Log in

No account? Create an account
to hell with reality! [entries|friends|calendar]

[ facebook: | profile. ]
[ website | last.fm profile ]
[ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ]
[ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

425 [03 Jun 2012|11:42pm]
[ mood | drunk ]

I can't help but keep thinking about this moment, sitting on a boardwalk bench next to the beach just enjoying that salty early June sea breeze. A day of mixed sun and showers, the clouds twirled around with rays of that odd sunshine gleaming through dark cotton-like puffs. I couldn't help but think as I see this now, nobody will ever see it again. A sky like it on a day like it, yes - but this exact moment and this simple "just stop, shut up, and look at it" beauty is destroyed in the relentless march of time. Forever.

The air traffic cutting through the sky is dense and loud, just the way I like it. We've all come of age in or after the era of overdriven amps, muscle cars, jet engines, punk rock, Pink Floyd, interstate highways, microwaves, and television. The heavy, droned out hum of ton-upon-ton of beautifully crafted heavy iron being suspended in the sky almost if by magic is calming. Like thunder is calming. People and parcels going from here to... who knows where? I like to spot the liveries the aircraft are wearing, daydreaming of the places they're taking those hundreds of people to. I just sit here on this bench, probably indistinguishable to those people beginning their journey across the vast ocean.

I love the feeling of being tiny, being unseen. It reminds me how much more I have to do with my what... maybe 80-100 years total on this rock? I think I've a certain affinity for trains and aircraft because they bring people to you, and take them away. It's not as simple as a car - a car you can turn around. You can stop. Air travel is the oddest mindfuck. Airports are like moon bases. Self contained prototypical "arcologies" where so long as you have the cash to get shit like booze and junk food at horrible prices, you can get anything. You can get lodging. You can rent a car. You can get a train or bus outside of the self-contained safe zone to perhaps actually enter the city which lies beyond it's borders.

I love taking the "back way" home out of JFK through the cargo area not only because it is technically more direct or because I get cut off left and right by vehicles sporting foreboding "US GOVERNMENT" plates - but it is cool to see the huge amount of background stuff going on at that place. You know just outside the "cargo customs" zones is an enclave of 24 hour "adult video stores" and the sleaziest hotels you can shake $20 for oral favors at... or did they turn that into a homeless shelter due to the recessions? I forget. Anyway, time to the end this rambling and occupy myself with playing with the cats or something.
2 ~ | +

423 - JIMBO WALES [20 Nov 2011|05:21am]
[ mood | drunk ]

Jimbo "God Damn the Fuck" Wales is after your five dollar bills again. He'll only take the newer series that sport the giant purple "5" so he can melt that shit down in his private drug lab and make acid from it... but regardless of his intentions, I invite you to reminisce alongside me in a tribute to what makes the modern world's most extensive free internet encyclopedia a true gem of knowledge. A delicate turquoise (which tonight we shall pronounce "TA-QUA" in betwixt swigs of gourmet champagne) jewel in a sea of ever growing ignorance displayed by our dismal populace, ever lurching further into a trite tale told in a dystopian 80s sci-fi flick. Let me stem that tide by reminding my good friends and wizards of Jimbo Wales' most provoking contributions:

It is indeed a boundless source of knowledge. Please donate
4 ~ | +

422 - "Senior Moments" [14 Nov 2011|06:20am]
[ mood | blah ]

One of the pervasive realities of the human experience which I touched on in my last post and previous cheap-booze-influenced rambles was we're all getting older, like it or not. When you reach a certain age though, it seems that the dysfunction takes a turn for the completely hilarious. Simple actions and interactions that shouldn't present the thinnest shred of difficulty become miniature domestic failures, like dialing a phone number.

On Veterans day afternoon I was relaxing with with the "G-rents" prior to sinking hours of my life into the new Elder Scrolls game which came out that day. We were chatting about nothing in particular when my grandmother asked me to get her some iced tea from the kitchen, and I figured I'd toast a bagel for myself too. While pouring myself a double of Scotch and putting the bagel in the toaster oven, I overheard my grandfather asking my grandmother for a phone number he had her write down earlier. I have no idea why he needs her to do this because directly in front of "his chair" in the living room, sits the omnipresent makeshift TV tray (this thing, to be specific) with his crossword and ALWAYS a pen. Maybe at the time it was under a napkin or his crossword puzzle, perhaps meaning it vanished from existence at that point. She is across the room perched on a couch that really needed to be replaced a decade ago, sitting there looking like a female Archie Bunker crossbred with one the Hutts.

Now, in my opinion the normal thing to do here would've been to get up and fetch the piece of paper with the number, and dial it - but that doesn't seem to be how their minds work. My grandmother, in her Archie Bunker accent, bellows out the number with the power of Pavarotti in order to yell over the already harshly loud baseball game on television.

"TWO." "FOWAH." "SIX." etc... and then he yells back, "I CAN'T HEAYUH YOU." which is then met with, "WHOIY DON'T YA TURN THAT DAEM THING AWF FORRA MINUTE." Another layer of dysfunction is how on the HDTV with the HDTV box I showed them how to use at least twenty times, its still not set to the HD sports channel, although if they can't tell, I guess it doesn't matter. He picks up the remote off his "TV tray" and looking extremely pleased with himself for successfully locating the mute button, triumphantly silences the beast. They begin the interaction again, and he dials.

"YOU MUSTA GIVEN ME THA FAX NUMBA, I'M HEARIN' A WHISTLE AFTER A FEW RINGS." Met with, "YOU PROBABLY DIALED IT WRONG, DID YOU MAKE SHOWAH YOU PRESSED TAWK?" At this point I'm still standing in the kitchen chuckling quietly and trying not to burst out in the laughter. Nowhere at this point does either do anything but repeat the process three more times before perhaps out of blind luck alone, he seemed to phone the place he was looking for... and then him hilariously muttering "Idiot." when they put him on hold.

What I suspect the issue was, at least after the television was muted, was that my grandfather has a habit of pressing numbers on a keypad way too quickly. I've been out with him several times when he goes to use his ATM card (which I taught him how to do a couple years ago) and after getting the swipe correct on the third try, he then feels the need to punch in the numbers super fast and ends up screwing up the pin. "Wrong pin, sir." "Ah, shit..." and the ordeal of swiping the card in the correct fashion begins once more. He gets an A in my book for catching up with the times though, and now he curses old bitches ahead of him in line who go for the archaic checkbook just like us younger bastards would. Aaand my original point being, he doesn't take his time to look and see if he's punching in correct numbers on a keypad, so the three wrong numbers were perhaps due to simple elderly error...

...and the best part is, we all get to look forward to this!

1 ~ | +

421 [18 Oct 2011|05:34am]
[ mood | drunk ]

Age is an odd motherfucker. I wonder if it is natural to start pondering your own mortality in your mid 20s.


In my last post I referenced old Doctor Who episodes - and although the show is cheesy as fuck, I've been catching up with some of the newer [2005+] ones, but the same grand buzzkilling motif still applies: everything grows old and everything dies. Also recently I've caught up with that awesome "Through the Wormhole" series narrated by "God" Morgan Freeman and really enjoyed a few of the episodes dealing with that biggest question. Also on a lesser note, I'm glad the trend is swinging back towards presenter oriented science shows - I couldn't give a squid-ink-wine-shit less about a nameless bland narrator and a bunch of campy CGI.

I know a lot of older friends/family will laugh at me for this - but turning 25 before the end of the year seems like a milestone I wish I could put off. Other than the random "employment opportunity" I see reserved for those 25+ or the fact that car insurance supposedly goes down after that age, there is absolutely nothing to look forward to after 21. I'm not saying there isn't an endless amount to look forward to in life, just that at this point I'd rather throw out any meaning of time and just exist. I only have two or so years of college under my belt - embarrassing. I have a decent resume, but the economy is fucked the fuck up. This evening, my grandmother - while swilling a glass of red wine and after gloating about her clean bill of health (at least my genetic outlook seems pretty good!) talked about how in the old days around here there was an extensive "barter club" and enough people honored it that her close friends were able to buy a decent house in Jericho, NY solely on the barter system. I would be so stoked if something like that became popular again - but as we all know, communities are a hollow shell of what they used to be (at least around here), and everyone is isolated and obsessed with themselves. I completely back the ideological foundation of the "Occupy Wall Street" movement, but hearing that made me envy our grandparent's generation. Instead of what our hippie parents did, or what we're doing - they just took shit into their own hands and made a true local economy. Seems like the quickest damn way to simple self-fulfillment - the system now seems designed to just deadlock people in debt and misery. Oh, and stupidity. Fucking stupidity.

I don't know. I hope you enjoyed my ramble. Why not???
3 ~ | +

Question... [14 Oct 2011|11:29pm]
[ mood | drunk ]

Do you think certain "interest groups" have people who comment on popular sites/blogs with complete rubbish in order to covertly try and sway people's actions?

I'm speaking mostly about computing/tech blogs, which sadly I read very often. Just recently on Lifehacker, there was a post about "Backify Gives 512GB of Unencrypted Online Backup Storage for Free" and some clown comments "You'd also probably get in trouble with your service provider if you're regularly filling and refilling a 512GB online backup." Source. What the fuck is this comment useful for? I pay monthly for my broadband service, and nowhere in fuck's world is there anything that says I need to limit my bandwidth usage. I don't live in a fucking college dorm, what the hell is that guy getting at?

There was another post in early September about Seagate's new 4TB external hard drive - a damn swell idea if you ask me. I have a Seagate 500GB and Western Digital 1.5TB external - both bought 1-2 years ago, and I'm already having to delete old shit for room for new shit. I love just having a vast amount of data storage space, and not having to think about whether or not I need to clear out old music projects in order to get a direct download of a game/etc - and some asshole comments,

"You either have to have a legit digital based business (video editor) or you have things you wouldn't want other people to see. It could be your "collection", or torrented files, or ripped blue rays. Even if you did have something to hide, why put all those rotten eggs in one basket. I'd rather have four 1TB drives in RAID keeping things safe than get a single 4TB drive. Who has or needs that much stuff?" Source.

What the bloody hell? Either this guy does indeed have four terabyte drives in RAID and is both tweaked out of his mind and nervous, or perhaps he's some hired troll. I hate how people on the intArNuT feel the need to inject their own subjective (and frankly retarded) morals into every god damn thing. Video editor? Apparently this guy hasn't had the chance to extensively fuck around with sound recording software - that shit just eats up space if you're fooling around. I don't care if it is technically "right/legal" or not to rip a Blu-Ray (haha, dumbass called it "Blue Ray") if I'm paying money for digital media on a fragile disc medium, I'm going to rip whatever the bloody fuck I want to.


"Oh hey, I wanted to covert those old PBS reruns of Doctor Who I recorded on VHS when I was ten into a more convenient, digital medium. Oh by the way, did I mention I want to throw you up against a wall and preform an action that will result in you counting your missing front teeth off my soiled linoleum floor?"

I haven't ranted here in a while. Feels good.

1 ~ | +

Loss. [23 Aug 2011|12:30am]
[ mood | crushed ]

Well, I guess it's an appropriate time to write something in this neglected bitch which has served as a fine commode for all my depressing rants of personal antiquity.

Today was a beautiful day weather-wise, which in my near quarter-century of life experience means something awful is about to happen. 'Cos when life looks like Easy Street, there's danger at your door. For the past month or so, Jenny the cat - who pleased me to no end with her peculiar ways and bright personality, has had bladder trouble. An x-ray found a large impassable "urolith" (bladder stone) that was blocking her ability to urinate - and causing great pain. About a month ago, the vet was able to physically remove the stone from blocking things and Jenny the cat seemed fine for a while - eating and drinking again, and pissing as usual - then about last Thursday or so, I noticed a stark change - she was constantly pacing between the basket she sleeps in and her litter box, with absolutely no urine passing. On Friday I took her back and the stone was again successfully removed, but this time a torrent of blood-laced urine came out, so much that it began dripping furiously off the examination table onto the sterile white floor. She had been (mostly) on a prescribed diet of "Urinary SO" wet food which she ate with moderate difficulty, but apparently to no avail. I took her back home over the weekend and unlike the first "removal of the stone," she did not seem to be well this time, and only ate and drank bits. She continued spending most of the day pacing between the litter box and the basket, her condition clearly deteriorating vs. improving.

I called the vet this morning and I was told to bring her in as soon as possible. I knew the diagnosis wouldn't be good, but I wasn't prepared for the anvil crushing my fucking emotions type news - that beyond a simple urolith, the cat was going into kidney failure. To say she wasn't acting like herself would be an understatement, and for the first time in my life, I had to choose what to do. Now, I've gone through plenty of pets in my 24 years. Cats, dogs, a hamster that liked to shit in my hand and a beta fish that was the spawn of Satan - but in all instances I was merely given bad news by a parent or something. I stayed at home while they dealt with the gristly details and what not. Well, I did flush that fish down the toilet. (Okay, enough comic relief.)

I had to physically sign a fucking document allowing them legal consent to euthanize the poor cat. I was ripped from a place of cold shock and emotional disbelief immediately back into the realm of endless human stupidity and bullshit, having to sign forms and worry about petty bills and charges - luckily they had no issue with me deferring the modest payment because that money was supposed to make my cat better, now it's going (and went) to comfort food and comfort booze. Hey, it solves nothing but it's calmed me down enough to write this, so whatever.

Now I'm left in the quiet dark alone, a time when normally we'd hang together. Jenny was a good night companion, she liked to hang out in the kitchen and look out the window with me. Hell, looking out the window with her while sipping a libation for hours on end have been some of the best times of this confusing adult life. In retrospect, it was paradise. It all makes me start pondering life and death, and how fucking fragile life really is. She will join all the rest of my beloved deceased cats in the dusty halls of my memory, but is it totally naive to think we will one day see our lost loved ones again? Not in a bullshit heaven or hell type sense, but what about consciousness crossing over to another dimension or something? "See you on the other side" I want to say with philosophical confidence, however I'm reminded of the utterly heart-wrenching words Carl Sagan wrote during his demise, knowing that it is silly to seek refuge in cheap fantasies. If that is true, then I cherish every day we had together even more, from the moment she was adopted until now.

Goodbye =(
6 ~ | +

419 [06 Jul 2011|07:03am]
[ mood | nauseated ]

Coarse twine tears clean
And I have thought about this very instance for all time
Decades longer than you or I
Crimson comforting, scorching this flesh, giving it's caring for me
And I have thought about these moments for all time
Dangling from a silver lining

These lungs welcome the crimson tides of misfortune

So much for breathing, my cloud nine fell from grace. Loss of everything, where is my identity?. If I could only find what is left me. So much for letting go when you have nothing left to hold. The words that slid off your tongue, my everything. Your nothing, I know that I don't mean much to you but you mean the world to me. Devotion, an undying dead. The harrowing, bleed you out of me, the "he said, she said" falsity. Leave it be, I just want to go home. So much for letting go. I won't be dying with me, no not this time. Becoming by undoing him. Sacrifice, the ultimate devotion. So much for saving yourself. It can never be love. I can never be sold like the blood they call love. I am a stranger. I will not, I have not, I can never be like him.


418 [17 Feb 2011|07:49pm]
[ mood | relaxed ]

I fucking love hearing Earth played on FM radio when I drive home once it's dark out. Kudos to 89.1FM =)

Oh look, I'm listening to the song again because it's fucking amazing.

3 ~ | +

417 [15 Feb 2011|10:10pm]
[ mood | high ]

Oh noes!!!


What is happening with the world!?!?!

Oh...UGHusghuhs..... Bluewp.... Mugguwuguguah! ....


415 - Incredible [01 Dec 2010|08:31am]
[ mood | scared ]

Ladies and Gentlemen, feast you eyes and ears on what was dug up from a time capsule of haphazard and unintentional comedic genius.

I first came across the mysterious "Navgtr" from a quaint retsupurae video. The original reviews were uploaded to Google Video in it's infancy before popping up on Youtube, so I am leaning towards the conclusion that someone unearthed a time capsule of late 1990s public access goodness and we exist today for the sole reason of reaping the rewards. It scares me to speculate, but if this is somehow staged in today's day and age - this is frighteningly immaculate.

But no, I think another artifact was found. A glimpse into the recent, yet distant past. There is a creepy darkness lingering in these heirlooms, however. Watch this until the conclusion. Boring, you say? Keep watching. The horrors slowly show themselves.

Perhaps there are some things best left unseen.
5 ~ | +

Writer's Block: Dress to Impress [29 Nov 2010|03:17pm]
[ mood | blah ]

What's your dream outfit for a holiday party this year?

Someone on the internets, may I implore you to give me suggestions on how I can make a costume to look like him? I am already a girthy, hedonistic man. Now I must become Hedonism bot.
3 ~ | +

Who you gonna call? [28 Nov 2010|07:27am]
Serious business.

Serious ghosting.

Serious candid. ^-^

Some call him grandpa fuggles. "He reminds me of a crazy uncle who collects antique dolls and wears kimonos at home." Some claim he's a fondler, that he has a pedo vibe about him. That he looks exactly like the dykey, menopausal nun that beat the crap out of you when you were thirteen. That if Corky St. Clair from "Waiting for Guffman" had a child with the old lady from "Poltergeist," it would be Chip.

Good ol', grandpa fuggles ^_^
2 ~ | +

413 - My biggest pet peeve on the internet. [26 Nov 2010|02:36am]
Seriously, this is something that should have have ceased years ago, nearly a decade ago... like complaining about how black people say "axe", and using the terms "meh" or "poseur."

aaand what is it that I am referring to that sends a hot burn up my spine and makes me want to go out and kick the nearest infant in front of oncoming traffic?


Why do I still come across this? I realize the internet is the virtual sewage plant of humanity, but why does this particular travesty have to go on? It's like a throbbing mosquito bite in the brain. You'll be perusing some crap, maybe some user-submitted game reviews or craigslist ads for homewares, and you will come across this strange anomaly of a fairly cohesively written paragraph with "ur" fucking everything up, like the writer had some crackhead glitch and shat themselves during the split-second they made the poor decision to write that.

"Thanks for looking at my microwave. Please make sure ur subject in the e-mail refers to it so I know what it is."


YO-UR. IS THAT SO FUCKING HARD? You typed out everything else, yet you caused my entire nervous system to go through a painful spasm with that bullshit. Thank loving fuck, I find "internet shorthand" has far and by large become a bad memory, probably on par with being molested as a child or seeing your favorite pet get run over while he fetched that frisbee back to you. However that little tidbit of written nausea still surfaces from the bowels of hell now and then. Like coming across your dead pet's severed paw in the street, or your creepy uncle giving you that tell-tale gold tooth smile as he slowly drives by in his rusty van. End it now. Please, end it fucking now.
2 ~ | +

Writer's Block: Ground Control to Major Tom [02 Sep 2010|05:35am]
What kind of craft would you design to travel through time and space? How would it work? What would it look like?

Well that's a pretty easy fuckin' question....

\m/ heh \m/
2 ~ | +

410 - we're not fucked up, we're perfectly sound. [17 Aug 2010|04:12am]

I walked with Jesus and he would say, "Oh you poor child, you ain't comin' to me no way... You've found Heaven on Earth, gonna burn for your sin." But I think I'll be in good company down there with all my friends. Well I got around to thinking 'bout what Jesus said to me 'cos if heaven's like this, then that's the place for me. Long, long time between now and my death and I gotta have my fun so I've chosen what's best. So listen sweet Lord, forgive me my sin 'cos I can't stand this life without all of these things. Know I done wrong, but I've Heaven on Earth. Know I done wrong, but I could have done me worse. Well, here it comes, here comes the sound, the sound of confusion. Well, here it comes... the sound of love. Jesus please meet me at the center of the earth 'cos these wings are gonna fail me and I could have done me worse... yeah I could have done me worse... could have done me worse...
1 ~ | +

also [31 Jul 2010|03:30pm]
Forecast for the rest of this afternoon and evening is...

Delicious Magic Hat "Blind Faith" IPA, some Dark Abbey Ale, a big bottle of sad bitch SoCo, vodka, and a few 40s for backup.

Oh, it's also in the mid 70s outside. Thank fuck. I am actually sit here and blast music with my door open and feel COMFORTABLE doing it! Today shall be a nice, quiet afternoon of drunken solitude. <3
3 ~ | +

404 ~the URL u requested was not found~ [05 Apr 2010|03:58am]
[ mood | drinking beer ]

I used to be able to drink beer really fast, and get really drunk off of it when I was bored and couldn't sleep on a night like tonight. I'm not sure what's been stopping me from doing that now.

I am doomed to another few hours of boring insomnia.

Things could be worse.

4 ~ | +

401 [18 Mar 2010|11:05am]
[ mood | hungover! ]

A simple exposé
2 ~ | +

400 [17 Mar 2010|03:44pm]
[ mood | high ]


4 ~ | +

398... so we're in the future now? [02 Jan 2010|03:13pm]
It's strange to think that the decade which has defined pretty much everyone I know is now over, and I don't know exactly how I can look back on it. I was thirteen years old when 2000 rolled around, still a child in most ways and wondering if planes would fall out of the sky and my shitty little hand-me-down desktop computer would crash, and if I would lose all those mp3s I wasted so much time and tying up the phone line getting. As far as the world went, Bill Clinton was still the president, 9/11 had not happened yet, there was no recession, things just were... and the world didn't seem like some fucked up house of cards yet.

There was high school for me, then there were a couple years of college and then not having the money to continue classes right away, so now I'm about three years behind where I should be. I remember my friend Erin yelling, "Yay! No more beating treated like cattle!" on that final day in that warm summer of 2005 when we finally graduated from high school. Everything seemed fucking perfect then, and I mean fucking perfect. Even at eight teen years old, I was still in most ways a child.

Most of the past decade was a lot of fun, and you know... why not only remember the best things? The nights spent hanging out, laughing our asses off, all the silly inside jokes made, all the shows we went to, all the drunken mishaps, and semi-innocent pranks.

I wish I had more to say, but I think that about covers it. I don't make new year's resolutions, but if I had to have one... it would be to punch my anxiety square in the side of it's face and start having fun again, I can't believe it's 2010 and I'm 23 and fucking... ugh, I feel old. Life is short, it's time to start making more of it.
6 ~ | +

[ viewing | most recent entries ]
[ go | earlier ]