i just got up from switching my laundry to find that yoda has destroyed yet another set of nice headphones.
now, i have to go to walgreens to buy some new ones. again. fucking cats.
Vycious's Journal
My Podcast Link
12/06/2006 18:48 #37214
GAH!Category: yoda
11/29/2006 21:10 #37213
worse... or better?Category: worse or better?
open rejection, or feigned interest?
oh yeah, and I've been told im getting promoted.
oh yeah, and I've been told im getting promoted.
11/21/2006 16:56 #37212
How to settle a grudge, the vycious way.having problems with fellow (e:strip)pers?! winter grays got you down? cabin fever making you want to eat your neighbor? well, (e:vycious) has the solution for YOU! just follow these easy to... er, follow, instructions and you too can become a expeditious mitigator of disputes over ever-so-important issues such as:
1. testosteroned hoopla!
2. estrogened ballyhooing!
3. pheremonal mis-appropriation!
how is this possible?!
first. both parties must gather a good 5-10 friends each to a large, relatively non-cluttered region. enknot can back me up on this by endorsing the local ymca with his dodge-ball league.
second. both parties involved in dispute must drink, in advance and under supervision by chosen individual of opposed party, a gallon of water an hour for 3 hours. conflicted parties may urinate for first hour, only.
thirdly. parties assemble friends around them as a circle in chosen area, numbering as one party, then other, around entire circle- so to keep the cirle unbiased.
finally. tickle-death-match, thunderdrome style. done in sections of 15 minutes, with drinking breaks between. first to urinate loses. winner leaves with dry pants, and the whole of the pissing contest will have run its course, sans wasted time.
1. testosteroned hoopla!
2. estrogened ballyhooing!
3. pheremonal mis-appropriation!
how is this possible?!
first. both parties must gather a good 5-10 friends each to a large, relatively non-cluttered region. enknot can back me up on this by endorsing the local ymca with his dodge-ball league.
second. both parties involved in dispute must drink, in advance and under supervision by chosen individual of opposed party, a gallon of water an hour for 3 hours. conflicted parties may urinate for first hour, only.
thirdly. parties assemble friends around them as a circle in chosen area, numbering as one party, then other, around entire circle- so to keep the cirle unbiased.
finally. tickle-death-match, thunderdrome style. done in sections of 15 minutes, with drinking breaks between. first to urinate loses. winner leaves with dry pants, and the whole of the pissing contest will have run its course, sans wasted time.
mrmike - 11/21/06 22:49
Two dorks enter, one dork leaves.......
Two dorks enter, one dork leaves.......
metalpeter - 11/21/06 19:31
1 Gallon of water in an hour. There is no way I could put away that much water in that amount of time even if it was ice cold and then do it two more times, that is insane.
1 Gallon of water in an hour. There is no way I could put away that much water in that amount of time even if it was ice cold and then do it two more times, that is insane.
jasoninbuffalo - 11/21/06 17:30
ha....I am all for the thunderdome style as long as I can have a midget on my shoulders too.....
ha....I am all for the thunderdome style as long as I can have a midget on my shoulders too.....
11/15/2006 22:08 #37211
birthday of curse...had to go to Albany today. on the way home, found myself staring at a Denny's in Hartford in front of the thruway.
funny the things we try to forget.
in 96, ten years ago, i was sitting in that very place, eating hot fudge cake sundaes (you know, the ones they used to sell, before they switched to brownies?) ...smothered in hot fudge. it was late, about midnight-ish, and roughly forty miles from where we were going to college.
when i say *we* i am not referring to the royal we. it was with a woman i just so happened to be secretly in love with who i called Tigger, for her orange hair and exuberant spirit.
..heather..
a year later it would be bleached and replaced with blue, complimenting her soft hues, but hardening her heart. we hung out every day between Denny's and then, and it all hit me at once again as i passed...
its three days to my birthday, and im brought to remember now, how my mother swore till her dying day that she wanted one of those hot fudge cake sundaes, along with a carton of smokes, in her coffin.
pan back one year. about this time, all i can say is dural av fistula and gates.
go back another year. in three days, i would find out my mother had cancer. i didn't even see her on that day: 'i need a day off', and took liberties with the selfishness of my birthday. i promised her i would come to see her, but she was hardly awake anymore. i never saw her again. she died the day following.
funerals are expensive. my father, after getting the most inexpensive casket, a family plot, and services- had no money for an entire carton. besides, she died from lung failure, anyways. so... i got her that sundae. even put it in a Tupperware container so she could have it at her leisure. don't think the funeral director believed my asking for its allowance, until i brought it in and saw her stifle a laugh. suppose there is some humor in death. even as a mortician.
that laugh carried me through the rest of the day. it was just the way my mother affected people. you had no choice but to remember her. to stare a gasp at the absurdity of her. there was never middle ground- love her or hate her.
i was an asshole to her the entire time she was dying. i kept calling her a jackass. i just wanted her to be angry, so she would stop being so weak. she was always at her strongest when angry. i realize now how weak i was. i promised i would be there for her on my birthday. the day before she died. the last day she had. and i squandered it. every promise i made to her before she died i could not sustain. every one. what i would give to get ten years back.
so i pulled over and had myself a good cry. somewhere on the thruway between utica and syracuse, in the company van. gods, i fucking hate my birthday.
funny the things we try to forget.
in 96, ten years ago, i was sitting in that very place, eating hot fudge cake sundaes (you know, the ones they used to sell, before they switched to brownies?) ...smothered in hot fudge. it was late, about midnight-ish, and roughly forty miles from where we were going to college.
when i say *we* i am not referring to the royal we. it was with a woman i just so happened to be secretly in love with who i called Tigger, for her orange hair and exuberant spirit.
..heather..
a year later it would be bleached and replaced with blue, complimenting her soft hues, but hardening her heart. we hung out every day between Denny's and then, and it all hit me at once again as i passed...
its three days to my birthday, and im brought to remember now, how my mother swore till her dying day that she wanted one of those hot fudge cake sundaes, along with a carton of smokes, in her coffin.
pan back one year. about this time, all i can say is dural av fistula and gates.
go back another year. in three days, i would find out my mother had cancer. i didn't even see her on that day: 'i need a day off', and took liberties with the selfishness of my birthday. i promised her i would come to see her, but she was hardly awake anymore. i never saw her again. she died the day following.
funerals are expensive. my father, after getting the most inexpensive casket, a family plot, and services- had no money for an entire carton. besides, she died from lung failure, anyways. so... i got her that sundae. even put it in a Tupperware container so she could have it at her leisure. don't think the funeral director believed my asking for its allowance, until i brought it in and saw her stifle a laugh. suppose there is some humor in death. even as a mortician.
that laugh carried me through the rest of the day. it was just the way my mother affected people. you had no choice but to remember her. to stare a gasp at the absurdity of her. there was never middle ground- love her or hate her.
i was an asshole to her the entire time she was dying. i kept calling her a jackass. i just wanted her to be angry, so she would stop being so weak. she was always at her strongest when angry. i realize now how weak i was. i promised i would be there for her on my birthday. the day before she died. the last day she had. and i squandered it. every promise i made to her before she died i could not sustain. every one. what i would give to get ten years back.
so i pulled over and had myself a good cry. somewhere on the thruway between utica and syracuse, in the company van. gods, i fucking hate my birthday.
vycious - 11/16/06 18:07
i appreciate your kind words, but as far as i have ever noticed- life only moves forward. good point about the lack of her *remembering*. suppose she does not do much of anything, at this point, however. its more regret than anything. sure, she is dead and gone. some memories die harder than the ones who helped make them.
i appreciate your kind words, but as far as i have ever noticed- life only moves forward. good point about the lack of her *remembering*. suppose she does not do much of anything, at this point, however. its more regret than anything. sure, she is dead and gone. some memories die harder than the ones who helped make them.
twisted - 11/15/06 23:15
I'm so sorry. That sucks. Cosmic connections can boggle the mind.
Remember this, though. Your mother spent way more of your birthdays happily -- including your first birthday. One you'll never remember, but she never forgot.
On the flip side: Your "cursed" birthday was barely a memory for your Mom. Don't let it be a dominant lifelong memory for you.
Life stretches out both ways. Hold onto and celebrate the positive.
I'm so sorry. That sucks. Cosmic connections can boggle the mind.
Remember this, though. Your mother spent way more of your birthdays happily -- including your first birthday. One you'll never remember, but she never forgot.
On the flip side: Your "cursed" birthday was barely a memory for your Mom. Don't let it be a dominant lifelong memory for you.
Life stretches out both ways. Hold onto and celebrate the positive.
10/15/2006 21:05 #37210
adventures in one dimention...Category: bounderies
blessed are the single minded, for they know nothing of their limits.
recently, i have been comparing my (would-be) love life to that of a Möbius strip. being one-dimensional, it is all inclusive and rather limited- although infinite, paradoxically. it spans within its boarders, trailing endlessly. to exist in one dimensional space would allow travel to any time or location.
and here i am. more correctly, we are. i look to the forward me; and i, we, they look back at who i was, am, and shall be. side by side we sit. we always have. the many things outside this space move around the boarders coalescing and forming, but never permeating or sublimating. the actions of the past/present/future have all been within me, change being something matrons whisper to three dimensional offspring. all within me...
eyes shut, the expanse of my will fills the void. consciousness cascading and parsing itself through me, i feel so endless and open. eyes closed- self reigns and the hammer of subjective paradigm holds no sway. its here that my *self* resides, in this limitless/contradictory vessel, free of the simple carbon strands that bind me to that place which will never be real enough.
recently, i have been comparing my (would-be) love life to that of a Möbius strip. being one-dimensional, it is all inclusive and rather limited- although infinite, paradoxically. it spans within its boarders, trailing endlessly. to exist in one dimensional space would allow travel to any time or location.
and here i am. more correctly, we are. i look to the forward me; and i, we, they look back at who i was, am, and shall be. side by side we sit. we always have. the many things outside this space move around the boarders coalescing and forming, but never permeating or sublimating. the actions of the past/present/future have all been within me, change being something matrons whisper to three dimensional offspring. all within me...
eyes shut, the expanse of my will fills the void. consciousness cascading and parsing itself through me, i feel so endless and open. eyes closed- self reigns and the hammer of subjective paradigm holds no sway. its here that my *self* resides, in this limitless/contradictory vessel, free of the simple carbon strands that bind me to that place which will never be real enough.
Yeah I agree too. Sure it hurts/sucks to be rejected, but I think it's infinitely preferable to know, than to wonder/agonize.
open rejection dude....if you are talking about a chick....the worse thing in the world is to waste time and energy on a girl who you think likes you when in all reality she is just bored or killing time. I prefer to get the rejection out of the way early, kind of like my mother did to me right after I was born.
I concur
Open rejection, absolutely, 100%.
Its better to know bad news than to not know, stew about it, wonder, hope, etc. Its not the easiest way but its the best way.