in one hour and 38 minutes it will be christop's birthday. everybody get naked now, in advance.

http://christop.com

hey. psb. i see your boxers.

flying off the stage with eyes closed soul strain mind pain brain strain disposed casual take on dead-end make disclosed rambling fueled by drunken intake enclosed with carnal smile and driven wild imposed by viral death and desperation disclosed by intoxication frustration reload reload reload and fire again.

'it' - yeah... oh baby

fucking with the clucking with some mental decay swaying with the braying with a narcissistic display drilling without milling over a psychotic day and trilling making millions while they enter the fray it's like the blind leading swine while they oink and they pray and the christian quietly wishin dead gods would show them the way...

damn.

i could do this for hours.

do it for flowers or for power but make sure you drop the ducats today for the lost for the dropped for the wasted and strays for the crying who keep prying open doors who want locked while the soul-cold fuckers keep their glocks on cock we try to live try to give but we're all locked down striving to make meaning out of concrete in a dead-end town

you're a clown
who can't frown
and in your smile
you will drown

brown.

whiteblackorangegreen

you still come around...

in the center of the storm there is always a calm despite the murder or injustice or the fright of the bomb somehow you always end up at sorabji dot com...

okay.

that was cheesy.

i'm going to sleep now.

blah blah blah-blah blah blah-blah-blah-blah-blah

blah-blah blah blah blah blah blah blah-blah blah-blah blah-blah-blah

blah blah blah (all this shit will get lost like all the other shit, right?) blah blah-blah blah blah-blah blah blah-blah...

shit.

i'm wasted.

shit.

i can't sleep.

ok...

jack and jill went up the fucking hill to fetch that god-damn pail of water that nasty slave-driving bitch wanted... y'know... i never liked that woman. after that voodoo snuff flick where they offed winnie-the-poo, i just lost all respect for the crack-smoking whore... i mean, it's not like she's such a bad person or anything, but anyone who films big-bird getting a little innocent play on the sesame street casting couch.... i dunno... it just seems wrong... y'know? but who knows. some of you folks might dig that shit... and i'm sure as hell not one to make any judgements or anything... anyway... i hear that bus from montana is chock full o' runaways... time to head to the port authority. catch ya at the YMCA.

don't be late.

Eating tuna late late at night
I've got fate to fight
But try as I might
I can't reach the light.

Cheese in a can, man. That was awful.

I feel like a corn nut now. This is what poetry class does to a guy.

It's too late to be thinking of such things, but I'm getting that nasty gnawing feeling that things are going to go very wrong if they continue on this road. It's unnatural for me to be in a happy relationship and be doing well in school and healthy and happy... The return of my knee injury must be the signalling event... Telling all the variables in my life that it's time to come crashing down... Like the first signal shot of war. I'm afraid to go to the doctor because I know He'll tell me that I should go through some more Physical Therapy or Surgery or SOMETHING that will cause major stress and begin the chain reaction of undone schoolwork and irritibility which will alienate my friends and loved ones, I'll get lonely and depressed and I'll be back where I was before, only this time it's permanent... I'm old enough now to have to live with consequences.

But, like I said... It's too late to be mulling over such things. Nothing is in perspective at 1:40 AM on a Tuesday night with nobody to talk to.

As always, there are things to be done.

[email protected]
http://marvin.smoothness.org

wishing Christop a happy birthday!

Feliz Compliano (sp?)

[email protected]

Happy Birthday, Christop! and many more

warning everone to stay away from the GREEN BEER. It's green because its's full of GREEN ENERGY DEMONS.

Drink Guinness and Bushmill's instead.

May the bad times of your lives be as few and far apart as my uncle's teeth.


Slainte!

mourning the passing of charlie manson's guitar.

why must people be so cruel?

having a Bushmill's

go, Erin's bra.

hoping for a new picture soon. the dog scares me.

swine, what are glocks?

[email protected]

at the day-job.

i've gotta quit moonlighting as a drunken raving lunatic. my head is killing me and my mouth is pasty.

i'm getting too old for this shit.

and sarah, they're semi-automatic pistols.

keep your mental glock on cock.

just try not to misfire.

having a beer at work.

I'm afraid even the alcohol can't make this place interesting.

[email protected]

Really pleased with the impromptu lyric shrapnel which flayed my tired mind.

[email protected]

feeling spunky!

making a jelly sandwich in my mind and patching an ass grabbers broken heart, as I mend the sparrows caw. And it flies into the eternal anus.

trying to make two people find each other, and like each other...


its not going to work.

snorfling

Minnie's shoes! oh god...

I'm 100% off...

"Before you criticize someone, walk a mile in their shoes. Then when you criticize them, you will be a mile away and have their shoes."

-wantzdaddy

http://www.zancro.com

okay, i think i have recovered enough to tell you a bit about my meeting with the swine. please allow me to tell you all about this exciting event in my life: MY FIRST INTERNET BUDDY!

got ready for our meeting with swine. for some reason, i was nervous.

met swine at the noodle ranch in belltown. he was sitting at a table by himself, listening to headphones and puzzling over the menu. he looked perplexed. i introduced myself, dave, and our friend shannon who plays scrabble with swine. he sounded like a dude, like a radio dj or something. it surprised me. swine is a very handsome gentleman, let's just get that part out of the way. okay. moving right along.

we ate some food. swine kept getting the skinny little rice noodles stuck on the corners of his mouth. i thought it would be rude to remove them, but he eventually took care of this problem. he decided pretty much right off that he liked us all, and began to reveal all of the secrets of his life. not really, i just thought that would be a funny thing to say. he decided that i was punk rock.

we left the restaurant and went to the rendezvous, possibly one of the seediest bars on the planet. the waitress neglected us for about fifteen minutes, and then came over when dave and swine went to the bar to order drinks. typical. my bloody mary was rank, and swine complained that his lynchberg lemonade was making his belly ache. dave had beer. shannon had a vodka martini, and i watched her enjoy her olives with jealousy, as i had not been provided with any in my bloody. we eventually got too sketched out by the clientele of the bar, and fled.

next stop was linda's. after having our id's checked and discovering that there was not a single place to sit in the entire bar, we opted to move on. we meandered across the street to the kincorra pub, an irish-esque type bar. there were large samoan men hefting gigantic bundles of brown butcher paper around in the bar. very strange. we settled in, i had some cider and the rest started in on pitcher after pitcher after pitcher of dark beer. they drank beer, i drank cider, a good time was had by all. i went to put some money into the jukebox, and then realized that it was unplugged. i turned around to see a group of high-fiving white guys laughing at me. bastards. several minutes later, a woman that swine thought was a transvestite went over to the machine and began selecting her music, as the jukebox had mysteriously gotten turned on after i put my money in and was laughed at. i told her the story, and she looked at me as though i was insane and said: "well, the machine was turned off, you know." i became freshly embarrassed once again. anyhow, we became quite drunk at this pub. swine went to the bathroom about seventy eight times, and i went a minimum of five times. things were getting hairy. the time was nearing two am, so we departed for the grocery store with our mission: MORE BEER. i got some black licorice at the store, as well. we purchased three sixpacks of beer and two packs of cigarettes, and went to shannon's house. we immediately woke up her husband vaughn. the children were asleep on the floor, and miraculously did not wake up. we tucked them into austin's bizarre plastic car shaped bed. the evening began to get ugly as more beer was consumed. everyone began to overtalk everyone else. it eventually degenerated into all five of us interrupting each other and basically talking to ourselves. shannon's gay hairdresser friend courtney showed up with his dog, stella, changing the already interesting drunken group dynamic even more. stella is one of the cutest fox terriers i have ever seen. shannon and vaughn's fox terrier baxter just got hit by a car and dragged forty feet down the street. he is a little scrapper, still alive, and doing quite well with three legs. i was ruminating on the randomness of shannon and vaughn's pets- a cat with half a tail, a manic depressive turtle that bashes his head on the cage, and now a three legged dog. i began to laugh, and could not stop. i knew it was all over for me for the evening.

some topics we covered, as near as i can recall: three legged dogs, tai bo, sorabji.com, my crazy friends, the way brains function, music, race, gender, politics, new york, seattle, places we have lived, strange hotel stories, having children, yaddah yaddah. suffice it to say, blindswine is an interesting character indeed. he does not just play one on the internet.

time went on. it was nearing four am. i grew weak and foggy brained. i knew it was time for me to go to bed. swine was weakening, growing more and more convoluted with his lines of reasoning. he decided to call a cab and go back to the hotel room. we bid him a fond adieu, and passed out on a half filled air mattress on the floor. dave stole all of the covers, as usual. i woke up at ten am, feeling very bad. i'm really glad i met him, i hope this story was not too anticlimactic for you, and good night.

[email protected]

I'm pissed because Netscape keeps crashing. I'm downloading a new browser and was checking out your site while waiting. I clicked on a payphone and ... nothing. Locked up. I'm trying it all again and I hope this form doesn't screw me again.

[email protected]
http://www.geocities.com/~jayboucher

I'm pissed because Netscape keeps crashing. I'm downloading a new browser and was checking out your site while waiting. I clicked on a payphone and ... nothing. Locked up. I'm trying it all again and I hope this form doesn't screw me again.

[email protected]
http://www.geocities.com/~jayboucher

getting greedy.

i own a domain name that someone wants. bad.

how much money can i extort from them without going to jail? anyone know?

[email protected]

too many pints.

good farrel (fheirel?) bread.


drop dead gorgeaous waitresses.

so how come I really didn't have a good time last night, and felt more like an exercise in futility?

agatha,

i am so jealous.

still awake. don't know how i managed to drag myself into work. was out until very late, at which point several sky high people returned to my apartment and did not vacate till 6:30, at which point it seemed like a bad idea to go to bed.

I just want to curl up on a piece of floor somewhere

suggesting that Sarah ask them to make her an offer. Then drool over it and say, "yes." Or laugh hysterically and say, "no."

[email protected]

just checked out this website which translates the text on any website to a dialect you can set, including redneck, jive, cockney and swedish chef.

great for chuckles.

http://www.rinkworks.com/dialect/

okay, i reckon i haf recovahed inough t'tell yo' a bit about mah meetin' wif th' swine. please aller me t'tell yo' all about this hyar excitin' event in mah life:
MY FIRST INTERNET BUDDY! Fry mah hide! got ready fo' our meetin' wif swine. fo' some reason, i was nervous. met swine at th' noodle ranch in belltown, as
enny fool kin plainly see. he was sittin' at a table by hisse'f, lissenin' t'haidphones an' puzzlin' on over th' menu. he looked perplexed, cuss it all t' tarnation. i
intrydooced mahse'f, dave, an' our friend shannon who plays scrabble wif swine. he soun'ed like a dude, like a radio dj o' sumpin. it surprised me. swine is a mighty
hansum juntleman, less jest git thet part outta th' way. okay. movin' right along, acco'din' t' th' code o' th' heells! we ett some grub. swine kepp gittin' th' hideny li'l rice
noodles stuck on th' co'ners of his mouth. i thunk it 'd be rude t'remove them, but he eventually took care of this hyar problem, dawgone it. he decided purdy much
right off thet he liked us all, an' began t'reveal all of th' secrets of his life. not pow'ful, i jest thunk thet'd be a funny thin' t'say. he decided thet i was punk rock. Shet
mah mouth! we lef' th' restaurant an' went t'th' rendezvous, postibly one of th' seediess bars on th' planet. the waitress neglecked us fo' about fif'een minutes, an' then
came on over when dave an' swine went t'th' bar t'o'der six packs. typical, ah reckon. mah bloody mary was rank, an' swine complained thet his lynchberg a six
pack was makin' his belly ache. dave had beer. shannon had a likker martini, an' i watched her injoy her olives wif jealousy, as i had not been provided wif enny in
mah bloody. we eventually gottao sketched out by th' clientelly of th' bar, an' fled, cuss it all t' tarnation. next stop was linda's. af'er havin' our id's checked an'
discovahin' thet thar was not a sin'le place t'set in the intire bar, we opped t'move on, as enny fool kin plainly see. we mean'ered acrost the street t'th' kinco'ra pub,
an irish-esque type bar. thar were large samoan min hef'in' gigannic bundles of brown butcher paper aroun' in th' bar. mighty peekoolyar. we settled in, i had some
cider an' th' ress started in on pitcher af'er pitcher af'er pitcher of dark beer. they drank beer, i drank cider, a fine time was had by all, ah reckon. i went t'put some
money into th' jukebox, an' then reckanized thet it was unplugged, cuss it all t' tarnation. i turned aroun' t'see a group of high-fivin' white guys laughin' at me. bastards.
sevahal minutes later, a woomin thet swine thunk was a transvestite went on over t'th' machine an' began seleckin' her moosic, as the jukebox had mahsteriously
gotten turned on af'er i put mah money in an' was laughed at. i told her th' sto'y, an' she looked at me as though i was insane an' said: "fine, the machine was turned
off, yo' know." i became freshly embarrassed once agin. ennyhow, we became quite drunk at this hyar pub. Well bust mah britches an' call me streaker. swine went
t'th' bathroom about seventy eight times, an' i went a minimum of five times. thin's were gittin' hairy. th' time was nearin' two is, so we departed fo' th' grocery sto'e
wif our misshun: MORE BEER. i got some black lico'ice at th' sto'e, as fine. we purchased three sixpacks of beer an' two packs of cigarettes, an' went t'shannon's
house. we eemeejutly woke up her husbin vaughn, as enny fool kin plainly see. th' chillun were asleep on th' flore, an' miraculously did not wake up. we tucked them
into aestin's bizarre plastic car shaped bed, cuss it all t' tarnation. th' evenin' began t'git homely as mo'e beer was cornsoomd, cuss it all t' tarnation. ev'ryone began to
on overtalk ev'ryone else. it eventually dejunerated into all five of us interruppin' etch other an' basically talkin' to ourselves. shannon's gay hairdresser friend courtney
showed up wif his houn'dog, stella, changin' th' already interestin' drunken group dynamic even mo'e. stella is one of th' cutess fox terriers i haf evah see. shannon an'
vaughn's fox terrier baxter jest got hit by a car an' dragged fo'ty feet down th' street. he is a li'l scrapper, still alive, an' doin' quite fine wif three legs. i was ruminatin'
on th' ran'omness of shannon an' vaughn's pets- a houn'dog wif ha'f a tail, a manic depressive turtle thet bashes his haid on th' cage, an' now a three legged houn'dog.
i began t'laugh, an' c'd not stop. i knowed it was all on over fo' me fo' th' evenin'. some topics we covahed, as near as i kin recall: three legged houn'dogs, tai bo,
so'abji.com, mah crazy friends, th' way brains funckshun, moosic, race, junder, politics, noo yawk, seattle, places we haf lived, peekoolyar hotel sto'ies, havin'
chillun, yaddah yaddah. suffice it t'say, blindswine is an interestin' chareecker indeed, cuss it all t' tarnation. he does not jest play one on th' internet. time went on, as
enny fool kin plainly see. it was nearin' four is. i grew weak an' foggy brained, cuss it all t' tarnation. i knowed it was time fo' me t'go t'bed, cuss it all t' tarnation.
swine was weakenin', growin' mo'e an' mo'e cornvoluted wif his lines of reasonin'. he decided t'call a cab an' hoof it back to th' hotel room, dawgone it. we bid him a
fond adieu, an' passed out on a ha'f filled air mattress on th' flore. dave stole all of the covahs, as usual, ah reckon. i woke up at ten is, feelin' mighty bad, cuss it all t'
tarnation. i'm pow'ful glad i met him, i hope this hyar sto'y was not too anniclimackic fo' yo', an' fine night.

Agathayay, I'myay osay ealousjay

i just found the email address of my first love. i wrote him. it's wrapped me in nostalgia both good and bad. no, im lying. it's actually *not* wrapped me in anything. i dont really know why i wrote him. he broke my heart and sent me into two years of misery and alcohol abuse.

i dont miss him. but im glad he wrote back. the last time i saw him was at my wedding. we lost contact after that, no fault of his, no fault of mine. i just didnt think it was the greatest idea, calling up my ex boyfriend to chit chat.

when i left ny, i cut my ties to everyone there but my family. i dont think that writing him makes me retied, but i dont know.

i remember one spring night, about three months after we broke up we decided we were going to go see a show at wetlands. we got there and drank for about an hour and a half, smoked a bowl or two, then wound up downstairs, confessing old feelings of love and lonliness and being scared to go on. i remember what i wore, and that i woke up in his apartment (our old apartment), i dont remember the show.

i remember, in 1992, feeling that i would never be happy again.

funny, how things turn out. it seems that im a lot happier than him now.

[email protected]

wishing my mom a Happy Birthday.

Thanking swine fer th' reiteration and sorabji for the ascii babe

[email protected]

Winding down the buzz from the naked woman on the pool table who asked me if she knew who I was.

Thanking Sem for the Dialectizer & Aggie for her wondeful Swine story. (Only at Sorabji.com cd someone find a site that translates posts into Redneck! I'm gonna see if they do Ebonics too.)

Since I didn't win a chance to take him to the Oscars/I'm hoping to have a Close Encounter of The Swine Kind myself when I come to NY for my best friends' wedding Memorial Day weekend. But I doubt that it will involve boating & manic depressive turtles & all the fun stuff Agatha & Dave encountered w/ His Swineness...

Now that I'm thru peeing my pants /here's what I entered & what I got back from The Dialectizer:

Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country.

We hold these truths to be self-evident; that all men are created equal.

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

When your cat has kittens in the oven, you don't call them biscuits.

Get jiggy wid it.

Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse they name! Or if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, & I will no longer be a Capulet.

Sorabji Rocks!

----------------------------------
Translated into Jive (there was no modern Ebonics translator
available):

Ax' not whut yo' country kin do fo' ya', ax' whut ya' kin do fo' yo' country. Slap mah fro!

We hold dese truds t'be self-evident; dat all dudes are created equal.

In de beginnin', God created da damn heavens and da damn eard.

When yo' cat gots kittens in de oven, ya' duzn't call dem biscuits.

Get jiggy wid it. Man!

Romeo, Romeo, wherefo'e art dou Romeo? Deny dy Big Daddy and refuse dey dojigger! Right on! Or if dou wilt not, be but swo'n mah' love, & ah' gots'ta no longa' be some Capulet. Man!

So'abji Rocks! Right on!


(Sem/you are a Prince among Men for finding this site! Let me go e-mail the URL to my friends...)

in the bloomin' interests of representin' the uvver nationalities i fort i'd stick close ter home and prove wot me muvver always suspected - i'm as close
ter bein' a cockney as Dick van Dyke were

You're welcome R.C. Incidently, both the phrases "Fry mah hide" and "Slap my Fro" are new to me. Does anyone know if people actually say these things?


I'm going to try to view Mark's stories in swedish chef.

lmfao!
i found the dialect page about 2 months ago, and it got passed around in my work place..and we actually crashed the server!
he pulled if for weeks and finally got it back up with the limited user block...

hahah

and yes...i say slap mah fro on a daily basis!
solid!

checking out the tickets i just bought for The Roots show next weekend. i'm noticing that i've been slapped with a $4.00 "convenience" charge for each purchase.
sheisty fuckers.
i guess it *is* "convenient" for them to take four bucks out of my pocket every time i buy a ticket... not that i appreciate it or anything...

anyway, i guess if i wanna see my live jams i've gotta deal with takin' it from "The Man."

but at least i get to check out The Roots again.

phat.

fuck you, i won't do what ya tell me.

they found two of the dead bodies, in the trunk of the burned car, in a very special place. the argentine equivalent of the fbi has been in town for amonth. now if they catch the person, the trial will be across the street from where i work. they won't say which two bodies, i don't think they can tell because of the fire. we get all the news because one from our department is in on all the fbi meetings.

the big village is getting all this attention, but it didn't happen there, it's just the only name anyone from anywhere else knows.

the third body/victim is still missing.

the geese are making a special effort for the equinox. the mother of all fuckfests.

receiving emails that make me want to move to texas:

--snip--
oya darlin!! texas is the place for you, and no her juices would not run dry. i can even send her your pic and let her masturbate to that!!
she is very wonderful!! she went on a date with one of my good boy
friends, and she thought he looked like he needed a blowjob so she gave him one!!
haahahahahah
shes cool!! she is very much into the physical act of sex and has
been studying "tantric" sexual sequences. if that doesn't get you i don't know what will!!
hahaahah
--snip--

dejected.


rejected.


i didn't get the job. so much for my agonizing decisions. can you believe that? i got rejected for a crappy little writing job because someone was MORE qualified than me?? it's almost too ridiculous to comprehend. this calls for a Zima.

[email protected]
http://syrup.org/visions

Sarah, NOOOooooo! Put that blasted Zima down! Here -- have a shot of Patron & suck on this lime while I go find Nate to come & minister his bacchanalian rituals
on yr behalf...

shakin' my head in disbelief.

the big guy is creepin' me out.

please make him go away.

if you do i will be very grateful, and if you don't i will be very despondent.

trying hard not to slack off. must..edit..thesis..more

much better.

thank you.

i kind of liked the big guy.

but i've already made sheila despondent once before.

cleo

a big guy.

:-)

[email protected]

NSF approved.

waiting for hotmail to load. waiting, waiting, waiting. it is an injustice what has happened to that company since microsoft took over. it is painfully slow. it would piss me off even more if it weren't free.

[email protected]

happy to see mark's sweet face after so long away.

going to plant things before it rains tonight, snows tomorrow.

candytuft, gypsophila, ornamental kale and carrots. where i lived before, the carrots mated with wild carrots and produced beautiful foliage, with litle tiny roots. the horses loved it, and i saved the seeds. some almost black hollyhocks for the sunny side of the rat barn.

not a bit despondent today, thank you very much.

oh and it wasn't because he's big. he's menacing. big is good. big and frowny is scary.

showing off this page

the son of a preacherman.

back in the 60's, my father was a lutheran minister. he would travel to the several churches on the road from Georgetown to New Amsterdam (Guyana) and conduct religious services. in the late 60's he brought my mother and sister to live in The States and pursued a Ph D in English Literature at Ohio State. being a man of faith, the focus of his doctoral thesis was the bible as a piece of literature. somewhere in the murkiness between religious faith and academic analysis, the contradicitons within the bible made themselves brutally apparent and he experienced some kind of paradigm shift. when dad received his Ph D, he stopped conducting religious services (although he'll still marry you if you ask him nicely.)

i was telling this story to stephanie last saturday night at that cuban nightclub i've been going to lately. i can still hear her singing that song in my ear, still see her dancing the way she does, and still smell her when i lay in my bed... when i woke up on sunday morning, she was gone. but there was a note taped on the television. at the end of the note she wrote, "the only man who could ever reach me was the son of a preacherman."

i think she's a keeper.

A Keeper For sure!

Congrats, man. ('Bout time!) Ah, Spring has sprung! (WHY am I grinning like an idiopt over Swine's new girl? I shd be devastated he's no longer saving himself for moi.)

Stephanie & Swine... has a nice ring to it.

[There's Mark -- Hiya Mark!]

not is not big AND frowny!

*grin*

[email protected]

Swine! You lucky dog!

swine: govern yourself accordingly.

are YOU a keeper?

best wishes.

sheila, you suck.

feeling despondent. I think I'm having problems with flourescent light bulbs again. They're pounding me into my chair, unrelentingly.

I tried Tequiza last week. Scarily, I actually enjoyed it. Perhaps my liver was just looking for a change, but I'm not sure. I think I actually enjoyed the taste. It was, dare I say, refreshing?

The empty apartment situation has been alternatively good and bad. Luckily there was one overnight visitor last week. It was only a couple of days after the ex (still sounds strange) moved out. I think there's always a brief post relationship worry of "will I never have sex again?". You never really believe it but I think until you actually go out and sleep with somebody else, it remains there naggingly. Maybe I'm just really shallow.

Still, I've been having weird dreams about my ex. Things feel empty sometimes. It sort of passes over me in waves, usually when I'm sleepy and incoherent. The rest of the time I'm amazed at how ok I am with things. I guess I let it drag on so long that there really wasn't much question as to whether this was the right thing to do.

I'm still kind of enjoying the single thing. Gone out with a few girls in the last few weeks, but it's already starting to get old and time consuming. Need to play more music. Lock myself at home in the studio. It always seems like I have a choice of either having a girlfriend or being productive. When I meet a girl who I can be with and still get things done, I'm buying a ring.

[email protected]

governing myself accordingly, trying very hard to be a keeper. but it's only been just over a month with the milk drinker, so i have a long way go.

for what it's worth swine, i think you're a keeper. just don't forget to feel.


{Mark, you look handsome.}

[email protected]

swine,

you wish

eyes burning, mind screaming in agonized denial. swine OFF THE MARKET? but sheila is right. i believe one of the quickest ways men can blow it (any men, any relationship, maybe even women too though my sexist mind refuses to believe we have this BLINDNESS) is to think that they have the exclusive power to determine the nature of the situation. swine sounds thoughtful, but definitely a touch arrogant (sorry, swine, i like it but it is a character flaw). yer babe sounds way cool. don't be a guy.

[email protected]

Give the guy some credit, ladies!

His Swineness knows (as all real men know) that the power lies w/HER. How do you think she pulled him in the 1st place?
Remember how long he spent around here as a solo act? Singing that tired "Romance is mush/ I'd rather play w/my high-end audio equipment" tune ad nauseum? Becuz he hadn't a woman w/The Power. (Miss GTCD obviously didn't have her Mojo working. Free meals or not.)

Now that Stephanie has sprinkled a little of her goldust on him/Swine is rediscovering the pleasures of sharing & caring & chillin' out w/someone who is good feminine company. (And you know she's gotta be fine to boot!)

And he's purring like a Cheshire cat & looking forward to gettin' to the next chapter. Without skipping any pages.

Our Swine is DEFINITELY a keeper. So let us assume they are evenly matched/& wait w/baited breath for future updates.

[Jealous or not/I'm rootin' for ya, Bro.]

glad as hell he's happily married.

Romance is mush.

I'd rather play with my high end audio equipment.

[email protected]

STOP THE MADNESS!

i have absolutely no desire to determine the nature of these kind of situations, and i sure as hell have no interest in taking on the fruitless burden of being a control freak. past experience has shown me that such behavior only leads to really, really messy situations.

she's a "keeper" because she is totally independent, has her own life, is highly creative, and has SO much more to do than to worry about what I'M doing. (that's a highly attractive feature in a woman.)

bah. i don't even wanna talk about it.
whatever happens, happens.

and besides, i'll always have my high-end audio equipment.

romance is transitive, but digital gear is forever.

"love may fail, digital gear will prevail?"

[email protected]

it's Dave's birthday.

big deal.

happy birthday you stout-swilling funk-monkey.

happy birthday Dave.

whoever you are.

[email protected]

Wishing Dave a Happy Birthday.

[email protected]

Hoping the birthday boy Dave is Aggie's Dave. And wishing him a Happy.

happy birthday, dave

the woman with whom i share a job is a Stephanie. i am so unworthy to be her worse half. i envy her, as i envy swine's Stephanie, for the obvious reasons.

even the sibilance is soothing.

getting it in under the wire

Happy Birthday Dave

there

If you're Agatha's Dave,

Happy Birthday.

If not,

all Dave's should have a

Happy Birthday,

I think.

I'm wondering how two great friends of mine could Fuck up their lives so much... All over very petty things.
It makes me very sad.

www.terminus13.com/thegarden

tired and emotional.

thinking that the keeping bit sort of happens of its own accord. i wish you all well.

thinking I have a hairball stuck in my bronchial tubes.

dreading the arrival of Dickhead! It's a good thing my friend Will isn't here, 'cuz he'd like to stick that guy 6 ft under.

I better get on the other computer and appear absorbed in my work.

not doing a damn thing and trying desperately to keep it like that.

looks like i spoke too soon.

here comes ratboy to ask the 12,542nd inane question of the day.

anybody got any duct tape?

finishing my new web design...

wanna see?

http://12.7.12.7/kidcrush/

offering the following to Mr. Swine.

[email protected]
http://home.earthlink.net/~rpatty/tape/

landed west coast. the green coast. from my cross country observations, every where else is brown.

my brother's daughter is an angel.

my momma birthed me on the 23rd. just like dave's.

my cd player has only played one album.

the swine has yet to do my wrong.

my mom's name is stephanie.

she was born on the 19th.

i sent flowers.

John Harvards (1299 Pennsylvania) is the place to go for gay black guys.

it's way past my bedtime.

odd.

i want a wife and a baby. i'm tired of this irresponcible, drinkin' and drugs and whores and guns lifestyle.

keep it real in the field, yo.

trembling

like some lunatic
been like this all day and i just watched
in wonder as my hand wavered

was it the headache
the worry
no sleep
and a friend under fire

could be

there's no need to argue any more

days of this magnitude
deserve some respite

in blankets--
in the folds of a heart--
in the warm fleece arms of another

Reminding my dear Natorious that irresponsible drinking & drugs & whores will get him a wife & baby quicker than you can say Dennis Rodman.

(Safe Sex, dude -- esp. when you're drunk & disorderly.)

drooling.

[email protected]

touch this illa5th dynamite.

glad ya finally found it, deto.

i've got a few more recommendations for the shopping cart.

http://www.eXaminer.com/

playing with my new ISP account.

Stuck at work, making myself super anxious over my health problems. Yesterday I split work at noon because I just needed an afternoon off, and the next thing I know I'm barfing and feverish and all the rest of it (word to the wise...do not eat hotpockets on an upset stomach). Went to bed early, with wierd abdominal pain. Woke up with wierder pain in right shoulder. Pop the symptoms into Google search and I'm looking at a ruptured ovarian cyst, gallbladder attack, or appendicitis.

[email protected]

aimlessly pointing and clicking in search of... hell, i don't even know. today has been a good day as far as stress/pressure levels. the bio-pharmaceutical and health insurance sales worlds must be running smoothly because the phones/e-mail around here have been mostly quiet all day. no rogue DHCP servers, no bent TCP/IP configurations, no Lotus Notes fiascos, no proprietary software conniptions, nothing.
i'm pretty much bored shitless, but that's just cuz i haven't put any energy in trying to entertain myself.
things could be worse.
i could be in the mile-high city puking on my shoes with a malignant ovarian cyst preparing to go Johnny AK in my belly...
good thing i'm not packing any ovaries.
i think i'll go to the bathroom and check my prostate gland or something...

[email protected]

looking at Swine.

[email protected]

yo.

don't be eyein' me when i'm touchin' muh prostate.

looks like they just found the third body. nearby. now the road from my village to the village where i work will be closed as a crime scene. this one is a lot closer, so it may be one or more of my "neighbors" who is responsible. didn't i tell you so? i knew they were crazy, i tried to warn you all.

great weekend for me to be alone up here at the end of the trail.

not that any of this is about me. but they are here somewhere, and everyone knows it.

i'm letting loose a few of the hounds just in case.

my condolences of you Sorabjites with sexual malfunctions, or structural failings, or just pains in the ass or nearby regions. i know what you mean.

missing that T1 connection.

wishing Nate a belater happy birfday.

Wondering why Sheila's eXaminer URL won't work. And how her new gig is going.

And telling her fret not -- the ducks will fight to the death to protect her.

preparing for a long and tiring day at work. If you live in D.C. and have cable tv, You can catch a glimpse of me on Channel 13.

So naturally, while getting ready for this monstrosity (sp?) of a day I'm BLASTING Prince's "Sign O' The Times" album and ROYALLY pissing off mother dearest.

FUCK EM!

I'm almost to the point where I like this album better than that whole Purple Rain experience.

[email protected]

trying to diplomatically let ratboy know he's not coming with me to the roots' show, and that if he insists on following me around roseland tonight, i'm gonna knock him the fuck out. i've gotta put up with his shrill, squealing idiocy all day at work... ("hey! i may be pale but i'm hung like a brother!", "hey! i can flow with the best of 'em!", "hey! what does a scandisk do?") no way in hell i'm dealing with that shit on my own time. biggest drawback about this promotion is that i can't really tell him to "just shut the hell up" anymore.
i don't wanna have to work with the guy, much less socialize with him. fucking office politics.
i'm almost tempted to let him hang out, make him match me shot for shot in tequila shooters, then have perez drop him off in the south bronx at 3 in the morning.

i'm sure he'll be a big hit with the uptown brothas.

downloading Shockwave.