sitting home, fighting writer's block, cleaning my desk, debating whether or not I should go get fast-food, looking at a clipping of the NY Times 'payphone article', thinking Mark looks a bit like Trey Anastasio of Phish, wondering what method (if any) is used to read through these random comments, feeling the beginnings of the inspiration to re-vamp my own weak attempt at a website, trying to figure out what to do with my life, feeling down and then up, wondering what YOU'RE doing, wondering if you'd respond via e-mail if I asked, briefly pondering the potential for random encounters built into the Web, growing tired of wasting two people's time at once, and signing off.

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www.erols.com/ianbreen/

Well...ummmm....just getting home......worked till 10 then went out for a while...being reminded that I aint been here in a while I figured no time like the present...kinda missing my life as it used to be....but not really. A friend made contact with the opposition and that was totally not cool...and for that I'm sorry....but not reallly. Not really this and not really that....same shit...different day. But yes, I am indeed alive. So there. Happy now? Good if you are and to damn bad if you aint....dont matter....at all...fuck it...

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Turning the beat around. Love to hear percussion.

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http://www.velvet.net/~starchy

messing with my friend's pixelated face. dammit i like it.

listening to the soundtrack from the movie Gridlock'd - which was filmed in my hometown - and trying to get my shit together for a big day tomorrow.

alotta things are going to be happening in the next 6 weeks. i'm preparing myself for potential meltdown.

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Hoping when I go to the message boards right after typing in this WAYD that I will be able to get in.

*crosses fingers*

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wondering why more Sorabjites don't have Internet connections at work. We could have so much more fun if they would post here all day long from work.

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http://www.skottey.com

working. i'm here at work and i'm working. working working working. well, I WAS working until i started typing this message. now i'm "taking a break".

"sitting here like uninvited company... i share a cigarette with negativity... wallowing in my own obscenities... bathed in perspiration drowned my enemies... use my inspiration for a guillotine... leaning on the pedestal that holds my self-denial... firing the pistol that shoots my holy pride...

sitting here like wet ashes with X's in my eyes and drawing flies."

-chris cornell

9/10/98, 9:43 PM
Jim aka PajamaBoy is:

Pleased as punch I was able to post to the boards today!

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pissed off that Mark never e-mails me. Why not?!?!?!?!?!?

-e9

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http://www.cutaia.com

Menstruating, and listening to some music on CBC Radio Two Live via the Net. I have a Jansport bottle filled with ice cubes and seltzer water, lest I become a runk. The fan feels real nice right now, since it is finally circulating fresh air after a summer of air conditioning.

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another goddammed motherfucking cricket is in my room. since the last cricket episode i have caught at least two others sneaking into my room through one of the windows. this one obviously went undercover. sneaky bastard. why do they do that? don't crickets prefer to be outside?

he's actually in my other dresser this time - the little dresser in my closet where i keep my assorted undergarments.

i took action as soon as the chirping started. when i realized that it was in the dresser somewhere, i began opening and slamming shut all four drawers as hard as i could, over and over again, until i scared myself and stopped.

there's no more chirping.

i just hope the poor thing is meditating in stunned silence and not dead. but i simply do not have the patience for this shit right now. it better remain silent after i turn off all the lights and climb into bed, or i'm going to get cranky.

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Every morning I make coffee in my wonderful, squat, little 4-cup percolator; and every evening I forget to rinse the thing out and wake up and curse myself and the coffee-maker for putting me through the extra effort of rinsing as though it wasn't an occurence as regular as the sunrise.

This morning I pulled off the top of the percolator and peered inside. At the bottom, in the shallow pool of coffee leftover from yesterday, was a dead roach. It must have crawled in through the spigot last night. The cockroaches of my part of the world are a rich chestnut brown, but this little fellow was black as night from its night of pickling in coffee.

I found this a little disgusting at first, but then I found myself saying "bless your heart." Even though I don't believe in a god, I find myself saying this a lot since I passed the 30-year mark. A nod to the vast universe and its aburdity and cruelty, I suppose, and a need for some kind of divine pity.

I dumped the roach and the coffee in my back yard and washed out the coffee-maker.

Listening to music in my strange dorm home. I have a class soon, but I don't want to go. I bit the inside of my lip hard last Friday when I was eating a Snickers for breakfast and walking to my first class. CHOMP! It hurt like hell as is to be expected, and I didn't think much of it as a long-term injury. Now, one week later, the wound has grown and hurts me constantly. I can't even eat. It's not healing and I'm talking funny. I think it's even bleeding a little. I've found myself becoming anti-social and I don't leave my room much. I'm eating Ramen in my room instead of going to the Food Zoo 20 feet from this building. I'm crabby and I have a headache and I'm lonely yet don't want to talk to anyone. All this seems centered around this small raw spot in my mouth. It hurts.

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http://kodiak.billings.k12.mt.us/~tbone

reading the Starr Report...





holy mother of god...

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The Starr Report...

Well, if Clinton doesn't survive it, The U.S. will.

But what do I know.

Only this: He must've written that thing with a pen in one hand and his dick in the other.

hasn't been by in a few days. Work is just so....work-like.

I guess they call it work for a reason, huh?

I come home dead tired and without the energy to even flip the computer on. To check my emails (lots of "I just HAD to give you my picture" come-ons from the porn spammers). To do anything more strenuous than feed the cats, take out my contacts, brush my teeth and fall into bed.

So I'm using the Starr report as my excuse for signing on tonight.

And I'm disgusted by the whole thing. I'm disgusted with Clinton, sure - but I'm more disgusted with Mr. Wanna-be-a Starr. What was the purpose of that investigation? To show that the prez has a sex life and poor judgement?

$40 million will buy an awful lot of shit these days....

Feeling somewhat guilty about sleeping with my boss last night...I always pictured what it would be like, and it was more disappointing that I ever imagined.

Shit, two days til Monday and wondering what the hell is wrong with me and what will Monday hold in store.

Not knowing what it feels like to sleep with my boss and not wanting to know the feeling...yuck..a little drunk as usual but it helps to not think about things...and people...and places...home early from work tonight but I'm very tired and in need of some serious sleep..really liking these cool, beautiful mornings and nights here in Florida...but also looking forward to my visit home to New York...eating some green grapes and orange juice...my bed is calling "Danette, come spend some time with me" so I shall obey like a good girl...oh Mr. Sandman....

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it's 1:35 am and i can't sleep. i haven't slept for days really, but it doesn't matter. every time i lay down in my soft bed, my brain starts talking to me, it writes stories and articles and reviews and essays, it edits them, it revises them, it panicks about the deadlines.

so now what? perhaps a cup of herbal tea and a good book. i gotta get away from the fucking computer.

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Fighting the urge to think of what it would be like to sleep with my boss... the anal-retentive beast. Lay here, no, here, to the right, move your leg, did you get that fax out? you did? ok good, why don't you go ahead and email them the file too, ok, I'm going to cum, did you remember to FedEx them a copy of what we faxed and emailed? Why don't you leave them an urgent voicemail and let them know it's on it's way....great, ok, I'm gonna cum now, really, wait, let me check my voicemail first, ok, here I cum, you DO know I'm the VP of Sales don't you? What you might want to do is go ahead and call them at home and make sure they received the email, and the fax, and leave them another voicemail to call you when they receive the FedEx......wait, are you watching what I'm doing? Uuhhhh, I'm gettig ready to cum, hold on a second, let me check voicemail again in case someone was leaving me a message while I was checking the other messages. Ok, NOW I'm cumming...wait, grab a towel, I don't want you to get my little soldiers all over my tidy desk...and while you're up, there's a paperclip half way out of the dispenser, can you fix that for me? Thanks. You know, I've decided I'm not going to cum, I'm a VP and it's not a priority for me right now. 5 more days of having to be a professional ass-wiper and I sliiiiiiiiiiiide into my new position. Buh-bye Bob.

http://members.tripod.com/~RidinBareBack/index.html

listening to pink floyd through studio headphones and my brand new souped up aiwa stereo.

i feel so good.

it took a long time to get here.

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just popped Jeff Buckley into the cd player, husband went to bed, alternating between working on my webpage and reading this one

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Writing up the six or seventh version of a cover letter. I want this job so bad, but I don't want my resume to blantanly reek of desperation.

I'm also enjoying a big glass of Tang Orange Drink (tm).

Thanking God I've never had a boss that's been remotely "do-able."

Danigril & Ridinbabe... you chicks are WAY too funny!!!

Dani, goin home to NY? Gonna stop in DC and meet your Sorabji DC buds?

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Sobbing uncontrollably...
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Can't post in or read the boards AGAIN!

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Do bears shit in the woods Jimbabe?! I'll have me a layover in DC for sure! I had a nightmare last night of a paperclip that ended up in the wrong place.. thanks Ridin...now I just gotta think of what kinda crazy stunt I'll pull in DC with Jimbabe to leave my mark...Bush Gardens was nothing compared to what I'll come up with for you Jim! A male review with me, you, and Petey keeps coming to mind..lemme go with that for a bit and I'll get back to ya...

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Hmmmm? Takin' Danipoo to a gay bar? That would be ever so interesting.

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grining evilly and making room on our team for new players. Jimbaby, unless you wanna play on OUR team, I think it'd be wise to wear a cup to THAT game.

http://members.tripod.com/~RidinBareBack/index.html

Informing SOME friend of mine that I have been to quite a few gay bars in my years...for some strange reason, lesbians like dig me....anyway, I have a plan already and you will love it...nighty night!!!

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-- tampa, florida

this is the first night i've ever been alone in the house.

this is the house.

9/14/98, 1:54 AM
icedoll is:

hello! I am a drunk.haha.

What are you doing?

zzzzz???

--Holiday, Florida..( 35 minutes from Tampa) .It's beautiful here right now....being alone is a good thing for nights like this.

*wondering* will it work today?

will today be the day that I can get in?

hmmm....let's see. how long has it been? 4 days? 5 maybe? I'll pick 5 days.

and there they are, all layed out like golden pearls of wisdom or golden drops of piss. you never know what you're going to get.

I click on a name. let's see....who do I find interesting enough to want to see what they've written? swine? liam? jim maybe....

I click and






nothing.

I don't have permission.



again....

not that I blame anyone, but damn that's frustrating! like being all dressed up and no place to go. just as well anyway - I've got a dentist appt in 2 days and I've got to clean the apt for my home invasion nurse, er....I mean home infusion nurse.

oh well....better luck next time (hour, day, week, month?)

Cleaning the dust off my stapler.

It's been a slow day.

so excited about maybe meeting Danipoo in a couple weeks!!! YAY!!!!

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back in nyc.

last night is the only night of my life i ever spent alone in the house i grew up in.

you hear all kinds of shit in that house.

but i'm going to think about this and spout off about it later. in the dark hours.

9/15/98, 10:11 AM
starchy is:

Back in Boston from Berkeley.

Wishing I wasn't.

Thinking about moving there. Another, say, year or so...

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http://www.velvet.net/~starchy

Getting in from a morning of electioneering at my local precinct. And it's hotter than a herd full of elks in eat out there!

Since my candidate is running unopposed in her primary, her REAL race begins when the polls close down at 8:00pm tonight!

GO CAROL!

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wondering why Jim is out electioneering when I thought he had a 2 week job lined up in G-town.

Has it been 2 weeks already???

Also wondering why Jim would waste his time working for the only republican candidate for mayor in a town full of democrats....*oops* maybe after Bill and his magic cigar this town will turn republican. Can't imagine that though - hehehe

Enjoying my new DSL line. Get busy child.

Reassuring Peteypoo that I am indeed in the middle of a two week job. A condition of my accepting the job was that I have today off for electioneering purposes. I will simply work an extra day.

And Pete, I know you didn't mean it the way you sounded, but I am not wasting my time. I would not be there say in and day out, spending every waking hour (minus a paying job) there. Carol is what the city needs, and her dedicated league of volunteers are going to work our asses off to see that it happens!

*PJ steps down from soapbox*

:^)

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nursing a sore shoulder.

tonight, i got in a physical altercation. a staged one, but still really fucking fun. last night i spent my usual time at the meridian coffeehouse, a student run hippie hangout. jason was telling me about his sister, who was sent to a reform high school for fighting. on her first day at the reform school, she threw another girl down two flights of stairs, breaking both of her legs. while i found that abhorrant, it stimulated some weird aggression. i started to challenge everyone on the porch to kick my ass. one man accepted. oli jones. fucking awesome hot as hell guy. we agree to rumble tonight, since the clothes we were wearing at the time were too precious. so we kicked each other's asses in the backyard of the coffeehouse, adjacent to campus police. about 40 people circled us, hollering strategies, groaning as punches would sit sensitive spots, etc. the only rules were: no facial piercing pulling, and no crotch shots.

we called a draw in the end. after 15 minutes, we were tired, sore, and clearly evenly matched.

it was a fucking great night. and i have a bruises to give me pride for days.

9/16/98, 1:48 AM
yeldarb is:

about to get off and start recording. you?

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http://www.cadvision.com/khawkins/yaha.html

Realizing that the only time I *really* want someone else around is when I'm panicky and lonely, and that that's really not fair to anyone else. Or even to me.

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waiting for the new idiot boy to respond to the picture I sent him. He claims he responds to all Emails. Why not mine?

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http://www.skottey.com

She put a finger on my lips as if to seal them.

"No questions," she said. "And don't open your eyes. OK?"

My nod was as small as her voice.

She took her finger from my lips and placed it on my wrist.

"I wish I had a scalpel. I'd cut it open and look inside. Not the corpse... the lump of death. I'm sure there must be something like that. Something round and squishy, like
a softball, with a hard little core of dead nerves. I want to take it out of a dead person and cut it open and look inside. I always wonder what it's like. Maybe it's all hard,
like toothpaste dried up inside the tube. That's it, don't you think? No, don't answer. It's squishy on the outside, and the deeper you go inside, the harder it gets. I want to
cut open the skin and take out the squishy stuff, use a scalpel and some kind of spatula to get through it, and the closer you get to the center, the harder the squishy stuff
get, until you reach this tiny little core. It's sooo tiny, like a tiny ball bearin, and really hard. It must be like that, don't you think?"

She cleared her throat a few times.

"That's all I think about these days. Must be because I have so much time to kill every day. When you don't have anything to do, your thoughts get really, really far
out--so far out you can't follow them all the way to the end."

[email protected]
http://www.velvet.net/~starchy

She put a finger on my lips as if to seal them.

"No questions," she said. "And don't open your eyes. OK?"

My nod was as small as her voice.

She took her finger from my lips and placed it on my wrist.

"I wish I had a scalpel. I'd cut it open and look inside. Not the corpse... the lump of death. I'm sure there must be something like that. Something round and squishy, like
a softball, with a hard little core of dead nerves. I want to take it out of a dead person and cut it open and look inside. I always wonder what it's like. Maybe it's all hard,
like toothpaste dried up inside the tube. That's it, don't you think? No, don't answer. It's squishy on the outside, and the deeper you go inside, the harder it gets. I want to
cut open the skin and take out the squishy stuff, use a scalpel and some kind of spatula to get through it, and the closer you get to the center, the harder the squishy stuff
get, until you reach this tiny little core. It's sooo tiny, like a tiny ball bearin, and really hard. It must be like that, don't you think?"

She cleared her throat a few times.

"That's all I think about these days. Must be because I have so much time to kill every day. When you don't have anything to do, your thoughts get really, really far
out--so far out you can't follow them all the way to the end."

[email protected]
http://www.velvet.net/~starchy

waiting for my flatmate to come home with his new futon so we can move his bed into the lounge

work makes me stupid and ugly.

or maybe it just makes me more observant.

i've got two turntables and a headsetphone.

i could kill you over the phonelines right now.

i've a paisly box. yeah d()()d, they're real.

i just need to walk down the street and buy some gas. a little lack of foresight on my part.

i wonder if anyone will notice when i crank up the honda generator in my cubicle?

who to call... who to call?

Oh God Nate, call me! Here's my number: 1-800-419-7883

I am sitting at my computer, glad that it is back in working order. I am currently reading Naked Lunch. I am procrastinating. I am supposed to be doing work. I am preparing for the weekend. I am wearing pants.

feeling like a fool

Wishing I could see and hear Lou Reed at the WhiteHouse Democratic Event tonight.

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Feeling like Amanda.

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certainly NOT liking being called Peteypoo but, eh -- so be it. I'm fighting a losing battle here I fear.

Sorry JIMMYPOOPYKINSakaPAJAMAS?WEDON'TNEEDNOSTINKINGPAJAMAS - I didn't mean to offend with my choice of words (but surely you realize that a republican has about as much chance of being elected mayor in DC as a crack smoking ex-con).

errr, uh....nevermind.