The time is right
I'm gonna pack my bags
And take that journey down the road
Cause over the mountain I see the bright sun shining
And I want to live inside the glow
Yeah
I wanna go to a place where I am nothing and everything
That exists between here and nowhere
I wanna go to a place where time has no consequences oh yeah
The sky opens to my prayers
I wanna go to beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
I wanna go to beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
I wanna go to beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
I wanna go to beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
Please understand
That its not that I don't care
But right now these walls are closing in on me
I love you more than I love life itself
But I need to find a place were I can breathe
I can breathe
I wanna go to a place where I can hold the intangible
And let go of the pain with all my might
I wanna go to a place where I'm suspended on ecstasy
Somewhere between dark and light
Where wrong becomes right
I wanna go to beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
I wanna go to beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
I wanna go to beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,
I wanna go to beautiful, beautiful, beautiful
-J
Wednesday, March 19, 2008
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Today is the Greatest....
The kind of night vision video I like...Heavy eyeliner, moving bodies and the glow of a green light...
So a while ago Akshay and I were discussion food. It all started with him stating that he likes crunchy french fries and I like soft french fries. He said he liked a hard crunchy on the outside quesadilla and I prefer my quesadilla's softer. He enjoys a nice hard cock, and I enjoy...well, a soft, supple....well, you know. We came to the conclusion that your dietary habits speak loudly about your sexual preference. Lesbians like softer foods while gay men enjoy hard stiff foods. So I'm curious to see how many lesbians prefer softer foods to harder foods. It's a stretch, but it was one of many, ridiculous, fantastic conversations. We enjoyed our stoner clarity.
Then to make sure that everything is accurate, I'll need you to prove to me you're gay. And no I don't mean watch Margartet Cho with me, or tell me an Ellen Degeneres joke. I mean like,hard soft eveidence. Like making out with a hot girl. And let me watch. Yeah, that'll do donkey, that'll do.
And if some of you noticed I have not been posting much its because I've been busy! Life's got me by the chi chi's, and as much as I enjoy that sort of thing, it kind of sucks because I don't get as much time to write.
It's back to the daily grind. I wish i were talking about a different kind of grinding...*ahem* like the "naked grinding lesbians" [NOT WORK SAFE] vid.
Lord.
Happy hump day, ya'll. Remember, on hump day, we all have to hump. MMkay pumpkin?
Write that down.
-J
So a while ago Akshay and I were discussion food. It all started with him stating that he likes crunchy french fries and I like soft french fries. He said he liked a hard crunchy on the outside quesadilla and I prefer my quesadilla's softer. He enjoys a nice hard cock, and I enjoy...well, a soft, supple....well, you know. We came to the conclusion that your dietary habits speak loudly about your sexual preference. Lesbians like softer foods while gay men enjoy hard stiff foods. So I'm curious to see how many lesbians prefer softer foods to harder foods. It's a stretch, but it was one of many, ridiculous, fantastic conversations. We enjoyed our stoner clarity.
Then to make sure that everything is accurate, I'll need you to prove to me you're gay. And no I don't mean watch Margartet Cho with me, or tell me an Ellen Degeneres joke. I mean like,
And if some of you noticed I have not been posting much its because I've been busy! Life's got me by the chi chi's, and as much as I enjoy that sort of thing, it kind of sucks because I don't get as much time to write.
It's back to the daily grind. I wish i were talking about a different kind of grinding...*ahem* like the "naked grinding lesbians" [NOT WORK SAFE] vid.
Lord.
Happy hump day, ya'll. Remember, on hump day, we all have to hump. MMkay pumpkin?
Write that down.
-J
Thursday, March 6, 2008
I'm Eating Japanese Beef Jerky
Okay so truth be told, I wrote a whole freaking post, then hated it and deleted it. Wasteful life. But to be honest, I think I needed to wrap my head [legs] around it, type it out, read it and then be done with it. It kind of felt nice to highlight it and delete it when I was done.
So instead I am posting lyrics. I know, boring life, but hey it’s my own blog. So I can do whatever [whomever] I want. And feel free to read [watch] if you want. Readers [voyeurs] are always welcome.
Run to your dreaming
When you're alone
Unplug the TV, turn off your phone
Get heavy on with digging your ditch
Cause I'm digging a ditch where madness gives a bit
Digging a ditch where silence lives
Digging a ditch for when I'm old
Digging this ditch my story's told
Where all these troubles
That weigh down on me will rise
Run to your dreaming
When you're alone
Where all these questions
Spinnin' around my head
Will die, will die, will die...
Cause I'm digging a ditch where madness gives a bit
Digging a ditch where silence lives
Digging a ditch when I am through
Digging this ditch I'll dig in for you
Where all these worries
Weigh it down on me will rise
Where all these habits that
Pull heavy at my heart
will die
Run to your dreaming
When you're alone
Not what you should be or what you've become
Just get heavy on with digging your ditch
Cause I'm digging a ditch where madness gives a bit
Digging a ditch where silence lives
Where all these dissapointments, grow angry out of me
Will rise...
Will die...
Run to your dreaming
When you're alone
Unplug the TV
And turn off your phone
Get heavy on with digging your ditch
-J
So instead I am posting lyrics. I know, boring life, but hey it’s my own blog. So I can do whatever [whomever] I want. And feel free to read [watch] if you want. Readers [voyeurs] are always welcome.
Run to your dreaming
When you're alone
Unplug the TV, turn off your phone
Get heavy on with digging your ditch
Cause I'm digging a ditch where madness gives a bit
Digging a ditch where silence lives
Digging a ditch for when I'm old
Digging this ditch my story's told
Where all these troubles
That weigh down on me will rise
Run to your dreaming
When you're alone
Where all these questions
Spinnin' around my head
Will die, will die, will die...
Cause I'm digging a ditch where madness gives a bit
Digging a ditch where silence lives
Digging a ditch when I am through
Digging this ditch I'll dig in for you
Where all these worries
Weigh it down on me will rise
Where all these habits that
Pull heavy at my heart
will die
Run to your dreaming
When you're alone
Not what you should be or what you've become
Just get heavy on with digging your ditch
Cause I'm digging a ditch where madness gives a bit
Digging a ditch where silence lives
Where all these dissapointments, grow angry out of me
Will rise...
Will die...
Run to your dreaming
When you're alone
Unplug the TV
And turn off your phone
Get heavy on with digging your ditch
-J
Thursday, February 21, 2008
My Lesbian Agenda
First off, my own personal gay agenda is far from what the republican, homophobic [expletive] *coughasshole’scough* believe the gay agenda is. My *points at self with both hands* own personal gay agenda is all in the name of science. A few weeks ago I saw an article on AOL saying that two female rats made sweet, tender and rough when they needed to be love with each other. The result. A beautiful baby girl. That’s right, two scientists made two girl rats have sex and make a baby without the help of any males or sperm. I’m totally going to ignore the fact that most likely, some douchebage scientist was like “Hey, let’s make two girl rats do it. It’ll be hott.” Whatever. But now, I’ve taken it into my own hands. Without anybody even needing to ask, I have stepped up and made it my personal goal, to have as much sex with a woman as possible to get her pregnant. The results have been astounding. Let me tell you that much. I’m all about making the world a better place, you know? I just want to do my part.
But really, it’s absurd to say that the “gay agenda” is to turn young adults and children into “being gay” as if it were a choice. It’s just as absurd as saying that I’m going to eat your baby, screw a goat, or watch El Cantante with J Lo and Marc Anthony. Fuck off with that. I will absolutely NOT watch El Cantante with J Lo and Marc Anthony. In fact, I am taking PRO ACTIVE steps to make sure that they never ever share the big screen again. If they wanna make movies, let’s keep it with a camcorder, in the bedroom, on a sex swing, bound and gagged like the rest of America. I mean, really.
If educating people about the homosexual lifestyle is really a means to turn someone gay, then I argue that teaching drug prevention promotes doing drugs, or educating people about alcohol abuse promotes alcoholism. What is sad is that the very same country that claims to send the message that we are all free to be ourselves, to learn, live and love equally shoulder to shoulder with everyone, is completely shifting focus off the real point. I’m not saying I’m surprised. I mean our government, in this country, lying to us?! NO way! Our government? The same government that screws us three ways from Sunday and isn’t even kind enough to give us a reach around?! Fuckin’ say it ain’t so.
What the real goal is to teach awareness. To teach diversity and tolerance. America is one huge melting pot orgy. We have to learn how to live with each other, tolerate each other, and respect the fact that we share different thoughts, morals, and most importantly, lifestyles. Just like, say, you might want to watch El Cantante. I mean, I can piss and moan, and explain to you that the movie will be so bad it will hurt you and make you cry, but at the end of the day it’s your choice. Depends on if you want to be a rebel that day or not. I have to respect that. I mean, me being gay I am just asking that people treat me no differently than your average Marc Anthony, respect my lifestyle and respect who I am and understand it is not something I stumbled upon. And by no means is it “an easy way out”. In fact I must be pretty strong in my convictions to deal with the harsh reality of what it entails to be gay.
Because really, who would “choose” this life? With this “decision” comes knowing that you will not be as welcomed anymore, the possibility that loved ones in your life will no longer accept you, the chance that a complete stranger will choose to harass you or harm you based solely on who you are holding hands with, the ridiculous notion that you’ll be attracted and oogle over ANYONE of your same sex. Pfft. Yeah, right, some people can be so self righteous. Just because I make out with women, does NOT mean just because you are not a man, I want you. This is not true. I’m just as picky and bitchy as I was before when I was dating men thank you oh so very much. I look at it this way, me asking for your acceptance is not me asking YOU (meaning straight people) to get at a chick. I’m not forcing you to take on a stone butch…although you might want to think about it, they’ll tear your shit up. True story.
So on that note I say, love who you will, move ahead, take care of yourself, family and loved ones, and remember, that fate is a bitch. The more you hate in this life, the more you’ll be hated in the next. And lets hope to god Elton John isn’t ruling the place, or you’ll probably find a nice hard cock up your bum for eternity.
Tough life.
As for me, I love life. Life is being good to me. I’m grateful.
So grateful, Im thinking of renting El Cantante.
Bahaha. What a joke. I will not.
-J
But really, it’s absurd to say that the “gay agenda” is to turn young adults and children into “being gay” as if it were a choice. It’s just as absurd as saying that I’m going to eat your baby, screw a goat, or watch El Cantante with J Lo and Marc Anthony. Fuck off with that. I will absolutely NOT watch El Cantante with J Lo and Marc Anthony. In fact, I am taking PRO ACTIVE steps to make sure that they never ever share the big screen again. If they wanna make movies, let’s keep it with a camcorder, in the bedroom, on a sex swing, bound and gagged like the rest of America. I mean, really.
If educating people about the homosexual lifestyle is really a means to turn someone gay, then I argue that teaching drug prevention promotes doing drugs, or educating people about alcohol abuse promotes alcoholism. What is sad is that the very same country that claims to send the message that we are all free to be ourselves, to learn, live and love equally shoulder to shoulder with everyone, is completely shifting focus off the real point. I’m not saying I’m surprised. I mean our government, in this country, lying to us?! NO way! Our government? The same government that screws us three ways from Sunday and isn’t even kind enough to give us a reach around?! Fuckin’ say it ain’t so.
What the real goal is to teach awareness. To teach diversity and tolerance. America is one huge melting pot orgy. We have to learn how to live with each other, tolerate each other, and respect the fact that we share different thoughts, morals, and most importantly, lifestyles. Just like, say, you might want to watch El Cantante. I mean, I can piss and moan, and explain to you that the movie will be so bad it will hurt you and make you cry, but at the end of the day it’s your choice. Depends on if you want to be a rebel that day or not. I have to respect that. I mean, me being gay I am just asking that people treat me no differently than your average Marc Anthony, respect my lifestyle and respect who I am and understand it is not something I stumbled upon. And by no means is it “an easy way out”. In fact I must be pretty strong in my convictions to deal with the harsh reality of what it entails to be gay.
Because really, who would “choose” this life? With this “decision” comes knowing that you will not be as welcomed anymore, the possibility that loved ones in your life will no longer accept you, the chance that a complete stranger will choose to harass you or harm you based solely on who you are holding hands with, the ridiculous notion that you’ll be attracted and oogle over ANYONE of your same sex. Pfft. Yeah, right, some people can be so self righteous. Just because I make out with women, does NOT mean just because you are not a man, I want you. This is not true. I’m just as picky and bitchy as I was before when I was dating men thank you oh so very much. I look at it this way, me asking for your acceptance is not me asking YOU (meaning straight people) to get at a chick. I’m not forcing you to take on a stone butch…although you might want to think about it, they’ll tear your shit up. True story.
So on that note I say, love who you will, move ahead, take care of yourself, family and loved ones, and remember, that fate is a bitch. The more you hate in this life, the more you’ll be hated in the next. And lets hope to god Elton John isn’t ruling the place, or you’ll probably find a nice hard cock up your bum for eternity.
Tough life.
As for me, I love life. Life is being good to me. I’m grateful.
So grateful, Im thinking of renting El Cantante.
Bahaha. What a joke. I will not.
-J
Friday, February 1, 2008
Not Sad Life, Akshay Trim Your Fucking Tree, What the Fuck Daisy
January 31, 2008 @ 12:44 pm
Akshay via email:
“Senator, you're no Jack Kennedy. We have to over-use this phrase today I effin love it”
Same day @ 1:06pm
Akshay via text:
“I feel like playing a sport”
Same day @ 1:42pm
Akshay via text:
“may your undies molest u today (but only in a good way…)”
Same day @ 8:00pm
Akshay via text:
“Keys in mail box. Shoes on nightstand. Francisco at home. Call you at 10.”
February 1, 2008 @ 10:11am
Me to Akshay via email:
***note: 41 post street is a dive bar called Macs.
“omg...i dropped down to 17 dollars in my account. hahaha. hilarious. my statement is like 41 post st, 41 post st, cheesecake factory, 41 post st, chevron, rock bottom, 41 post st, shell, 41 post st, 41 post st, overdraft charge...
omg, love life.”
Akshay back:
“LOL! We should get miles for 41 Post Street. Let's save up three thousand dollars and move to a 3rd world country. 1000 to get there, 1000 to live our entire life there and 1000 to come back when we get sick of it. We'll live the idyllic life. I'm thinking Guyana, they speak English and it's the Caribbean. So we get the beach and don't have to deal with all the ethnic BS”
Me back:
“hahah i love how you are planning out our lives and im loving it. can i post this on my blog?”
Akshay back:
“Absolutely, my pearls of wisdom are in the public domain, so publish away... just take off my phone number and address one stalker is all I need ;) lol I really should think about what it is to be modest.”
Keeping it random. Even with friends in real life. He's a keeper.
Love life, right now.
Akshay via email:
“Senator, you're no Jack Kennedy. We have to over-use this phrase today I effin love it”
Same day @ 1:06pm
Akshay via text:
“I feel like playing a sport”
Same day @ 1:42pm
Akshay via text:
“may your undies molest u today (but only in a good way…)”
Same day @ 8:00pm
Akshay via text:
“Keys in mail box. Shoes on nightstand. Francisco at home. Call you at 10.”
February 1, 2008 @ 10:11am
Me to Akshay via email:
***note: 41 post street is a dive bar called Macs.
“omg...i dropped down to 17 dollars in my account. hahaha. hilarious. my statement is like 41 post st, 41 post st, cheesecake factory, 41 post st, chevron, rock bottom, 41 post st, shell, 41 post st, 41 post st, overdraft charge...
omg, love life.”
Akshay back:
“LOL! We should get miles for 41 Post Street. Let's save up three thousand dollars and move to a 3rd world country. 1000 to get there, 1000 to live our entire life there and 1000 to come back when we get sick of it. We'll live the idyllic life. I'm thinking Guyana, they speak English and it's the Caribbean. So we get the beach and don't have to deal with all the ethnic BS”
Me back:
“hahah i love how you are planning out our lives and im loving it. can i post this on my blog?”
Akshay back:
“Absolutely, my pearls of wisdom are in the public domain, so publish away... just take off my phone number and address one stalker is all I need ;) lol I really should think about what it is to be modest.”
Keeping it random. Even with friends in real life. He's a keeper.
Love life, right now.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Peanut Butter Jelly Time
1.Your ex is on the side of the road, on fire. What do you do?
Call AAA. Let em roast for a little bit.
2.Your best friend tells you she is pregnant. What is your reaction?
You know, you could’ve just blown the guy.
3.When is the last time you wanted to punch someone in their face?
Haha, you said “face”. I think the better question is, when do I not want to punch someone on their face. There are a lot of assholes out there. The last time was today. I was at a deli getting lunches for a meeting. At this deli there are numbers for you to pull to wait in line. This douche bag traipses in like he’s some fuckin’ Casanova ready to swoon the store clerk who is reorganizing all the tasty treats. Never mind that the store clerk was a guy. Whatever. He walks right up to the front of the counter and pretends that no one else exists. And totally ignores the fact that people are holding little blue tickets and numbers are being called. I wanted to scuff his ridiculously white Nike’s and then write him a rude letter where at some point, I call him a douche bag and his mom a whore. I don’t know…something to make him cry and rethink those white Nikes.
4.Congratulations! You just had a son. What's his name?
”Amillionbucks”. Cuz somehow a woman got me pregnant.
5.Congratulations! You just had a daughter. What's her name?
”holyshitim’awhore”
6.What are you craving right now?
Jimboy’s Mexican food. Cuz it’s the shit. And it has a drive through.
7.What was the last thing you cried about?
8.When you buy something and your change is a penny. Do you keep it?
I HATE CHANGE. I gave away 95 cents the other day. To me it is not worth how heavy it is…how you have to fumble through it…how it just like drops and rolls away. And ugh…no.
9.What color is your tissue box?
click it betch
10.Do you have a ceiling fan in your room, and if so, is there dust on that fan?
Are you asking me to take my top off?
11.What is the last voicemail you received about?
Blockbuster kindly [rudely] reminding me to return their damn movies. You know I have a real bone to pick with them. They offer this “no late fee” policy. But they don’t tell you that some angry divorced middle aged women that secretly resents her kids because she has to go to PTA night every Monday, when she would really like to go to lesbian karaoke night with “janet”, is going to call every other day and yell at you to return their movies. You know what, it’s not even worth it. I’ll return the damn movies on time.
12.Scariest thing you've experienced in the last year?
lesbians.
13.what do you order when you go to Taco Bell?
Fuck yes. this is the best question ever. ½ lb cheesy bean and rice burrito with NO SAUCE OR ONIONS, a chicken soft taco SUPREME, and a regular taco. Write that down.
14.Have you ever had a garage sale?
Oh please I’ve got so much junk in my trunk.
15.Has anyone ever spat in your drink and you drank it unknowingly?
I’m not answering this question because you said “spat”. That’s lame.
16.Are you happy right now?
Absolutely. I’m in mint condition.
17.Who came over last?
Ah-Kah-Shay and potato salad.
18.What is your reaction when you find out you just got pranked?
I go “Oh my god….ASHTON….you soooo got me. You jerk. I’m calling Demi…..you ass….oh my god… you got me.”
19.Have your brothers or sisters ever told you that you were adopted?
All the time. I’m an only child, by the way. Maybe if you cared to ask you’d know that.
20.Dark or light jeans?
Like on my floor? Any jean on my floor is good. It just means that whoever is over, is wearing no pants. And we all know what that means…….leg shaving party! Woooo.
21.What was the last movie you watched at home?
The Hills Have Eyes 2 Unrated = stupid.
22.What is in your pocket?
My lip ring. I have to take it out for work.
23.Who hooked you up with your girlfriend/ boyfriend?
I don’t have one. Thanks for reminding me you jack ass.
24.Where do you hurt?
My heart! After question 23, I’m really fuckin sad.
25.What is your favorite aisle at Wal-Mart?
Whatever aisle I can find “cuntchips”. They’re like sunchips, but better.
26.When is your birthday?
November 18th. But feel free to send birthday gifts all year long. Don’t worry if I don’t like them, I’ll sell them on ebay. Along with your card.
27.What are you going to do after this?
Track down some cheese for my face.
28. Who was the last person you went shopping with?
AKSHAY! He’s so fantastic. Why have gay boys if you don’t shop with them?!
29.What about your favorite dessert?
What about it?! Cheesecake. MMM….give me some strawberries
30.Do you have the same name as one of your relatives?
No but can I say for the record, that’s a kind of stupid question, and I expected more. Seriously…
32.Do you like pickles?
I think pickles are the devil’s small bastard children.
33.Is someone in love with you?
I’m not self righteous. I have plenty of that in my life already.
34.What color is your couch?
A deep forest green by day, and hot pink leather by night. *cracks whips and stands with one heel on the couch* Problem?
35.Has anyone ever mistaken you for a family member?
No. But everyone thinks I am Angelina Jolie’s sister. I am like, “Ugh, no I am not, but I will sleep with you. Don’t swing that way? Aw, really. Don’t worry, you will. Let’s go. Shhhhh…just get into this panel van”.
36.Does someone like you right now?
*blush*
37.Do you know anyone in jail / prison?
Again, are you asking me to take my top off? ALRIGHT!
38.Do you like the color green?
Only on your ass *over exaggerated wink* Yes. Yes I do.
39.How many hours did you sleep for last night?
I actually slept A LOT yesterday evening. I was in bed from like 6 on…I just kept chillin in bed watching TV. Harassed some people via text. Called some people…talked on the phone for two hours which was the highlight of my night…Yeah…life’s good.
40.Do you swear at your parents?
What the fuck do you think? No I don’t.
41.Do you think someone is thinking about you right now?
I have an inkling….the lady at taco bell. Cuz I didn’t pay at the drive through. Just kidding…no but really, yeah, I think they are.
Call AAA. Let em roast for a little bit.
2.Your best friend tells you she is pregnant. What is your reaction?
You know, you could’ve just blown the guy.
3.When is the last time you wanted to punch someone in their face?
Haha, you said “face”. I think the better question is, when do I not want to punch someone on their face. There are a lot of assholes out there. The last time was today. I was at a deli getting lunches for a meeting. At this deli there are numbers for you to pull to wait in line. This douche bag traipses in like he’s some fuckin’ Casanova ready to swoon the store clerk who is reorganizing all the tasty treats. Never mind that the store clerk was a guy. Whatever. He walks right up to the front of the counter and pretends that no one else exists. And totally ignores the fact that people are holding little blue tickets and numbers are being called. I wanted to scuff his ridiculously white Nike’s and then write him a rude letter where at some point, I call him a douche bag and his mom a whore. I don’t know…something to make him cry and rethink those white Nikes.
4.Congratulations! You just had a son. What's his name?
”Amillionbucks”. Cuz somehow a woman got me pregnant.
5.Congratulations! You just had a daughter. What's her name?
”holyshitim’awhore”
6.What are you craving right now?
Jimboy’s Mexican food. Cuz it’s the shit. And it has a drive through.
7.What was the last thing you cried about?
8.When you buy something and your change is a penny. Do you keep it?
I HATE CHANGE. I gave away 95 cents the other day. To me it is not worth how heavy it is…how you have to fumble through it…how it just like drops and rolls away. And ugh…no.
9.What color is your tissue box?
click it betch
10.Do you have a ceiling fan in your room, and if so, is there dust on that fan?
Are you asking me to take my top off?
11.What is the last voicemail you received about?
Blockbuster kindly [rudely] reminding me to return their damn movies. You know I have a real bone to pick with them. They offer this “no late fee” policy. But they don’t tell you that some angry divorced middle aged women that secretly resents her kids because she has to go to PTA night every Monday, when she would really like to go to lesbian karaoke night with “janet”, is going to call every other day and yell at you to return their movies. You know what, it’s not even worth it. I’ll return the damn movies on time.
12.Scariest thing you've experienced in the last year?
lesbians.
13.what do you order when you go to Taco Bell?
Fuck yes. this is the best question ever. ½ lb cheesy bean and rice burrito with NO SAUCE OR ONIONS, a chicken soft taco SUPREME, and a regular taco. Write that down.
14.Have you ever had a garage sale?
Oh please I’ve got so much junk in my trunk.
15.Has anyone ever spat in your drink and you drank it unknowingly?
I’m not answering this question because you said “spat”. That’s lame.
16.Are you happy right now?
Absolutely. I’m in mint condition.
17.Who came over last?
Ah-Kah-Shay and potato salad.
18.What is your reaction when you find out you just got pranked?
I go “Oh my god….ASHTON….you soooo got me. You jerk. I’m calling Demi…..you ass….oh my god… you got me.”
19.Have your brothers or sisters ever told you that you were adopted?
All the time. I’m an only child, by the way. Maybe if you cared to ask you’d know that.
20.Dark or light jeans?
Like on my floor? Any jean on my floor is good. It just means that whoever is over, is wearing no pants. And we all know what that means…….leg shaving party! Woooo.
21.What was the last movie you watched at home?
The Hills Have Eyes 2 Unrated = stupid.
22.What is in your pocket?
My lip ring. I have to take it out for work.
23.Who hooked you up with your girlfriend/ boyfriend?
I don’t have one. Thanks for reminding me you jack ass.
24.Where do you hurt?
My heart! After question 23, I’m really fuckin sad.
25.What is your favorite aisle at Wal-Mart?
Whatever aisle I can find “cuntchips”. They’re like sunchips, but better.
26.When is your birthday?
November 18th. But feel free to send birthday gifts all year long. Don’t worry if I don’t like them, I’ll sell them on ebay. Along with your card.
27.What are you going to do after this?
Track down some cheese for my face.
28. Who was the last person you went shopping with?
AKSHAY! He’s so fantastic. Why have gay boys if you don’t shop with them?!
29.What about your favorite dessert?
What about it?! Cheesecake. MMM….give me some strawberries
30.Do you have the same name as one of your relatives?
No but can I say for the record, that’s a kind of stupid question, and I expected more. Seriously…
32.Do you like pickles?
I think pickles are the devil’s small bastard children.
33.Is someone in love with you?
I’m not self righteous. I have plenty of that in my life already.
34.What color is your couch?
A deep forest green by day, and hot pink leather by night. *cracks whips and stands with one heel on the couch* Problem?
35.Has anyone ever mistaken you for a family member?
No. But everyone thinks I am Angelina Jolie’s sister. I am like, “Ugh, no I am not, but I will sleep with you. Don’t swing that way? Aw, really. Don’t worry, you will. Let’s go. Shhhhh…just get into this panel van”.
36.Does someone like you right now?
*blush*
37.Do you know anyone in jail / prison?
Again, are you asking me to take my top off? ALRIGHT!
38.Do you like the color green?
Only on your ass *over exaggerated wink* Yes. Yes I do.
39.How many hours did you sleep for last night?
I actually slept A LOT yesterday evening. I was in bed from like 6 on…I just kept chillin in bed watching TV. Harassed some people via text. Called some people…talked on the phone for two hours which was the highlight of my night…Yeah…life’s good.
40.Do you swear at your parents?
What the fuck do you think? No I don’t.
41.Do you think someone is thinking about you right now?
I have an inkling….the lady at taco bell. Cuz I didn’t pay at the drive through. Just kidding…no but really, yeah, I think they are.
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Kashi GO Feck Yourself
I’m kind of on a health kick. Startiiiiiiing...........
.
.
.
.
.
Now.
Well technically, I was on this “health kick” yesterday during the day, buuuuut then Jess went out and had some drinks. I ended my night with water though! Who the hell am I kidding, that doesn’t mean a damn thing. But it is a start.
So I’m on this health kick right? I had a slim fast and this special k, frosted flake, no corn starch, fatty acid, low carb, one-bag-only-contains-5-pieces fantastical snack for breakfast. THEN, cruised over and got some water. Being sure to pass by all the cookies and frosted snack cakes lying around work. And at lunch I had a Cajun chicken tostada salad thing. And now I am chomping on some fruit. That’s good right? I know the day is young, but my goal is to have soup for dinner and be totally full. Doubt it’ll happen. You’ll probably find me at La Vic’s tonight knee deep in cheese quesadilla’s with melted cheese stuck to my cheek.
They say one way to help lose weight and tone up is to keep a diary or a journal of all the things you eat. So I got this little 2008 planner and I have been writing down everything that passes my lips. Well not everything that passes my lips. *stares off while imagination runs wild* Nevermind. But the problem with this journal thing is I’m logging all the awesome food I’m eating and then reading about it later. And I find myself going “Damn, those cheese enchiladas were hella good…..ohhhh then I had a cookie. That’s nice. And it was chocolate chip too. What else did I have….hmm…….oh shit, I did have those three babybel cheeses. Fuck, now I’m hungry”. Not. A. Good. Idea. Unless you eat nothing but tofu and onion rings. Then in that case, log away my friend because who the hell wants to go back and read about that?!
Update:
It is true. Ms. Dewey is Papi from L word. I invite you all to just sit around and watch that damn search engine. She’s hella hot. Lord, oh lord.
I’ve got crap to do, including logging all my wonderful food today. Then I am going to In The Company of Dogs to spoil the hell outta Chloe. So I am going to head out but I leave you with this:
You’re Awesome. *high fives you*
Magical. I know, I felt it too.
-J
.
.
.
.
.
Now.
Well technically, I was on this “health kick” yesterday during the day, buuuuut then Jess went out and had some drinks. I ended my night with water though! Who the hell am I kidding, that doesn’t mean a damn thing. But it is a start.
So I’m on this health kick right? I had a slim fast and this special k, frosted flake, no corn starch, fatty acid, low carb, one-bag-only-contains-5-pieces fantastical snack for breakfast. THEN, cruised over and got some water. Being sure to pass by all the cookies and frosted snack cakes lying around work. And at lunch I had a Cajun chicken tostada salad thing. And now I am chomping on some fruit. That’s good right? I know the day is young, but my goal is to have soup for dinner and be totally full. Doubt it’ll happen. You’ll probably find me at La Vic’s tonight knee deep in cheese quesadilla’s with melted cheese stuck to my cheek.
They say one way to help lose weight and tone up is to keep a diary or a journal of all the things you eat. So I got this little 2008 planner and I have been writing down everything that passes my lips. Well not everything that passes my lips. *stares off while imagination runs wild* Nevermind. But the problem with this journal thing is I’m logging all the awesome food I’m eating and then reading about it later. And I find myself going “Damn, those cheese enchiladas were hella good…..ohhhh then I had a cookie. That’s nice. And it was chocolate chip too. What else did I have….hmm…….oh shit, I did have those three babybel cheeses. Fuck, now I’m hungry”. Not. A. Good. Idea. Unless you eat nothing but tofu and onion rings. Then in that case, log away my friend because who the hell wants to go back and read about that?!
Update:
It is true. Ms. Dewey is Papi from L word. I invite you all to just sit around and watch that damn search engine. She’s hella hot. Lord, oh lord.
I’ve got crap to do, including logging all my wonderful food today. Then I am going to In The Company of Dogs to spoil the hell outta Chloe. So I am going to head out but I leave you with this:
You’re Awesome. *high fives you*
Magical. I know, I felt it too.
-J
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Random Things
So here's a little randomness for your Wednesday...
Random Websites:
At work and you forgot your ipod at home? Yeah happens to me all the time....navigate your ass to songza.com
Ebaums's World. Hilarious soundboards that you can use to crank call people. They also have recordings of the soundboards being used. My favorite is of our "Governator" Arnold. click!
Random Lyrics for your head on hump day:
I was feelin’ like a creep
As I watched you asleep
Face down in the grass,
in the park, in the middle
of a hot afternoon
Your top was untied
And I thought how nice
It’d be to follow the sweat down your spine
You’re like my best friend
aw after a good, good drunk
You and me wake up and make love after a deep sleep
Where I was Dreamin’, I was Dreamin’ of a
Dreamgirl
Random Song Remix:
Tegan and Sara - Walking with a Ghost (The Rentals Remix)
****I found the "crash into me" remix that I wanted to post on here earlier, but didn't because I couldn't find it. I love it :]
Dave Matthews Band - Crash Into Me (Remix)
Random Facts:
-The clock in my car is 23 minutes fast.
-I put vaseline on my lips at night so they are super soft when I wake up.
-I have perfected the high five. Trust me.
-I have the sexiest pack of gum you will ever see.
Random Loved picture:
Me and my Grandma playing at an arcade. I love her face.
Happy Hump Day!
Random Websites:
At work and you forgot your ipod at home? Yeah happens to me all the time....navigate your ass to songza.com
Ebaums's World. Hilarious soundboards that you can use to crank call people. They also have recordings of the soundboards being used. My favorite is of our "Governator" Arnold. click!
Random Lyrics for your head on hump day:
I was feelin’ like a creep
As I watched you asleep
Face down in the grass,
in the park, in the middle
of a hot afternoon
Your top was untied
And I thought how nice
It’d be to follow the sweat down your spine
You’re like my best friend
aw after a good, good drunk
You and me wake up and make love after a deep sleep
Where I was Dreamin’, I was Dreamin’ of a
Dreamgirl
Random Song Remix:
Tegan and Sara - Walking with a Ghost (The Rentals Remix)
****I found the "crash into me" remix that I wanted to post on here earlier, but didn't because I couldn't find it. I love it :]
Dave Matthews Band - Crash Into Me (Remix)
Random Facts:
-The clock in my car is 23 minutes fast.
-I put vaseline on my lips at night so they are super soft when I wake up.
-I have perfected the high five. Trust me.
-I have the sexiest pack of gum you will ever see.
Random Loved picture:
Me and my Grandma playing at an arcade. I love her face.
Happy Hump Day!
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Updates Galore
1. My computer crashed AGAIN. So, it’s being written off as a lemon. I was always told if life gives you lemons make lemonade, but geek squad said they’d give me a new computer. So I said, “Okay, I hate regular lemonade anyways”.
2. I might be moving to a house on a street called “Clintonia”. Every time I say “Clintonia” I think “clit”. I wish it was “Clitonia”.
3. I didn’t sign onto myspace for a week. It felt fantastic.
4. Slimfast is heaven.
5. I went insane for a day and thought I would cut cheese out of my diet thinking it was making me gain weight. When I saw how grumpy I was, I decided that for the sake of all the loved ones in my life, I’d continue my cheese indulgence, just for them. I’m happy again.
6. I haven’t seen any full episodes of L word yet. I only saw the online premiere. It sucks. BUT it’s kind of nice knowing that I am going to play catch up and probably watch all the episodes back to back. High five for no cable.
7. I was surfing the web a while ago and found this website. I swear to god it’s the actress that plays Papi on L Word. I could be wrong. If that’s the case, I owe you some bread in a can.
8. Yes, I did say bread in a can. I received some bread in a can from a good ole’ cheese lovin’ co worker of mine. I’ll just call her Sanders. But we can call the bread insane for having 130 calories per serving and 8 servings per can.
9. I’ve learned that some people never grow up. And that you can’t make them. So if you plan on being in my life, let’s keep the game playing to a minimum. Because I wont stay around to put up with it. And that’s me, being blunt and to the point. If you don’t like it, put a comment in my suggestion box. I go through it weekly, and take it all into consideration [set it on fire].
10. I like “shoes” <3
Hope life is treating you all well. I am going to try and write blogs on my sidekick and post them when I can. I'm getting desperate, I know.
FYI: My boobs miss your boobs. Let's set up a play date.
-J
2. I might be moving to a house on a street called “Clintonia”. Every time I say “Clintonia” I think “clit”. I wish it was “Clitonia”.
3. I didn’t sign onto myspace for a week. It felt fantastic.
4. Slimfast is heaven.
5. I went insane for a day and thought I would cut cheese out of my diet thinking it was making me gain weight. When I saw how grumpy I was, I decided that for the sake of all the loved ones in my life, I’d continue my cheese indulgence, just for them. I’m happy again.
6. I haven’t seen any full episodes of L word yet. I only saw the online premiere. It sucks. BUT it’s kind of nice knowing that I am going to play catch up and probably watch all the episodes back to back. High five for no cable.
7. I was surfing the web a while ago and found this website. I swear to god it’s the actress that plays Papi on L Word. I could be wrong. If that’s the case, I owe you some bread in a can.
8. Yes, I did say bread in a can. I received some bread in a can from a good ole’ cheese lovin’ co worker of mine. I’ll just call her Sanders. But we can call the bread insane for having 130 calories per serving and 8 servings per can.
9. I’ve learned that some people never grow up. And that you can’t make them. So if you plan on being in my life, let’s keep the game playing to a minimum. Because I wont stay around to put up with it. And that’s me, being blunt and to the point. If you don’t like it, put a comment in my suggestion box. I go through it weekly, and take it all into consideration [set it on fire].
10. I like “shoes” <3
Hope life is treating you all well. I am going to try and write blogs on my sidekick and post them when I can. I'm getting desperate, I know.
FYI: My boobs miss your boobs. Let's set up a play date.
-J
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
This is ME Exuding "Niceness"
Let me just start off by reminding you guys that I am weird. Weird random things piss me off. Just the sight of them. For instance, yellow smiley faces. Douche bags. Cans of soda that are made to look and sound like name brand soda, but soooo aren't.
Okay, I understand that not everyone can afford name brand, or just don't care and like to save a dime or two. Whatever floats your boat. But do these companies really feel the need to make their product almost identical to name brand? There's no point in this. People who are buying the knock off know they are buying a knock off and for good reason. Don't be an ass and insult my intelligence by putting Aunt Jemimo syrup on the shelf next to Aunt Jemima. And have Aunt Jemimo have slightly smaller tits and a little bit saggier ass. All it does is for the next six months (does syrup even expire?) is remind me, every fuckin time I open up my cupboard, that I got Aunt Jemimo. She's not nearly as hot as Aunt Jemima. And let's face it, she's a little slutty.
Hmm so tangents are cool. Moving back to the point. I'm starting a petition to do away with the playboy bunny icon. I'm sick of it. It's so uncalled for. And who the hell decided it cool in the first place? Does having it tattooed on your ass make you hot? Absolutely not. And it sure as hell doesn't make you one of Heffner's ladies. It just makes you a knock off brand. So fuckin stop it already.
And while I'm at it, something else that makes me sick is the As Seen On TV bullshit. Seriously?! It's all just CRAP. Like really, some guy was sitting at home and wanted to make it rich. So he was like, "Hey, I don't really want to work hard for my money, so I'll just come up with some crap that people will want to buy. I'll hire actors to do testimonies on how much they love my product, and money will just fall on my lap". I refuse to support those jerk off's. And seriously, I can't even look at their website without wanting to stab myself in the eye with a spork.
This site rules me.
I'm off to watch a movie and harass people via text. It'll be glorious.
-J
Okay, I understand that not everyone can afford name brand, or just don't care and like to save a dime or two. Whatever floats your boat. But do these companies really feel the need to make their product almost identical to name brand? There's no point in this. People who are buying the knock off know they are buying a knock off and for good reason. Don't be an ass and insult my intelligence by putting Aunt Jemimo syrup on the shelf next to Aunt Jemima. And have Aunt Jemimo have slightly smaller tits and a little bit saggier ass. All it does is for the next six months (does syrup even expire?) is remind me, every fuckin time I open up my cupboard, that I got Aunt Jemimo. She's not nearly as hot as Aunt Jemima. And let's face it, she's a little slutty.
Hmm so tangents are cool. Moving back to the point. I'm starting a petition to do away with the playboy bunny icon. I'm sick of it. It's so uncalled for. And who the hell decided it cool in the first place? Does having it tattooed on your ass make you hot? Absolutely not. And it sure as hell doesn't make you one of Heffner's ladies. It just makes you a knock off brand. So fuckin stop it already.
And while I'm at it, something else that makes me sick is the As Seen On TV bullshit. Seriously?! It's all just CRAP. Like really, some guy was sitting at home and wanted to make it rich. So he was like, "Hey, I don't really want to work hard for my money, so I'll just come up with some crap that people will want to buy. I'll hire actors to do testimonies on how much they love my product, and money will just fall on my lap". I refuse to support those jerk off's. And seriously, I can't even look at their website without wanting to stab myself in the eye with a spork.
This site rules me.
I'm off to watch a movie and harass people via text. It'll be glorious.
-J
Monday, January 7, 2008
I Got Cheese On My Boob
You know what's funny? You think I'm kidding about my title. I'm so not. Let me paint you a picture. I'm in my work pants, a Hane's white t-shirt, slippers with Will and Grace playing in the background. I'm cooking me a little macaroni and cheese, you know, a typical night for me. My macaroni is done and it's ready for the cheese. The cheese is in this ridiculous foil/plastic pouch thing. Although it's fun to rub on your boobs and squish between your hands and cheeks, it's nearly impossible to get open. Even though it has tons of little notches on both ends, no one with normal human strength could really tear it open. And for some reason I don't own a pair of scissors. So I use a knife to hack into the end of it and tore it open. Normally, I prefer to just clip the corner off so that way i can squeeze every last drop of cheese out. But this got cut down the middle and torn open. So now there is no clean and efficient way to get the cheese out. I mean, the majority of it came out in a big glob, but there was so much left in the creases and corners of the package that I couldn't throw it away. I was like, switching the thing from hand to hand...cheese is dropping out and getting on the counter...I start shaking the bag...some more cheese falls out..I pull out my dyke fingers and start scraping at the bag. It was so tragic and pathetic; I fumbled the whole time. Kind of like my "first time". Except no one got off. And what was left was a joke of a meal and cheese on my boob. Not even on my boob. On my shirt, on my boob. If it were on my boob and not my shirt, I might have been able to pay someone to lick it off. Fuck that, I would have licked it off. But it's on my shirt. So the only person willing to lick it off is Chloe. And well, I'm pretty sure that would be frowned upon.
So last night was the L Word premiere. Sadly I do not have cable. But I did catch it online and was told that I didn't miss much on the live showing. I got a call from Arlan saying that Rachel Shelley was all in her presence and stuff. Can we just stop and give a moment of silence at how fucking hot Rachel Shelley is, please? I mean, the hair, the bod and the accent. And to be honest, her bad attitude in earlier seasons didn't leave a bad taste in my mouth at all. In fact, it was pretty fuckin' hot.
So later on in the night I get a text from Arlan saying that Paris Hilton was there. I mean, I don't even know what to think about that. Whatever. So I got a link today with pictures from last night...check them out if you dare. I like to think that in the picture of her whispering in Ilene's ear, she's saying "You suck for killing off Dana. And you better think twice if you ever want to stay in any of my choice hotels". And what is with Kate hanging out with Paris?! Doesn't Kate know that Paris didn't get the Hilton fortune. Fuck. We don't need Paris on our team. She's the straight girl who makes out with chicks for the attention from guys. Okay, okay. I'll reconsider if she agrees to do a sex tape with another chick with night vision and heavy eyeliner. But that is the ONLY way I'll rethink it. And how is it that in nearly every picture I see of Paris, her mouth is open? I mean, is it just out of habit? She's given so many blow jobs that now it just kind of hangs open?
Anyways...yay for L Word being on. Yay that Monday is over. And yay that I'm in bed watching a movie and totally relaxed.
OH and...up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, b, a, b, a, select, select, start.
-J
PS. I still have cheese on my boob.
So last night was the L Word premiere. Sadly I do not have cable. But I did catch it online and was told that I didn't miss much on the live showing. I got a call from Arlan saying that Rachel Shelley was all in her presence and stuff. Can we just stop and give a moment of silence at how fucking hot Rachel Shelley is, please? I mean, the hair, the bod and the accent. And to be honest, her bad attitude in earlier seasons didn't leave a bad taste in my mouth at all. In fact, it was pretty fuckin' hot.
So later on in the night I get a text from Arlan saying that Paris Hilton was there. I mean, I don't even know what to think about that. Whatever. So I got a link today with pictures from last night...check them out if you dare. I like to think that in the picture of her whispering in Ilene's ear, she's saying "You suck for killing off Dana. And you better think twice if you ever want to stay in any of my choice hotels". And what is with Kate hanging out with Paris?! Doesn't Kate know that Paris didn't get the Hilton fortune. Fuck. We don't need Paris on our team. She's the straight girl who makes out with chicks for the attention from guys. Okay, okay. I'll reconsider if she agrees to do a sex tape with another chick with night vision and heavy eyeliner. But that is the ONLY way I'll rethink it. And how is it that in nearly every picture I see of Paris, her mouth is open? I mean, is it just out of habit? She's given so many blow jobs that now it just kind of hangs open?
Anyways...yay for L Word being on. Yay that Monday is over. And yay that I'm in bed watching a movie and totally relaxed.
OH and...up, up, down, down, left, right, left, right, b, a, b, a, select, select, start.
-J
PS. I still have cheese on my boob.
Saturday, January 5, 2008
Thursday, January 3, 2008
freewrite
**this is a journal. i am disabling comments. just because it's being posted today, doesn't mean that's what i feel today. feelings were pulled from years ago, months ago, hours ago, seconds ago from different people and from a different me. but all that really doesn't matter. please don't question my intention, my feelings or what this whole thing is about. it's my heart in no particular form.**
this comes too late. heavy on my chest and restricting my breath. by no means a writer, by no means a lyricist. i'm writing and screaming it out. free. and clear. i don't care who stumbles by and hears. innocence, free and true. got scared when it grabbed a hold of you. grabbed your hand and led the way. you feared all that you had to say. coming from your heart and coming from within. afraid to walk that line again, i cant blame you. your lack of trust a pistol aimed at your own heart. no trust in yourself to not tear this whole thing apart. no trust in the heart staring back at you. yearning to be let in, holding back fearing of how it would end. let go. just let go, taunted me again and again. pulled out this supple red heart and sewed it on my crisp white sleeve. Creased and clean, oh so naive. in and out of love we went. to be honest i'd do it again. but there was a cold, hard barrel of a gun pressed hard against your chest, and no trust in your lack of grip. so turn it out, turn it around. look at what you found. i'm the old to all of your new. my thriving, red heart borrowed and returned, stone, cold and blue. all the lyrical fuck you's. things exaggerated, unfounded and untrue. i am too a guilty party, ran my mouth in hopes to figure out you. went about it the wrong way, but trust never malicious in any way. hate me, i do too. whatever is easiest for you. intimate moments belittled and divulged making me feel like a fool. bedroom lies through eyes. seen through a one way mirror, my thoughts, words and heart left unheard. saw what you thought you wanted to see, and believed what you wanted to hear. hard to think that i'd still be here. through it all, ready to make amends and quite possibly, begin again? don't group me with the rest of them. forgiving and understanding of this life we can all call hell. i've got this, and i've got that, but then somehow lonely again. how could it be true? despising everything in others, you can't bare to think is true in you. believe me, i know and i knew, and its what drew me. to you. it became a game that i didn't care to win. so much trust in the grip of mine to hold tight, but you were right. now its clear and i can see. learned to forge ahead and start a new. i thank you for that. a mistake will never be called you and me. delicate space between, but intimately intertwined our hearts will be. from a distance, and its nice. to step up for you, i wouldnt think twice. stronger for what we've been through, its definitely true. i'm here. i'll always pick up that call on me from you. moved on and learning i look forward to our next chapter. whatever it may be, but lets let it be clean. clean from tear stains and regrets. after all, we've done all that before. i'm mopping up this red blood on the floor; i'll wear this bleeding heavy heart on my sleeve no more. sorry for what went wrong and i'll gladly take back my knife. lets get busy living this dream called life. we're alright.
-J
this comes too late. heavy on my chest and restricting my breath. by no means a writer, by no means a lyricist. i'm writing and screaming it out. free. and clear. i don't care who stumbles by and hears. innocence, free and true. got scared when it grabbed a hold of you. grabbed your hand and led the way. you feared all that you had to say. coming from your heart and coming from within. afraid to walk that line again, i cant blame you. your lack of trust a pistol aimed at your own heart. no trust in yourself to not tear this whole thing apart. no trust in the heart staring back at you. yearning to be let in, holding back fearing of how it would end. let go. just let go, taunted me again and again. pulled out this supple red heart and sewed it on my crisp white sleeve. Creased and clean, oh so naive. in and out of love we went. to be honest i'd do it again. but there was a cold, hard barrel of a gun pressed hard against your chest, and no trust in your lack of grip. so turn it out, turn it around. look at what you found. i'm the old to all of your new. my thriving, red heart borrowed and returned, stone, cold and blue. all the lyrical fuck you's. things exaggerated, unfounded and untrue. i am too a guilty party, ran my mouth in hopes to figure out you. went about it the wrong way, but trust never malicious in any way. hate me, i do too. whatever is easiest for you. intimate moments belittled and divulged making me feel like a fool. bedroom lies through eyes. seen through a one way mirror, my thoughts, words and heart left unheard. saw what you thought you wanted to see, and believed what you wanted to hear. hard to think that i'd still be here. through it all, ready to make amends and quite possibly, begin again? don't group me with the rest of them. forgiving and understanding of this life we can all call hell. i've got this, and i've got that, but then somehow lonely again. how could it be true? despising everything in others, you can't bare to think is true in you. believe me, i know and i knew, and its what drew me. to you. it became a game that i didn't care to win. so much trust in the grip of mine to hold tight, but you were right. now its clear and i can see. learned to forge ahead and start a new. i thank you for that. a mistake will never be called you and me. delicate space between, but intimately intertwined our hearts will be. from a distance, and its nice. to step up for you, i wouldnt think twice. stronger for what we've been through, its definitely true. i'm here. i'll always pick up that call on me from you. moved on and learning i look forward to our next chapter. whatever it may be, but lets let it be clean. clean from tear stains and regrets. after all, we've done all that before. i'm mopping up this red blood on the floor; i'll wear this bleeding heavy heart on my sleeve no more. sorry for what went wrong and i'll gladly take back my knife. lets get busy living this dream called life. we're alright.
-J
Wednesday, December 26, 2007
Tattoos of Memories
They say the strongest sense tied to memory is smell. I beg to differ. I've noticed that when I listen to music that I have been listening to for months or even years, the music moves me the same way it did the first time I heard it.
Alanis Morrissett's Jagged Little Pill: I remember my dad and I jumping around the living room when I must have been, I don't know, 12? We screamed the lyrics out loud and hopped around the living room together banging our heads and kicking our feet. Laughing, high-fiving, grinning so hard you couldn't see our eyes. I still see the lines in the corners of his eyes and his mouth because he was smiling so hard. He was embracing my music; he was embracing me. I started going to Border's to buy cd's more often after this.
Sublime's Title Album: I used to listen to this whole CD on repeat while I played Diddy Kong Racing on my N64. I can still see the little go karts speeding around corners as I picked up balloons and dodged oil slicks. I was the shit at that game. I loved being a kid. The only thing I needed to worry about at that age was getting good grades and playing softball. My parents worked hard long hours to bring in the money to allow me to, when you really break it down, play a game. I devoted my life to perfecting using a stick, to hit a ball, to get squares. Plain and simple. If only I knew that life would never be that simple. Ever again. Either way, this was my soundtrack then.
Matchbox Twenty's Yourself or Someone Like You: My mom and I used to listen to this. I was in high school. My parents were splitting up and for the first time I didn't see my mom as this invincible superhero. She ached just like I did sometimes, she was only human and was doing the best that she could for me given the circumstances. Trying her damnedest to make sure my life didn't skip a beat; all the while hers was being picked up and shaken upside down like some change tray out of an old Datsun. She was kind of starting her life over and unsure, just as much as I was, of what tomorrow would bring. All we knew was what we knew that day. I can still see the side of her face as she drove our 1992 Toyota 4Runner. The way it looked as she sang along. The way her eyes focused on the road and her heart focused on the lyrics. We never really talked when this CD was playing. We both knew that each other was taking from the songs just what we needed to get by. We sang along together as if to say to each other "I know".
Dave Matthews' song Break Free: The feeling of a true love for me. Before things got messy and life got in the way. The pace of my breath, the pounding of my heart, the rhythm of my step; that same beat is brought back again and again. I wouldn't change the feeling I get in my stomach or the inevitable grin I can NEVER hold back when I hear this song, for anything in the world. I used to think I needed that person to feel that way still. Held on tight until my hands ached. But once I let go, they still rocked my world through this song as much as they had inspired me to hit repeat and sing along loud, and all obnoxious-like, parked in front of Walgreens so long ago. There are no more questions of what might have been or what went wrong. I don't think they know how thankful I am for the life they pumped through my veins at a time when I thought my life was going to hit a brick wall doing 130. What's left is the good of us in this song. At least for me...
Green Days' song Time of your Life: Many people in my life know the significance of this song for me. Green Day was a hidden gem in my friend Ashley's CD collection. I ganked it from her and played it on the stereo at home. One night I stumbled upon my dad listening to this song. He was sitting in his recliner, eyes closed, head back, feet crossed at the ankles and bouncing with the beat of the song. He started crying. I don't know if he knew I was there sitting on the couch when he started crying, but I just sat and watched. He was crying for the strength he thought he had lost, for the life he thought he was letting slip through his rough, hard working fingers. But all of that was sitting on the fucking couch right in front of him. I hope he found all the answers he wanted in this song. I wanted to tell him that it WAS worth all the while. To me HE WAS worth all the while. I chose to play this song at his funeral. And as luck would have it, a couple months later, this song was chosen by my peers at school to be our graduation song. When this song started to play after everyone had walked across the stage at Memorial Auditorium, I saw his face and thought "thanks for showing up".
And to think, every song has its own beat that is brought back to me again when I listen to it. The way I felt, when I let that song consume me for the first time however long ago, is still fresh. There are so many other songs I could write about. Like how every time I hear Don Gon Do It by the Rapture I see Winter's face and hear her reminding of how at 2:40 she simply loves the clapping. Then raises her hands, looks to her right and claps the beat. Or how I see Melissa's face and leg kick every damn time I hear Tony the Beat by The Sounds. That leg kick is followed by a "Heyyyyyyyy let's kick it".
I have a lot to be thankful for, huh?
*answers self by nodding* Absolutely.
-J
Alanis Morrissett's Jagged Little Pill: I remember my dad and I jumping around the living room when I must have been, I don't know, 12? We screamed the lyrics out loud and hopped around the living room together banging our heads and kicking our feet. Laughing, high-fiving, grinning so hard you couldn't see our eyes. I still see the lines in the corners of his eyes and his mouth because he was smiling so hard. He was embracing my music; he was embracing me. I started going to Border's to buy cd's more often after this.
Sublime's Title Album: I used to listen to this whole CD on repeat while I played Diddy Kong Racing on my N64. I can still see the little go karts speeding around corners as I picked up balloons and dodged oil slicks. I was the shit at that game. I loved being a kid. The only thing I needed to worry about at that age was getting good grades and playing softball. My parents worked hard long hours to bring in the money to allow me to, when you really break it down, play a game. I devoted my life to perfecting using a stick, to hit a ball, to get squares. Plain and simple. If only I knew that life would never be that simple. Ever again. Either way, this was my soundtrack then.
Matchbox Twenty's Yourself or Someone Like You: My mom and I used to listen to this. I was in high school. My parents were splitting up and for the first time I didn't see my mom as this invincible superhero. She ached just like I did sometimes, she was only human and was doing the best that she could for me given the circumstances. Trying her damnedest to make sure my life didn't skip a beat; all the while hers was being picked up and shaken upside down like some change tray out of an old Datsun. She was kind of starting her life over and unsure, just as much as I was, of what tomorrow would bring. All we knew was what we knew that day. I can still see the side of her face as she drove our 1992 Toyota 4Runner. The way it looked as she sang along. The way her eyes focused on the road and her heart focused on the lyrics. We never really talked when this CD was playing. We both knew that each other was taking from the songs just what we needed to get by. We sang along together as if to say to each other "I know".
Dave Matthews' song Break Free: The feeling of a true love for me. Before things got messy and life got in the way. The pace of my breath, the pounding of my heart, the rhythm of my step; that same beat is brought back again and again. I wouldn't change the feeling I get in my stomach or the inevitable grin I can NEVER hold back when I hear this song, for anything in the world. I used to think I needed that person to feel that way still. Held on tight until my hands ached. But once I let go, they still rocked my world through this song as much as they had inspired me to hit repeat and sing along loud, and all obnoxious-like, parked in front of Walgreens so long ago. There are no more questions of what might have been or what went wrong. I don't think they know how thankful I am for the life they pumped through my veins at a time when I thought my life was going to hit a brick wall doing 130. What's left is the good of us in this song. At least for me...
Green Days' song Time of your Life: Many people in my life know the significance of this song for me. Green Day was a hidden gem in my friend Ashley's CD collection. I ganked it from her and played it on the stereo at home. One night I stumbled upon my dad listening to this song. He was sitting in his recliner, eyes closed, head back, feet crossed at the ankles and bouncing with the beat of the song. He started crying. I don't know if he knew I was there sitting on the couch when he started crying, but I just sat and watched. He was crying for the strength he thought he had lost, for the life he thought he was letting slip through his rough, hard working fingers. But all of that was sitting on the fucking couch right in front of him. I hope he found all the answers he wanted in this song. I wanted to tell him that it WAS worth all the while. To me HE WAS worth all the while. I chose to play this song at his funeral. And as luck would have it, a couple months later, this song was chosen by my peers at school to be our graduation song. When this song started to play after everyone had walked across the stage at Memorial Auditorium, I saw his face and thought "thanks for showing up".
And to think, every song has its own beat that is brought back to me again when I listen to it. The way I felt, when I let that song consume me for the first time however long ago, is still fresh. There are so many other songs I could write about. Like how every time I hear Don Gon Do It by the Rapture I see Winter's face and hear her reminding of how at 2:40 she simply loves the clapping. Then raises her hands, looks to her right and claps the beat. Or how I see Melissa's face and leg kick every damn time I hear Tony the Beat by The Sounds. That leg kick is followed by a "Heyyyyyyyy let's kick it".
I have a lot to be thankful for, huh?
*answers self by nodding* Absolutely.
-J
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
I Want a Girl Who's Too Sad to Give a Fuck
I'm kind of using this one as my journal. I've got a leather bound notebook and pen on my nightstand but I don't want to write. I want to type. It's faster that way to get my ramblings out. I've disabled comments because I'm not really looking for a response.
Let me just say...I am so glad I got an ipod. I am attached to the damn thing. If I could make sweet love to my ipod I would. When my other nano died, I learned to get along without it. But now that I have a new one, it gets to the point where my ears hurt because I have my headphones in for so long. Thank god for my ipod alarm clock stereo thingy or else my ears would never get a break. Music is really helping me a lot lately. Right now I'm going through a change in my life. I'm in a new city, which I chose. I am glad I did, because I wanted to start over, fresh and new. I know people here, but they are all new. I find myself yearning for an intimate connection with someone. Someone I could tell all my in's and out's to. Someone I could let in all the way, that could break my fucking heart, but would never dare. Kind of like a drug. Do too much and it'll kill you, but that high is so worth the risk. Reminds me of one of my favorite lyrics: "Loves just an excuse to get hurt/And to hurt/Do you like to hurt?/I do, I do/Then hurt me"
Obviously, no one wants to get hurt. But isn't it great to be in a position that you could be so incredibly vulnerable to being hurt by someone that at the same time you feel 100% safe? I miss the feeling of having my guard down and the confidence that comes with being someone. People take advantage of that. How you know undoubtedly that when you reach for their hand they will always open up their fingers for you to slip yours in between. How, no matter what time of night, you can throw your arm around them and they will always tuckle up to you and go "mmm". How you know that whenever you leave a room that they will be right there watching. That feeling of comfort that comes with having someone in your life that wants to be your everything.
I miss that. I feel like a pilot light. I don't work unless there's a spark. And right now, there's no fucking spark. It's wake up in the morning, go to work, come home and go to sleep. No one to share my day with, no one to cook for, no one to pleasure. Life is so mundane. Black and white. This is my black and it's low. And my only solace is knowing that everyone goes through this, at one point or another. People have come out alive, happy and sharing their lives with someone that means the world to them. I want to mean the world to someone. I want to be someones infatuation. Someone who loves my eccentricities and can love me in spite of my flaws. Someone who would gladly pick out the cherries of the Cherry Garcia for me because although I eat the cherries every once in a while, I really just like the chocolate chunks. Someone who wont complain that I cook macaroni and cheese three times a week. Someone who has no problem spending an entire Saturday making out with me in bed and watching movies with me even if they are sappy like "Steel Magnolias" or gory and intense like "Seven" or "Crash". Someone who needs no other reason to smack my ass besides "because it's there". Someone who can stand me blaring Dave Matthews 24/7 because when it comes down to it, his lyrics move me and have helped me through the hardest times of my life. I guess I could go on forever talking about all the things I wish for in a partner/lover/best friend. But doing so isn't going to get them to me. Fate will. I guess I will have to respect that.
That fucking sucks. Fate has turned out to be a real whore to me. She owes me.
But seriously, it seems like everyone around me has somebody. Why is that?! Can't there be miserable people around me when I'm feeling down? Even the asian lady who thinks Chloe is going to attack her has somebody. She's only ten fucking pounds lady and is more scared of that leaf than she is of you. Jesus Christ. I'm sure her steamed rice and dim sum is fucking bomb, but what about my mexican lasagna?! My bacon provolone pasta?! How come no one wants to eat my food?! Well, they can all just eat me.
I want to gamble everything for love. Meet me in Vegas.
In the meantime, I need to laugh.
Where's My Money Man
Brian's Novel
Ding Fries are Done
Believe me, I mean it when I say, Happy Holidays to you all :]
-J
Let me just say...I am so glad I got an ipod. I am attached to the damn thing. If I could make sweet love to my ipod I would. When my other nano died, I learned to get along without it. But now that I have a new one, it gets to the point where my ears hurt because I have my headphones in for so long. Thank god for my ipod alarm clock stereo thingy or else my ears would never get a break. Music is really helping me a lot lately. Right now I'm going through a change in my life. I'm in a new city, which I chose. I am glad I did, because I wanted to start over, fresh and new. I know people here, but they are all new. I find myself yearning for an intimate connection with someone. Someone I could tell all my in's and out's to. Someone I could let in all the way, that could break my fucking heart, but would never dare. Kind of like a drug. Do too much and it'll kill you, but that high is so worth the risk. Reminds me of one of my favorite lyrics: "Loves just an excuse to get hurt/And to hurt/Do you like to hurt?/I do, I do/Then hurt me"
Obviously, no one wants to get hurt. But isn't it great to be in a position that you could be so incredibly vulnerable to being hurt by someone that at the same time you feel 100% safe? I miss the feeling of having my guard down and the confidence that comes with being someone. People take advantage of that. How you know undoubtedly that when you reach for their hand they will always open up their fingers for you to slip yours in between. How, no matter what time of night, you can throw your arm around them and they will always tuckle up to you and go "mmm". How you know that whenever you leave a room that they will be right there watching. That feeling of comfort that comes with having someone in your life that wants to be your everything.
I miss that. I feel like a pilot light. I don't work unless there's a spark. And right now, there's no fucking spark. It's wake up in the morning, go to work, come home and go to sleep. No one to share my day with, no one to cook for, no one to pleasure. Life is so mundane. Black and white. This is my black and it's low. And my only solace is knowing that everyone goes through this, at one point or another. People have come out alive, happy and sharing their lives with someone that means the world to them. I want to mean the world to someone. I want to be someones infatuation. Someone who loves my eccentricities and can love me in spite of my flaws. Someone who would gladly pick out the cherries of the Cherry Garcia for me because although I eat the cherries every once in a while, I really just like the chocolate chunks. Someone who wont complain that I cook macaroni and cheese three times a week. Someone who has no problem spending an entire Saturday making out with me in bed and watching movies with me even if they are sappy like "Steel Magnolias" or gory and intense like "Seven" or "Crash". Someone who needs no other reason to smack my ass besides "because it's there". Someone who can stand me blaring Dave Matthews 24/7 because when it comes down to it, his lyrics move me and have helped me through the hardest times of my life. I guess I could go on forever talking about all the things I wish for in a partner/lover/best friend. But doing so isn't going to get them to me. Fate will. I guess I will have to respect that.
That fucking sucks. Fate has turned out to be a real whore to me. She owes me.
But seriously, it seems like everyone around me has somebody. Why is that?! Can't there be miserable people around me when I'm feeling down? Even the asian lady who thinks Chloe is going to attack her has somebody. She's only ten fucking pounds lady and is more scared of that leaf than she is of you. Jesus Christ. I'm sure her steamed rice and dim sum is fucking bomb, but what about my mexican lasagna?! My bacon provolone pasta?! How come no one wants to eat my food?! Well, they can all just eat me.
I want to gamble everything for love. Meet me in Vegas.
In the meantime, I need to laugh.
Where's My Money Man
Brian's Novel
Ding Fries are Done
Believe me, I mean it when I say, Happy Holidays to you all :]
-J
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