leg when she jumped out of a window, broom in hand roughly two seconds after having thrown a gold painted golf ball out of the same window.
When the twilight saga became popular Hogwarts was pushed aside in favor of more realistic persuits. Sparkly vampires.
Ophelia was on a mission. She was going to find herself a vampire and love him forever. Naturally she began this search at her high school. After several goth kids reported her for dragging them outside and trying to tear their shirts off she had to find a new venue to search.
After school and on weekends she would roam the city park stopping every attractive man she saw and asking them if they were vampires. None of them were. Or at least the weren’t admitting it. Ophelia however was like a pitt-bull with the mailman’s leg it it’s teeth. She would not quit until she found what she was searching for.
Eventually, she found him. She had gotten out of school early that day. Some sort of teachers workshop. As usual she went hunting for her dream man. It was early on a Wednesday afternoon and the park was nearly empty. Ophelia wandered aimlessly past the benches along the path thinking about the wedding she and her wonderful sensitive vampire would have once she found him. There would be glitter everywhere so that he and his vampire friends wouldn’t feel self conscious.
Lawrence watched her stump along the the path from the shadows of a large oak tree. His long arms draped casually over a low-hanging branch, dark eyes alert and intelligent, classically handsome features complemented by a perfectly tailored deep blue suit.
As Ophelia approached he could see that her ill-fitting t-shirt displayed and elaborate scene from the twilight movies featuring edward cullen looking pensive. Before she could spot him on her own Lawrence stepped onto the path directly in front of her. Ophelias piggy eyes widened in suprise and she stopped in her tracks. For a moment she just stood there gazing up at him in adoration. Then she shook herself and asked for probably the millionth time,
“are you a vampire?”
Lawrence looked down at her and smiled.
“Yes, I am. Come with me and I’ll make all your dreams reality.”
Ophelia had a flash of self preservation and looked doubtful for a moment.
“how do I know you’re for real? Show me the sparkling skin first. “
Lawrence reached up with both hands and petulantly tore open his shirt. Buttons flew in all directions and Ophelia was nearly blinded by his sparkling pasty white torso. He put out his hand and she took it. Together they walked out of the park and into the less savory part of town. When they arrived at a small seedy motel Ophelia once again balked and began to whine.
“This place is ugly and smells bad”
Lawrence let go of her hand.
“Then go. Clearly you don’t love me as I love you.”
“No no no!” said Ophelia, grabbing his hand back, “This place is great.”
“Good, now let’s go to my room.” He led her to the door at the end of the row. Ophelia noted with pleasure that it was nice and close to the snack machines.
Ophelia entered the room first. It was dark and as her eyes adjusted she heard movement from across the room. She found the light switch and turned it on. To her horror there were four more men sitting in a semi circle in the room, staring intently at her. She turned to run back out the door but Lawrence blocked her way. He grinned and looked over her shoulder to the other men.
“Hey guys! I brought dinner!”
Ophelia screamed as he picked her up and threw her onto the bed and the others moved toward her.
Later, when Ophelia was no longer Ophelia but a dead, dried and violated husk, Lawrence and his brothers drew straws to see who would take the can of spray glitter and go hunting for their next meal.

2010-06-13T16:58:00.002-04:00

a photo of a drawing of the latest version of a tattoo i really want to get sometime in the near future.

Lily

2010-04-08T14:45:00.001-04:00

The goofy lookin, but awesome scow schooner Lily.

last august.

posted because I like this picture.

I think I know him...

2010-04-07T09:23:00.002-04:00

I remember making this, the motions, the paper, the feel of the pen. He started as an accident, a blob.

I can't recall when, or why.

But every time I have ever looked at this picture, he looks familiar.

this chair

2010-01-14T12:55:00.002-05:00

this chair.

is sucking my motivation out my back.

is like a big red toothless mouth, gumming me to death.

is less morbidly, like a big squashy poppy flower.

is not actually all that comfy, but i still don't want to get out of it.

is probably really bad for pretty much every joint in my body.

is causing me to sit in such a way that my belt tries to control the mouse on my laptop.

is covered in dog hair.

is almost big enough for two.

is making me wish there was someone here to try to fit into it with me.

is like a futon chasing it's tail.

brain bit.

2010-01-04T23:23:00.002-05:00

It's easier to climb a mountain than it is to burrow through it.

Unless of course the mountain is an illusion in the first place. In which case just go around because it's probably hiding a big-ass hole in the ground.

I recommend poking it with a stick first. Just to see which one it is.

an old poem i found.

2009-12-14T11:48:00.003-05:00

I was helping my mom clean out some stuff in the basement and found a pile of my writing and general schoolwork from elementary school and high school. Most of it was absolute crap that I don't even remember. Lots of really terrible poetry. Anyway, at some point I had apparently written this. I thought it was funny so here it is. Keep in mind, based on the rest of the contents of the notebook it was in. I wrote this when I was 14.

There once was a frog,

a frog in his prime.

Who loved a young horsefly,

on whom his uncle would dine.

She fluttered about,

as he sang her a song.

He sat on a mushroom,

and sang the day long.

Each night as they parted,

and bid their farewells.

She flew to an oak tree,

and he to his well.

One night they were late,

and tragedy struck.

The frog's uncle awakened,

and things went amuck.

Their love was discovered,

their plans blown to bits.

The young froggy's uncle,

had eaten the winged miss!

The frog was depressed,

his uncle was pleased.

After a week young froggy got mad,

he turned on his uncle and his throat he squeezed.

But both frogs soon died,

as quickly as that.

They each were gulped down,

by two prowling cats.

(each character in this story has died,

so you'll never know, if ever i lied.)

I'd like to add that I drew an illustration for this, and if I find it I will post it. Though I'm really not sure which came first.

nother weird dream.

2009-11-03T08:19:00.002-05:00

the basics of it.

Gay army guy chasing me. Thought he was after my fruit by the foot that contained pot.

Androids with trash bags cleaning an enormous empty room.

A man's head on a little yellow bird body with wheels trying to fly by rolling around a ramp that was attached to a cruise ship/airplane. He fell off and into one of the trashbags. Then the cruise-plane turned into paper.

Tv makes my brain weird.

more random thoughts.

2009-04-19T14:52:00.002-04:00

last spring i was sitting in subway thinking. i had a pen but no paper. so i wrote down the little bits of things that popped into my head on my leg.

Left leg:

Bent and taped glasses were an homage to forgetfulness.

Lopsidedly fat.

connections, chain-link, maker?

Hand prints on a window.

People hunting people, and mounting their tats. Future very strict. Religious.

Rippling Shadows.

Everyone pretended not to notice but their eyes would betray them...flicking...as they talked.

A balding woman hair carefully fluffed to cover the maximum amount of scalp.

The awkwardly tall man, he always hit his head on the low hanging lights, as well as the higher slung fans in the entry-way.

Right Leg:

His breath fogged the glass as he pressed close peering...to select the tastiest biggest cookie. If not for the barrier he'd have picked up and inspected each one before deciding.

Giggling about man-panties

No puppy punting!

Counting lines to the transformer outside his window.

An abundance of plaid

A chest high wall can be an amusing thing.

The wire bristles tore through the skin leaving jagged red lines sketched across the smooth surface.

Nothing more tacky than a plaid polo shirt in pastel hues.

Upon seeing spots of Cayenne pepper on a piece of pork: oh my god! is that pig pox!?

that is all.

"food"

2009-02-16T13:52:00.003-05:00

As i may have mentioned, I had my wisdom teeth removed a few days ago. I'm getting pretty sick of eating mush.

Here's what i have been basically living on for the last few days:

In a blender.

two bananas

2-3 scoops of vanilla ice cream

about one cup of strawberry yogurt

milk to preffered thickness

chocolate syrup to taste

Yummy stuff. Gonna go have another one now.

blog features.

2009-02-14T23:59:00.002-05:00

I just now discovered the random question feature on my blog profile. While it's an awesome feature and an excellent way to get people to express their oddness in their profile when they can't think what to say about themselves, it would, I think be much more entertaining and useful if it allowed multiple random questions and corresponding answers to be displayed at once. much more fun i think.

On a completely different topic, Max Payne is a fairly stupid movie. It has it's moments as most movies will, but on a whole, fairly pointless. I personally have never played the video game, but I'm fairly confident that it didn't translate well onto the big screen. Unless the game is equally stupid, in which case, why the hell make it into a movie?

Once again with the topic switch, I got my wisdom teeth removed the other day. All at the same time. They gave me drugs. Drugs make me weird. Er. Than usual. My mouth hurts.

That is all.

unoriginal thought.

2009-02-07T13:13:00.002-05:00

Every time i think something i tend to wonder if someone else thought it first. Usually someone has. It's sort of like the infinite monkeys writing Shakespeare I suppose.

My coffee table looks like it should have a poem written about it.

Black eyes stare through ash.

And crumbs.

Beer-bottle candle-holders

reflecting the window's light.

Bud Light, in the sun light.

drawn-upon table-top

creatures in sharpie peering up

at the home-made

3-D

goggles.

formerly a pizza box.

There's a lot of really random crap on my coffee table.

note:

2009-02-05T17:32:00.002-05:00

Interesting tidbit about the squirrel story that i've been told is enjoyable.

It was written for a class called techniques of fiction. The general idea of this class was to read classic fiction and write our own scenes in their styles then talk about them in a workshop type atmosphere. Being a bit of a procrastinator I had left my homework until about an hour before class and Squillions was what emerged.

random thoughts. #2

2009-02-04T10:55:00.002-05:00

Salmon should not be green, nor should it have the texture of something coughed up by a long time smoker.

"There's no accounting for taste" that phrase annoys me for some reason.

I am beginning to violently dislike rubber gloves.

SQUID NIPPLES!

I think a squid with boobs would look more phallic than they do to begin with.

"Now see here!" is another bothersome phrase. It seems like it ought to be something other than an annoyed exclamation directed at someone who is being unreasonable. and preceding an opposing argument. Like maybe something someone would say while directing a group of tourists around an art museum. Stupid tourists.

i require pie.

Bug Eyes.

2009-01-24T10:36:00.002-05:00

Sometimes i wonder what it would be like to be a bug. It seems like seeing in so many directions all the time would be like being drunk and wearing two pairs of glasses that belong to different people at the same time.

Maybe thats why they don't live very long. The massive amount of energy it takes to organize all that information burns them out. I don't think i'd want to have multi-faceted bug eyes. It would give me a wicked headache.

chilly

2009-01-17T13:16:00.001-05:00

another older tidbit.... from composition class my first year at UMM i believe.

You notice a new sharpness in the air. Not soft and lazy like summer. Fall air is tense, rigid; you notice too the wind it no longer wants to be friendly and warm now it seems bent on causing trouble. Swirling leaves around your feet, tugging at your hat, as if it wants to play a game of tag. The newly cold air bites at your ears. Nipping away, saying “go dig out a hat you fool before I cause some real damage!” You don’t want to admit that winter is coming, but it’s gnawing on your head, blatantly obvious.

NEWTON THE WONDER FLEA!

2009-01-15T15:07:00.002-05:00

the following can be blamed on something, but i have yet to decide what.

Here he is! Newton the Wonder Flea! He can survive anything you throw at him! Heat, cold, poison, he's superman if Clark Kent was a quarter of a centimeter tall! He can leap large cats in a single bound and can put a whole household in the hospital (mental that is) in a matter of months. Reformed to petty blood theft after a brief foray into genocide with his best friend and partner, Oscar the Plague Rat. So there you are folks! he'll always make a house call provided there's a payment in flesh and sanity. Bring him in on anything with fur and if you don't like him? there's not a thing you can do about it!

Skinned Pizza

2009-01-15T11:15:00.002-05:00

a revised bit of something i wrote last year.

The disappointment upon waking up and entering the kitchen, only to find the nude crust staring depressed in it’s cheeselessness at the ceiling. The doughy remains beginning to curl at the edges as it dries. The traces of sauce resemble blood left behind on the flesh of a freshly skinned animal. It’s difficult to throw away despite it’s uselessness as food. It seems like it ought to be buried, or burned. It was not, as one might assume a cat in the midst of a forbidden foray onto the counter who committed this heinous theft of dairy, but that ever present annoyance, the stoned boyfriend.

random thoughts.

2009-01-15T10:03:00.002-05:00

Cat fingers.

Shadows are weird.

Who the hell tries to herd cats anyway?

Do people with bugged out eyes have trouble sleeping?

Smoke rings.

Chalk is an odd sort of substance.

or maybe...

2009-01-13T12:28:00.000-05:00

scratch that. Here's a story i wrote at some point.

Kara Ripley lived in a small town in an unpopular state in a less popular country. The reason the country was unpopular was that it’s elected leaders were lunatics. Lunatics, by and large should be kept out of government positions. However, these lunatics had paid alot of people alot of money to pretend that they were not lunatics and so had been placed in the uppermost positions of power by the gullible people of the unpopular country. There were, of course, lunatics in this country who were not in government positions, but these were few and far between. Most of the people who were generally thought to be lunatics were in fact, not. Actually, most of them were people who had been at some point in their lives kidnapped by space aliens and couldn’t remember it. Being kidnapped by aliens can make a person appear to be a lunatic to other people. Kara Ripley was one of these people. She had, when she was seventeen and a half years old been kidnapped by an obscure race of aliens. They did not look like the ones in movies. The aliens were not tall and willowy with large craniums and high voices, they were not green sinister blobs with a lot of teeth. In fact, they looked quite a lot like common grey squirrels, with two main differences. The first was that their tails were about two inches longer than the average grey squirrel, and the second was that they had antennae. The antennae were rather stumpy and horn like. They used their horn-like antennae to measure things like density, temperature, and pain tolerance. The way they did this was to run headlong into an object and stick their antennae into it’s surface for three quarters of a second. If the object they were measuring happened to be alive this was a very painful process. Kara did not remember meeting these aliens, although forever afterward she was deathly afraid of squirrels.
It was the night between the last day of July and the first of August when they came for her as she slept in her twin bed on the second floor of her parent’s house. There were twenty-six of them. They phased through the wall of her room and proceeded to dash about, gathering data, and generally making a mess. Two of them up ended the waste basket and carefully uncrumpled each and every receipt it contained, picking them up in their tiny hands and spearing them on their little hornlike antennae, memorizing every penny Kara had spent since the last time her trash had been emptied. They also stored information on what type of trees had been used to create the paper the receipts were printed on and what stores used which kinds of paper. Another group analysed the wood of her dresser and were appalled that any species could have so little regard for the life of a tree of that age. The powder of Kara’s make-up kit made them sneeze as they dumped it on their heads and she woke up. Seeing the movement, eight of the aliens gallantly charged her to see what she was and if she was a threat to their data gathering expedition.

lets try this again.

2009-01-13T12:19:00.000-05:00

I haven't tried to have a blog in a while but lets see if this takes for a change.

still, not quite sure what kinda of blog this will be. Maybe i'll do mini reviews of whatever i happen to come across.

might post some writing and pictures too.