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apathy is harder than it looks
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31.7.03
People I miss:
Sam, my brother (he's learning to love life in the northwoods of minnesota)
Alex, one of my antagonists (he's working where I am not)
Rosie, my sister (she is often working as well)
Karen, my mother (she is in Texas for unknown reasons, probally drug related)
Casey, one of my fellow antagonised persons (he is not working where I am)
Serena, my cousin from Ireland (yes, I miss her already, despite the fact she just left this morning)
Dad, my father, who is waiting for me in Japan
Dan aka Lank aka the man (I hope you are enjoying some asian-american cuisine!)
Brian aka Data aka the minion of the Dark Lord (-insert inside joke here, probally something about him being the whiggidy weiner-)
Chris aka goon (I'm going to Japan!!!) i still want in on the deal
and last but not least... nymphomaniac lifeguards that have teret's syndrome when they sleep (you know who you are, although I doubt you read this)
20:20
26.7.03
I am slightly angered at one of my best friends for degrading sexuality so much so I have decided to vent my frustation in verse.
Data exited the lavatory whistling and sauntering toward his cabin. Sunlight floated through the rustling leaves overhead as they shook in a light, comfortable summer breeze. Having just emptied his large intestine, Data felt ten times lighter and completely capable of handling any crap his 11 ten year olds could throw at him...except for a steel bunk-bed.
As Data approached the cabin he became blinded by the sun and couldn't see inside. He, therefore, was caught completly unaware when a horde of unbathed, butt-naked children flung a bunkbed onto him, toppling him and knocking him unconscious. Michael Franklin, the leader of the unclothed heathens, beat his chest while standing on a topbunk and howling in triumph to his lord and maker, the dark lord. Like lemmings following a volkswagon beetle off a cliff, the minions of Michael also reared up apelike in their bunks and joined in the howls of reverence.
Perturbed by the strange screams coming from their nearby cabin, the campers of seneca promply sprung into action by dragging their sleeping couselor out of his bed.
"Splinter! Splinter! I was playing magic and I was winning and then ben cheated and won, so I had joe beat the living shit out of him, but then ben started choked to death on his own blood and I don't know how to do the heimelich manuver!" shouted the prepubesant 10 year olds at their counselor, who was still rubbing his head which had landed hard on the floor.
"Uhh, you woke me up for this?" mumbled their counselor, who was still half asleep.
"No, we want ben to die. The reason we woke you up was because we heard strange noises coming from owl's feather!" explained the children in near unison. Adam became distracted by a stick he had in his hand so he lagged behind, which is understandable since if he didn't have either a stick or piece of paper in his possession he would burst into a tire fire so big it would put the state of wiscosin to shame.
"Oh snaps!" proclaimed their counselor, "it sounds as if michael is up to no good!"
Diving under his bed, the counselor found his old friend, Victoria, a spear-like weapon he had crafted several years ago from a broom stick in order to banish the dark lord to his dark realm, namely, the boy's bathroom.
"Allright children, I must see if she still works...Do I have any volunteers?" all the the children took a step back in unison to avoid being selected, except for Adam, who had now found a piece of wood shaped like a beach ball, so he was understandably the last to move backwards. "Fine, I shall have to get a different one," muttered the counselor. Suddenly, he remembered the squirrel Adam had purchased at the camp store and then "lost". Earlier during that rest period Adam had been too busy eating his boondoggle to notice that he had knocked his squirrel into his bag. Five minutes later he had informed his counselor it was missing. Five minutes after that, Adam forgot squirrels existed.
So the counselor walked over to Adam's bag, pulled out the squirrel, tossed it into the air and swung Victoria down upon it. The squirrel burst thousands of irredencent particles shimmering in the light like burning tires. "I am now ready" proclaimed the counselor.
Within several elongated strides he was at the door of Owl's Feather. One well placed kick flung the screen door from it's hinges, startling the minions of michael from their howls. Michael, however, was unimpressed by this intruder and promply signaled his co-campers to close in for the kill. They hesistated. Enraged, Michael launched his scrawny naked frame from his bunk toward Splinter, who stood defensively in front of Data. Victoria rose up to meet michael's forehead and pierce through it. The stick pierced brain but stoped on the opposite side of the skull. Splinter swung Victoria to toss michael from her and into the corner where he savagely hit the wall and sunk to the floor in a twitching mass like a dying chipmunk. The rest of the campers, terrified by what had just trangressed, burst from their beds and threw their unclad bodies through the metal screen windows into the freedom of the woods. Splinter, once sure they had all departed removed the bed from Data and awoke him by waving one of his camper's socks under Data's nose(it was ben's).
"Ralph. Why thank you Splinter... you saved my life!" hollered Data.
"Yes, I would enjoy partying with Lank and you and our three very attractive girlfriends tonight!" yelled Splinter.
And then the story went on too long so they all went off and got married.
The End.
17:25
moods simply result from the combination of many emotions over a given period of time. emotions last for only several seconds before being replaced. personalities simply exist as conglamerations of these moods. changing emotions in others changes who they are so try to change them for the better.
16:16
25.7.03
wow being in a car crash gives life a new perspective...my life sucks...I'm going to take a nap...okay maybe that isn't why my life sucks but I have my reasons...somewhere...over on the futon...
21:18
18.7.03
a friend is someone you talk out of comfortable situations in order to better themselves.
21:51
he opened the lines of communication as if he opened his veins with a penknife. triumphs and despair surged forward in a dizzying blur of blood.
21:51
11.7.03
I made the blog so you make the chili... please... okay... richard you have five seconds to make the chili or else I am getting gh...1...2...3...4...5......... crap... sandler, can you watch him and make sure he doesn't laugh at gage again... thanks
23:09
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