Follow the s/hello brick road......

myflyingship.wordpress.com Huzzah!

To be..or not?

Is Blogging dead? Should I even bother starting up again? Does anyone read this, or is it only the Mad Spammer? PAUL WHERE ARE YOU?! Mae, what's up?

Gamorrah in the front, and Sodom in the rear

Better poker player.....Thomas or Judas?

The DaVinci Goad

Feeling better.

....

I play guitar. Or rather, I try.
There are times when I can't play songs I know correctly. I can't play songs I've "written". I can't even seem to practice scales, exercises....anything....
And I wonder if Beethoven ever took an axe to his piano, or if DaVinci ever stabbed the canvas with his brush and threw it all across the room in frustration.....or if it's just the curse of Simpleton.

To paraphrase Gump....I am not a smart ma-yun..but I know wut SUCK is.

...

I get the weirdest spam on this blog. There's an old post about when I jacked my knee up, that apparently is hugely popular with Russian folk. Mm...russian spam. I'm sure the can is red with a backwards P or some shit.

Hopefully, Twitter hasn't killed your attention span to the point of not being able to get past the first 150 characters, because there's some awe inspiring, "Thank goodness I got to read this before The Rapture occurred!" type crap I've just written. That is....if you're reading this before Saturday night. If you're reading this after.....well...um....I applaud your ability to get internet service in the Afterlife.

.....good for you.

Peace be with you, not peas.

Solo or so low?

I didn't used to understand addiction. My mother quit smoking a year or so ago, and she mentions, almost daily, how badly she wants a cigarette. How it's always there, this....wanting.

That's how it's been lately with me wanting to kill myself. More and more it feels like the obvious thing to do. I know it's not. That it makes no real sense, but that's not how depression works. It makes no sense. it is insanity. I'm crazy. Why would anyone want to kill themselves?

I have no one to talk to about it.

I'm sure there are people who know me that would talk to me about it. But, they wouldn't "get it", ya know? Other people, must i guess, don't give a shit at all. These would be the "Just go ahead and do it then, loser! Fuck you!". I get them. They've got their own bullshit to deal with in life,right? So, why WOULD they care about someone else's pain, trouble, shoe size, handedness..etc. They wouldn't.

I feel I'm rambling, babbling right now.

There goes the CRAZY I was talking about! Ha! (Runs finger up n down over lips) Bebulebuhleebu!

Awhile back, i mentioned that my girlfriend was in the hospital for a rare illness, and then her father passed away on the day she was being released from said hospital, and that he died right there in front of her. Well, the whole thing has just triggered this domino effect thing that just plain sucks. It doth. truly.

I don't indent.

SHe has suffered from depression ever since. See, he contracted(?) a type of pneumonia that one usually gets from being in the hospital for long periods of time, and that effected some rare thing he had, that then jacked his pancreas up....that chased the cat, that ate the mouse, that ate the cheese that killed the man that Jack built. She was in the ICU for 3wks. He was there every day. She blames herself for his death. If she hadn't gotten sick, he wouldn't have been there, he wouldn't have gotten sick....you can guess the rest. Because she thinks it's her fault he died, she hates herself. SHe tells me that she wished she had just died. SHe doesn't want to live. To be here. She hates life. Not the usual "I hate my life" crap, but life. LIFE. She HATES being alive. All of this crap makes her just hate herself. She thinks I should move on, go away, that I deserve somebody better...i don't know, tons of crap.

Awhile back I joined Facebook (resistance is futile!). I don't know what to write on there for the update crap, and certainly didn't want to be one of those people that puts every. damn. thing. they. do. on there. Jeff is eating a sandwich. Susan needs coffee. Hank has a tumor. You know what I mean. 500 updates a day about mundane shit. Aaaanyway, I decided I would try and be different, so I would post movie quotes and have my friends try to guess the movie. Sometimes, I would do a name that tune thing where you guess the song from the lyrics...whatever. Well, she would check my FB and see all these people knowing shit that she didn't know, and think that there was another reason she isn't "The One" for me. You know, because she hasn't seen Capricorn One or some stupid movie. Then, she stared seeing all these girls on there talking about hockey, movies, music, sandwiches...whatever. Bam! She then starts telling me that I'm LOOKING for someone else. I'm not. Well, Facebook then turned into something that just triggered bullshit and fights all the time. So, I deleted my account. THEN, she stars crying and telling me how she really DOES suck and why would I want to be with someone that makes you STOP talking to your friends...etc. So then NOT being on Facebook was causing problems. No matter what was going on, there was no correct thing to do. I was/am always in no win situations. It all goes back to her thinking she's this horrible person, and I'm just pretending that I'm happy with her.....it's just this non-stop, tiring thing.


So....I can't convince her, get her to believe that I love her and am happy with her. I'm not happy with how things ARE, but it's not HER ya know? It's all just making ME feel worthless and like a huge failure in life, the universe and everything. I've battled depression as long as I can rememebr. I was one meds in my teens, got better, stopped, was fine for awhile. I got down again, really down, had a nervous breakdown, got CBT therapy. It worked, for awhile anyway, but lately I just can't seem to talk my way out of all these negative thoughts. I think, no I know, that if I owned a gun, I would've ended it by now.

I feel worthless. Useless. Pointless. I AM just taking up space. There are so many great people. I'm not one. I don't even know what the hell I'm trying to say.

I don't know what I'm trying to say.

I just feel like I don't belong here. I just don't do things right. I can't do things......right. Whatever "right" is. I'm not good at being a son. Not a good friend. I failed at finding someone, getting married, having a life, which is what I thought we are SUPPOSED to do. Grow up, get a job, find someone, get married, live die. I grew up! Woohoo! I've had jobs! YES! The rest......I fail. I'm failing right now with my current girlfriend.

My depression lately, is not a "boo hoo, woe is me." thing. I'm not crying as I write this and feeling sorry for myself. It's that I really don't see WHY I'm here. There is no reason for me to be here. Other than going to work every day, doing my job, going home...lather rinse repeat....I do nothing.....useful? Maybe that's not the word. Reason?

I have no reason. No point. I am pointless. without point. lol

I provide nothing. I am not leaving it better than I found it. I should just step aside, and let someone else have the air, food, water, what have you...that I"m am using up. Al Gore should do a movie about me, and how I'm slowly killing part of the world. lol

There should be more to me. I have a hollowness. I don't know....I don't know how to put it. I"m not like everyone else. I'm not supposed to be here.

This post, like me, was pointless.

I like it fried

That last post has more Spam than Hawaii.

Wuddup Blog?

SO....

Back in August my girlfriend almost died from Stevens-Johnson Syndrome. Fun.

Then...

On the day she was going to be released from the hospital her father had some kind of attack right there in her room....21hrs later, he was dead. Sepsis, brought on by a rare pneumonia. Fun.

Now...

I'm a temp at the craphole I used to work at, because nobody else seems to want to hire me.

Woo.

Hoo.

Believe it or not, life is pretty good.

FOR NOW.....(Dun Dun DUUUUUUNNNNN!)

Meh.

"Fear & Loathing in Denver" or "The Thompson is a Lonely Hunter"

Hello.

Due to a threatening email from "California Kay", I am "back" writing. Sorta. I think.

Why now?

I don't know.

Perhaps it's because, even though I don't really know Kay (Does anyone REALLY know anyone?), I like her. I dont like many people, and yet I like lots of people. I'm very deep that way (or at least that's what I keep telling myself), I have a love/hate relationship with the human race. Although, most of the time I lean waaaaaaay towards the hate. Aaaaanyway, Kay had(?) a nasty bout of this thing called Cancer. You might have heard of it. She seems much better now. I'd like to think that my dumbass humor and whatever it is that makes some people like me helped in keeping her spirit up (or at least that's what I keep telling myself). So, I guess in a way, I feel I owe her. I mean, if with all the crap she's been through, she still is interested in what I have to say...took the time to track my MySpace page down and write a threatening email....I gotta do it, right?

Besides, she's tiny, cusses like a sailor and kinda scares me. I mean, if a big, fat, angry bitch came at me all pissed of and crazay, I'd probably slap that bitch down to save my life, but a teeny tiny, angry lil broad? I'd be like the comical elephant terrified of the little mouse.

Perhaps, it's because I just felt like it.

Perhaps, it's "The Voices" making me do it.

I say we blame that lil fuzzy headed garden pixie, Kay.

So, here we is....

You're prolly axin yourself (Note to new readers, if any, I don't really spelled that crappy. I "act" stupid to hide just how smart I am. ....ar at least that's what I keep tellingf myself)...you're prolly axin "What's J been up too?".

No?

Well, lets just act as if...

What have I been up too?

Nuthin.

Not a goddamn thing. I quit my job in July, which seemed to be RIGHT before the economy went totally in the shitter, and I took a 4-5 month vacation. I did nothing. I didn't even get as fat as I thought I would. Nuthin, Main, I dids nuthin.
The last couple months I've been looking for a job, and since I'm picky, lazy and picky, I'm not having much luck. Sure, the gas station down the street is hiring, and Arby's needs people, but that aint for me. I'm your typical lazy, spoilt American, some jobs are below me.....or at least that's what I kee.....meh, let's end that joke now, k? It's old like Ross Peroit's pecker. Whoever that is (I know; but he's old and dropped off, dig?).

So, um, where was I? Ah yes, nothing. I'm a pretty good saver, and don't have many bills, so I've been doing alright financially, but I'm running out of dough. I better find something fast.

What else? Hm....I watched a documentary called "Heavy Metal Baghdad" today. It's about this metal band in Iraq and all the bullshit they have to deal with. For instance, they can't grow long hair because that might give someone cause to kill them. The place they practiced got blown to shit by a missle along with their gear. They have to be back home by 6 in the evening because the psychos come out at night and all Hell breaks loose. Kidnappings, killing, robbery....shit, you name it. Gunfire and shit blowing up constantly, day and night, everybody paranoid and stressed out, all the time....it's both and uplifting story and a depressing story. Fuck governments and greedy nutjobs and assholes who try and twist religion into hate and people who WANT chaos. Fuck all those guys. Nobody should have to live like these people have to in the middle east and other wartorn choatic parts of our planet. Fuck all the Chaos-mongers who perpetuate all this crap. I hope they all drop dead tomorrow and leave all us folk who just want to live and love and laugh.

Ok, I'll quit bitching.

FOR NOW! (Dun dun-dun)

Seen the movie Role Models? I hardly ever, EVER laugh outloud, but I did when I saw it in the theater. I just bought it. That's some funny shit. Goodhearted, too. I recco...recomm...you should watch it.

Ok, so that's my update....
I'm stupid
I'm lazy
I'm kinda fat
and I'm almost broke

Oh, and I hate a large portion of the human race.

Good times....good times.....

Peas out, Bloggo's.


P.S. The title was inspired by what's on the TV in the background. I watch Biography on A&E whilst I'm being lazy and fat and hating and stupid and lazy.

The End

I did it myyyyyyy waaaaaayyyyy!

Goodnight, everybody!

X!

Merry Christmas!

God (or Elvis) bless us, everyone!

I hope you got everything you wanted.
....and by "everything you wanted" I mean laid.

....and maybe The Dark Knight on dvd.

Nuthin' Sweet About ME

Hi all! I live! Sure, I had Salmonella for awhile, and let me tell ya, that SUCKS, but I'm still alive and kicking.
....Well, ok, not kicking, but alive.

Today, I've had Gabriella Climi's "Sweet about me" stuck in my head for no apparent reason. I mean, I haven't heard this song in MONTHS, so I don't know why I was humming it. Well (I sure write the word well a lot), I know why I'm humming it, I dont' know the words.
...and I can't sing.

Anyhoo..

I diecided I'd pop onto Youtube and give it a listen again and while I found IT, I also found some cute little(Ok, 21 isn't little) french girl who I think sings it better. Maybe better isn't right. Maybe I just like her voice better. *shrug* Let me know what you think.
Original:


Gexalex (Youtube name) version:

Yeah, I know the sound quality isn't all that good on the second one, but still. Good stuff.

You're welcome.

What else have I been up too? Well (there it is again!), I've been UNsuccessfully trying to find a job. I thankfully cleared out an IRA I had JUST before the bank I had my money in went to Hell in a handbasket a few months ago, so I have some money, but I better find something in the next couple months or I am quite screwed. Quite.

I've been learning some new songs. Since I have all this free time, I've been playing guitar again after a few years of barely picking on up.

Here's one I've been jamming today, although not quite up to speed. Quite.
Killing Floor by The Jimi Hendrix Experience.


I always say the full band name when I talk about the music because I think a lot of people forget just how awesome the WHOLE band was. Jimi, Noel Redding on bass and Mitch Mitchell on drums. Awesome. Quite.

I'l type atcha later. Hope you're well.

Quite.

So....um..I bought a guitar today.

Betcha can't guess which one.

Parrot, Ox and Contra Diction

I've been reading up (litterally, I was laying on my back) on Dada. Dadaism. I get it, I think (therefore I am), but it's confusing and I believe it's meant to be. It's art that's supposed to be anti-art or rather a way of saying that art, any art is not greater than anything else, art or otherwise. I think. Anyhoo....

When I read this kind of crap (See, I'm embracing Dada already!) my dormant (doormat?) brain tries to work and shoots off in a billion (say it Carl Sagan style) different...um....neuron...flashy...directions...n'stuff.

It got me thinking, and I know Warhol said this with his soupcan painting (and others before that weird little soulsucking elf and his Carol Channing hairdo), but isn't a toilet just as much a work of art as the Mona Lisa? No? Didn't someone think it up, slave over the design of it, every curve, straight line, thickness, depth....practical function, discarding what was not needed, having to do without some cosmetic beautiful thing that might be too much (or not enough) for what it is?
If a God made you, every flower, every butterfly, every color of the rainbow..didn't this God also make every rock? Dirt? Slime? Then if man makes a toilet, isn't he just as much one with God in that moment as Davinci was at any moment when he created? How about you or I? Isn't our "art" just as beautiful or relevant as all that hangs in any museum?

"Well, I'm not very good." In comparison to who (whom?)? Jackson "let me flick some paint and become genius" Pollack? Isn't all the art on every refridgerator in this world just as good or appreciated as all in the Louvre? What if one day we cleaned house and threw all of it out? Would all say "Fuck it, we'll never be able to replace all that or do better"? No, because if that were the case why would anyone anywhere be creating anything? We all make art and yet don't. Your baloney sandwich might make me weep at it's sheer luncheon meat perfection, while my rambly blogpost might make you scratch your head and say "what...the...". There's a toilet in every house, but not a Mona Lisa. Is it less a work of art because you shit in it, or possibly more?

I'm not sure what I'm trying to say, but I'm having a decent time trying to say it.

Another thing...related or not:

Say you hated green (g'head, say it), the color not the environmental movement. You hate green and you spend every available extra bit of your day (Look, blatant lack of commas!) eliminating green from your sight. No green in the house. No lawn, just rocks. High fences to block your view of neighborly greenage. You hate green....should green be capitalized here? Green. You hate Green. Green is an odd looking word isn't it? I digress...

You hate green. Loathe it. Well, what are you without green? Hasn't green become your life? Your reason for existing is to void the green. What if you somehow got rid of it all, found a "cure" for green? Do you now go on with your life or do you have to get rid of green-ish things too? No more blue-green? Do you get rid of blue and yellow now too, due to possible conspiring to make green? At what point do you become one with the thing you want nothing of? Aren't you forever locked in eachothers(two words?) embrace?
I ask these questions because I cannot fathom how so called "Non-conformists" can't see that there is no possible way to NOT conform to something.
For instance, I recall being a young Punk/New Wave skater kid. I rattled off all the crap about Anarchy....being yourself....not conforming to what society does, thinks, blah blah blah.
Well, I can recall my epiphany on conformity. I was 15. I had the silly haircut, wore all black attire, had my leather jacket (Gabba gabba hey)....and I'm sitting in the corner of this teen club whilst this girl, Courtney, rattled on and on to this preppy college boy doing a paper on Punk (or trying to nail little Goth hotties, who knows...) about how we're all anti this and anti that and we're our own free thinking individuals who do our own thing yaddity blah bleeger blah....
Meanwhile, I'm getting this in one ear and looking around the room.
Group of Skinheads*? Check
Group of guys and girls who all look like The Cure? Check.
20 or so Mohawks? Check.
Flock of Seagulls/long bangs folk (my jackass self included)? Check.
Geebus on toast! WE ALL FUCKING LOOK THE SAME! I had seen the enemy (enema?), and it was us! I felt stupid. Worse, I was completely surrounded by idiots. I'd heard the "We're not like everybody else!" line from all of them. This was no new movement, radical ideal, it was crap. "Non-comformity has a conformity all it's own" is right. I'd allowed myself to dupe m'self. Dumbass. I became the Abyss (good movie, not what I mean. Screw you, Neitzche!) what with all my staring.

Again, don't know what I mean, but it's scary how I can ramble on like this when I don't do drugs and haven't had a beer in days, huh?

Methinks my attempt at depth has been wasted, much like all the time you lost reading this.

"I didn't mean to take up all your sweet time. I'll give it right back, one of these days." - Voodoo Chile/Jimi Hendrix

My house smeels like lemons and my girlfriend snores quite softly.

Smooches.

*I cut the Skinheads some slack, because they know they're conforming. The whole point of joining is to conform, be the same. Still though, there's anti-establishment bullshit involved, and I'm not even talking about the Nazi Skinheads that make all Skinheads look bad.

The Body Politic

Personally, I believe that both parties suck. Neither does anything but point fingers at the other party and say "Look how bad those guys are over there!". Democrats are anti-Republican. Republicans are anti-Democrat. Truthfully, you could go into Washington D.C. today with the host from Survivor and hand out two different colored headbands telling them that we're making two new "tribes", mix them all up and set them back down on opposite sides of the room, hall, building, city..whatever, and business would go on as usual. It's all about making the other guys look bad and making as much money for themselves as possible. If you trully think that any of those cats in D.C. give a shit about the everyman and his/her life, you need your head examined.


I guess what I'm trying to say is....

I'd bang Sarah Palin.

Nobody can eat 50 eggs

Actor Paul Newman has died.

Our world just lost a whole bunch of coolness.

Tone

What an odd looking word.

I wish there were a way to acurately convey tone on here. Should one, and by one I mean me, that is I, the person blogging, slap a ton of those damn emoticons before or after every sentence or paragraph?

It rained today :(
:/ I think I shouldn't have eaten that bean dip I found in the back of the fridge :/
Why don't you go phuc yerself! :)
Why DON'T you go phuc yerself? :*

Some have read my crap for years(!), yes years(!). Not here mind you, but an old blog. Some remember the funny stuff, some the whiney, and some the bitchy. Not to mention the ecessive use of commas and poor grammar.

....or the lack of an X in the word excessive.

What I'm getting at is that no matter how I may write something, that is, how I mean it, you're (not your) just going to assign a tone to it however you want, right?
What if I don't know how I feel? Would that have any effect whatsoever on how you read this? I mean, as long as you didn't know that I didn't know how I felt about whatever.

Hm....

Let's proceed (another odd looking word that I probably spelled wrong.).

Have you seen Fight Club? Ya know that part where Ed Norton beats the snot out of the pretty boy and when Brad Pitt asks him what that was all about he says something like "I wanted to destroy something beautiful."?

I did that.

Well, I didn't beat the snot out of anybody and I didn't want to destroy something beautiful, I just did. I did; and as much as I'd like to fix it I feel like I don't deserve it anyway. Phuc me, right? I fucked it up. I did my damndest to go about shit in the worst possible manner, or that's how it seems anway. Phuc me. Fuck. Me. I don't deserve it. What emoticon should I use here.....? :l? :\? Is there a blank stare one?

Next up.....

I had a slight plan. I went after a dream. I got fucked out of a few thousand dollars (fucked myself out of a few thou?).

On we go...

I've been avoiding pretty much everyone on earth. I'd be no fun to be around. That is assuming I ever was.
I feel like a huge.....void? No. Gap? Hm...I'm a.....bleh. Yes. I am Bleh incarnate. I am become Bleh.

I miss.

I'm missing....something.
I'm missing something in the details or something in ME.
Perhaps I'm missing a bit of butter to make my bitter batter better.
Maybe I missed an episode, got up to go to the bathroom and missed a key part of the plot.
Missed my plane, train or automobile.
Misplaced my keys?

I'm missing something.
I'm MISSING something.
I'm missing some thing.

Puzzle without a piece.
Puzzled without peace.

I feel a part of my has always been hollow. Head. Heart. Soul. The hollow just moves from one location to the next and it's wanderlust is driving me batty.

I miss. Miss out(?).

Miss.

Out.
(Insert appropriate emoticon)

the cake is a lie

"If wishes were horses, beggars would ride." - Gramma

Blue Cheese

I dreamt that Brett Favre was traded to the Raiders and that they were set to play the Eagles in the Superbowl.

How odd would THAT be?

Hello Blogness my ol' fren

....

hm...

Ya know, I actually have stuff going on, big things happening, major shake up/changes....and I STILL don't seem to have the ability/need/whatever, to write about it. I am officially...dull.

GAH!

I'm mayonaise.
I am white bread.
I am bland.

Boring.

Who wants to read about boring? Geebus, you prolly gots tons of boring laying around the house! You don't need MY boring, do ya? Wait....is it one of those "Gee, and I thought MY life sucked" kind of things? You know, you read about my life and then you don't feel so bad about yours? "Man, I thought my life was dull and couldn't carry a tune to save my life, but THIS GUY....thank The Great Eyeball(tm) in the sky I'm not THAT bad off.".

If so, if I am doing you good, providing a service (Bom chika-bowm-bowm..), then I shall write about my boring.

Let the boring commence!

.....just not right now.

Well...the boring is constant, I just mean I'm not gonna write about it just yet.

(cough)

Later skater.

Dear God,

:ppppppppppppppp~

Sincerely,

J.