| (no subject) |
[Jun. 14th, 2007|08:10 pm] |
Listen, I'd take the damn medication if you'd just get an intelligent receptionist who could schedule a damn appointment. How many times do I have to show up before actually getting to see someone?
Jeez. |
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| She's dressed to kill. |
[Jan. 22nd, 2007|03:36 pm] |
This is a downward spiral. Everything that could possibly go wrong in the past few weeks, has indeed blown the fuck up.
Most of it is my fault. I have a wicked temper, an overindulgent imagination and an ego the size of a fucking mountain.
It doesn't matter, but I'm sorry. I wish you'd say the same.
thanks.bye. |
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| I' |
[Dec. 9th, 2006|12:55 pm] |
Contrary to popular belief, I was not stabbed by a homeless European stuck in America, Killed by the Mafia for trying to reveal the location of J. Hoffa, gunned down in a Texas showdown or eaten alive by the herp.
No, indeed I am still alive and just fine.
The story goes a little like this:
I had just completed a 17 page technical paper for my Bus 431 class with my partner. It was 100% complete. Since we were working on two different workstations and compiling it as we went, he sent me the completed file. Because of the virus, we did not send it via our UM-Flint accounts, but rather our personal email addresses.
Here's where it hits the fan. I decided to check it again before I sent it and it was gone. The entire 17 page report had been reduced to nothing, just blank pages. "Don't panic", I told my partner, it's saved locally on your account, the info is all there, something just happened in transit.
It wasn't there. It was way past closing hours for the building, but we had kind of locked ourselves into the lab. My partner knows the ITS people personally, so he pulled a favor and got them in at midnight to try and help us recover our data.
Now, everyone says that Microsoft "autosaves" every once in a while and that there should be some sort of partial file somewhere. Nothing. ITS couldn't do anything, the work was just gone.
"Did you save it?" If I'm anything, I'm paranoid. I save and made sure he was saving religiously. No joke, every 10-15 minutes, Save. I personally hit the save icon on his computer several times myself, just for good measure.
So, if you actually read that, you know my life is hectic right now. AND on top of that, my phone is broke, Kaput, destroyed, ended, beyond repair.
So, I apologize for the rumors, those paparazzi |
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| This is for me. |
[Nov. 6th, 2006|06:47 pm] |
I saw him once more, at home anyway, as per usual, he didn't have a whole lot to say. He asked me about work, about the house, about the norm.
He asked me.
We hung out (well, he probably had different terminology), he was awake, he was asleep. He was there.
He asked me to go up to his room and pick up two books for him. "The Great Coming Battle" and "The Creature from Jekyll Island". I figured, If I was confined to a chair, I'd want to read too. He gave the books to me and asked me to read them. I was ecstatic, elated. I thought, finally, some sort of wisdom, something to be passed down. It turns out, they were Government Conspiracy books and how the Federal Government was giving it's people the shaft.
It lost meaning. That is, until the showing, the funeral, the talks, the bullshit, the fake fucks who show up to get attention. I learned more about him in those two days than I did in 22 years.
It's been hard trying to live a lifetime (at least mine) worth of relationship in a few years (since he'd been sick). I tried. I think we got it.
I learned alot. I learned about how much he not only loved me, but respected me and LIKED me. That was something I wasn't used to.
When he was there, alone, in that room with that guy who coughed and talked about his damn sores, he wanted to hold my hand. I swear, that's never happened before, not as a kid, not as a teen, never as an adult.
It hasn't quite hit me consciously, I haven't been drinking to forget, I've been drinking to remember. To live out some of the glory days I know I should be having, similar to the ones he had. To have stories to tell, lies to live, love.
So, sleep well dear brother, on Primrose lane and in love's good name. |
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| No, you're histrionic, Jim Carey. |
[Sep. 19th, 2006|11:22 am] |
I have a cold or the flu or something like that.
It's totally sweet. People don't want to talk to me or be near me and that works well for me at my place of employment (using the word "work" twice in one sentence, sucks).
But, besides that I feel like crap.
Is it Thanksgiving yet? |
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| Love's alot like a punch in the face |
[Sep. 5th, 2006|12:06 pm] |
For the record: I have an "addictive personality" also read as "I'll do it 'til it kills me".
So, when I can't sleep, I can't sleep, I don't take pills, I can't take pills. If I take pills, I take alot. Why take 1 when you can take 5? Why take 5 when you can take 10. Ah, fuck it, let's take the whole bottle. This is the reason I've never touched drugs. I know my weakness, I'm not going to exploit myself, that's ridiculous.
I couldn't sleep Sunday/Monday. Wide awake. The ceiling was starting to make way too much sense. I tried everything. Grilled cheese. Driving. Wheaties. Video Games. No sleep. 9 rolled around. I had been watching the clock waiting for it for 3 hours already.
I hit the grocery store. I bought Tylenol PM. I exploited myself. I put on The Honorary Title. I proceeded to have dreams about the devil, his gold nose and his matchbook.
I woke up a full day later.
Apparently, I talked to people. I have absolutely no recollection of those conversations and I apologize.
Also for the record: The devil is not as sly and handsome as everyone makes him out to be. He looks like a hobo with syphilis and doesn't speak in intelligent phrases. |
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| Can't catch me riding dirty.... |
[Aug. 30th, 2006|11:54 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  excited | ] |
I've got it almost worked out. Almost.
I've got stuff set-up in my office/rock-room/really shitty recording studio. (The neighbors will hate me, but fuck 'em anyway)
Tonight, I format the "old" laptop.
Tomorrow. It's a recording machine.
We're doing this. As hood as we can, it's gonna be fantastic.
I was toying with it last night and just got all super excited, It felt so good, so natural.
I feel like a morning star..........
.......bitches. |
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| ...and stay the fuck out of my car |
[Aug. 25th, 2006|11:29 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  crazy | ] |
| [ | music |
| | the fan spins and creaks and creaks and spins | ] |
Get out of my dreams, you're killing me.
I need to sleep, for serious. Last night marked about 2 weeks of damn near sleeplessness and it was the worst night.
6 am, still staring at the clock. I tried everything..... Still awake...
Now, everything is a haze, it's like I'm not even here. I'm watching a movie or something unfold around me and I can interact, but I'm making absolutely no sense.
I shit you not, the office girls were all getting cookies someone brought in and suddenly it wasn't office personnel, it was jungle animals around a watering hole.
sigh. |
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| Love shack baby. yes, baby |
[Aug. 23rd, 2006|10:47 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  tired | ] |
| [ | music |
| | Silverstein - Smile in your sleep | ] |
I am tired. I haven't slept more than 3 hours in the past two weeks.
I'm almost to the point of breaking down and taking medication..............
..............almost. |
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| It's flippin' everywhere!!!! |
[Aug. 18th, 2006|03:52 pm] |
| [ | mood |
| |  sarcasm is how I cope | ] |
It was a freak coincidence, a short narrative on a voice mail that left me somewhat taken aback.
Georgia won't be the same without you. Processes and phone calls are going to be even worse. Your counterparts aren't quite as "sunshiny" as you (I wish I had thought of that descriptor myself. I'm not that clever) |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 9th, 2006|05:27 pm] |
They called me conceited. Honestly, If they only knew. I butter myself up, tell them that I think I'm the greatest. If they only knew.
I'm a scared, cynical, obsessive and insecure 22 year old, overcoming his past (and present) deficiencies.
IF I showed even the slightest bit of insecurity, they'd eat me alive.
They're like animals, they smell fear and doubt. I swear you can see the saliva slide down their fangs.
Sigh.
I am pretty amazing, though. |
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| I wish I was an Oscar Meyer Weiner |
[Aug. 6th, 2006|08:43 pm] |
| [ | Current Location |
| | Momma's pad | ] |
| [ | mood |
| |  naughty | ] |
| [ | music |
| | ScarykidsScaringKids | ] |
Girls are stupid.
Apparently, I'm dangerous.
Which was very flattering.
But girls are still stupid. |
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| (no subject) |
[Aug. 5th, 2006|11:44 am] |
| [ | mood |
| |  Mood change/switch/swiftfucker | ] |
| [ | music |
| | emery | ] |
All the wrong girls, for all the right reasons.
Morals are not fun.
:EDIT:
I'm dying my hair again, like the emo fag that I apparently am.
Also, I'm going to blow up my truck. She's had her fun, it's time to die.
"Fallout boy's lyrics are mean as earth" and now we're all hardcore.
Lame. |
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| Mr. Jones and Me |
[Jul. 21st, 2006|09:39 am] |
Bitches, I'm going to the Counting Crows concert tonight! I saw them last year at Meadow Brook, It was cool as hizzie. (I made that up)
And, there's a chance I have an extra ticket to the concert tonight at DTE (or Pine Knob if you're bitter). It's around 20 or 30 dollars (I can't quite remember). So, IF you want to go... Holla back!
I'm excited!!! |
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