> Miss Kittin and the Hacker - Frank Sinatra, Showgirls, 1982

I LOVE this band, it’s where I stole the name for some of my characters from. I also LOVE the song “Frank Sinatra.” How can you go wrong with lyrics like this:

every night with my star friends
we eat caviar and drink champagne
sniffing in the VIP area
we talk about frank sinatra
you know frank sinatra?
he’s dead
dead

to be famous is so nice
suck my dick
kiss my ass
in limousines we have sex
every night with my famous friends

nice
suck my dick
kiss my ass
so nice
VIP area
frank frank frank frank sinatra

every night with my star friends
shake your body like the dance
stupid smiles and autographs
this is a song for frank
shake your body like the dance
stupid smiles and autographs
evernight with my star friends
in limousines we have sex

motherfuckers are so nice
suck my dick
lick my ass
in the mix we have sex
every night with my famous friends

suck my dick

I’m in love with sassy neo-80s synth. It’s fucking glorious. Miss Kittin has this thick sexy European accent, I’m in love with this band.

Anyway, I want to write this incredibly disturbing story, but I’m not sure I want anyone to read it. Ever. So what’s the point of writing it anyway. I think I’ll just end up turning in what I wrote yesterday on Wednesday. I can’t bring myself to edit that scene. I was loving it when I wrote it, but now I’m bored with it. I want to write something hallucinogenic. I can’t, though. I don’t have a truth to convey. I don’t have a theme…well…other than that life is absurd and meaningless. I guess I could do a Kafka-esque plot. That’s always classic. Maybe I could do it in the form of journal entries? That’s how a lot of my favorite books were written: Anthem, We, 1984, et al. Something is wrong with Blogger’s interface as it displays on my computer, when I hit the “preview” button nothing happens. So my spelling and grammar might take a dive until it decides to work again. Just so you know.

Maybe I could write a story where somebody uses their computer and it’s like, their only link to the outside world, and eventually the person dies and the computer just keeps the IM conversations and e-mails going. That would be cool. OMG. I just found the funniest thing, it’s a make your own porn plot generator! Lol, this was mine:

Busty Undead Blondes
by Darius

There you are, lounging around the Hell’s Angels’ clubhouse wearing nothing but a bustier, garter belt, black stockings and 6″ stiletto heels when suddenly the school bell rings. Surprised, you put fresh batteries in the butt plug and are happy to see four Jehovah’s Witnesses sensuously eating a popsicle. As the cheesy music begins you can’t help yourself, so you masturbate, frightened by the size of the cock that confronts you. Before you know it a car pulls up and it’s all the Playboy centerfolds from the last ten years sucking, fucking, licking and spanking. Being the gracious host, you spank all of them, much to their delight.
The air is thick with the smell of cum as 666 people are now writhing in a pile on the handlebars of a Harley spanking. You’re completely absorbed in it, never having enjoyed so many people spanking at once.

Suddenly you look up and see Barbara Walters staring at you and you grin foolishly. You’re caught! They join in and you have your way with the cheerleaders one last time as the cheesy music fades out.

The End.

LOL. Okay, I must stop procrastinating. Well, I don’t really have anything better to do. Oh yeah, I could read that retarded book.

> Massive Attack - Antistar
> The Cure - Love Song, Pictures of You
> Scissor Sisters - Laura

The speech wasn’t so bad…I actually did really well, I had the audience laughing along with me. I need to work on eye contact though. But I got like a 47 out of fifty. I went last, of course. I didn’t really follow the thing I typed up at all, I just focused on the most salient (and sensational) aspects of my favorite books. Okay, it’s seven. I need to ask my dad for the Internet money. It’s the middle of February and I haven’t collected for January. As if this isn’t evidence enough of how much I dread doing it. Okay, I need to just go out there and do it. I was going to do it, but I got a brownie instead. I don’t even like brownies, that’s how good my brownies are. Tonight I taught my cousin Patty that lives in New Jersey how to set a new picture as her desktop. She liked that. My mom sent me a care package filled with cookies and toys, she’s so nice to me. I’m preparing a box of presents I bought for her. I should get the Internet money so I can send it tomorrow before me and what’s-his-name go to Eureka. I’m sure I won’t have any fun, with my inability to buy stuff. God I love this song “Antistar.” It’s the shiznite.

Can you lick my wounds please
Can you make it numb
And kill the pain like cortizone
And grant me intimacy
How’ll we split your chromosomes

Yeah more sweet narcosis
(i’ll turn a stone i’ll find you)

I turn a stone i’ll find you there
Into reflected light i’ll stare
You blind me with flash bulbs
And puzzle me with syllables

My heads between my knees again
Got needle set to zero
And you can shoot me hurricanes
Don’t spare me the details

Yeah more sweet narcosis
(i’ll turn a stone i’ll find you)

More sweet
More sweet
Iconography fucks with me
You look great in bloodstains

There was more chorus in there, but I hate it when people post song lyrics and it just has the chorus like seven freaking times. It’s annoying.

I didn’t turn in my creative writing assingment today, I felt like it sucked. Josh says I’m too self-deprecating, but I don’t care. I want to write Nausea. I want to write The Stranger, I want to write Breakfast of Champions. But no. I have my crappy dialogue. I hesitate to look at it again. I shouldn’t have used a first-person narrator. I’m not good at showing. I tell. :( I really want to buy Disco Bloodbath, it would entertain me. I need money. I need to ask my dad for his measly $20, I need to edit my Creative Writing assignment and make it not blow.

> Waldorf - You’re My Disco

I’m in the library printing out my creative writing assignment. I really hope that we don’t have to read these out loud, or I am going to be embarrassed. Next time I should avoid the first-person narrator, mostly because mine use too much “colorful language.” Me and Josh made spaghetti and watched this Twilight Zone movie from the 80s. It was okay. But anyway, I should be running along to class now, tata.