I’m wearing black lipstick, I feel pretty.
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>Nine Inch Nails – Physical (THE FUCKING BEST SONG EVER)
>Methods Of Mayhem (feat. Lil’ Kim, Tommy Lee, and someone else) – Get Naked
>Kittie – Do You Think I’m A Whore
>Monster Magnet – Space Lord
Just watched SLC Punk with the directors’ commentary track, the non-sexual scenes of The Doom Generation, and the love scene (no, not sex scene) from Blade Runner. I’m beginning to feel like love fucking sucks. Or rather, love is fucking as ephemeral as an orgasm. Or maybe I just haven’t met mr. right. If I do meet Mr. Right, we’ve GOT to fuck to Physical. I am now fucking in love with Physical. I want to party, I want to mosh really bad, I want to beat the shit out somebody (especially myself), I just feel like I’m sinking into this pile of shit and mediocrity, and that it’s fucking taking hold, and that I’ve got to bust out. I hope they start up those little concerts they used to have, it’ll be good. Maybe I should start my own band. I wonder what I’d call it…probably something hella-obscene. Like, Fuck Festival or Anal Regurgitation…lol Maybe purfekshun or Dead Stars…I wonder if that’s taken. Too bad New Model Army is taken, I love that. I need more…cool friends. Christine is like, the only cool person I know. Oh, and Royce, but he’s a whore and I don’t see him around anymore. I’m a whore too though…but I at least try to find mr. right, he’ll just fuck anyone anywhere… I’d add something to that…if you want to know ask me. Well, I want to mosh but there’s nobody here, I want to get in a fight…god I am so fucking bored. Oh, I saw Ann a few days ago…I showed her where the bathrooms were, we didn’t get to talk much. I’ve been meaning to write that I’ve been having a lot of dreams that take place in/on space and space stations or space ships…maybe not space ships exactly, but uber-modern places. I think it’s from reading Super-Cannes. I finished it last night, it had such a good ending. I was disappointed like, halfway through, but the last half was worth it. Well, my hands hurt, I should go to bed after I watch some TV, maybe that’ll turn off my mayhem genes.
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Bjork – Pagan Poetry
Hocico – Boiling Blood
OMG! Christine and I went to the Revival, she came over at like twelve and we hung out and watched movies until it was time, it was so crazy, there was this fat lady that kept dancing, they were all chanting ‘praise jesus!’, it was priceless. The level of insanity there, on a scale of 1-10 was about 200.6. We kind of walked around Crescent City be4 it started, we played air hockey at the Cinemas and I got some bouncy balls (gosh that sounds wrong), yeah, it was great. I’ll write more later, I’m talking to Jon and Keith on AIM
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>Covenant – Dead Stars
>Devo – Girl You Want (DEVO ROCKS!!!!! j/k)
OMFG!!!! I just spend frickin’ hella-hours on the phone with MSN tech support. It had some strange moments, like the three-minute long conversation with the billing lady who sounded like she’d just gotten thoroughly baked out of her mind (I was trying to get tech support, but she had other ideas). The last guy I talked to (after waiting 30 minutes) had a good sense of humor, I’d do him if I knew him (whoa, that rhymed). Anyway, I’m very happy to be blogging in paradise. I wanted to look at this pornographic junk mail I got more in-depth, it was so funny, this guy had this computer-enhanced elephant-sized dick, it was so disturbing. Just think, if the people who invented computers could see what their creations would create in the future, computer-generated gargantuan penises. Just the thought of it….it’s disturbing. Anyway, I didn’t succeed in finding the theater chick from CR’s blog, apparently it’s not on Google. I can’t remember the band she’s obsessed with…if only I could remember it, I’d be able to find her. OMG! OMG! OMG! Christine and I are going to the Revival tomorrow! I so can’t wait. To experience insanity firsthand, and with someone as cool as Christine, is going to be orgasmically funny. Either that or scary. My dad’s girlfriend was saying that since they had a heated tent, they probably pumped it full of hallucinogenic drugs or sodium penethol (truth serum) to get people all krazied out…if so it’ll be my first time getting high…lol. Well, I guess I’m going to check my e-mail, and retire to my bed to finish J.G. Ballard’s “Super-Cannes”. It’s an amazing book. The end should be spectacular.
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>Marilyn Manson – Slutgarden
>Marilyn Manson – Use Your Fist And Not Your Mouth
>Marilyn Manson – Ka-Boom Ka-Boom “I am a big car, and I’m a strip bar, call it fake I call it good as it gets”
I feel so fucking cool today, I broke out my makeup and went crazy with some hella-clumpy mascara from like 1996, my black lipstick and black eyeliner. I made my face all white, washed it off, and thought, whoa! My mascara/eyeliner had made this cool greyish-looking halo around my eyes, and my lipstick had washed off in some places and not others, it looked so great, so I accentuated the places where it smeared, it looks so great. Anyway, I’ve gotten to know some of the newspaper people better, this girl that moved here from Florida, I met her the day we had the party for the editor, she is so amazingly great. I’m going to try to find her blog after I finish this posts. She says she’s a fag hag, I wonder if she knows I’m gay…eh who cares. I’ve kind of…gone back in the closet, in a way. I just don’t think it necessary for people to know unless the conversation entails something sexually-related. I mean, straight people don’t go around saying “I’m straight!” the first time you meet them. Well anyway, I’m going to beg my dad to get off his ass and drive me to town, there’s so much stuff I need. I have this gargantuan list in my room. I so need hair color, my roots are like an inch long now, and I really want to find some eyeliner/mascara that isn’t tested on animals (poor little bunnies), :( . Anyway, I need some stuff at Wal-Mart, like cotton balls and q-tips, but I highly doubt he’ll buy them. So I’m going to beg and beg. He’s such a fucking liar, he talked about buying me a computer when I graduated, and what did I get? A measly $100? FUCKING KILL. Oh, I talked to Trisha today, we had a good phone conversation, Messenger wasn’t working for some reason. Well, I can’t really think of anything else that’s going on, so I guess I’ll go find the newspaper chick’s blog.
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>Nine Inch Nails – Heresy
>Nine Inch Nails – Deep
>The Donnas – Take It Off
>Nine Inch Nails – Sin
>Portishead – All Mine? (not sure which portishead song it is, it’s on a mix)
I’m at the college, my history class was canceled, so I have to wait like an hour until my appointment with the Drift lady to either upload or burn the PDFs of the old Drift issues. Heather’s supposed to show up too, but I highly doubt it. I should be rewriting my English essay, but my hands frickin’ hella-hurt, if I typed an entire page, they would feel like there was broken glass in my muscles. My English teacher gave me a copy of this magazine he was talking about yesterday, I’m supposed to read it over the weekend. I kind of feel like a brown-noser, but I really am interested in reading it. There’s this really cute guy sitting at one of the tables here, he has that whole Beverly Hills rugged surfer/skater thing goin’ on, it’s great. I had to talk to the obese chick in Philosophy with bad teeth, we did group activities. All she could talk about was cartoons and movies. Everything reminded her of a TV show or movie…it was so annoying. She’s at the computer across from me. Hmm… The expresso shack lady burned her hand, and I saw the newspaper guy. He is so frickin’ hot, but I’m not attracted to him in any other way than I want to get to know him, he seems very enigmatic, and enigmas intrigue me immensely. He could be a model though, it’s strange, he kind of looks like a living painting…I dunno. I guess since I haven’t seen anyone physically beautiful that wasn’t internally ugly, I associated “the beautiful people” as the ones in paintings, so I like to look at him because he’s beautiful. It sounds dysfunctional for some reason. So him and Taggart are kind of like…art? I have no idea how I feel. I feel fragmented, broken, and dysfunctional. What is this “love” that they keep talking about? You can never really know another person, so how is it possible? God, I’ve typed so much I should have retyped my English essay. Huh, the Star Trek Homeless Guy just made the ejaculation noise again. How kreepy. Oh, I saw that one girl that’s in my english class this morning that works at continental bakery, we talked for a while, then I saw Amber May and this person that Christine would always talk about, I want to say Shirley but that’s completely wrong. I think it starts with an S though. I got some hot tamales from the vending machine, they were yummy. I got batteries at the 76 on the corner, I can actually listen to music, it’s so kewl. Well crap, I might as well write my essay.
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The guy that is sitting across from me–the guy that looks like a hobo but also seems like he should be in a Star Trek episode–just made some sound that sounded like an ejaculation. Creepy. Frickin’ creepy. The hobo-esque-ly dressed, hideously obese chick that’s in my philosophy class is in here, she’s wearing heels. They must be reinforced concrete to cope with her gargantuan mass. I’m going to eat my lunch and read my art chapter, not necessarily in that order.
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I’m bored at the college, in my hideously uncomfortable and hideously expensive boots. Today has been boredom after boredom after boredom. I saw hottie #2 though, that was kind of cool, one of his classes gets out at like nine or ten. I’m wearing my REDRUM shirt, I love it. The newspaper meeting is at twelve, but I haven’t seen the editor dude anywhere. Maybe he has classes in the mornings. One of those trendy skater dudes is here, his imbecilic prep friend is getting his college ID here in the library. There’s a sorta-cute surfer guy that’s waiting for one of the counselors in the hall. God, this place sucks really bad when there aren’t classes. I would actually be enjoying myself, but wasps have invaded the student lounge, so my phobia has trapped me either outside or in the library. I can’t be outside because I forgot my coat, so I’m stuck in the library all frickin’ day. I loathe wasps. And bees. I wanted something really demonic to read, so I requested Mein Kampf (I think that’s spelled right), but it won’t get here for 1-2 weeks. I’m tired, and it’s cold outside. Natasha Burns came into the student lounge this morning, and I was like, oh shit! but luckily telling everyone I met about her smelly, hypocritical stupidity paid off and she didn’t talk to me. I was like, YES! I had to leave the student lounge because of her bubbling projectile oral defecation. Loud stupid people should be taken out and shot. Wow, it’s windy outside. Guess I’m not going to visit Danielle any time soon. The maintenance guy is mowing the lawn on this gargantuan riding lawnmower. With the wind, it looks like he’s riding a huge mechanical stallion against the winds. Hmm, the CR vice-president just came into the library…oh no we just made eye contact…look at the frickin screen Darius…oh good they’re gone. It seems like something is going on. I visited Danielle’s house yesterday, we had a good time. She’s such a happy person. The taming of the reptilian-green mechanical animal continues…whoa I just uttered a Mansonism. Hmm. Dani’s boyfriend has diabetes, and her brother is very…weird, but they’re all cool. Dad and I went shopping yesterday, then we got pizza. The pizza didn’t do well with my digestive system…I got a stomachache. I need to read my art chapter, but I really don’t feel like it. I’ll have to do it in the next thirty minutes, the newspaper meeting is at twelve. I suppose I should go, I’m going to work on the HTML version of my website when I get home, unless my english teacher gives me a lot of homework, which is quite probable.
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>Placebo – Without You I’m Nothing
>Placebo – Bruise Pristine
>Basement Jaxx – All I Know
Talking to that John Matthew character from the Phillipines, he thinks my philosophical arguments about the hipocrisy of America are sound. I feel smart. And I am, until proved otherwise. Well, when I went here I felt I had something to write about, now I can’t remember. I’m posting the conversation at my website, in the HTML version.
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>Marilyn Manson – New Model, No. 15
>Marilyn Manson – User Friendly
>Nine Inch Nails – Somewhat Damaged
I’ve ascertained why my dad doesn’t give a fuck about me. My mother told me a long time ago that my dad never wanted kids. That’s why he keeps saying he’s going to kick me out when I turn 18. I’ve got to get the fuck out of this insane asylum. I’m going to ask tomorrow about boarding out in Eureka. He’s like a spoiled little child. “Wash the dishes! Do it now!” he wants to be some kind of fucking sultan. He says I’m going to have to start doing stuff in order to be able to go to the doctor or get things like a backpack. WHAT THE MOTHERFUCKING FUCK? AM I NOT FUCKING HUMAN? I FUCKING HATE HIM SO MUCH. I told him that I couldn’t wait for the day that he died. He didn’t say anything. I swear, how the fuck did my parents ever get along? My dad is a fucking apathetic, childish wannabe sultan, and my mom is an infantile, domineering Hitler. Well, they both have childish emotions, and they both want complete control over everything. How sick. Excuse me while I vomit. According to my dad, I have to work to merit anything (food, love, medical care, an education, A FUCKING BACKPACK?) And according to my mother, where I first went wrong was leaving the womb, in her world she needs to control everything about my life and all my friends need to pay tribute to her perfection. They’re both fucking insane. I’ve got to get the fuck out of here.
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