Trying to write now feels always feels like an attempt to recreate.

A sheer lack of similarities between myself and other associates of the human race.  Two white socks: washed, dried, folded, placed in the second dresser drawer down.  Amongst the rest of the second dresser drawer down: belonging.  White mice scratch the inside of the ceiling ( Read more... )

Peter Christopher died this morning.  There is less without him.

I saw Beowulf.  It was not good.  There have been too many epics released which were good.  Beowulf, on the other hand, was only 117 minutes long, reminded me of a perverted Shrek at times, and tried to force a tag-line which did not work.  I cannot understand why they change so much in a story that has survived on its own for this long ( Read more... )

*Beowulf kind of Spoiler Alert*


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She was pregnant, you fucking rat bastard.

Update: Not dead, yet.  Send money.

I am only 23 years old, but I think I'm starting to finally understand what it means to be set in my ways.

This is Microsoft Word 2007:

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Dear God, Buddah, Allah, Jade Emperor, Horus, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Zeus, Hera, Vishnu, Shiva, Brahman, Nanook,
Odin, Thor, Hercules, Janus, Jupiter, Aji-Suki-Taka-Hi-Kone, An, but not Jehovah because you make old fat women come to my house and bother me or Mormon Jesus, because you make teenage hormonally-repressed sweaty teenagers bicycle to my ( Read more... )

 
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