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so i'm sitting here in the school computer lab now, we just finished our renal final…. That was ok i suppose, probably the only test i've actually studied for all this year. You know last year i used to get up and go to school usually between 1 and 3 in the morning every day, i was enrolled in 23 semester credits the second semester, and worked an average of 30-35 hours/week. Most people never believe me when i used to tell them that, nor the semester before when i had 22 credits and had 3 jobs, IMHO most people are just too fucking lazy to actually understand. So as you know this year has been very much different, i've been enrolled in about ½ the credit load and have been working slightly less, especially this past month and a half or so... anyway the point being that i seriously function best after getting up between 1 and 4 in the morning. Without a doubt this is the best time of the day, no one's around anywhere: on the roads, in the bathrooms, on the sidewalks. It allows me to be alone with my thoughts, uninterrupted by dip-shit drivers, people on the sidewalks or idiots yelling at each other in the hallways. In this respect today's been much of a flashback to my prior years when this 'alone-time' was the norm, and it feels really good to have been up for 9 hours already when it's not even 10:00 yet.

not too much has been happening this past week since i've written last. A lot of stupid shit to take care of last week, makes the time just fly though, much faster than it's gone this entire year, also i worked practically full-time this last week which also kept me busy. i'm thinking of heading down to Minneapolis this weekend, but am still contemplating the ultimate decision. Haven't done any cooking, going out, nor much of anything that involves any sort of interpersonal contact, so i can't report any wild experiences or stupid things anyone i know have gotten themselves into...

so darthmullet's starting to really hate his job, i don't blame him: working construction and doing absolutely nothing to improve your future situation would absolutely fucking suck ass in my opinion. But for his particular situation i don't know that he'd succeed in school either, he's not focused enough to ever do it. Mostly he's just focusing all of his mental energy on making his relationship with Beth work, which i naturally have reservations about, not that she's my girlfriend or anything, so really i shouldn't give a shit one way or the other, but from an outsider's perspective i just think that neither of them really have anything to offer the other... but of course i have such a pessimistic and cynical view of relationships (well, everything really, but relationships especially) that my opinion shouldn't count for anything in this respect, and i think i look for totally different things in people, so really, who am i to say? But anyway, i guess the main point being that he needs to focus on school if he's ever going to excel in it. Some people are able to do well in school as a peripheral activity, however darthmullet is not one of these people. Personally i think that until school comes first (ie before beth) he will never do well enough to justify doing it at all.... from my limited contact with them it feels like there's a lot of tension between them right now, so who knows if shit's on the rocks or what the deal is. Beth went home to SD this past weekend, and apparently she's going to be gone next weekend as well, so i'm not sure if she's looking for some family values in a 'time of hardship' or what the deal is, but i know family isn't anything i would ever turn to if i wanted to make decisions regarding my own life... but in any event it may mean that darthmullet will be in Minneapolis next weekend, possibly UAIOE/Anne and homeslice as well... we'll see but it could/should be very cool. Even though the U people have finals the following week though...

anyway not overly insightful at the moment, but i have time to kill

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writing from Minneapolis…
in the past, in the past. So honestly the half past month or so has been an absolute fucking blur, one of those deals where i know what happened, i just have no fucking idea how it happened, any details surrounding the happening, nor remember actually doing it-only that because of where i am at the moment: it must have been done.

First and foremost: school's done for the year, about fucking time is my only comment on that, the last couple of weeks was the only time i can seem to remember doing anything at all that entire year, what a crock of shit, if NDSU ever asks me for any money after I've graduated, well, let's just say that i won't be giving them any. I've decided long ago that i will not be attending the hooding ceremony for my pharm-doc class next year, which apparently is really a rare occasion-which doesn't make sense to me given the general level of disenfranchisement with this particular institution. But then again a lot of people do it because of familial obligations, or some of them actually go because they like NDSU and are proud to have lost 6 years of their lives in Fargo. i fit neither category.

so as a departing shot, even though i will not be 100% departed until 1 year from now, i would like to take a moment to express a big 'fuck you' to NDSU, the North Dakota State College of Pharmacy, the oppressed city of Fargo located in the barren and fruitless North Dakota (ND). Although farmland abounds in every square inch of this state, and it is referred to as 'fertile' i would have to express the viewpoint that it is unfertile, and inhospitable to the growth, progress, or development of its peoples; an overly-conservative authoritarian culture clinging to the dogma of the 19th century and firmly believing that the era of sustenance existence and family farms can be immortalized via ignorance. There are a billion things i hate about my dealings with the institutions of my college, university, city and state, and i'll save the bitching for some other time. But for now i'll just say that of all the good things that I've experienced in the past 5 years none of them were fostered by attending this particular institution, and while I've made progress it is due solely to individual color, a color that's been tarnished by the opportunity cost of attending NDSU. Don't get me wrong, i like many of the people I've met at NDSU, etc. etc. but my overall feeling is one of angst, so there you have it: fuck you.

so as i sit in this old office-chair in the Mankey Village basement typing my thoughts into a dual-screen computer listening to old-school nails tracks i cannot help but be reminded of our brief excursion to Gastov's (Gastof's, Gasthof's or however you fucking spell it, one of these days i'm gonna actually fucking look it up) by the foul smell of burned tobacco leaves waifing from my victimized shirt... So Heed graduated this week from St. Cloud State University (MN) with a mass comm-related major of some kind. Originally Mandy and i were going to go as a couple to a celebratory party for her honor, but Mandy got stuck in family affairs up north in Podunk country, and Heed's 'party' ended up being at Gastov's instead of wherever else it was going to be. Which was actually really fucking cool for me because it was a lot more of just showing up whenever i felt like it as opposed to meeting a bunch of people i don't know at some specific time and being obligated to hang out for X amount of hours, or whatever. i was informed that they would be meeting that at about 2100 and hanging out there all night so scheides, Anna (his date), reddog, SMEAT!, mess, tizmo, and myself all trekked to Gastov's at about 2200. when we got there Heed and all of her compadres were already just fucking trashed hardcore, we tipped a few bottoms for about 45 minutes or so, and took off (I didn't drink much as i still feel shitty for yesterday, but maybe more on that later)… but here's the ass-shitty part of the story (humanity's just fucked IMNSHO):

total aside::::::::::::::}I used to have a huge crush on Heed, it was about 25% me being lonely, 74% everyone has a highschool crush of somekind, and 1% me being just retarted. The fact that i had this crush has no bearing whatsoever on the story, but just to provide as sort of a disclaimer or 'holisticizer' or whathaveyou so that no one accuses me later of having conflict-of interests or subversive tactics by me not saying this….
Now that I've gotten that shit out of the way: as you already know Scheides spent about 8 months in Scotland beginning in about the 3rd trimester of summer last year. Before he left he and Heed started hanging out (or 'seeing each other' or however the hell you want to say it), maybe for a couple of weeks or so. Nothing got so much started that it could/would be considered set in stone nor official, he got on a plane traveling at 600 mph, flew all night, and spent the next 8 months of his life Heedless. She actually visited him at one point in Europe, but AFAIK nothing 'happened.' Scheides comes back in march (2 months ago) and Heed more or less expects herself and scheides to hook up. Hooking up doesn't happen, and she's been upset ever since, which isn't totally ununderstandable (is that a word?), i mean if i were a chic I'd really dig scheides hardcore, but the point being that they were never 'together,' at least according to my source, who coincidently wasn't the one that spent the night crying at gastov's in a drunkenly wretched state, which may be a confounder, but I'd believe a longstanding guy friend well before I'd ever believe a longstanding girl friend that i used to have a huge crush on (generally that's a red flag…). So Heed's going to read this and say 'what the hell right does he have to write any of this…" (and really for all i know she was crying because of something else…) but i guess the entire point of this long and drawn-out paragraph was simply to say that things suck when people like each other, which seems grossly counter-intuitive, but it seems to be the way things work… but witnessing this event kind of made me come to a pseudorealization about myself, and thus leads me to the thought of this moement…

self-revelation of the unenlightened:
am i capable of pain? Seeing Heed utterly broken over scheides (presumably) brought back a deep pang of sympathy… a floating collage of every time I'd ever felt the way she did passed before my frontal lobe as i thought. That feeling of utter ruin at the hands of another's whim, and the slow obsession so entwined with a feeling long-tainted by a bent mind over countless moments. The last time I've truly felt like that was when i was a senior in high school, and Cheryl and i had broken up. This was perhaps my most head-over-heals, illogical relationship. i never knew why I liked her, nor why she liked me. We had no plans for any sort of future, nor did we care much about the immediate confounders of the moment, it just was, and we just were, and it was very very good. Needless to say i did feel like this again less than 2 years ago after my mother passed away. It's interesting to analyze: this was a much deeper, less selfish, yet less hopeless sadness. In all of my prior years I'd always thought that the loss of a loved one would feel like the world was ending, or the sky was falling. When my mother died it was nothing of the sort, just a slow & gnawing pang of loneliness & emptiness that does not subside nor does its bite grow less chill with the passage of time… sure my perception of this feeling waxes and wanes, but it's there, and i always know it. Sometimes i cry, not because of any conscious thought, or logical reason for being sad, in my Fergus house at night i won't hear her faulty knees, which i have inherited, crack in the dark stillness as she visits the restroom while i sit in the living room reading, or I think about having kids one day for which i cannot provide a dear grandmother, or a million other thoughts. i don't think about them much, but they're always there, and sometimes i will just cry without even thinking about them. i guess it's somewhat appropriate that i write this on, what is now, mother's day, when we are inundated with reminders to appreciate something that may only be appreciated by its absence in my life. i also visited her grave on the way to Minneapolis the last time I'd visited her headstone was last summer coincidentily exactly 1 year from her death, and i wrote 365.2422 as i shed tears upon the piece of scratchpaper, bleeding my penned lines… i started seeing choirgirl31 a couple of months after mother had passed on, the two of us were, much like heed & scheides, never 'going out' but it felt very, very bad for me when we 'broke up' to this day however, I think about 85% of this feeling bad episode was actually a misplaced sadness for my mother. They say relationships are a bad thing to become involved if one is in a position of vulnerability, it's probably fair to say that i was vulnerable during my time with choirgirl31, and as a result it was not a fair position for either choirgirl31 or myself to be in. this i think is what i regret most about my relationship with her: i like her so much as a person, yet i betrayed her by lacking the inner sight i should have had to prevent myself from becoming involved with anyone during that time. i allowed myself to foster an unfair position. Maybe some people are inherently vulnerable at all times, should they never 'be with' anyone?- while others seem impervious to the comings and goings of the opposite sex, should they 'be with' anyone either? When it comes to relationships i generally just feel disassociated from the entire idea. Sure i oft muse about what my life would be like if i were with someone i cared about, but the perimeter of caring is as much a dream as the person to care about. i just feel like i either don't care enough to become emotionally involved, or i can't care enough emotionally about another person. i think part of this stems from the fact that usually i don't want to care because i never want to be in the situation Heed was in this past night. Relationships are wonderful, they're beautiful, and they are absolutely religious, but they're also ugly, bored, tired, sad, angry, and most importantly: over. Relationships 99% of the time are over. Even me with my amazingly tiny history of relationships 100% are over & done & in the past, yet sometimes i still sit around and think about them. Why? They're fucking in the past, i don't expect to pursue any of them further, nor do i generally think i'm the same person as i was at that time… yet i think about them. Relationships have done so much more damage in my life than anything they've built, and logically they're utterly wasteful. The easiest way to prevent something from being broken is to never build it in the first place, so is no foundation laid because i cannot care, or because i fear its destruction? Learning the cause is paramount for change, but then i think: do I even want to care? i know someday i may meet someone and this perspective may change, but i have and always will be pessimistic, so will it be change, or just a wax?

ok, enough of that shit….

everywhere i go and everyone i see they always ask: how's reddog doing? Why people never ask how i'm doing, i don't know, but since everyone's hungry for reddog information here's the skinny (gather around you fucking gossip whores) reddog starts work at a country club in town later today (like when normal people get up after crazy people like me have gone to sleep only hours before), he is still single so dye your hair blond and stop and talk to him if you see him i'll describe him: he's the only asian guy in mpls who hangs out at bars with a short guy with a big forehead and a tall malnourished-looking asshole with a shaved head and religiously worn combat boots. He's also the only person who's sober by the end of the night… there were some rumors floating around before about reddog moving back to fargo, as far as i know this is a null possibility, remember when people leave fargo they do not return (unless it's in a coffin or something). His car has been fixed for some time now after the dumb-ass kid wrecked it, and is still living at signal15's house with a bunch of brown recluses (as signal15 alleges…).

so what have i been doing lately? Mostly throwing up in the back yard of the mankey village for 45 minutes after wandering around in the street alone with a BAL higher than my IQ, if i was doing something before all of this i'm pretty sure the memories got lost somewhere from their journey from their short-term residence to the areas of my brain which selectively hold all of the sad memories I've ever had (aka 'long term'). Actually i'm mostly kidding my hippocampus works pretty well, I've just been doing fucking boring-ass shit and it's not really worth mentioning.

on Tuesday i was reminded of the reasons behind our kakistocracy. So there're these idiots that travel the country and peddle magazine subscriptions in a weird attempt to 'win' a trip to Europe, even though they could just work a normal job like everyone else for a month and then use the money to go to Europe without whoring themselves out to people who really don't need any more stupid magazines around. One of these idiots visited me, he happened to be from the San Fran area (CA) and he was totally fucking stoned, i don't know how the fuck he thought he was going to talk anyone into buying anything but here's an excerpt from our 'conversation.'

he sees a copy of my time magazine sitting around with a picture of Bono (U2) on the front with the caption saying 'Can Bono save the world?'
"bono wants to save the world, what a fucking dumbass, he's not even American, how's he going to help anyone?-fucking idiot man"
"well there's something to be said for caring enough to try, don't you think?"
"he's a fucking idiot man, ya know. Like he's not gonna' get nothing done."
"um… ok i guess, so what are you trying to do with these cards or whatever you were telling me about again?"
"oh yea,,,uh… hey, this is a really nice place, you party a lot here?"
"no, we don't have parties here."
"why not? Meet Mrs. Right, bang the ones that aren't, it's all good ya' know…"
"uh… i guess, so what are you trying to get these points for again?"
"so you have a girlfriend?"
"nope."
"why not man?"
"i'm not sure, i think i just don't really want one right now."
"so are you like straight, or bi, then, or what?"
"straight, why do you ask?"
"naw, that's cool if you're bi man, it's all good ya know…"
"I said… nevermind."
"do i sound stoned at all to you?"
"no, not at all, it must just be your accent."
"oh man, you ever get stoned?"
"no."
"do you drink and stuff like that?"
"yea, sometimes."
"what do you drink?"
"well, mostly wine i suppose, we drink beer sometimes too, we don't really drink much in Fargo."
"so you ever get stoned at all?"
"no, why are you asking?"
"are you going to offer me a drink or anything?"
"I wasn't planning on it how long are you 'staying' for?"
"oh man, i'm so fucking stoned right now."
etc. etc. etc.

I am convinced that the ratio of dumbass to non-dumbass is rising exponentially in our country, and this particular individual who visited me will do nothing his entire life to ever justify his own existence, although i will pay taxes that will be redirected for his benefit since his remaining 2 firing neurons are being used solely for the purposes of finding marijuana and anything with 2 legs, and a vagina, and not on finding a job or taking care of himself. Sometimes i seriously question what a human life is worth. If we're worth anything i'll wager he'd fetch well below market price…

ok so I've been writing for like 2.5 hours and i'm really not saying anything that's worth reading, why don't you bring your lazy ass along with your fat creditcard to the Electronic Frontier Foundation and donate some money to your freedom instead of the companies that are using your money to buy people in congress to take your fair use and individual liberty away from you. And your children.

perhaps tomorrow: will the internet destroy the republic for which it stands, one nation under god? Never before has a true democracy been possible in this country, could our current electronic interconnectedness provide a means to prevent your electees from becoming representatives of deep-pocketed self-interest groups?

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so a doughnut-making chain called "Krispy Kreme" recently opened up a store in the burps north of Minneapolis (Maple Grove) and people are lining up like fucking whores to buy doughnuts. Being that this is some kind of big event or something, and given that we're all whores, scheides, subgenious, tizmo, babs (subgenious' GF), and some other girl whose name i cannot remember waited in a line of cars for around an hour tonight to get our doughnuts. Now this is really white, and i would never do it, and and and, but seriously it's amazing what you'll do when you're bored and a spur of the moment offer falls on your lap. You would never guess it but apparently this Krispy Kreme is a really happening place at 0200 on a Monday morning. there were all these drunk, and otherwise crazy people fucking running all over and basically having a good time in a parking lot while peering into the waiting cars at all the people who elected to not 'hang out' in a parking lot. Our overzealous driver whose name i cannot remember decided it would be a good idea to call over some of these people to our car and strike up a conversation. By the time we were at the front of the line and paying for doughnuts she had worked out a deal with one of the guys for him to buy her a dozen doughnuts in exchange for a kiss. This seems like a really fucking odd deal to me, but who am i to say, i mean hell, I'd kiss a pretty girl without her buying me anything, not that this chum was pretty or anything, and the sure-to-be-nicotine-tasting-tongue was a definite turn-off as well. But transactions were made and our driver sold her body for 12 doughnuts. After their kiss (which was actually a lot more long and involved than any kiss I'd care to have in front of a bunch of people) was over they even went to far as to exchange phone numbers and other 'important' information, such as this guy's a manager at pizza hut, is 24 years old and doesn't have a driver's license. We took our doughnuts and went on our way. We got to thinking that since there's going to be a big party here at the village in a couple of weeks, and this dude works at pizza hut, that maybe we could get about 30 free pizzas for everyone. On the way home he of course called her (nevermind the X number of days rule i guess) and here's what i heard of her conversation from my back-seat vantage point:

"Hello?
oh hi
oh you were?-I was thinking about you too
what?-tonight, we have to sleep tonight
oh you have to work early, you'd better get some sleep too then
we're going back to Minneapolis
oh we can crash at your place?-no thanks, you need to sleep for work tomorrow
yea, maybe i'll call you later or something…
hey, if we invited you to a party could you get us some free pizzas?
really?like, how many?
what?-we need like 30 of them, this is a huge party
20% off? - we need free ones...
for a hand-job first? Um... i don't know
yea, a huge party, you know like getting drunk and having sex and shit..
well i don't know about sex with you...
well what about those pizzas?
no, i'm not giving you a hand-job right away, maybe after you bring the pizzas
i'm giving you a 50/50 chance, if you bring 30 free pizzas
A strong tongue?
For two hours, how fast could you get me off if i didn't want it to take 2 hours?
Oh really?-how big is your dick, how many doughnuts could you fit on it?
Like the glazed doughnuts you bought us, just try some on now and see…
No, we're going to Minneapolis, we have to sleep
I don't think i want to give you one
I have to go, i'll call you tomorrow or something
Bye."

All i have to say is: 'wow.' While she told us later that she absolutely wouldn't give anyone any hand jobs for any reason, it's still a pretty amazing conversation to overhear nonetheless, scheides, tizmo and i were quite impressed, we're not sure if this is something that happens often to subgenious or what, but mostly i'm just glad i don't know about it...

other than our krispy outing, SMEAT!, mess, signal15 and i blew the day around Minneapolis, we hung at signal15's for a bit, ate dinner at Chang Mai Thai and visited an in-construction house that mess's parents are building. But get this, fucking lunch. This is Thai food, it's supposed to be hot, you know, like with red peppers and shit. On the Chang Mai Thai menus there is a 'hot scale' for one's ordering convienence, so a joe can say 'I want the whatever, with a spicyness of 3' the menu specifically says 'if you order something Thai Hot, you could write your own version of the crying game.' which to me means that it'll be really hot. The only problem is this. If you order 'Thai Hot' anything, it's never fucking hot, it's never even warm, the only way you can get anyone to cook you anything with any heat in this fucking city is to tell the waitress to tell the cooks that they suck and they can't possibly make your food hot enough (so they get pissed and try to kill your food with reds). Today i told her to tell the cooks that they can never make it hot enough. What do i get for spicyness? - close to zero. Pisses me off to no end. i just know that this city's full of scandanavian albinos that eat nothing but lefsa and sweat-cream butter that spend all of their time going to Thai restaurants and complaining that a spicyness of 'mild' is way to hot for their palette, and as a result it's impossible to find anyplace that actually makes food warm, much less hot food. If you don't like hot food then don't order it, i fucking hate mild food, that's why i order it hot. Fucking people diluting the scale... these are probably the same people that feel good that women's clothing sizes keep getting smaller even though the garmets are the same size, "I used to wear an 8, but now i wear a 6" i hear them say... yea that's great except it's not because you're valuable physique has gotten any better...

tomorrow night Andrea and i are going to hang out after she's done with work at around 2100 or so, which will be cool, i'm looking forward to seeing her...
this morning i ditched Kellie, she wanted me to eat lunch with her parents, her brother and brother's wife, i just really didn't feel like it... i think she was pissed, but i fucking told her before that i probably would decline the offer, sometimes life would be a whole lot easier if people just wouldn't invite me to things they know i won't want to do.
i meant to call heed today, but totally spaced it, now it's way too late, i'm curious as to how the rest of her night went after we left gastov's, and of course i'm concerned for her emotional wellbeing as well, fucking-A shit sucks sometimes.

so the incubated thought of the moment:
could the internet replace the republic. As every idiot knows true democracies are close to impossible to implement in any country of more then a hand-full of people mostly because of the enormous barrier of correspondence between all of a country's denizens. i can't spend my entire day thinking about whether or not tariffs should be lowered on imported copper from the Philipines, or if the government should subsidize wheat by another nickel per bushel, and thus we live in a republic: we elect assholes, who sit around all day and make these decisions for us. However the inherent flaw in this 'solution' is the fact that people who are elected for leadership offices generally couldn't care less about the people who gave them their position of power, so long as they will be re-voted into their positions for the next term. In our government today the decision making body is primarily owned by private interest groups, oil, energy, lobbying groups, etc. etc. and most of these entities don't give a shit about the average joe either. It is clear that something within our current system of government needs to be done. i'm not talking about 'change' i'm talking about re-building the current system.

Picture this, we live in a country that is growing increasingly interconnected via internet at an exponential rate, we are living in a country where software development is outpacing our current understanding of needs which may be managed by software instead of people, and we also live during an era of a ridiculously poorly functioning government body. What's wrong with this picture? We write a program that either flags issues currently being debated, or will automatically vote for/against issues based upon preferences pre-set by the registered voter, votes are sent via internet to tallying sites which will in turn determine the outcomes for votes. The system could be further modified so that people may give certain bodies 'rights' for their votes, much like people investing in managed mutual fund accounts. Or whatever modifications need to be made to streamline the system. I could vote on anything/everything individually if i would so choose, or i could elect to have the EFF vote for me on all issues regarding online privacy, free speech, et all, the NAACP for whatever, and the ARP for prescription drug programs. Whatever. This isn't tomorrow but it could and should revolutionize our current national decision-making process sometime in the near future. i'm not saying that this is a system without flaws, it hinges on some very altruistic assumptions like: people aren't stupid, predatory propaganda engines will not be at work, the current governmental system will welcome the change (haha!), etc. etc. i'm sure this idea's been addressed somewhere else before and all of its shortcomings scrutinized, but I don't know that it would be any less fundamentally flawed than our current system, other than that the appropriate checks and balances will need to be put into place via trial & error... while it's not foolproof i think it is the future, albeit perhaps just an imaginary one at that...just my whimsical musings nonetheless.

i'm way fucking tired right now, but perhaps tomorrow i'll write some about our utterly broken 'criminal justice' system, what a fucking oxymoron. But hopefully not as i'll instead be sleeping next to Andrea. As always: we'll see.

if there were a million people in this world you would be 920,000 of them. A random thought on ignorant-rule.

*// krispy dealings.end
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it's Sunday, but for only another 55 minutes or so, i've been back in Fargo for a little over 2 days now, i rolled into town at about 2100 on Friday. Arriving back in town is a lot like visiting Fergus a couple of years ago: i'm overwhelmed by the feeling of a slight panic, crossed with a feeling of nausea, probably a lot like finding out you have HIV, or you just killed someone... actually no, maybe not that, i'm too narcissistic to place those two revelations upon the same significance level... but it's a little like finding out i'm terminal, i feel like i die a little bit every day that i'm here. But really, we're all dying whether we wither in the Midwest, or in San Salvador, i just don't like feeling like i am...

so what've i done since i've been back? Cleaned the apartment, read a little bit, tried to do some writing, but just wasn't in the mood... basically just felt like a human passing on...

signal15 called me just now with 2 temptations (mess swears he's satan)

  1. living in Minneapolis:
    so signal15's brother just took a job in Moorhead (a few minutes from here) at some internet startup place or something and thus will be moving out of signal15's (Minneapolis) house, leaving a vacant room as well as a hole in the house payment where $400 used to be, bummer for 2 reasons: he'll be living in fucking Moorhead, and signal15 needs someone to pay him money (and live with him too, but more of the former than the latter)-so naturally he called me to see if i wanted to live down there, but i'm tied to Fargo for another year... fucking shit, it's really tempting to just say 'fuck it,' move down there, drop out of self-serving (and i thought i was narcissistic earlier in this entry, try Peterson, or Sylvester - a couple of big-headed egophiles looking for, well, ego, naturally) pharmacy school here, and get a C.sci or Comp.E degree from the U of M, i seriously fucking would if i could afford it both in years of my life and dollars in my pocket... but for now i'm following the dollar in the hopes for a more absolute eventual freedom that i could not have by deviating from this path now.

    as a total aside i just poured myself a Guinness in a thick freezer-kept glass. When you pour it, it looks rich as a root-beer float, with the various markings of beautiful layering frozen to the sturdy sides. But when you taste it, it becomes so clear that it's 100x the richness of anything other than a stout beer, and brings on feelings of wellbeing that only heavy beer or maybe an awesome root-beer float could. Plus it makes you have to pee a lot later on just like a little kid who's had too much root-beer. So that has nothing to do with anything, and it probably suggests that i'm not all that into what i'm writing since i've deviated so much, but fuck you, this is my entry and my website, if you don't like my mental wanderings then you're not reading this anyway... :p

  2. the second point; signal15 was reading 'some of my short stories' which i'm not so sure i know what that means being that i've only completed 1, but in light of his breadth of culture he thinks that Playboy would perhaps like to print stuff that i write, and that they pay... so do you think i could pay my way through this year of shittyness by selling my soul to an entity i've never particularly enjoyed? The gears are turning inside my thick skull, what if i wrote a story specifically for this purpose, would that be selling my soul? it's really fucking tempting, assuming they would of course, maybe i'll have to pick up a playboy Ugh.... and find their policy regarding submissions...
temptation follows this man, beware. Promoter of manly-men, hated by girlfriends everywhere, and funny as hell to boot: signal15...

so while at the mankey village there was a cp of Maxim sitting around, while reading it i came across an article that, in so many words, said my penis is of 'average' size. Leave it to a male to think this is important enough to actually write about but here we go... according to Maxim the average length of an erect penis is less than the size i've read everywhere else in any sort of medical literature, while it's very difficult to get males to disclose the size of their erect 'manhood' truthfully in any sort of survey (leading to penis size 'inflation'), while Maxim's 'average' length came out to be about 0.8" shorter than what i'd read before leads me to one of two conclusions; the average size of an average joe's penis has declined significantly in the past decade (baby-boomers retiring or something and thus being around for more penis-size phone surveys and thus taking weight from the trailer trash morons who think penis_size=man_size) or Maxim's fishing for ratings. Being that Maxim is a magazine i would suspect reason #2. if i printed a magazine article that says the readers' dicks are tiny what's the chances that these readers are going to say "what a great magazine, where do i sign up?" so Maxim is probably low-balling the numbers to make pathetic idiots such as myself feel better about some water-works that never get used anyway (except to go to the bathroom now and then...) but somehow think that it's important that we have a big wang while we're passed out in a drunken slumber in the back yard of the mankey village. So in this case my penis is probably average, being that it was a bit above Maxim's 'average,' but then again how much undercutting did they do? Perhaps my package is much smaller than the real average yet still above Maxim's deflation. i could compare myself to other sources, but seriously- are any of these things in the least bit accurate? IMHO penis size is about as important as how high the average person can jump, or how many times the average female scratches her head per day. Who knows? but seriously-who cares? If a guy is in a sexual relationship it isn't horribly likely that he's going to be dumped on the basis of his penis-size alone... now if you're someone like some of the short instructors at NDSU this little-man-complex may get into the way of a legitimate relationship and cause you to be dumped, but not because your penis wasn't big enough for your partner, but because it wasn't big enough for yourself... likewise if you're having a one-night-stand who fucking cares how big your dick is, you're gonna get to fuck anyway, and since it's a one-night thing, well... i shouldn't have to explain this... but in short, boys, just consider yourselves average no matter wtf you read and consider the case closed... that goes for your too signal15. hehe..

speaking of penises and other exciting things (seriously what's more exciting than something as disgusting as someone else's penis???) this Saturday i'm attending an [up to] one article of clothing party at the village so maybe i'll be able to fill everyone in on penis sizes (no pun intended in any of the aforewritten) being that by the end of the night i'm sure they'll be plenty for the eye to grasp. No one's telling anything of what their [up to] one clothing article is, but since this won't be posted until after the 25th i can say whatever the hell i want without spoiling anything... so i went to Ragstock with tizmo and SMEAT! last Friday and picked myself up a prom dress... way fucking cool, i found out also that i'm a size 9, so hopefully all the boys will covet me... and shit. Seems a bit odd though, i used to fit into the pants of someone i know who is a size 2, and that was just a couple of years ago, perhaps i'm getting fat or something? Better start purging i suppose.. or something, but anyway i'm still kind of looking for some fishnet stockings if i could get them for cheep, i think my limit is about $4, since i bought the dress for $8, maybe i'll look for a wig and some black lipstick as well... i'm well on my way to being a deviant misfit, i'm fucking stoked...

according to Merriam Webster the word of the day (WOTD) is 'nosegay' - which basically means a small boquet of flowers, the word roots are way obvious, but talk about a funny cultural idiosyncrasy, haven't heard too many shops pushing nosegays for valentines day these past few years... wonder if they do in San Francisco...

i suppose that's about it for now...

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so again it seems i have a roomie, you know i haven't seen darthmullet for well over a week, pretty fuckidy if you ask me, but tonight we made shish kabobs with mango-salsa cous cous and chased it with some Gin & Tonic, which happens to be pretty fucking good with cumquats , we also had a couple of double-shot dead nazi's to boot. Ultimately we drank in a rush before running out the door to see 'Royal Tenenbums' which seemed like a pretty cool movie except that i think i wasn't as quick-witted as i should have been in my semi-drunken state to be able to understand what the hell was going on half the time, let alone understand the movie... so anyway another pretty decent night made better by alcohol ...

so today i spent the better part of the day at Barnes & Noble reading some various stuff, really i was initially looking for a book that was just published but a week ago entitled 'A New Kind of Science' written by a Wolfram which strives to re-defined the mathematical fabric of which our world is seated upon... apparently he's a really fucking smart guy, PhD at age 20, and the creator of Mathematica, some math software or other, i'm not too up on the whole Math-Tool market. Also i wanted to check out a book written by Sagan, 'Shadows of our lost Ancestors' which apparently is about our behavioral evolution a la why you wanna fuck and are an ass to women, et al... naturally, however, B&N seemed to have neither, actually their CPU said they had a cp of the Sagan book, but no one could seem to find it... you know, i really have a problem with the way that store is organized, don't get me wrong, i love B&N but i can never find anything there. Their science section is subdivided into astronomy, chemistry, biology, mathematics, paleontology, etc. etc. and then books are categorized within each section by author. Sounds easy, but it's fucking hard, one can never tell where astophysics leaves off and physics begins, or in the case of the Sagan book, where the fuck the Anthropology section was at all... i mean there was no section labeled as such on any of the shelves. Even the B&N lady couldn't figure out how the hell their books seemed to be categorized... no wonder i always order shit online when i actually want to find something... sometimes i wonder about the future of the physical store, it's a hell of a lot more expensive than running a dual athelon on a multiple T1 backbone, and really the physical can't compete in a global market. But then again there will always be a shitload of people who like going out and spending more money and taxes up the ass to have a 'shopping experience' seriously a lot of people like to make a day out of shopping, i mean fuck, i spent $20 there today and i didn't even buy anything, sure a couple of mags and a $7 book, but i was able to make a day out of it, online i would have clicked through in less than 60 seconds and been cybersurfing myself to a listless boredom. No fucking tax is what i like most about internet purposes 'states shall in no way infringe upon interstate commerce' what a beautiful statement... unless you live in North Dakota and try to shop at amazon.com, click through to the final screen and low and behold: sales tax? What the fuck? And it's only in North Dakota, have i ever seen anything remotely affiliated with amazon.com anywhere in north Dakota? i'm not claiming to have traveled extensively in this dying land, but i can say with 99% certainty that this is nothing but a corporate loop-hole so the Washington-based company doesn't have to charge its ilk any Washington sales tax, is there even tax in Washington? How fuckidy nonetheless...

oh yes, so the point of this story being this: while at B&N i picked up one of the best magazines currently on the market today: Car (not the fucking American 'CAR" but the English (Bri'ish) CAR). As i thumbed through the pages reading cynical jokes poking fun at corporate behemoth automotive blunders, and knowing what an author said when he mentioned that the C4S isn't an 'uber-porsche' even though i have never come close to driving one, i realized something. Not so much realized, but more of an affirmation of what i have always known: cars rouse more passion in me than perhaps anything else. Not necessarily raw passion, plenty of things do that like religion and stupid people and the like, but more of an unconditional-love sort of feeling. Reading through the pages and learning that the F60 will have a 6L V12 with 650 hp weighing in at 1200kg made me feel truly excited. Will i ever have anything close to a chance of ever owning 1 of 300 made?-of course not, but it made my heart pound and my hands sweat. There's something magically passionate about automobiles, they are an artform in and of themselves, with their own set of rules, etiquette, and culture. the automobile is the essence of culture, heritage, engineering, passion, pride and identity. While the American idiots build lumbering 4-wheeled monsters out of cinder blocks and cereal packets the Germans build mass-marvels that would make aircraft engineers jealous from a perspective even outside the most competitive market on the planet. Whether it be a reliable and indestructible Japanese roadster or a high-maintenance Italian doll i love cars; brembo brakes clawing cross-drilled rotors and aluminum blocks bolted to space-frame chassis does for me, something that nothing else ever possibly could. Oft when i look at life and think to the future i dream not of marriage or security, but rather a car so beautiful that i cry when i sit in the driver's seat. This is what life should be, not an infatuation with our creations, but an insatiable admiration for the beauty we are capable of in all things we touch. A car is all but one of the most artificial man-made devices upon this earth, yet look at a 575 Modifica thoroughbred and try to tell me a natural and harmonious beauty fails to grace its physique.

so i went into work today at about 1000 for an 'exit' interview and to talk to my boss in the pharmacy, he offered me a more-or-less challenging task, i have yet to decide on whether or not to take him up on the offer, i need time to think about the ramifications of the project and what exactly my goals for an endpoint would be. Also i feel horribly inexperienced and unlearned in means by which to achieve this end...

we'll see.

tomorrow i don't really have a plan, have to go to fucking NDSU to take care of some stupid shit and then sit around, i was thinking about going back to Fergus Falls for a couple of days or something, but i'm not sure that this'll be the case, on the one hand i'd like to not be idle, but on the other, damn it's nice to be without obligation...

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so i really need go JavaScript all my framed pages in order to keep searches from bringing up files without their proper nesting, what a pain in the ass...

i've been up for a few hours now, can't believe it's only 0900, one thing is sure: although one can get a lot more done if he/she gets up early the opportunity for boredom sure does seem to present itself sooner in the day. Actually someone at work is sick, she thinks she has food poisoning, she called me a little before 0700 and left a VM on my account on some server somewhere, you know i've always wondered about VM-where the server is, what it's running, how easy it would be to crack in and switch mailbox routes around... not that i could, but in theory, it's always about theory isn't it? - but anyway i have an opportunity to work today, but i need to get a bunch of stupid shit done for NDSU and ND boards i've been putting off and shit, so i figured i'd do that and then swing by work later and see what the deal is, i really should work as i should really be minimizing my financial losses while i am still able, but you know... i really just don't feel like fucking working sometimes...

so here's the best job ever: write a comic or a cartoon every day, and have it be published in some brain-dead newspaper and make a living from that, be you in Japan or Italy with the power of the internet it really wouldn't matter where one lived or what he/she was doing with his/her time so long as he/she would be able to e mail his/her piece to the appropriate agency. Ok, maybe not the 'best' job, but a pretty damn decent one. The other awesome job would be to be a musician, but we all know how they all get totally fucked by the nice recording industry...

well i suppose i shall be off for now, what is the meaning of life, apart from making little baby Catholics, that is?

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in Minneapolis, it's almost as if in some point in time one realizes that alcohol is so engrained that no matter what the circumstance it cannot be eliminated from life, how hopeless it would be to try; gazing upon a wood-grained table where litres upon litres of clear fluid resides in all its demonic and insidious stillness sits, listless, restless, and waiting for some unsuspecting waif to give itself to its solace. Could life continue without the drug, like any psychedelic substance hewn with addiction so much of life revolves around the rite of worship that without the depths of which, the splendor of today could not possibly be surpassed. Perhaps in love, or in the stitched embrace of an EB220 one could forget the taste of a good Chianti alongside a spicy penne, or the lightly musty smell of Crown entwined with the sweet carbonation of Coke, yet the voice would return. Late at night after the bride's fallen to slumber and the steel & aluminum gives to the tapping sound of cooling fury, the voice would remain. Drink, build a cupboard, a cellar, and die inside its kiss. Waste away to nothing but a desire knowing nothing but a need, and a life knowing nothing but desire. No matter how much of the demon is wasted, poured upon the ground, or down the drain, no matter how much is consumed to kill the monster screaming from within, it remains, it retains, and it devours. No sin can wash the blood from its maw, and no soul can lessen its distance from the heart. Built into social circles, and cheap table talk the plight of the foolish under gait of one far too totalitarian to ever burn in hindsight bends social acceptance into a strange necessity. Does this idea then become a story, or does it become reality. So mixed and muddled i forget the difference, media is but a chip off the block of the now, built from budding blossoms whispered through the TV and a million nobodies wasting into shadow, and wasting into little humans doomed to fail by the plight of their fathers. Sometimes i wish there could be a purpose, sometimes i wish the hopelessness could be absolute, without an end beyond a life of nothing we wither into oblivion, and what can i ever do to make the world a better place when i am gone? Is it even worth one life to fix a future shaped by those who faithfully believe their destiny involves not any betterment of life for their children? i debate these things as Amber sleeps uneasily in her usually awkward & alcohol-induced slumber with her head propped against the living-room bookcase. While emotionally destroyed by the drug, giving to the comfort of her presence i seldom doubt the power of this thing over two pathetic human lives. i love only her company, and she loves only a companion to drown her life, if but, for a while. So many times i hesitate, during my mundane day and wonder if she would be even capable of love without the crutch of the beast, and yet i question: which really is the crutch. So this night, just one of an infinitum i gently carry her flaccid body into my bed, our bed, and sleep with the only the thing she loves, tolerate only that which i feel i have become. Am i an escape from the ills of her broken life, am i but a window to a better place, visited time upon time again, whilst the desperate still can find not the door? I've used her for so many things, security, sex, entertainment, an excuse, a mirror, and yet her infatuation with the ghost of the alterworld is but a reminder of my own failure to break free of a million horrible vices which haunt the head of every man, and taint the life of every beast pushing thought, and its action in turn, deeper into the ground. Whether this in all actuality becomes an entry, or a short story it remains without a point, the product of a roving and wandering mind, the hungry eyes doing little justice to its prowess and its deep-seated desires for a purpose, be it buried in flesh or wrought of agony. What does writing this say about me, does the capability of the mind give hint to the whims of desire, and the twisted brokenness of conscious thought, or do the handholds to sanity exist simply because of the exploration of the clearly disassociated? So today i sit here typing at 0500 in the basement of the village after many drinks of cheap & absolutely destitute liquor. My eyes aren't swimming, nor are my actions controlled by any force but mine. And with much command. Tomorrow, well, later today in all actuality, at 2000 i am attending an [up to] one article of clothing party, mostly the doing of scheides but put together by the village. It'll be very very fucking sweet (at least it fucking better be) perhaps they'll even be some pictures on tid242.com, although don't count on it (since when do people want to see ugly pictures of anything?), judge me by my words, not by the beauty of my prom dress, nor the drunkards i may be considered one of this night… in other news people sometimes unwhittingly go against their word, sometimes i wonder, just to spite the logic of human action? Other times people surprise for the better, though never enough. The mattress behind looks desolate, so perhaps my body will keep it from eternal solitude. By the way i know no one named 'Amber.' Well i do, but i think she'll be a Robinson someday, and i haven't talked to her in a year. She had nothing to do with the amber of the dreamworld, i just like the name Amber. Amber is the life of the yesteryear, seemingly eternal and a window to all that was, yet passed away, too bad indeed…

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the party

Sick and tired of those "regular" parties you always go to?

 

We can take care of that!

 

On Saturday, May 25 2002, the residents of the Mankey Village will ease your sorrowful woes.

 

 

It's the end of school party.

It's somebody's birthday party.

It's somebody's graduation party.

It's your party.

 

Join us at *address rm'd to protect the mankeys* for a social gathering you may never forget.

Come around 8pm, but make sure you're dressed appropriately.

The rules:

Rule #1: Bring anyone you want. Hell, bring everyone you know! There will be lots of beer on hand.

Rule #2: Come dressed as you like, but to get past the entryway, you must be wearing no more than ONE article of clothing. (Note: Accessories are allowed, which are classified by the amount of skin they hide compared to the rest of the outfit, or the number of appendages they encapsulate/touch.)

Rule #3:Accessories should be kept minimal, such as shoes (maybe socks), bandanas, hats, outrageous earrings, bracers, bracelets, magical amulets, etc.

Rule #4:Underwear DOES NOT classify as an accessory (as it encapsulates/touches not only your torso, but also both of your legs), but MAY be used as your one article. icon_lol.gif

Rule #5:If your one article is JUST a cape, you are allowed to use *A* sock as an accessory. icon_lol.gif

Rule #6: Did we mention there's going to be a MASSIVE HOT TUB in our back yard? SWIM SUITS ARE OPTIONAL.

Rule #7: Remember, we're all light-hearted, and this is a light-hearted event. If you feel uncomfortable wearing little or nothing in the midst of a bunch of people who are wearing little or nothing, don't worry! We'll have plenty of Tequila on hand!

 

All we ask is that you bring $5 for all the beer you can drink!

(and maybe some random snack food)

 

See you there:

5.25.2002, 8pm

Mankey Village

Minneapolis, MN 55412

Call the village for directions, etc.

Also, feel free to post questions about this festivity here.

 

courtesy of scheides.com

how was it....?

in short: fucking awesome, 99% of everything was absolutely fucking cool. everything was well planned, well laid out, and well intentioned.

read on...

scheides did some big-time planning, inviting, and paying to make everything work, we had an assload of liquor, 32 gallons of Linie's original (they apparently couldn't get Newcastle...), a 12-person hot-tub, a kick-ass theme, and about 60 awesome people to enjoy the fruits of his labor. Not only that but i think everyone who contributed didn't end up paying too much as @ $5/cup the village brought in a fair amount of bread.

but first, the qualms:
stolen cameras. What a fucking crock of shit, during the course of the day (before the fuxing party even) scheides & subgenious both got their digital cams kyped out of the garage, we're pretty sure it was a stranger who wanted to borrow gas for his lawn mower, for whom we subsequently provided a shitload of beer, a grilled bratwurst, and exceptional hospitality (for a complete stranger). Do unto others, nice how we were repaid. Thus we have a huge dearth of party pix, and must rely on signal15's plethora of probably perverse pictures taken throughout the night.

getting along: i wish SMEAT! and Mess could get along better together when they drink.

cleaning up: holy shit, what a filthy post-party house. Darthmullet and i were on a time-pinch, so we were unable to chip in, that really fucking sucks...

absenteeism: UAIOE/Anne, homeslice/Holly, fantabulous_fun/Katie, and others all failed to make time.... buggers. Do you see the trend with marriage/engagement and not showing up? coincidence, i think not.

but the day as it happens...
i woke up at probably 1030 or so, which sounds late, but i stayed up until about 0600 doing some writing and then some reading in a buzzed insomnia. i think it perhaps wasn't until 1200 or so when everyone actually got all ready for the day, it takes a long time for 10+ people (SMEAT!, mess, subgenious, scheides, anna, tizmo, carrie, darthmullet, myself, uh... maybe that's it...) to shower and 'bathroomize' themselves with but one bathroom. At about 1230 we start a cleaning rampage, darthmullet was able to pull himself away from el Diablo (D2) long enough to clean up the living room, subgenious and i cleaned the basement (mostly putting computer parts into a storage room), and we all basically made the house shatter-proof. A bunch of liquor got hidden in SMEAT!'s closet, and all valuables and personal items went into scheides' room. About 1300 Captain Party Time (763.786.6402, we highly recommend him) delivered the hot-tub and we start filling it up with H2O, About half an hour after captain party left scheides and darthmullet made a 'keg-run' and picked up the two 16 gallon kegs of Linie's, while signal15 and i sat around and watched the hot-tub fill, while talking about money and why working sucks. When scheides & darthmullet returned with the kegs, signal15 went home to take a nap. 1500 scheides, anna and i make a run to buy supper (brauts & sweet corn), and some more shot-liquor (several litres just wasn't enough), while darthmullet and subgenous made a run to buy outfits and put $500 down on a camera that would be stolen less than 4 hours later. By 1630 the hot-tub was bearable and dead animal parts were sizzling on the grill. The house was ready, we were eating & ready, the hot-tub was hot, the sun was shining, and friends communing with laughter. Life was good. we laid low for about an hour an a half, at 1800 we tapped the keg. Life was very good. by 1830 t-dog had showed up, and no one was wearing more than 1 article of clothing, here's the skinny on the usual suspects who were around that night:

  • SMEAT!: a long army shirt & a belt. He looked like some sort of roman manly-man from The Gladiator, later that night he changed into a swimsuit for hot-tub lounging.
  • t-dog: some way retro-70's-style pants and some ugly easter-grass-green sandals. i don't know when he left, but i don't remember him being there until late, hmmmm....but he did look like either a jon, or some sort of strange male prostitute.
  • scheides: an orange jumpsuit (looked like a prison get-up) with some sniper/aviator glasses, looked like total white trash.
  • Anna: some denim 70's-style getup with a huge buckle & skin-tight, looked like she was from one of those cheesy spy-agent chic shows where they all did lots of acrobatics and cleavage-type things. Neither anna nor scheides ever changed as they didn't hot-tub during the party and went to bed more-or-less early.
  • subgenious: he wore some of the weirdest pants i've ever seen, they looked sort of like a burlap bag except they had words like 'tobasco' written all over the front of them. he looked like either a homeless male prostitute, or someone you'd find wandering around St. Petersburg, thinking it was Cincinnati.
  • darthmullet: he went for the hugh hefner look, and purchased a Kimono, but wore it like a bath-robe and wandered around all night smoking fat cigars and looking very much like a porno-critic (not that i know what porno critics look like). He must later have changed into swim trunks or something to be in the hot-tub, but i don't remember, i believe he was dared to make out with SMEAT! however...
  • mess: mess wore some sort of huge bed-sheet looking thing that could have fit about 3 people into, she looked very much like some sort of agrarian self-sustinence community person those fucking bozos on star trek find in some temperate world where the bad guy's just hidden some virus or something...
  • reddog: he wore fucking shorts, what a wanker, he was going to wear him a chemo-gown i took from the hospital for him, but then he fucking wussed out, i was highly disappointed, but then again he wore nothing for probably about half the night, so perhaps that evens things out.
  • signal15: bri'ish boxers. If you'd like to see them i'm sure he could give you a private showing, for a price.
  • tizmo & Carrie: i really can't remember, they didn't get there until 2100 or so, apparently i was drunk by then... tizmo was wearing swim-trunks later that night though.
  • tid242: if you weren't there you missed seeing me in a skanky black dress, and naked apparently later in the hot-tub... i'm sure you're heartbroken.
the predominant theme throughout the night was jumpsuits (apparently ragstock must have had a lot of them) and dresses, like the one yours truly was wearing. There were also several people who didn't really know they were only supposed to wear one article of clothing, what can you do but give them 2 rolls of the d6 (6-sided die for all you non-D&D'ers, or i suppose '2d6' for you 'correct' gamers) giving them a 34% chance of getting a shot of 190-proof grain alcohol (fucking nasty) and i suppose about a 3% chance of getting 2 shots of the shit (i'd probably give them a break and let them have something light & easy like vodka instead for their second...). At the beginning of the night i rolled a 4 and got a shot of Jack Daniels, probably what i would've picked by choice out of the lot, can't complain. Darthmullet & subgenious both got the fucking 190-proof grain shit that smells like rubbing alcohol, scheides got Jack i think, and i don't remember who else got what. But as aforementioned things went along very smoothly, no one got sick, and nothing 'bad' really happened... i met a shitload of people and re-met a shitload more, strangely enough i actually remember some peoples' names, which is like a first as i absolutely fucking suck with names, but being that i remembered most of them via jumpsuit color i don't know that i'll be able to recall them later (like when i actually see the people again....). it's really fucking funny, i've been thinking of someone i used to hang out with all the time named Andre (not the Andre that bewitched is engaged to) for the past few weeks, just really having the "i wonder WTF happened to him" kind of questions turning inside my mushy head. Turns out that he and someone i grew up with, Evy (pronounced like 'envy,' but without the 'n') saw Mandy at some mall somewhere a few days before and she invited them. it was way fucked up to see them again, kind of funny how i really haven't talked to either of them for about 5 or so years and yet nothing's changed between us. It's as if conversations picked up mid-sentence hundreds of miles away and years later. Very cool to see them both, definitely. Also Andre's cousin, Amy, who i've also not really seen for perhaps 6 or 7 years also showed up. damn it's just fucking funny how the world turns sometimes. So naturally when i haven't seen someone for 5+ years it's only befitting that when they see me again i'm wearing a skanky black dress, glitter, a gold medieval-dominatrix-type arm-band, i'm more or less shit-canned, and borrowing Albuterol hits from Evy because i can't breathe. Very impressive i'm sure. So apparently the 1st keg ran dry before midnight, and the second was still about 1/3 full by the next day. i remember doing a lot of dancing in the living room to a shitload of different kinds of music, some trashed chic with lots of tattoos stuffing my breasts (thanks Evon, not that you're ever going to read this or anything), taking multiple peeings in the bushes with T-dog (probably the only dress-wearer there who didn't have to squat, so there), smoking (yuck) with Mandy, doing some Vanilla-something shots with SMEAT!, etc. a typical night of being pretty much consistently on the good side of the buzzed/drunk threshold. i can remember bits and pieces of different things, and garbled conversations with a zillion different people. i'd say by about 0200 the majority of people had gone home (apparently the mankey village is a proud supporter of driving under the influence). Which was also about the time i hit the hot-tub. Now this was about a 12 or so person tub, as mentioned before, what was not mentioned before however was that signal15 had set up an X10 cam suspended from the ceiling rafters of the garage (where the hot-tub was) giving a video feed to a TV/VCR in the mankey village basement. He was thus labeled a 'perv' by someone named Mary who i'd never met before. But apparently there are several hours of funky hot-tub tape somewhere at the village. Funky?-allow me to elaborate. So at about 0200 or something (probably later) i went and jumped into the hot-tub, already in attendance were the following: SMEAT!, signal15, tizmo, darthmullet, reddog, shelly (this is the person who whored herself out for those doughnuts earlier this month), rusty (the brother of someone we graduated with), Jessica (heed's cousin, heed had gone home already), and Mandy (sorry if i've forgotten anyone). The first words said to me when i got in (wearing my fucked up dress): "what the fuck are you doing wearing something in the hot-tub" off went the dress. Apparently they were playing truth or dare which, seemed to involve me making out with Mandy and Jessica at the same time before i even knew WTF was going on at all. reddog was making out with everyone, darthmullet got to make out with SMEAT!, people got to run around the house naked, and the list goes on. i'm lucky to have only had to make out with members of the opposite sex, while i know SMEAT! must have enjoyed reddog's wanger on his forehead, i'm not so sure that i would have. heh. i really can't remember in the slightest how long we all stayed in the water and all that Jazz. i do remember staying up past 0600 or so with reddog sitting around the chess-table. i eventually ended up sleeping in Anna's sleeping bag (she slept with scheides) on the hardwood floor, pillowless. Man was i fucking sore the next day...

the next day:
so i rolled out of bed at about 1045, my arms, legs and back just fucking hurt. i was later to discover that i had (and still have) a shitload of bruises, marks and bludgeoned-bashings over almost every part of my body, i was told later by tizmo that i was leaping from the floor into the hot-tub, which i only vaguely remember, but is pretty impressive nonetheless as the hot-tub was probably about 5 feet off the floor, but would explain much of my battle wounds. My calves are still really sore and start cramping if i flex them too much, so i think i believe tizmo when he implied that i was maybe doing exceptional jumping, but the feeling of lifting hay-bales the day before has left my shoulders and arms. i suppose practicing throws and holds with subgenious the night before on the hardwood living room floor also had a hand to play in this respect. i did feel a bit sick but mostly because i still had the taste/smell of cigarettes in my mouth, nose & all over me. i took a quick shower, brushed my teeth, and was set to jet. Tizmo, Carrie, reddog, Jessica, scheides, Anna, darthmullet, subgenious, BABS (his GF, did you know that already?), and shelly all went to Papa's for breakfast after Mandy & Rusty acquired rides home. SMEAT! & mess elected to stay home. Now this Papa's place is fucking awesome, i believe members of the village somehow end up there on a weekly basis (on Sundays... sort of like church, but without the guilt or hypocrisy). The place is just fucking great, it's a small mom & pops-owned type enterprise that cooks huge fucking servings of greasy breakfast food before closing at 1400 after the lunch-rush. i ate a 4-egg omelet, 2 pices of toast, and an assload of fried potatoes, along with a few cups of coffee (bad coffee, holy shit...but ya' need caffeine what do ya' do?) for only $27. now this sounds like a lot, but then you consider that reddog & Jessica had the same enormous quantity of food and i paid for them, it's actually a pretty decent deal. The place is fucking awesome and i highly recommend it, i'll be sure and post their address/phone for interested people when i can find it (fucking qwestdex can't find shit). So we all rolled back into the village at around 1445 or so, dangled our feet in the hot-tub for about 45 minutes and darthmullet, Anna and i took off for Fergus (darthmullet had to eat supper with his mom & beth (who elected not to come because she fucked herself into babysitting for a couple of Fargo idiots, honestly people in this town are such morons sometimes, but that's a different (and not very exciting story (do you like parenthesis?(don't worry, i'll balance them))))). We were therefore unable to help with cleanup, which i feel bad about, but the mankey fun got a $20 donation out of the deal, which would pay for 1.5 persons to eat some decent Thai, which i unfortunately missed out on this weekend...

so then, realizations i've come to:

there is nothing inherently romantic about a kiss. There is certainly something romantic about kissing someone for whom you have romantic feelings toward, but just a kiss is pretty boring. It's like driving a car you hate, or eating food at perkins, it's ok sometimes, but generally it just really sucks. I've never actually kissed anyone that i was not romantically attracted to before this past Saturday, or perhaps it was kissing with a total absence of any sort of sex-drive nor interpersonal romantic attraction, i don't know, but it was, well, boring? Boring... yea, that's probably the best adjective for my interpretation of the act. It is for this reason that i don't think i'll be hiring very many prostitutes in the near future...

wearing a dress (if you're a guy) is a great way to get people to start conversations with you, perhaps not in any social setting, but, hey, guys: if the opportunity arises ragstock is a great place to get a $5 dress...

if you're having a party and someone you don't know asks to borrow any gas, either tell him/her to fuck off, or give him the gas but then beat the fuck out of him/her when he/she steals your stuff. Under no circumstance should you be hospitable to him/her, provide 8 cups of beer nor a grilled Bratwurst, or otherwise be nice to him/her. So i have to wonder, since the fellow was Black whether he would have still stolen our stuff had we all been black as well. i know most people who actually feel they have some cultural identity are a lot less inclined to disturb those of the same persuasion, which is generally why minorities get fucked over by white people and why white people get fucked by minorities when the opportunity arises. Sometimes the quirks of the world just make it really hard to actually be a decent human being IMHO.

ragstock in minneapolis is fucking awesome, i would probably clock about 90% of the outfits there of ragstock origin, keep it up.

i have fucking awesome friends, i couldn't ask for a better family.



memorable quotes:
  • "that guy over there..." "who signal15?" "yea, him, we don't like him, he seems like a perv..." said Mary as signal15 was fucking with the X10 stuff for recording..."yea, i guess he kind of is, huh." i replied :)
  • "my asthma's gotten so much better since i've started smoking, i never even need my inhaler anymore." Evy
  • "wow, you look better than i do." Heed, after seeing my feminine garb for the first time, which must have meant something because i've always thought her to be very attractive.
  • "don't stand in the corner of the fence, that's where i just peed" reddog to t-dog & myself
  • "you wanna' adjust the camera when you go out there, we can't see the naked people in the far end of the hot-tub" scheides said to me on my way out to the tub.
but shit, i should probably hit the hay... really i didn't spend 15 hours writing this, but just never really finished...

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