what in the world?

Did I actually write this? I emailed this to myself on 4/10/2008:

"it's pronounced 'skeeeezooooors' " stated the anal archer as his slick maple ammunition bore a 3 foot deep 7 inch wide hole in his (contractor's) face. The slender woman found that it was best to keep her feet to herself as the auto sander buffed her digits into nothingness. As deep as the ocean is wide, the canyon enveloped the lost travelers as the millions of tiny shutters closed for the last times. As his foot weighed more and more on the velocitator, the mendicant's bloodied face, which had already been lacerated by a multitude of tiny glass dirks, plunged deeper and deeper into the half-existent windshield. Finally the super model's stiletto plunged through the automaton's left ventricle. First, there was light, then darkness, for without the former the latter could not exist. Born from the shadows, i stood, barooboodoo

GO KARA!!!!

Also He's A Robot

So It's all goooood in the hood. Well not really. I texted you so there's no need for indirect flowery prose to communicate with you. I'm just curious to see how the time apart has affected us. Victoria made some reference to you and Anton getting it on, I'm telling you she's trying to get a rise out of me I don't understand it at all.

I've very recently felt like Mel Gibson in Brave Heart, soon I will be pulled apart piece by piece. Check the tunes.

Gigantic

I feel like something momentous happened today, but I can't put my finger on it.

On Commercialism and Haircuts

I like to front on my high horse like if I had any money I'd donate most of it to charity. Actually though I like to spend money just like everyone else, maybe not to the extent of most people but coming out of goodwill with an armful of shirts makes me feel good. How much better would it feel if it was the Gucci store I was walking out of? There's only one way to find out.

Haircuts. The only facet of my haircut I'm concerned with anymore is how it looks while I'm riding and when I'm finished riding. I need to get one of these soon too.

The Light

You hold a vial in your open palm made of the thinnest glass. There's a golden moth holding on to dear life.

Your Word Choice

I was thinking about writing a short story based on a phrase that came to me from the ether this morning. Then I got to thinking about plot and all that good stuff and realized that it's very hard to write something that no one has ever written before. Something I strive to do when writing above all else, is putting words in a particular sequence that no one has ever done before. I have no idea why this appeals to me so much but I imagine it even harkens back to my nonsensical writings of adolescence. This post has made me feel smart, mission accomplished.

Hop Skip and a

I feel like I'm jumping from rock to rock trying to cross a river safely. I'm not in any danger or anything I just have to keep moving so I don't fall in. I went to galco's with Nick yesterday and asked the owner what the creamiest root beer was in his opinion and I got it. I just drank it and that shit was creamy as fuck! Sometimes I feel like Victoria brings you up out of nowhere to get a rise out of me. She's not stupid and it's always some weird dumb tangent like how you had a curfew or how you were in middle school when she first started going to cacao ("It's pronounced coacoa"). Her new boyfriend came in today and they kissed in front of me and David. David went off for like five minutes about how this wasn't Europe and how disgusting it was and what a sloppy kisser she is. I'm guessing none of that is news to you unfortunately...

Your words are incredibly innocuous yet they let me know you're listening, I'm pretty sure that's against the terms of our agreement (which I neglected to have you sign). I know you're having a good time over there, I'm kinda way jealous as I'm fighting a pretty bad case of wanderlust at the moment. We got nadja to come to big ass beer night and David got me going again with his ridiculous travel tales.

I don't mean to sound demanding but you better not forget to bring me back some Turkish delight.

Thirty

Today is the day of my brothers birth so I will dedicate a post to him today, regular posting activity will resume tomorrow.

It's amazing to me that he's turning thirty. Seems that we were just sliding down the stairs covered in blankets on a makeshift toboggan. He was forced to share a room with me for much of those thirty years, I should apologize for all the frustrated wall punching and controller breaking while he was trying to sleep. For all the times I tagged along trying to be a skater so I could be more like him. We went through a lot of shit together whether we knew it at the time or not. He managed to survive another bout of living with me, swinging light fixture and falling asleep in the chairs. Basically a hundred percent of my musical knowledge in high school was siphoned from my brother. If one of us ever departs LA for any significant amount of time, the first stop back in town is always Lucy's at one in the morning.

I admire you more than you'll ever know, happy birthday Barry.

We all scream

In a moment of weakness I checked her blog where I shouldn't have seen anything new. Five days into her vacation she did the usual post filled with cryptic references to me. I'm assuming things have changed drastically since then but I really miss that medusa-esque muse, is she back yet?

Pendulous

I wrote this on my lunch break for whatever reason.

I'm in over my head again. Pardon my liberal use of metaphors involving the ocean. I stepped in still clueless on the mechanics of floating, you tried to throw me a life preserver and of course I refused.

Then on the way home I felt almost the opposite of this. Like I might have thrown her overboard, which I never could've predicted happening ever. Then again this could all be stemming from a lot of false bravado. Only time will tell... deja vu.