Saturday, September 21, 2002

A word about christians.

I like finding sore, bruised spots on peoples' personalities where continuous prodding makes them squeal in annoyance. So in this respect, and following modern religious statistics, most people get completely offended when I talk about Jesus and his girthy black penis.

All heathenry aside I actually didn't have much against the church in general until Mulvey. For some reason the words "Burn in Hell you gothic freak" struck a chord in me that's been singing ever since. If only he were to walk swiftly into a wall of rusted spikes my life as a heretic would be all the more bearable.

I'm a Taoist. As you all know, I'm basically a pacifist-activist neo-yippie with a broad knowledge of antiquated prose. Mulvey, as you all know, is a racist, bigoted, blind nazi with his head so far up his proverbial ass he can't even tell when you're mocking him. His kind are the reason women still live in a persecuted social caste, the teaching of evolution has been banned from many southern states, and we continue to live in a state of ridiculous paranoia over the devil.

Christianity teaches tolerance, love, kinship and faith in nature. I think the institution has some wonderful moral lessons and many people understand to take the bible as metaphor. Mulvey, however, thinks the answer to the world's probelms lies in the smiting and genocide of evil liberals. Tolerance includes satanists, disbelievers, afghanis, and yes even women. I understand Mulvey does not represent the christian majority. So keep on blushing and yelling, it'll just raise your blood pressure and quicken the inevitable. You look so cute when your face puffs up like a tomato. As for me, there's a lot I could learn from the bible but It's hard to read when it's being thrust forcefully into your skull.

Did I mention I enjoy premarital sex with multiple, anonymous, Pagan partners in pools of goat blood?

Thursday, September 19, 2002

I've been inspired to start the Hairless Shivering Chiuahuas Who Need to be Kicked League. Now accepting donations.
School makes my head feel like an overweight desk clerk. Need to party, need to get out of the box, need to get out of the house. Let's throw a party, everyone. I'm sure you could all use the break so if anyone has ideas of how to go about booking a band or perhaps a locale?
So word on the street is that I'm a hardened spite-monger who hates everything. Hmm. The stuff I like is just so obscure (in terms of popular society, anyway) that no one's ever heard of it, therefore it's pointless to bring it up.

So to clear this up I've compiled the list.

Musical Tastes:
Tom Waits
Pink Floyd
The Beatles
Juno Reactor
Primal Scream
AC/DC (hehehe)
The Snaps
Tristrazea (that how you spell it?)
The Clash
The Ramones
(okay some of these are not so bizarre. in fact some of them define the mainstream. dammit.)

Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Phillip K. Dick
Good Omens by Terry Pratchett, Neil Gaiman

Lawrence of Arabia
Turkish Star Wars
The Royal Tenenbaums
Bottle Rocket
The Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge (anyone in my english class will be familiar with this one)
Donnie Darko
Malcom X
Roger and Me
Blade Runner

I can go on and on and on...basically if you show me something bizarre or innovative I'll usually play along. It's just that everything's so consumed by the same Mc Music, Mc Movie and hack bestsellers that I never get a chance to flex my tastes in public. So ha.

Wednesday, September 18, 2002

This post will self-destruct in thirty seconds.

Tuesday, September 17, 2002

Bring out the good wine, my weblog now has an audience of THREE!
Writing a daily weblog is like talking to yourself. I have don't know who the audience is so I can't address you in terms that I would if I were in person. I guess this is a reflection of how i talk in my head but since it never occurred to me until a minute ago it's probably quite a bit off.
Oh me oh my, so many new people now. What to think, what to do, help me make some sense out of it. All going round in a merry haze, so I guess relationships are inconsequential in the "bigger scheme." But help me make sense of all the new faces. A few of them fascinate me but I'm pissed at the games now and I don't feel like playing along. Show you to me.

Monday, September 16, 2002

"Pissing is how the devil enters childrens' loins," claims my spanish teacher Senora "my ass is clenched so tight you can hear it squeak" Trott. She issued her wild, hormone-frenzied class of crazed baboons one paper ticket granting us access to a toilet. The ticket can only be used once...every six weeks. When our impatient young bladders are ready to explode out of our orifices and we actually have to ask to pee in spanish. So by this point some poor wretch, wracked with pain and sweating profusely, has to stand cross-legged in front of the teacher's desk while she pretends not to understand him with a look of cruel, mocking confusion plastered across her face. In the rare occasion that, through a series of intricate hand motions and sound effects, they are able to gain access to the hallway they must then spend a minute signing themselves out on a sheet she keeps tucked away in a dark, hard-to-reach crevice. If you're gone for more than five minutes while your now diabetes-infected genetalia are emitting pre-decayed urine she calls security to make sure we're not engaging in "inappropriate signs of affection."

Why in the name of holy christ in heaven does she need to punish us for posessing bowels? I mean, what the hell went wrong in her life that she has to give herself delusions of granduer in that she can subject fourteen-year-olds to mild torture and humiliation?

Sunday, September 15, 2002

Just something I thought up:

Sweet & Sour Desk.
I should introduce Dungeons and Dragons into my more socialble clique just to see their way of life slowly degrade into seclusion and itchiness. Ah, the nights spent in a Dr. Pepper-induced haze trying to penetrate the goblin king's lair while Valentin engulfs whole boxes of caffeine-mints. I'm sure my parents appreciate my shift of mind.