..:S...P...I...D...E...R...B...I...T...E...S:..

Saturday, March 27, 2004

"What do you think about sex?"
"Well, you have to be careful 'n all. Diseases."
"Mental diseases?"
- The House Of Yes


Sorry about the lack of writing. random thoughts from work:
dude comes to fix the toilet and leaves a pile of toilet parts on the floor as he's leaving. i'm like, "uh, what's up?" i'm told that the toilet has been vandalized and we're going to need a new one. that got me to thinking. remember when you were a kid? think back to how you usually "vandalized" something. what did you do? you pissed or shit on it. so i wonder if this dude was like, "someone pissed on this thing. you got any enemies around here?" or maybe he's opening up the toilet shute frowning and mutters, "there a bunch of shit crammed in here. clearly it's a Sicilian message..."

anyway. that shit made me laugh all day and no one understood what the hell was so funny.

so my step-brother sent me an email saying a mortar blew up where he'd been standing about five minutes earlier. like KT said, how do you respond to that? here's how dangerous my day was bro:

dropped my ice cream. do i pick it up? it's days like these when you need faith, i'll tell ya.
see what i'm saying? clearly that's a whole different world over there and the sooner you get the hell back stateside the better.

and hey, Moscow! if you got access to a sand-covered computer you got to tell me something. what's your numbers? you know, your squad or division or unit or whatever they call it? i've been running into all sorts of ex-Army types. Army brothers, Army girlfriends, Army of One Rejects, and that's the first question that they ask me when i say you're over there. and i have no answer and my one attempt to throw out some numbers was less than successful. i said "i think it's the "4077th" and they're like, "oh, so he's in Korea eh? serving with Hawkeye?" so give me some numbers so i don't start making them up. example:

"did you say he's in the seventy-seventeenth? what's that?"
"well, you heard of Special Forces? they ain't that special compared to these dudes. in fact, one of the "special" duties of Special Forces is to do the seventy-seventeeths laundry..."

oh, get this: at the bookstore this vacant-looking sorority bitch walks through the door with her mom, looks around and snorts, "this place is so gay. get your stupid book so we can get out of here." now i pride myself on being someone who's never hit a female. but i choked one once to get her to shut the fuck up and this would have been number two if i could have gotten away with it. actually, now that i think about it, i should have slapped the living shit out of her with a book. any book. gay or straight. hmm. slapped the "living shit?" what does that mean? what's "living shit" do? could it vandalize a toilet? hey, that reminds me of that phrase that's misused every goddamn day:

"i could care less."

"NO. (speaking in an impatient Hannibal Lector voice) You COULDN'T care less."

the Fotolog is finally working so i was able to post a picture from my sister's show. her band Blood Dumpster (not to be confused with "Blood Buckets" which is what i told everybody it was) put on a quality metal-mash complete with her reading her lyrics from various paperback novels. they came, she screamed, and the rest of the band wore red slaughterhouse jackets to cover the blood-stains. what more could you want? shit, i can't remember what books she had in her hand up there. anyone remember?

today i was reading a great article in Esquire (which normally irritates the fuck out of me) about how everyone should have a nemesis and an arch-enemy and the important differences between them. i had one of each and i'll tell you all about them after i go to the diner and get some eggs with hot sauce. mmmmmm.

::: david - 4:20 PM [+] :::
...

“as useless as cops at the scene of the crime...”
- Jeff Buckley

“always scratching at the 8-Ball...”
- Social Distortion


for the longest time i thought that the Social D quote up there meant that he was, you know, scratching at the 8-Ball. like a lottery ticket or something. like it had gum stuck to it. like a scratch-n-sniff. like it had an itch. yeah i was confused, i first heard that song when i was real young.

i was at a party last night doing Irish Car Bombs to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day. not sure what all the ingredients were but the after-effects include causing you to sit for hours and stare at the demo on someone's PS2 hockey game like it’s a REAL game for hours and hours. some dude tripped over the controllers and unplugged them so i know for a fact that no one was playing. but that can’t stop the PS2. it just keeps on playing...all by itself. (“they’re using tools!”) i got so into watching that demo that, at one point, i even loudly complained about the computer not calling offsides. St. Louis won 3 to 2 after a breakaway with about a minute to go. Osgood made several good saves although i noticed he seemed to be favoring his left leg and...

oops. i guess there are some lingering effects to that drink after all.

just watched the movie "Threads." got it from the library. gloomy British WWIII apocalypse movie from the spooky cold war days. lots of rubble. not as much fun as "Miracle Mile." some woman just gave birth in some wreckage and chewed through the umbilical cord with her teeth. the movie made it’s point about 15 minutes in but i’m a sucker for end-of-the-world movies. except the movie “Until The End Of The World” which sucked ass (the Nick Cave song of the same name is just about perfect though) and this movie does have a final freeze-frame that’s excellent. you know, not to jump to conclusions, but now that i think about it? i’m pretty sure there was an anti-war message going on in this flick. especially when those starving limeys tore into the guts of that dead sheep like Han Solo trying to keep Luke warm. not as many laughs as say “Platoon” but i guess the comedy was too subtle for me. you know what pisses me off though? when they do those montages of squalor and horror and they show corpses and explosions that are obviously stock war footage. i want to say “no, that’s from Auschwitz you lazy bastard. No, that mushroom cloud is not over Liverpool, it’s over the Pacific Ocean. No, that explosion is from a dynamite arrow hitting the outhouse on Dukes of Hazard” makes me mad.

got a sweet pool stick for my birthday. has a spider carrying an 8-Ball into it’s web. cool orange and black Halloween colors on it. now i need to practice so i can take it to the bar and assemble it all slow and obnoxious. that reminds me of this one time me and a friend of mine went into one of those coffee houses where these pretentious fucks were always playing slow intense chess games so we brought a checker board and were slamming the pieces and yelling “king me!” every chance we got. we were going to bring in the game “Mouse Trap” and put it together and play that all loud instead but we couldn’t find that game anywhere. that would have been funnier. i also want to go into an arcade with my own air-hockey paddle. and it would have it’s own bag and it would have lightning bolts and streamers on it like a little kids bike but i’d be all serious like a was Fast Eddie coming to play Minnesota Fats. problem with an air-hockey paddle is you can’t put the theme from Rocky on the jukebox while you slowly assemble it in front of everyone.

i have a broken bone in my elbow that hurts when i use arm-rests. that means this arm will never rest. i wonder if it'll get bigger than the other one.

i’m going to eat some Sunday morning donuts then come back to post some more. i owe you lots and lots of words. i’ll tell you about my sister’s metal band "Blood Dumpster." my only problem with them is i kept calling them “Blood Buckets” all week leading up to the show and i got used to that name instead. i’ll try to put up some pictures, although Fotolog has been fucked up all week. my sister looks so cute surrounded by dudes in slaughterhouse jackets.

my cat just whimpered in it’s sleep. i think it has nightmares.

::: david - 12:34 PM [+] :::
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