If you don't know why I'm suddenly getting a new blog: Read the last two posts here.
Post #30. Here's my new blog: Nathaniel Arthur
We the animals take control...
13 years ago
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Almost There...
It's loading, my brand new blog, it's loading and it's not on blogspot. Guess, for once, I beat Michelangelo to the punch.
I'm making this post just because that way, my next post is #30. I like even numbers to end things.
I'm making this post just because that way, my next post is #30. I like even numbers to end things.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
There For Myself = There By Myself ... Or Not
Prelude and Catharsis
I'm not over you. I'm never over you. I will always, always, feel about you the way I felt when we were together. The fact that we were never together, is part of the reason I often write songs. I never actually had you, I probably never will either. The difference isn't how I feel about you, it's how I choose to live with it. The difference is I'm not a coward and I don't run from my feelings, so telling you this I expect two things: Either you'll feel an aggrandizement that doesn't belong to you, or you'll be an uncomfortable wreck. This is why I don't specify who you are. Except, you know who you are... you're everyone I've ever met.
This pretty much summarizes my relationship to people. Everyone I've met, one way or another, I've fallen in love with them. They usually don't fall for me though. I've either felt pretty used or pretty stupid. This was the whole point of having a blog, to express those feelings I get all the time where the people around me make no sense. On the other hand, no matter how difficult or volatile I become, this period of my life has been characterized by some pretty strong support from hands I've never expected...
This is to the people who have been there for me, you know who you are. And if you're reading this, and feel like you're left out, then you'll know... you'll finally know for sure, that you weren't there for me, otherwise you'd identify with what I just said.
So to you who were there for me. Thank you.
The rest, I appreciate the effort, and even your lack thereof. If you circled my hemisphere that was enough for me. Was.
I launched my first blog due to the first person who hurt me immensely, then I launched disco stick because I felt about as used as a lube tube in an orgy by what I back then deemed a cold and heartless woman whom I now consider a joke. Eventually this blog became more about other people, people who became much more important to me. One of them though, who was crucial in some ways to this blog's development, is gone. I recall that, while I wrote this blog, there was only one other person in the world I truly felt was like me, got me, had a similar DNA code.
Now I know how unlike each other we are. And at first I felt very alone, and now I'm no longer wallowing. It was a dream, very much like a high school crush of a dream, to have someone so similar to me alive and breathing and surviving alongside me with all the perils of this universe. In my dream she was compassionate and caring, wounded but not damaged goods. In my dream she was a flower that kept wilting in the glare of flashlights, always afraid to stand in the sun because somehow she feared truly blooming. In my dream, the moment this flower touched the sun it would grow beautifully.
It's amazing how powerful the mind is, and how easily we over-embellish.
The one in my dream was everything I lived for in barely a few days. We never spoke too frankly because I never thought it necessary, and people like us, who I thought was "us", didn't need clear words, just clear motives and intentions. I thought she knew. So to her, the one in my dream, I dedicate this song.
To the real one, the one who she is, the one who turned off the light switch the moment dawn came, the one who dictates futures she can't dish out, the one who discards moments once they're over, who for all her worth can't treasure the good, the one who gives the front seat to the bad habits, the one who thrives in flashlights, the one who isn't like me, I respect you're someone else, I respect your life is something else, I agree you should find it, but I'm afraid I don't know you, and I'm sorry but this song is not actually for you.
You can listen to it here. Thank you to members of the band Acronym, particularly my good friend Michelangelo for lending me their talented hands, the instrumentation is rough but still exactly what I envisioned. And yes, that is me singing, as you can see I'm not exactly the singing type but, well hell, you know how it is.
Now for the ending:
I'm going to do a blog makeover. I guess it's time. Welcome new phase of my life. So I'm going to write a goodbye letter to Disco Stick.
Ahem,
---
"The Times They Are A-Changing" - Bob Dylan
I'm not over you. I'm never over you. I will always, always, feel about you the way I felt when we were together. The fact that we were never together, is part of the reason I often write songs. I never actually had you, I probably never will either. The difference isn't how I feel about you, it's how I choose to live with it. The difference is I'm not a coward and I don't run from my feelings, so telling you this I expect two things: Either you'll feel an aggrandizement that doesn't belong to you, or you'll be an uncomfortable wreck. This is why I don't specify who you are. Except, you know who you are... you're everyone I've ever met.
This pretty much summarizes my relationship to people. Everyone I've met, one way or another, I've fallen in love with them. They usually don't fall for me though. I've either felt pretty used or pretty stupid. This was the whole point of having a blog, to express those feelings I get all the time where the people around me make no sense. On the other hand, no matter how difficult or volatile I become, this period of my life has been characterized by some pretty strong support from hands I've never expected...
I'm grateful to you. Very much so. You're everything to me.
This is to the people who have been there for me, you know who you are. And if you're reading this, and feel like you're left out, then you'll know... you'll finally know for sure, that you weren't there for me, otherwise you'd identify with what I just said.
So to you who were there for me. Thank you.
The rest, I appreciate the effort, and even your lack thereof. If you circled my hemisphere that was enough for me. Was.
I launched my first blog due to the first person who hurt me immensely, then I launched disco stick because I felt about as used as a lube tube in an orgy by what I back then deemed a cold and heartless woman whom I now consider a joke. Eventually this blog became more about other people, people who became much more important to me. One of them though, who was crucial in some ways to this blog's development, is gone. I recall that, while I wrote this blog, there was only one other person in the world I truly felt was like me, got me, had a similar DNA code.
Now I know how unlike each other we are. And at first I felt very alone, and now I'm no longer wallowing. It was a dream, very much like a high school crush of a dream, to have someone so similar to me alive and breathing and surviving alongside me with all the perils of this universe. In my dream she was compassionate and caring, wounded but not damaged goods. In my dream she was a flower that kept wilting in the glare of flashlights, always afraid to stand in the sun because somehow she feared truly blooming. In my dream, the moment this flower touched the sun it would grow beautifully.
It's amazing how powerful the mind is, and how easily we over-embellish.
The one in my dream was everything I lived for in barely a few days. We never spoke too frankly because I never thought it necessary, and people like us, who I thought was "us", didn't need clear words, just clear motives and intentions. I thought she knew. So to her, the one in my dream, I dedicate this song.
To the real one, the one who she is, the one who turned off the light switch the moment dawn came, the one who dictates futures she can't dish out, the one who discards moments once they're over, who for all her worth can't treasure the good, the one who gives the front seat to the bad habits, the one who thrives in flashlights, the one who isn't like me, I respect you're someone else, I respect your life is something else, I agree you should find it, but I'm afraid I don't know you, and I'm sorry but this song is not actually for you.
Lucy
I've had more than my share of girlfriends,
and don't ever care to keep them for more than a year,
but tonight while safely asleep I've fallen into this dream
Where Lucy and I are together forever
A love far too good to be true
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
We socialize often times in our own corner of the party's audience
chatting with each other's exes and friends we made love with
circling the crowd, speaking very loud
So we can find each other, steal a kiss and cop a feel in front of everyone
At the end of the night we're stable
and able to keep things from falling apart
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
I feel my heart tickin' away like a clock
Feel my heart tickin' away like a clock
Feel my heart tickin' away like a clock
My heartbeat's tickin' away like a clock
Feel my heart tickin' away to an alarming end
To an alarming end
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
I've had more than my share of girlfriends,
and don't ever care to keep them for more than a year,
but tonight while safely asleep I've fallen into this dream
Where Lucy and I are together forever
A love far too good to be true
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
We socialize often times in our own corner of the party's audience
chatting with each other's exes and friends we made love with
circling the crowd, speaking very loud
So we can find each other, steal a kiss and cop a feel in front of everyone
At the end of the night we're stable
and able to keep things from falling apart
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
I feel my heart tickin' away like a clock
Feel my heart tickin' away like a clock
Feel my heart tickin' away like a clock
My heartbeat's tickin' away like a clock
Feel my heart tickin' away to an alarming end
To an alarming end
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
When I wake up
I wanna be happy
So don't forget me
You can listen to it here. Thank you to members of the band Acronym, particularly my good friend Michelangelo for lending me their talented hands, the instrumentation is rough but still exactly what I envisioned. And yes, that is me singing, as you can see I'm not exactly the singing type but, well hell, you know how it is.
Now for the ending:
I'm going to do a blog makeover. I guess it's time. Welcome new phase of my life. So I'm going to write a goodbye letter to Disco Stick.
Ahem,
Dear Disco Stick:
You were cute while you lasted, with your green hat and your lost clovers, but now you've stopped running after the rainbow and we must part ways. Once upon a time, before you became the Disco Stick, you were just the Nathan Satan, and he too was looking for the pot of gold.
It was lucky that both your forces didn't collide, that you Disco Stick could live without the devilish Demon, but eventually, you knew this day would come. Comedians eventually bow at the audience, tip their hats and head backstage.
It was a fun ride Disco Stick, I will miss your mellow ways, I will miss your girlfriend and her sister Mary Jane, I will miss the cocktail of pills and cheap thrills. Overall, it was a good run my friend, through you I met several girls of my life, lost some, kept some, learned some. I met some of the men of my life too. And like a justice scale, when I paid more attention to one side, the other one suffered for it.
I got it. Thank you Disco Stick, and even the elusive Nathan Satan. We'll probably see each other down the road, when I snap and become depressive or childish. But I think I found my balance. She and Him. They have a name. I might or might not know them. But once I do... Finder's keepers.
---
"The Times They Are A-Changing" - Bob Dylan
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
i <3 GG MIA & Kyouya Cat
I think I can be the new Gossip Guy. Feels like everybody's all over the place these days and the dude set about reporting it is on vacation. I'll fill in.
Maybe he actually has a life. And the rest of us, by us I mean, the confused lost souls a la Hitachiin brothers, we don't have said life.
I was catching up on everyone's things. Marie is still heartbroken, I'm sending her some salve with a really cool Courtney Love CD, because nothing like girl power from a woman who lost the love of her life to drugs to cheer someone up... I think?
Caterina is off avoiding the love(s)? of HER life. But that's to me the epitome of a free spirit. So I like her like that.
Kyle realized he's found the woman he wanted to wake up next to and has become so whipped he gives Sparkle Edward a run for his money.
Vincenzo gave Madeleine an orange bead that she has on her arm and protects like an heirloom. Huh. Who'd have thought? Something must have happened there we don't even know about.
Caroline is off on an ego-trip thinking I give a damn about what she has to say to me. The media player with her orgasm on loop is not even one of the highlights off my blog. Goes to show some people do live in the clouds... while their husbands carry on sexually charged verbal matches with their own best friends.
Speaking of Elena, she's turned into a sleek, cool, calm and collected Cheetah. Now, I know everyone's already "in love" and all, but my guess is there's still some game in the hunting grounds. These rich people need to get a job.
Lucille is sorry she's done half the things she's done in life, including "using" me. Which she did. So long as I was useful, so long as I made her feel better, she kept me around, the moment she could "pull herself together" and no longer needed me, she wanted to suddenly tell me what was best for me. I get it that she wanted to do what was best for her, my respects to that, but when someone tells me that they have my best interest at heart, in a decision I have no say over... yeah that doesn't translate to me as being for "my best interest." It translates to: I've figured things out, now get out of my hair and here's a good excuse as to why.
Well I forgive her already. Why? Because I guess I just don't care enough either way. I had an idea of her, of the kind of friends we could be, and it got dashed pretty quickly, so now I'm seeing people for who they really are and I guess I should be thankful? I'm glad I met Lucille, even when I thought she was like me and ended up being nothing like me. We both learned something from the other. I hope. At least if anything, not to assume we know each other... or even who we're supposed to be with.
Which, according to her was, at least in my case, with the Queen of Ice.
But you know what?
On page 124, Maid Marion met Robin Hood.
When cold hits metal it becomes steel. And that's one hard ass material that can cut right through you, or make some damn fine jewelery. But when cold hits nature it just freezes. No matter how much a tree longs to see the winter, its leaves wither before the first frost bites its root.
Some people just belong together. And some just don't. We can't fight fate. Even I know that.
Me? I'm the Sheriff of Rottingham...
Who said it best? "There's a difference between those who are in love, and those who just say it". Jason Weiss, man, you've got some quotables, you will go on my tweet of fame when I reach some bulls-eye number like 10,000. And this is the man in question.
I didn't really see it coming. And Christian did, because he's a witch... He's totally a witch.
I don't know. I'm never sure where I fit into things. But I'm a Percy. That's gotta stand for something.
I feel calm about things too, like, there's something that's suddenly shifted into place. Isn't that weird? My life has never been more hectic and everything seems just right... even the fact that some people I thought belonged to me... just don't.
I'm the Sheriff of Rottingham. And everyone knows where he ends up at the end of the movie.
As for everyone that thought they had me and my love life figured out?
But hey, one thing that's cool about all these new arrangements... I'm back in the playing field, and this is aiming to turn into one hot and wild safari.
Maybe he actually has a life. And the rest of us, by us I mean, the confused lost souls a la Hitachiin brothers, we don't have said life.
I was catching up on everyone's things. Marie is still heartbroken, I'm sending her some salve with a really cool Courtney Love CD, because nothing like girl power from a woman who lost the love of her life to drugs to cheer someone up... I think?
Caterina is off avoiding the love(s)? of HER life. But that's to me the epitome of a free spirit. So I like her like that.
Kyle realized he's found the woman he wanted to wake up next to and has become so whipped he gives Sparkle Edward a run for his money.
Vincenzo gave Madeleine an orange bead that she has on her arm and protects like an heirloom. Huh. Who'd have thought? Something must have happened there we don't even know about.
Caroline is off on an ego-trip thinking I give a damn about what she has to say to me. The media player with her orgasm on loop is not even one of the highlights off my blog. Goes to show some people do live in the clouds... while their husbands carry on sexually charged verbal matches with their own best friends.
Speaking of Elena, she's turned into a sleek, cool, calm and collected Cheetah. Now, I know everyone's already "in love" and all, but my guess is there's still some game in the hunting grounds. These rich people need to get a job.
Lucille is sorry she's done half the things she's done in life, including "using" me. Which she did. So long as I was useful, so long as I made her feel better, she kept me around, the moment she could "pull herself together" and no longer needed me, she wanted to suddenly tell me what was best for me. I get it that she wanted to do what was best for her, my respects to that, but when someone tells me that they have my best interest at heart, in a decision I have no say over... yeah that doesn't translate to me as being for "my best interest." It translates to: I've figured things out, now get out of my hair and here's a good excuse as to why.
Well I forgive her already. Why? Because I guess I just don't care enough either way. I had an idea of her, of the kind of friends we could be, and it got dashed pretty quickly, so now I'm seeing people for who they really are and I guess I should be thankful? I'm glad I met Lucille, even when I thought she was like me and ended up being nothing like me. We both learned something from the other. I hope. At least if anything, not to assume we know each other... or even who we're supposed to be with.
Which, according to her was, at least in my case, with the Queen of Ice.
But you know what?
On page 124, Maid Marion met Robin Hood.
When cold hits metal it becomes steel. And that's one hard ass material that can cut right through you, or make some damn fine jewelery. But when cold hits nature it just freezes. No matter how much a tree longs to see the winter, its leaves wither before the first frost bites its root.
Some people just belong together. And some just don't. We can't fight fate. Even I know that.
Me? I'm the Sheriff of Rottingham...
Who said it best? "There's a difference between those who are in love, and those who just say it". Jason Weiss, man, you've got some quotables, you will go on my tweet of fame when I reach some bulls-eye number like 10,000. And this is the man in question.
I didn't really see it coming. And Christian did, because he's a witch... He's totally a witch.
I don't know. I'm never sure where I fit into things. But I'm a Percy. That's gotta stand for something.
I feel calm about things too, like, there's something that's suddenly shifted into place. Isn't that weird? My life has never been more hectic and everything seems just right... even the fact that some people I thought belonged to me... just don't.
I'm the Sheriff of Rottingham. And everyone knows where he ends up at the end of the movie.
As for everyone that thought they had me and my love life figured out?
But hey, one thing that's cool about all these new arrangements... I'm back in the playing field, and this is aiming to turn into one hot and wild safari.
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Playing The Angel
If you see me laughing. Assume that my blood is boiling. In the end, I'm glad Lucille DeltA Airlines has decided to "fly" to her own new brand new future. I'm glad she's clear on what she wants and that it ain't sex with me. I'm glad my presence helped her clear herself up, because I strive to make one good deed, one messed up whore at a time.
Ha--fucking--ha.
Caroline used my body and then dumped me for her perfect life. Lucille took it to another level, she didn't even need my body, all she needed was my "essence". Me being "there" was enough, and now she's dumped me for her perfect future.
Though duh she gets to do that. I'm her bro. We're total friends. I know her very well. She's looking out for herself. She wants what's best for herself. Respect to that. I agree. And she thinks she knows what's best for me.
Right?
Flat no. Not a chance. Not even Einstein's neurons could conjure them up. Screw Interpol's deductive training. I'm guessing a conversation that starts with "I'm sorry" never heads in a good direction. And one that discusses along the middle "Aren't you in love with...?" followed by "I don't want to hurt you" is probably sliding further downward on the dumb-assumptions scope. Never mind one that ends in "I'll be there for you" followed by a quick disappearance. Yeah. Hello empty space. Thank you for always being there for me too.
And speaking of flat... I should have a fee. I'll fix you up good for a blow job. You'd think at the very least I'd live to see that. At least Caroline delivered... but Lucille? Oh Lucille, you sly little fox. With your boo-hoo's and your hoo-haa's you slithered under the radar and scored the best of both worlds. Got your friend and ate it too. Kept your body and your dignity, and got off Scot-free from a deal with the devil.
And I got to play the angel. Cause duh, we're such bros! Hell I felt incestuous just looking at your face! Chums like us know each other like a Hollywood Insider! I've got my bitch's back baby! She ma ho! You mess with her an' you be trippin'!
What a hoot!
Erase and Rewind.
Caroline... When the fuck did I establish myself as "Your Ho" material.
Erase and Double Rewind.
Lucille... When the fuck did I establish myself as "Your Bro" material. I'm re-recording all over this history.
Now who's laughing?
No Such Thing As Cute
Redheads tend to dump me. Caroline used me like a disco stick (hence the blog identity) and Lucille went bipolar on my ass (I will, in fact, pay tribute to this in a creative way, to be announced soon). Lucille appears and disappears, (A Peek-a... wait for it...--BOO). One day she decides I'm important, the next she bails. One day I'm telling her I like her, she listens, then somehow she becomes deaf and makes up her own theories of my words, splatters them on the walls of her head and blows me off.
Redheads annoy me, and they don't fucking listen. They're convenient, they get it, they hear you and they only pull what they want, what they need. Redheads dry you up. They're dense females. A certain Duke would know.
Except for one, which I've been decidedly too chicken shit to date. Anna. I like Anna. Anna is good. Anna has a phone number. I should call her. Maybe she's my Rory?
Wow. That was mean, even for me. I'm sorry. I'm not the unapologetic type. When I fuck up, I apologize, always.
Anna is not my Rory, Lucille is not my Caroline and Christian is not my Veronique. I play favorites, I do, temporarily, sporadically, out of control, but measured. I'm too young be so damn serious about everything.
Why does everyone want everything so fucking figured out?
I have intense relationship with men. Michelangelo was my love, and Anna was my first crush. I've grown up since then. I've faced people, life and heaps of shit. I've also discovered gardens, sugar addicts and bartenders.
I have a thin line between me and all the people in my life. I haven't decided which one I'm going to break. I haven't decided if I'm going to reach through that line to one particular girl, or to one particular guy.
Christian is the closest to me right now, because he's my step-brother, so there's more between us than I've ever had with anyone else. He knows though, that there's a side of me saved especially for her. But we don't know who "her" is yet. That girl I plan to become someone else with. That girl that will take my relationships with women from "fucked up" to "intense" in a millisecond. I say this in earnest. I have many faces, but they're all me, one way or another. And each belong to one person in particular. Not all of them belong to a "the one" just yet.
I connected with Christian, quicker and more intensely than with other people. I connect with men, quicker than with women. I have more experience with men emotionally and with women sexually. I've never been the receiving end when it comes to my sexuality, neither with men or women. I give it to them. Always.
I'm not as emotionally developed as I should be at this age. But my asshole development is advanced and quite compounded. I've mastered the art of bullshit to a T. Negative or Positive consequences be damned, so far as I know, that's what I'm allowed to do.
I feel safe with my brother. There's a safe place in my life with him. But there's still a thread, thin threads nobody walks. For all my connection to the man, and I classify him as "the" man, I do not know him that well. I'm not always sure what he's thinking, I'm not always foremost in his thoughts either. There's a part of him that also just belongs to "her". Another woman, as well, that he picks, whomever that is.
We understand each other, what we want out of people, out of life, out of ourselves. Yes, we are connected in a private personal way that is also all our own. There is love in what we have, because Christian does what nobody else does with me, he loves me openly, he takes the risk to express it and let me know it. He gives back. We're friends, we're family, we're like an old married couple on crack.
Then there's "her". That girl I'm undecided about. Then there's "me" and all those secret identities. And then there's redheads, who just fuck with my head and should stick to fucking with themselves. Seriously.
And Veronique, an owl I want to keep in my pocket.
"I'm kind of tired of getting screwed over." That's what I said years ago. Looks like the words caught up with me, cause now nobody's screwing with me. Everyone's a little bit afraid. And you know what? They're right. They should be. Lord knows what I'll do. But I can state something matter of fact: Whatever I'm going to do, it won't be unplanned. When you leave the house looking up at the sky in awe, you don't notice yourself stepping on dog shit. I look to the ground, I see where I'm walking, I gauge my steps. I plan ahead because everyone's a Poodle these days.
I don't have an internal GPS, I don't know what direction anyone wants to take. I don't know how to get to my prefered destination. I just have signs guiding me. Good ol' fashioned human signs.
Right now the street have so many different signs pointing in different directions. Who's to stop me from exploring them all.
I've seen the road, and I can skip the landmines. Caroline and her abusiveness, Veronique and her neurosis, Christian and his camouflage, Michelangelo and his denial, Lucille and her capriciousness... and then there's Anna, who I've yet to call up.
I really should stop being such a chicken shit and call her, but then I'll get to know her. Maybe I like torturing myself with the notion that somewhere out there is a perfect woman for me, a redhead with cute freckles that I've admired since I was 12. That I'll meet up with her when I'm 80 and say "hey chickie... I used to like you when I we were young" and she'll turn to me and say "What do you know old chap, I liked you too" and then we'll hold wrinkly old hands together and smile knowingly, squeezing those last drops of life from our fingers, looking at the horizon and death together thinking "wow... life sure is cute."
But that will never happen. Because when I'm 80 years old I'll resort to drinking Viagra, I'll want to hit up a screeching Veronique to mess with her, I'll want to shut up Lucille's senile whining with some sort of highly inappropriate bondage, I'll want to make illegal pedophilic-looking passes at my own brother (Who, as we've always suspected, turns out to be a vampire for whom at that point I'll look 60 years his senior), I'll want to tease Michelangelo's ear with petulant requests just to make his lover jealous, I'll want to throw my walking stick at Caroline and hope it smacks her droopy ass on the way, heh, at her age, she'd fall over. All a-giggles.
So while I'd love option A. I'd enjoy more an option B. I'm sure from here to the end of my life, a C option will show up and shut me the fuck up. That girl, who is still blurry in mind, will reach out and break the thread that separates us, she'll squeeze her way into my cluttered world, she won't give a damn, she'll have the nerve and the balls to surprise me.. Until then, I guess I won't hope for a cute ending.
But I'm still hoping for a happy one.
Just like women hope for a blue prince, I'm hoping for my devil-in-red princess.
Now where are you, you dumb slore?
Wednesday, September 16, 2009
Ebb And Flow
Well. Lucille has suddenly disappeared. Apparently she's got a bunch of fashion shows and she's off to get a boyfriend. Girl is fickle dude!
Ima gonna charge my 30 days whether it's now or takes 30 years. It'll be like the Slap Bet on How I Met Your Mother. You'll never know when it's coming.
On the other hand, a huge storm is brewing over by London. I am going to hell. I can't wait for it to just open up and rain on everyone's parade.
I guess there's also a sick sense of pleasure that my predictions go against someone else I know.
But you know. I'm just saying.
Anyway.
Ima gonna charge my 30 days whether it's now or takes 30 years. It'll be like the Slap Bet on How I Met Your Mother. You'll never know when it's coming.
On the other hand, a huge storm is brewing over by London. I am going to hell. I can't wait for it to just open up and rain on everyone's parade.
I guess there's also a sick sense of pleasure that my predictions go against someone else I know.
But you know. I'm just saying.
Anyway.
HOW TO DRINK A BEER
Dude it's easy, just pop the cap and slurp away.
Cheers!
I'm kind of all happy now, because I just added one of my new favorite albums to my blog. It's called "Broken Cities" by See The World (www.seetheworldmusic.com) I don't know what it is about that first song, and another one called "Losing To Win", oh, and "Paintings". I just like the lyrics in general. They sort of remind me of Keane, or Coldplay, only they sound softer, it's just really smooth music.
I know, grunge King Nathaniel, listening to ebb and flow. Hey, at least it's not Hair Metal and Guitar Hero.
Dude it's easy, just pop the cap and slurp away.
Cheers!
I'm kind of all happy now, because I just added one of my new favorite albums to my blog. It's called "Broken Cities" by See The World (www.seetheworldmusic.com) I don't know what it is about that first song, and another one called "Losing To Win", oh, and "Paintings". I just like the lyrics in general. They sort of remind me of Keane, or Coldplay, only they sound softer, it's just really smooth music.
I know, grunge King Nathaniel, listening to ebb and flow. Hey, at least it's not Hair Metal and Guitar Hero.
Sunday, September 6, 2009
Most Girls I Meet Are Quite Savage
I'm a gemini. I get bored easily.
So today I'm going to talk about my bro Christian.
Fact #1. He's mega yummy.
He's strong and determined. He has a temper to match his body and dude, that body is ALL hard. He's a sporty guy, so he's very fit (that's what I meant by the way? pervs) and he does crazy dangerous things like ride horses and hit balls with long iron sticks.
Hehe.
And he looooooooooooves me. He kisses me goodnight and everything. Yeah I know what you're thinking. Oh yeah. He hugs and kisses me and wuvs me. How's that for a little creepy with your breakfast?
He doesn't quite worship me the way Nicholas does, but well, Christian is the older brother in this little family shindig so he's supposed to be the more mature type, right?
He has a secret place that I'm going to reveal one day, right here! A la PEREZ HILTON.
Ok I'm kidding. If my brother ever deigned to tell me his secrets, I would never publish them. If he deigned. But he hasn't.
Fact #2. He keeps secrets from me.
LE GASP OF SHOKU. I know!!!! I mean, from ME! ME! His precious younger brother! His SUN! His MOON! His WEED--er--FLOWER!
How dare he?!
Well, I'd squeeze it out of him but I'm afraid he might punch me. You see all in all...
Fact #3. Despite appearances, Christian is a violent guy.
I mean, granted, this can be useful when he's, say, trying to protect me from old perverts who want to cop a feel of my sweet sweet bisexual ass.
But for the most part, it's just a slightly scary warning sign slapped on his perfectly calm forehead.
You know what? I should train, and then test his temper, and see if I can take him. I oughtta! Once upon a time, I could slam Michelangelo into a wall... then again he was usually permissive because the slamming was followed with some heavy making out BUT STILL GODDAMNIT.
Yes, that will be my mission, to make:
Fact #4. I can totallly take him
TRUE.
Hey, I've had to fend off my share of men when he's not around, and I've got a mean right hook!
Plus I look cute doing it, and who else can say THAT? Am I right? Am I right?
Now who's your disco daddy?
Squiggles,
Disco Stick
So today I'm going to talk about my bro Christian.
Fact #1. He's mega yummy.
He's strong and determined. He has a temper to match his body and dude, that body is ALL hard. He's a sporty guy, so he's very fit (that's what I meant by the way? pervs) and he does crazy dangerous things like ride horses and hit balls with long iron sticks.
Hehe.
And he looooooooooooves me. He kisses me goodnight and everything. Yeah I know what you're thinking. Oh yeah. He hugs and kisses me and wuvs me. How's that for a little creepy with your breakfast?
He doesn't quite worship me the way Nicholas does, but well, Christian is the older brother in this little family shindig so he's supposed to be the more mature type, right?
He has a secret place that I'm going to reveal one day, right here! A la PEREZ HILTON.
Ok I'm kidding. If my brother ever deigned to tell me his secrets, I would never publish them. If he deigned. But he hasn't.
Fact #2. He keeps secrets from me.
LE GASP OF SHOKU. I know!!!! I mean, from ME! ME! His precious younger brother! His SUN! His MOON! His WEED--er--FLOWER!
How dare he?!
Well, I'd squeeze it out of him but I'm afraid he might punch me. You see all in all...
Fact #3. Despite appearances, Christian is a violent guy.
I mean, granted, this can be useful when he's, say, trying to protect me from old perverts who want to cop a feel of my sweet sweet bisexual ass.
But for the most part, it's just a slightly scary warning sign slapped on his perfectly calm forehead.
You know what? I should train, and then test his temper, and see if I can take him. I oughtta! Once upon a time, I could slam Michelangelo into a wall... then again he was usually permissive because the slamming was followed with some heavy making out BUT STILL GODDAMNIT.
Yes, that will be my mission, to make:
Fact #4. I can totallly take him
TRUE.
Hey, I've had to fend off my share of men when he's not around, and I've got a mean right hook!
Plus I look cute doing it, and who else can say THAT? Am I right? Am I right?
Now who's your disco daddy?
Squiggles,
Disco Stick
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Confessions of an Emoholic
Bang.
Way to shoot me with my issues Lucille "I HAVE MORE FACES THAN A GEMINI" Delton.
I don't self-analyze much, it's not my style, because I know who I am. I have to clarify this here in MY blog, lest someone think I'm populating THEIR blog. I was going to leave this as a comment, but it sort of turned into an entry, and why not? If the world knows it just makes for better coffee conversation.
First, let me clarify why I dedicate oh so much blog space to Lucille Delton and bet shit like move in with her for 30 days and call her names and abuse and taunt her.
Obviously, I like her.
Like you didn't see that coming.
There's more to it. Out of all the people that populate this sinister limbo of life, Lucille is the one most like me. Which is at times cute and at others kinda scary. I'd love it if we were very similar, but we're not. Yes, I know that just makes what I said confusing. Here's the deal:
Way to shoot me with my issues Lucille "I HAVE MORE FACES THAN A GEMINI" Delton.
I don't self-analyze much, it's not my style, because I know who I am. I have to clarify this here in MY blog, lest someone think I'm populating THEIR blog. I was going to leave this as a comment, but it sort of turned into an entry, and why not? If the world knows it just makes for better coffee conversation.
First, let me clarify why I dedicate oh so much blog space to Lucille Delton and bet shit like move in with her for 30 days and call her names and abuse and taunt her.
Obviously, I like her.
Like you didn't see that coming.
There's more to it. Out of all the people that populate this sinister limbo of life, Lucille is the one most like me. Which is at times cute and at others kinda scary. I'd love it if we were very similar, but we're not. Yes, I know that just makes what I said confusing. Here's the deal:
Why SheHoe and Narthurloony are alike:
a. We were born in the same year. We're the same age. In limbo land, we were born in the same generation and got tossed to the side by our no-good parents.
b. We were both extremely good at being extremely bad.
c. We both went through the spiritual transformation equivalent of winning The Biggest Loser Reality TV Show.
d. We both got a second chance to prove ourselves to other people.
e. We both switch careers like crazy people.
a. We were born in the same year. We're the same age. In limbo land, we were born in the same generation and got tossed to the side by our no-good parents.
b. We were both extremely good at being extremely bad.
c. We both went through the spiritual transformation equivalent of winning The Biggest Loser Reality TV Show.
d. We both got a second chance to prove ourselves to other people.
e. We both switch careers like crazy people.
But this is where the similarities end. We're not very similar at all. We have these things in common that appear fundamental but at the core we're very different.
So I set myself up to comparison, saying that we're alike, and we both said it when we met. But when I see Loony Lucy running around and wetting her bed linens with mopey tears, I know for sure we're nothing alike.
And that's where we are so different.
I see this girl, making every possible move to change or be herself or turn into someone else and I think to myself. Wow. You're aware that's never gonna happen.
A leopard doesn't change its spots. You can dress up the leopard, you can tame it, you can calm it down, but it's still and will always be a wild predator.
Lucille, you're a nice girl. A nice girl, who is extremely good at being extremely bad. You're a femme fatale under wraps. You should be an international spy killing bad ass mofos, sleeping with random men a la Bond, Jane Bond and coming home to a loving husband who doesn't care if you slept with half the world and left a trail of blood so long as you share with him you're favorite chai vanilla tea and smile.
You're a hell of a lot more fun than Ashley is. You just don't know it.
Why do I bother you so much? Because you're killing that awesome chick. You want people to like you but their opinions don't matter. You feel left out from your family because the Deltons don't really love you, they see you as a tool and the moment I saw you I knew that was the one thing you needed. Love. I said that word and your whole universe just went KABOOOM for some reason. Suddenly you were rampant in search for love, and depressed because you'd realized you didn't have it. And you started turning into different women, Lucia's, Pucia's, Lucillia's, wtf? I don't know? Like turning into different women would get you someone who loved anyone of THOSE women. Like any of these women held the answer to who you truly are.
LIKE YOUR GRANNY KNOWS WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE.
I totally dig that you and my step-brother gave it a go, but it failed. I like that, because Christian wasn't dating Lucille. He was dating Lucille-who-wants-to-run-away-from-Lucille. A girl within a girl. At least, that's the Lucille I saw, because I met you years ago, before any of these other people existed and I observed you. If that is who you are now, then hey, ok, you succeeded in transforming yourself, good for you, I'm sure you'll make it work. But if there's even a slight hint of who you were inside of all that glitz, that's a girl I seriously dug. If she's gone, then I don't mind having sex with your body and pretending that's the real one I'm fucking.
I set myself up a lot, and that has never changed. For example, in the past, I dated this girl, Katrina (or she who should NEVER be named) and I only did it to piss off my little brother. Nicholas, I don't think you've met him? I didn't like Katrina, not really. She was a virgin and I wanted to pop her cherry. I wanted to see Nicholas cry. I wanted to show him who was boss. End of story. I'm a mean guy.
I haven't stopped being this guy. If anything I've just become better at it.
I knew this was toxic, I knew it. But did that stop me? Noooo. I follow through with whatever sick game I'm playing until the very end. I drop hints only every now and then, far down the line, when I know they'll do the most damage, or when I know they'll at least register shock.
So here's my confession of the day: I didn't fuck Caroline because I liked Caroline. I fucked Caroline because she reminds me of Lucille Delton; just a dumber, more boring and flat-chested version.
This confession may not matter to you at this point, but it matters to me. And hey, this is MY blog after all. See, I'm respectful of people's space.
Toodles,
Disco Stick
So I set myself up to comparison, saying that we're alike, and we both said it when we met. But when I see Loony Lucy running around and wetting her bed linens with mopey tears, I know for sure we're nothing alike.
I never tried to actually find myself.
And that's where we are so different.
I see this girl, making every possible move to change or be herself or turn into someone else and I think to myself. Wow. You're aware that's never gonna happen.
A leopard doesn't change its spots. You can dress up the leopard, you can tame it, you can calm it down, but it's still and will always be a wild predator.
Lucille, you're a nice girl. A nice girl, who is extremely good at being extremely bad. You're a femme fatale under wraps. You should be an international spy killing bad ass mofos, sleeping with random men a la Bond, Jane Bond and coming home to a loving husband who doesn't care if you slept with half the world and left a trail of blood so long as you share with him you're favorite chai vanilla tea and smile.
You're a hell of a lot more fun than Ashley is. You just don't know it.
Why do I bother you so much? Because you're killing that awesome chick. You want people to like you but their opinions don't matter. You feel left out from your family because the Deltons don't really love you, they see you as a tool and the moment I saw you I knew that was the one thing you needed. Love. I said that word and your whole universe just went KABOOOM for some reason. Suddenly you were rampant in search for love, and depressed because you'd realized you didn't have it. And you started turning into different women, Lucia's, Pucia's, Lucillia's, wtf? I don't know? Like turning into different women would get you someone who loved anyone of THOSE women. Like any of these women held the answer to who you truly are.
LIKE YOUR GRANNY KNOWS WHO THE FUCK YOU ARE.
I totally dig that you and my step-brother gave it a go, but it failed. I like that, because Christian wasn't dating Lucille. He was dating Lucille-who-wants-to-run-away-from-Lucille. A girl within a girl. At least, that's the Lucille I saw, because I met you years ago, before any of these other people existed and I observed you. If that is who you are now, then hey, ok, you succeeded in transforming yourself, good for you, I'm sure you'll make it work. But if there's even a slight hint of who you were inside of all that glitz, that's a girl I seriously dug. If she's gone, then I don't mind having sex with your body and pretending that's the real one I'm fucking.
I set myself up a lot, and that has never changed. For example, in the past, I dated this girl, Katrina (or she who should NEVER be named) and I only did it to piss off my little brother. Nicholas, I don't think you've met him? I didn't like Katrina, not really. She was a virgin and I wanted to pop her cherry. I wanted to see Nicholas cry. I wanted to show him who was boss. End of story. I'm a mean guy.
I haven't stopped being this guy. If anything I've just become better at it.
I knew this was toxic, I knew it. But did that stop me? Noooo. I follow through with whatever sick game I'm playing until the very end. I drop hints only every now and then, far down the line, when I know they'll do the most damage, or when I know they'll at least register shock.
So here's my confession of the day: I didn't fuck Caroline because I liked Caroline. I fucked Caroline because she reminds me of Lucille Delton; just a dumber, more boring and flat-chested version.
This confession may not matter to you at this point, but it matters to me. And hey, this is MY blog after all. See, I'm respectful of people's space.
Toodles,
Disco Stick
Friday, September 4, 2009
The Dancer!
Your International Spy Name is Viper Swan |
 Your Code Name: The Dancer You Reside in: Amsterdam Why You're a Good Spy: You're a goooooooood lover |
Because sometimes I do random Blog thingies, memes and quizzes. Now check out my real post of the day!
A Little Less You, A Little More Me
I know we won't be the only ones here, there's also Christian and Marie who are moving in not too far down the road, and I heard Vincenzo is visiting his cousin Giovanni over in Rome, he'll probably drop by for no reason. All in all, things seem like they'll be a little bit crowded.
My motif though, isn't so much to enjoy the melange of peoples dropping in, but to see if I can make sense of the point of Lucille Delton among us once and for all. There's several options, I can fuck it out of her, I can slap it out of her, I can yell it out of her, or I can ignore the hell out of her, blindfold her, gag her, tie her up and pretend I'm fucking Caroline.
I kid around a lot, but I make up for my childishness with a lack of sensitivity. Not the Eric "Whoops, I'm a douche" kind either.
Lucille and I are very similar. Except I have a cock, and a pair of cojones. And she's just a big pussy.
She just likes to mope and complain. Because she didn't get what she wanted. Because nobody she wants pays attention to her (Though people she doesn't give a flying fuck about do pay attention, but ah! those don't matter). Because nobody is giving it to her good every night with a chunk of soulmate syndrome (Which might I add, I put into the equation). Same as I dregged up her old lame' ass carcass from the ground (See initial entries) and challenged her to become someone. I also put the notion into her head that she wasn't just a fucking machine but a human being deserving of love.
All of this and she still stares at me like I'm wearing a bad Santa Claus suit in the middle of thanksgiving?
Oh really.
She's not alone in the world, or misunderstood or ignored. She's just a stuck up little princess. And you know what I do with stuck up princess types? Ask me. I'm a sadist.
Princess ABooBoo is a spoiled crybaby who thinks she has all of us figured out. Except she doesn't. And she won't.
Ever.
Because masochists don't work that way.
And a masochist is what she is. Guilty as charged and forever bawling her woes out, amen.
Or you know, she'll turn into a complete psycho... that'll make me laugh my ass off.
And I do like watching comedies.
30 Days of Milan. I know what my purpose with this is. Now let's begin.
Squiggles,
Hoot
ABooBoo... U Want Ze Sexy Time?
Heck I'm so horny lately my green hat is pointy, and that's just my blog cartoon.
I don't know what it is, maybe it's the whole fever thing, makes me think of "Captain Smith and Pocahontas, had a very mad affair, when her daddy tried to kill him, she said daddy oh don't you dare he gives me feeeeeever."
I love that song.
Anyhoo, I'm gonna get laid for the next 30 days with Princess ABooBoo. Now, I don't think it's fair for her to just jump into the sack with me.
So here's to you ABooBoo, a little preview of what's to come. That way you won't be like "Hey! I never got a trailer for this extremely long extended edition of the Lord of the Rings installment!"
Unhu, you know what I mean.
Here's Caroline the Tweetie Twat:
OH NO I DIDN'T... Oh yes I did. Recorded that on my blackberry voice note.
There's a 30 Things Bucket List of sorts for the next thirty days. Now that's great and all, and I do plan to be a bother, oh hell, a bother won't come close. And I will of course amuse beyond that and go through with the Bucket List. But I'm not sure I need a list. As Amerie would say, "it's this one thing oh oh".
I honestly have only one goal in mind, and it sure as hell ain't to be friends. Right toots? Muah!
<3
Squiggles,
Disco Stick
Who's your pointy master biatch!
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Cup of Tea? Anyone?
Humankind is destined to rot and swell up and die. Humankind is evil to its kin. No one will cut you a break if you give them the benefit of the doubt. No one will give you a second chance. So I'm young and I'm pissed, and I don't care anymore. ~ Lucille "Don't Give A Damn" DeltonSo, um... I'm moving in to your apartment at a good time, right?
...
I've cared about others expecting something in return. I was so wrong. In the end, we all fend for ourselves. A smile is not returned with a smile in this world. ~ Lucille "World Has Fucked Me Over Enough" Delton
Does that mean you won't brew me some of your famous tea? Or make me a Sicilian Cassata as a welcome gift? Or a Chicken Taquito?... a campbell's soup?
...
What I'm going to do? Who the hell cares? Maybe I'll take over Eric's little throne. Maybe I WILL be the first female to lead the Deltons. Why not? Maybe I'll go to Japan and visit Tokyo Tower. Why not? Whatever I want. Whatever I feel like doing. ~ Lucille "I'M MORE EMO THAN YOU" Delton
Ok we need to get one thing straight. Bitch you ain't going nowhere for a month, not while I'm around. We made a deal, and you're sealing it, consensually or tied up and screaming. Because I'm willing to do both. Then we'll see who feels like a damn great fucking (Keyword: Fucking) woman.
How's that for my cup of tea? Only a couple more hours till my flight lands! See you there honeybuns!
Rowr.
The Big Comeback
Yeah, I was gonna write some sort of big comeback, but the guy sleeping next to me on the airplane had a huge hissy fit and now they're making all of us turn off our electronic equipment, lest he start shouting "TERRORIST ACTIVITY" again.
I'm moving in with Lucille. Whee. There are more people coming along for the ride, and this might turn fun fun fun or naaaaasty.
Well. All in good cheer.
Hehe.
My new catch phrase: "Take a hit, not a hike"
HA! Suck it McDouche.
MUAH
Kisses and hugs from your sparkly disco stick ;)
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Twitter Whore / Crush-whore
I can't help it, it's totally true, this is what I become when I'm in my twitter mode: http://tinyurl.com/86njv9
Anyway, lots of stuff have been happening lately. #1, apparently in the world of crazy people getting wiped out by mysterious shadow creatures an actual story is being formulated. That is exciting, we see a plot yet!
#2 I have the hots for way too many people, I'm starting to think I'm a crush-whore.
#3 I had like way more to say a couple of days ago, but I ended up updating today and now I don't have that much to say... not even bothered by it, normally I'd be pissed off but meh.
#4 I should be at the gym right now. In fact, I'm starting to think today will be one of those days where I'm all dressed in my gym clothes and don't actually get around to moving my ass.
THERE IS HOPE YET: Around 6-ish or 7-ish, I might start playing Wii Fit. Har Har. It's not the same, I won't be burning off my usual 400 cals. B-U-T <3 I'll be doing friggin something and that's enough reason to be wearing my tennis shoes now.
Why am I so lazy today? It's friggin wednesday!
Hmm... I must get a twitter program for my Lord Percy. (BB)
Welcome to the blog world Lucille!
Anyway, lots of stuff have been happening lately. #1, apparently in the world of crazy people getting wiped out by mysterious shadow creatures an actual story is being formulated. That is exciting, we see a plot yet!
#2 I have the hots for way too many people, I'm starting to think I'm a crush-whore.
#3 I had like way more to say a couple of days ago, but I ended up updating today and now I don't have that much to say... not even bothered by it, normally I'd be pissed off but meh.
#4 I should be at the gym right now. In fact, I'm starting to think today will be one of those days where I'm all dressed in my gym clothes and don't actually get around to moving my ass.
THERE IS HOPE YET: Around 6-ish or 7-ish, I might start playing Wii Fit. Har Har. It's not the same, I won't be burning off my usual 400 cals. B-U-T <3 I'll be doing friggin something and that's enough reason to be wearing my tennis shoes now.
Why am I so lazy today? It's friggin wednesday!
Hmm... I must get a twitter program for my Lord Percy. (BB)
Welcome to the blog world Lucille!
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Behind The Scenes
I've been all over the world, I got reminded of that today while I stared at Christian's car keys. He has a little elephant mini-totem I brought from Sri Lanka.
I'm quite adopted in case you didn't know. I am perfectly fine with this, I'm 22 and SO over it. But my former French half-sister still sends me embarrassing letters.
But today we had a little flash to the past. Suddenly everything can make sense. Sounds exciting... but now it's my turn to say: He worries me.
At the same time, for the briefest moment I re-lived a bit of those past feelings I had for Michelangelo. You'd think they'd never died. I also quasi-established that Veronique would be my wife. I wonder where that's all headed. Never mind that one of the reasons I got kicked out from my last foster family was for sleeping with my young step-brother's girlfriend... and then with him.
That's all in the past though right? ... Right?
I'm not there right now. I'm here. February 18. 18/2 - 2/18
Right now, I just want to rest my head on his heart, see if I can calm it down, because I need it to keep beating steady and healthy. We're barely getting started.
I love him.
I Fix You
I feel kind of weird, like my hormones are on a rampage. Ok enough pregnant dude talk.
I had a panini today and boy did I miss eating bread at least ONCE a day. I'd had cereal this morning around 7 AM and tonight I'll probably have some de-hydrated veggie soup. Don't know whether to say "yum" yet.
I have a new crack device. Let's see how that goes.
I'm kind of missing someone... the day's barely getting started.
Found an online image editor that works great if you don't have Photoshop installed (like me, because my laptop is crappage)
www.pixlr.com
It's one of those extremely useful url's like tinypic, tinyurl or twitter.
Tofu in the DR
I'm going to the BVM now, because I need to fetch myself some pills. I didn't know that starting a diet meant I'd be a Space Man. I mean, isn't this what we'll eat in the future? PILLS?
Regardless, I'm experimenting with the notion of making a city guide blog for all closeted wannabe vegans out there in the DR. Any suggestions for names?
"Taquito Verde" anyone?
It sounds exciting and gives me a reason to go to the office. The only bad part is I'll have to take my crappage of a computer.
On the (TBA): Today I get my BB.
TBA: Upside or Downside
Regardless, I'm experimenting with the notion of making a city guide blog for all closeted wannabe vegans out there in the DR. Any suggestions for names?
"Taquito Verde" anyone?
It sounds exciting and gives me a reason to go to the office. The only bad part is I'll have to take my crappage of a computer.
On the (TBA): Today I get my BB.
TBA: Upside or Downside
Good Vibrations, Cue Song.
So this is the result of "changing your frequency" in a diet huh? Every time I start a new diet, or I'm starting to get the hang of a new diet, I tend to go spastic.
I woke up at 7 AM today. Is that the hour GOD wants me awake or what? Sun came out and hit me in the eyes and you know what, I felt someone next to me get up and leave somewhere.
Huh. Where do you go that early in the morning?
It's 8:30 now, and most children are wrapping up first period at school. I graduated years ago, I'm a young, promising start-up entrepreneur of the new millennium. I do not need this early wake up crap!
I woke up at 7 AM today. Is that the hour GOD wants me awake or what? Sun came out and hit me in the eyes and you know what, I felt someone next to me get up and leave somewhere.
Huh. Where do you go that early in the morning?
It's 8:30 now, and most children are wrapping up first period at school. I graduated years ago, I'm a young, promising start-up entrepreneur of the new millennium. I do not need this early wake up crap!
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
As a good kink would say... "You Don't Say"
According to Doreen Virtue's Angels (Or ALL angels? I guess?):
"All food has vibration, and you want to vibrate as high and fine as you feel attuned to. Eat a diet of fresh fruits and vegetables, nuts, and whole grains, which have the highest vibrational frequencies. Avoid meats, dairy, alcohol, sugar, chocolate, and caffeine, which have the lowest vibrations. And remember that the essence of all foods you eat affects you long after the food is digested and gone."
So... that rules out pizza?
"All food has vibration, and you want to vibrate as high and fine as you feel attuned to. Eat a diet of fresh fruits and vegetables, nuts, and whole grains, which have the highest vibrational frequencies. Avoid meats, dairy, alcohol, sugar, chocolate, and caffeine, which have the lowest vibrations. And remember that the essence of all foods you eat affects you long after the food is digested and gone."
So... that rules out pizza?
Who wants to be my trainer?
Cardio for 20 minutes every day? (Check)
Protein for breakfast, proteins and veggies for lunch and soup or cereal for dinner? (Check)
Tea, Water and Soy Milk? (Check)
Yoga? (Check)
Weight Loss: None
I must be from another planet.
Protein for breakfast, proteins and veggies for lunch and soup or cereal for dinner? (Check)
Tea, Water and Soy Milk? (Check)
Yoga? (Check)
Weight Loss: None
I must be from another planet.
Nude
If I'm going all out there, might as well make it a project. I'm posing nude for a David Rose. I'll let you guys know when the show opens at the NY Gallery... I think it's supposed to be used for an exhibit and then an auction of sorts. It's for a good cause. Proceeds will be donated to... I'll get back to you on that one.
From: Owl / To: Kink & Bee
This is the Leather Pride Flag. Yes, such a thing exists. For all you deviants with S&M in their heads. I wonder who will tout it more proudly.
I Didn't Expect This To Be Accurate
It's cool to blog about yourself sometimes, so long as it doesn't turn obsessive (huh). Like you're possessed by a demon or something... you know? ;)
I took the Jung Personality Test & Career Indicator. I wonder why Elizabeth doesn't just do that? I mean, no use wondering around endlessly about yourself. Most answers are pretty darn simple.
I'm The Composer:
More than the other Artisans, Composers are in tune with their senses, and so have a sure grasp of what belongs, and what doesn't belong, in all kinds of works of art. While the other Artisans are skilled with people, tools, and entertainment, Composers have an exceptional ability-seemingly inborn-to work with subtle differences in color, tone, texture, aroma, and flavor.I'm shocked to say I relate. In fact, now I'm more inspired than ever. I think I'll work on that song now, or my version of the ratatouille.
Although Composers often put long, lonely hours into their artistry, they are just as impulsive as the other Artisans. They do not wait to consider their moves; rather, they act in the here and now, with little or no planning or preparation. Composers are seized by the act of artistic composition, as if caught up in a whirlwind. The act is their master, not the reverse. Composers paint or sculpt, they dance or skate, they write melodies or make recipes-or whatever-simply because they must. They climb the mountain because it is there.
This ability to lose themselves in action accounts for the spectacular individual accomplishments of some Composers, and yet on their social side they show a kindness unmatched by all the other types. Composers are especially sensitive to the pain and suffering of others, and they sympathize freely with the sufferer. Some have a remarkable way with young children, almost as if there were a natural bond of sympathy and trust between them. A similar bond may be seen between some Composers and animals, even wild animals. Many Composers have an instinctive longing for the wilds, and nature seems to welcome them.
Composers are just as plentiful as the other Artisans, say nine or ten per cent of the population, but in general they are very difficult to observe and thus greatly misunderstood. Very likely the difficulty comes from their tendency not to express themselves verbally, but through their works of art. Composers are usually not interested in developing ability in public speaking, or even in the art of conversation; they prefer to feel the pulse of life by touch, in the muscles, in the eyes, in the ears, on the tongue. Make no mistake, Composers are just as interested as other types in sharing their view of the world, and if they find a medium of non-verbal communication-some art form-then they will express their character quite eloquently. If not, they simply remain unknown, their quietness leaving their character all but invisible.
Monday, February 16, 2009
PWP
What's better than a disco stick? Porn Without Point. -Hence Title (Look Up)- So here's my personal collaboration:
Caroline and I had sex. Leonardo dragged her back into the cave. I'm sure there's a good explanation somewhere of why those two never break up and honestly check out other people. Maybe Caroline's afraid Leo's an ass deep down willing to get emotionally involved, maybe it's the other way around, maybe there's another reason and it's visible... but I just can't find it...
Love? Is that what you call knocking up?
Regardless, she's still a better bet for kicks than certain people I've already tweeted about. I feel used.
But my fix works.
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