TiltaWhirl

There's nothing that one can really say in a setting with a group of people with discussed, predetermined assumptions of a person. Anything the accused might say would just be blown off to said assumptions. Play up their stereotype; rub it like shit in their faces, and they'll be justified in their prUDE-mindedness and be able to move on to the next specimine. Otherwise they'll just keep poking at the starfish on the shore until they multiply and take over the world, transporting all of humankind to Mars without oxygen tanks, where only our eyelash-mites would survive and evolve into a whole colony of madness and assumptions all over again.

Many cling to alternate personalities to earn brownie points with their clique as having some sort of 'connect', but it's all as rubber as a Nixon mask. They fucked up my picture in the yearbook. I would have ruther've had no pic at all, than the shatty retake. I would've almost been pissed if I actually knew anyone at school. Alot of people at school "know" me, but I never have any idea who they are when they come up to me. Except for that one hot guy in my _____ class. High-fives for shirtless guys. Pierced a dick again. This time it went through. At the Static-X concert (where I screamed loud enough to coax the lead singer of Invitro to take his shirt off) I met this one mystery-cloak guy who was having an after-show party @ his friend's house. Mom called me super late and we eventually made our way back home for two seconds and went to some other friend's house at, like, 5ish AM?

It's funny when you go out of your way to avoid something that doesn't end up affecting you anyways. There's more relief than not

of this season's past, and we're all just finding shit to do to keep us busy until we die. All this shit that's dumped on us is

shatty because we take it on that way. It's like purposely choosing to push your car all the way up a hill when you could just put

the key in to start it any time. Some people are just bored without the hill, and once they tire of learning the same concept over

and over, they'll move on to the next stage. It's no one else's place to bring them there, however.

This bowl with mountains of shwa/kieff is keeping me com'ny, swirling it's smoke under my nose like a gentle hand to my face. I

named it Billy, kind of like Billy Holiday. I'm on Ella and Louie right now, and the cotton is high...
and your ma' is good looking ~ ~ ~ I'm making my plan of escape fairly soon. I have to get out of here... soon. I've only been

intercontinental, which is a yawn. I haven't even been to Canada yet, although I'll prolly see things far greater far long bef0re

then. Applause all around for Jack Johnson (I know him from that 'Taylor' song. He's really hot in the video.)

Everyone wants to hang out. Blablabla, why don't you answer your phone? Where have you BEEN the past whatever? Marcia's spilling her stuff to Dr. Phil and I couldn't be less interested, if it weren't for the fact that it's being watched by a fellow housemate and I'm unable to control the situation. I shall walk my dogs after I drink this coffee. I'll stop sleeping when I'm done. A bunch of people I know have a bunch of different parties, and it's almost as though I'm sick of getting drunk. (Almost) Indeed, the only thing that I'm really sick of is all this clear shit going 'round instead of my preferred red-brown warmth in a bottle, whiskey. I do like rum, but the other is just a tish better as far as taste and drunk goes. Don't need a chaser. Where have all the pot-heads gone? Yeaah, but alcoholics are a bit more phun, and run rampid in duluth. Weather's getting warm. I'm all toned and shit now, it's tight. Went camping 9 miles in the woods a couple daze ago. I was going to go farther and spend about 3 or 4 days in the woods, but I was foolish enough to think that a lone parka would be enough to keep me toasty instead of a sleeping bag. I headed out of dodge in the morning, took down the tent and all that, and was covered with bugs by the time I came back. There was this one crazy barbaric Braveheart scene on my trip where I was wading through calf-high swamps and fell face first. I guess it would have been annoying in any other circumstance, but the whole thing was leaving me feeling like a bad-ass for getting my girlie-pillows all grunged up on the journey. Ticks are being left on my equiptment outside, and I Deet'd the shit out of it, but all the same, there it sits.
Crazy, middle-of-the-night calls have left me in a bit of a quandry. Not sure if it's the same person each time, or different individuals, but if one comes to my house in the middle of the night, I won't wake up unless you ring the doorbell. Or better yet, try calling. Nah, strike that last comment. My phone has recently become more of a hassle than it's worth.
Oh yeah, I had my first show! I've really got to get to writing some new shiatt, but it didn't go half bad. I met a couple neat bands from around Ohio and somewhere. . . the one with the hot accordian player. Yeah, I've just been all drunk lately, and I'm off to find some greenage to even things out. Life is good.