Journals92
Newest
Returning, Moving, Rebooting
3 min read
A concise summary: I have a new account at pissingwhee .
(Less concise starting now)
Why? Mostly because of the name. Partially because of the immense backlog of shit over here. Sometimes you just wanna turn your back on something and run into the arms of something really, really similar, but which is named Jose instead of John, and has a little facial hair, who doesn't fart in your car.
My original plan was to move the stuff I liked from here to there, and then deactivate this account, i.e. rive it with a metaphorical battle axe and take a piss on it. Not because I'm vindictive but because my newfound love of tomato products has apparently increased my need to piss to a degree that would almost make me think I have Brimley's disease.
Seriously. It's like every hour.
Anyway, whether or not I will actually do that is, as ever, a matter of how much effort I want to put in. Which is usually not much. But we'll see. It would be much cleaner if this account would die.
Also, I have a blog now. That's right. I am beginning the long journey into whoring myself out on the internet in a non-pornographic manner. I promise to put lots of awesome ads all over it in good time, because I know what you the people want, and advertising is It.
Other quick life updates: I quit my job and got a similar one at a more competently-run establishment. I went to South America for a few weeks and fell off a surfboard a lot and learned how to say 'blue footed booby' in Spanish and after I hurt myself falling off the surfboard I ate three jars of Nutella and watched exactly twelve movies in two days and many of them were fucking awful. Like The Game Plan. Sweet Jesus, don't ever watch that.
Now I work a lot, still a crapload more than your average bear, but I get one definite day off and sometimes half of one and that is so much better than it was before. I learned to drive a small Japanese tractor, and I played Guitar Hero for the first time, and have since ordered it from Amazon.
I am still waiting for it.
And that's about it, I think.
(Less concise starting now)
Why? Mostly because of the name. Partially because of the immense backlog of shit over here. Sometimes you just wanna turn your back on something and run into the arms of something really, really similar, but which is named Jose instead of John, and has a little facial hair, who doesn't fart in your car.
My original plan was to move the stuff I liked from here to there, and then deactivate this account, i.e. rive it with a metaphorical battle axe and take a piss on it. Not because I'm vindictive but because my newfound love of tomato products has apparently increased my need to piss to a degree that would almost make me think I have Brimley's disease.
Seriously. It's like every hour.
Anyway, whether or not I will actually do that is, as ever, a matter of how much effort I want to put in. Which is usually not much. But we'll see. It would be much cleaner if this account would die.
Also, I have a blog now. That's right. I am beginning the long journey into whoring myself out on the internet in a non-pornographic manner. I promise to put lots of awesome ads all over it in good time, because I know what you the people want, and advertising is It.
Other quick life updates: I quit my job and got a similar one at a more competently-run establishment. I went to South America for a few weeks and fell off a surfboard a lot and learned how to say 'blue footed booby' in Spanish and after I hurt myself falling off the surfboard I ate three jars of Nutella and watched exactly twelve movies in two days and many of them were fucking awful. Like The Game Plan. Sweet Jesus, don't ever watch that.
Now I work a lot, still a crapload more than your average bear, but I get one definite day off and sometimes half of one and that is so much better than it was before. I learned to drive a small Japanese tractor, and I played Guitar Hero for the first time, and have since ordered it from Amazon.
I am still waiting for it.
And that's about it, I think.
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An Update: Things are Exactly the Same
4 min read
Except I am now Lady Gaga. Which is extremely apropos because just the other day when I was drunk off my ass with exhaustion I literally peed myself laughing at my own music video when the people in white suits came out of the tanning beds. Also I've listened to that song ("Bad Romance", I recall naming it, thinking that because I say "bad romance" so much in the song I should title it thusly, although it was close between that and "LAHV LAHV LAHV I Want Yo Luuuv") so much that my sexy lyrical jibberish haunts me in the night.
God, I love me.
I don't know what I'm doing with my eye though. Am I adjusting my imaginary monocle? Am I suggesting that my eye is a rotating fuckhole?
Anyway. Since this account is still apparently Alive 'N' Twitchin' and I do occasionally pop by to see what's going on, I thought I would check in, and consider once again tearing it all down like in those movies where the hero decides they just CANNOT take it anymore and must tear things apart in order to incite change in their lives, almost like in High School Musical 3 but I think in that sequence there was more metaphorical agony and destruction than actual, as you could see from the Rotating Room of Sliding Around and Total Chaos. And then I would say No to That, the tearing down of the account in case you lost me, because it would take effort.
So, to update you on the past few months in the whirlwind saga that is my life: I am working even more. I had no idea I could work more than I was a few months ago but the level of ridiculousness for how much I can work keeps getting pushed up and honestly I don't know where this crazy train will go off the rails because apparently I can work For Fucking Ever and not collapse.
This is all the result of Continuing and Recurring Random Incidents That Cause Employee Shortages. Without going into too much detail, we keep getting temporarily fucked, and now my one boss (there are supposed to be three superiors above me) is trying to do three jobs and doing fabulously but people keep bitching about it anyway and crushing her soul like Italian people crushing grapes with their feet, and I do my best to help by doing the one thing I can do, and that's take care of the mundane day-to-day crap all day every day.
It's awesome, is what I'm trying to say.
But, BUT, because they need someone to be here all the time and everyone else is broken, they have given me a free apartment. Yaaaayyyy
YAAAAYYYYY
It's sweet, actually. I mean, in terms of Real Life, where people have expectations, it's not, but for me it is, because "sweet" in my world is defined as "I don't have to fucking live with my family anymore AND I get to pee in a toilet that doesn't have other peoples' puke remnants on it".
And all of this is a long way of saying what I've been saying; that if I was exhausted before, I am still/even more exhausted now, and if I didn't have a life before, I sure as hell have left the memory of one behind at this point. I work, I manage to feed myself, occasionally I clean myself, and I sleep. If I am being super ambitious I might go pick up my mail or sweep my floor. That is literally the extent of my activities. Except for this right now, dicking around on the internet when I should be sleeping.
I should really, REALLY be sleeping...
So that's what's happening; I will probably remain largely inactive for some time while I struggle with Extremely Basic Life Maintenance. But I will pop by from time to time to see what's up...
God, I love me.
I don't know what I'm doing with my eye though. Am I adjusting my imaginary monocle? Am I suggesting that my eye is a rotating fuckhole?
Anyway. Since this account is still apparently Alive 'N' Twitchin' and I do occasionally pop by to see what's going on, I thought I would check in, and consider once again tearing it all down like in those movies where the hero decides they just CANNOT take it anymore and must tear things apart in order to incite change in their lives, almost like in High School Musical 3 but I think in that sequence there was more metaphorical agony and destruction than actual, as you could see from the Rotating Room of Sliding Around and Total Chaos. And then I would say No to That, the tearing down of the account in case you lost me, because it would take effort.
So, to update you on the past few months in the whirlwind saga that is my life: I am working even more. I had no idea I could work more than I was a few months ago but the level of ridiculousness for how much I can work keeps getting pushed up and honestly I don't know where this crazy train will go off the rails because apparently I can work For Fucking Ever and not collapse.
This is all the result of Continuing and Recurring Random Incidents That Cause Employee Shortages. Without going into too much detail, we keep getting temporarily fucked, and now my one boss (there are supposed to be three superiors above me) is trying to do three jobs and doing fabulously but people keep bitching about it anyway and crushing her soul like Italian people crushing grapes with their feet, and I do my best to help by doing the one thing I can do, and that's take care of the mundane day-to-day crap all day every day.
It's awesome, is what I'm trying to say.
But, BUT, because they need someone to be here all the time and everyone else is broken, they have given me a free apartment. Yaaaayyyy
YAAAAYYYYY
It's sweet, actually. I mean, in terms of Real Life, where people have expectations, it's not, but for me it is, because "sweet" in my world is defined as "I don't have to fucking live with my family anymore AND I get to pee in a toilet that doesn't have other peoples' puke remnants on it".
And all of this is a long way of saying what I've been saying; that if I was exhausted before, I am still/even more exhausted now, and if I didn't have a life before, I sure as hell have left the memory of one behind at this point. I work, I manage to feed myself, occasionally I clean myself, and I sleep. If I am being super ambitious I might go pick up my mail or sweep my floor. That is literally the extent of my activities. Except for this right now, dicking around on the internet when I should be sleeping.
I should really, REALLY be sleeping...
So that's what's happening; I will probably remain largely inactive for some time while I struggle with Extremely Basic Life Maintenance. But I will pop by from time to time to see what's up...
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Holiday Wishes
1 min read
Hey folks!
I've been working a lot lately, such that it has consumed my life, such that I am literally living at work, and so don't have a lot of time for anything but bathing and sleeping, and sometimes not even bathing.
But I wanted to stop by and wish anyone still watching a very Happy Holidays, and if you are like all of us in my area, happy snow day!
I've been working a lot lately, such that it has consumed my life, such that I am literally living at work, and so don't have a lot of time for anything but bathing and sleeping, and sometimes not even bathing.
But I wanted to stop by and wish anyone still watching a very Happy Holidays, and if you are like all of us in my area, happy snow day!
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Whurgh: It Sums It Up
2 min read
Whurgh!
That was the noise I made when I lost my virginity.
I never had sex again.
No, actually, it is a mark of frustration and being fed up with myself, that is what it is.
Anyway, recent news goes like this:
1) I drove my car into a ditch, such that the bumper was mutilated and couldn't be driven;
2) The insurance company determined that the car was not worth fixing but they would give me a thousand dollars to get a different one;
3) I got a different one.
4) It is the most ridiculous fucking thing I could find.
5) It has places in it to hook up nitrous oxide.
Because when you get a car, your primary concern is, "yes, I see that it has low mileage, but is it NITROUS READY??"
It has a spoiler which makes it look very much like a retarded pterodactyl face. I considered for a while calling it "Retarded Pterodactyl Face" but decided it was too long. Also it would never fit on the license plates.
So that is the story with that. Also I went on vacay to Canada and learned about horsepacking some and saw belugas and bears, and also I read Fool by Christopher Moore which almost but not quite has become my new favorite of his (Lamb I think still occupies the top spot) but it is SO GOOD YOU GO READ THAT BITCHES.
Other than that, I am currently working a bajillion hours a week and do not draw hardly ever. So...there's that.
Drawing takes a long time, you guys. Sometimes I don't even like it. Am beginning to question my commitment. (Hee! "Beginning.")
Then again I don't do anything else hardly ever either, except work. I should probably do something about that soon. Reclaim my life and such. As soon as I have the energy to do so.
That was the noise I made when I lost my virginity.
I never had sex again.
No, actually, it is a mark of frustration and being fed up with myself, that is what it is.
Anyway, recent news goes like this:
1) I drove my car into a ditch, such that the bumper was mutilated and couldn't be driven;
2) The insurance company determined that the car was not worth fixing but they would give me a thousand dollars to get a different one;
3) I got a different one.
4) It is the most ridiculous fucking thing I could find.
5) It has places in it to hook up nitrous oxide.
Because when you get a car, your primary concern is, "yes, I see that it has low mileage, but is it NITROUS READY??"
It has a spoiler which makes it look very much like a retarded pterodactyl face. I considered for a while calling it "Retarded Pterodactyl Face" but decided it was too long. Also it would never fit on the license plates.
So that is the story with that. Also I went on vacay to Canada and learned about horsepacking some and saw belugas and bears, and also I read Fool by Christopher Moore which almost but not quite has become my new favorite of his (Lamb I think still occupies the top spot) but it is SO GOOD YOU GO READ THAT BITCHES.
Other than that, I am currently working a bajillion hours a week and do not draw hardly ever. So...there's that.
Drawing takes a long time, you guys. Sometimes I don't even like it. Am beginning to question my commitment. (Hee! "Beginning.")
Then again I don't do anything else hardly ever either, except work. I should probably do something about that soon. Reclaim my life and such. As soon as I have the energy to do so.
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If I Had a Billion Dollars
2 min read
If I were an eccentric billionaire, I would:
+Commission this guy
to carve into this osteological reproduction www.boneclones.com/BC-037.htm
+Shit, if I were a billionaire, I could get entire and multiple articulated skeletons carved into. It would be like a museum! Of defaced fake osteological replicated specimens! My God, it would be beautiful. AND I COULD HAVE RAVES THERE TOO OMG
+Become the first person to ride a giraffe (recorded, that is)
+Get a sunglass monocle (What? "That's too cool!" you say? "Your face will explode from the awesomeness" you say? "LUNACY" you scream into my face? No, my friends. I would so go there.)
+Have sex on/in an ancient building of great archaeological significance
+Have laser eye surgery
+Buy Montana and turn it into a wildlife refuge
+Maybe also some tropical islands and a country in Africa
+Get shot out of a cannon
+Publish a book full of nothing but whatever pops into my head for several hundred pages and maybe also with illustrations
+Found a college which costs only a small amount of money and features a course in Becoming a Crazy Survivalist Hermit Bastard Who Smells
+Fill a room in my house with various contraptions that feature inflatable moon-bounce material, including a mechanical bull, except I would make it a mechanical tiger-dragon instead
+Have grandiose wrestling matches suspended in the air in a glass box full of whipped cream
+Learn to snowboard
+Ride a great white shark as it breaches
+Replace wars with soccer matches
All this and more can happen if you are willing to donate only small millions of dollars to the cause Make Me an Eccentric Billionaire. Please open your heart and give today.
+Commission this guy
to carve into this osteological reproduction www.boneclones.com/BC-037.htm+Shit, if I were a billionaire, I could get entire and multiple articulated skeletons carved into. It would be like a museum! Of defaced fake osteological replicated specimens! My God, it would be beautiful. AND I COULD HAVE RAVES THERE TOO OMG
+Become the first person to ride a giraffe (recorded, that is)
+Get a sunglass monocle (What? "That's too cool!" you say? "Your face will explode from the awesomeness" you say? "LUNACY" you scream into my face? No, my friends. I would so go there.)
+Have sex on/in an ancient building of great archaeological significance
+Have laser eye surgery
+Buy Montana and turn it into a wildlife refuge
+Maybe also some tropical islands and a country in Africa
+Get shot out of a cannon
+Publish a book full of nothing but whatever pops into my head for several hundred pages and maybe also with illustrations
+Found a college which costs only a small amount of money and features a course in Becoming a Crazy Survivalist Hermit Bastard Who Smells
+Fill a room in my house with various contraptions that feature inflatable moon-bounce material, including a mechanical bull, except I would make it a mechanical tiger-dragon instead
+Have grandiose wrestling matches suspended in the air in a glass box full of whipped cream
+Learn to snowboard
+Ride a great white shark as it breaches
+Replace wars with soccer matches
All this and more can happen if you are willing to donate only small millions of dollars to the cause Make Me an Eccentric Billionaire. Please open your heart and give today.
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