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(take your sweet time.)

[03 May 2005|01:04am]
in case you missed it last time, you ungrateful bastards,

so, this one is really new.

add it, i don't fuckin care.


i'm not gonna respond to this, or any other entries here.

ok, so I might reply.


(1 broken rib | take your sweet time.)

[01 May 2005|06:19pm]
all right, then.

(4 broken ribs | take your sweet time.)

[24 Apr 2005|11:11pm]
don't read this wrong, but....

fuuuck you.

get the fuck away!

get the fuck out!

you don't touch me, you're fuckin' *****.

you're a waste of space, get the fuck out.

you know what time it is?


i am so sick of this shit.

(15 broken ribs | take your sweet time.)

Industry's really gone quite a bit off these past few dacades, what a shame. [12 Apr 2005|01:37am]
[ mood | decent. ]

So I am playing guitar for Jack's metal project. He said the butt Pirates, and I said, "let's just name it the Back-Door Bandits and come on stage wearing chaps." (note: not direct quote) So we don't have a name and we need a rhythm/lead guitarist. It'll be rad. I've been wanting to play in a real high school battle of the bands for quite sometime, ever since the first show. And no, most of you aren't invited, it's not like I'd play guitar for you anyways.

Big parties and new people, dire consequences and drug deals gone wrong, trips to the store and the potential that I have developed tetanus, the past week has been crazy. I've still got several phone calls to make, but something feels good about putting them off, as if I can live under the pretense that I never actually made it back all the way.

There is a case and a half of cheap beer under my bed, (Pabst Blue Ribbon, need you ask,) just sitting, waiting for an appropriate moment, one that no doubt has already taken flight.

We used to drink in my room, all the time. That was fun, depraved and twisted (like lou reed's croak), but it was actually all right, and nothing could really hold us back, but we lost a few along the way. I like to think of all of it as if we were a platoon, you know, raiding the bush down in the Ia drang Valley, for a couple years. We took a few hits and lost some kids along the way, but it's all right as long as you're not the one goin home in a body bag, right? You really learn who thinks you're still alive as time passes by. But really, who's actually been in my room in the past 6 months?

I saw Evan's mom today. I actually just remembered that, at Value Village. She didn't notice me, or acknowledge my existance if she did see me, she was on a cell phone, and she had on pants that my mom would totally wear, so I was like, "It's my mom, she'll see I'm not in school, this will suck a whole lot" but part of me didn't really care at all, I was content smoking Singles and wearing sunglasses and riding around in a turquoise truck, but it turned out to be Joanne instead. I hope I spelled that right. Band Cup! What a crazy world.

So I've got a friend who wants to join the Army but can't on account of his mental health history, I've got a friend who plays rock n roll and wants to be a fisherman, I've got a friend who is a fisherman, but wants to be a rock star, I've got a friend who wants to buy a car, and I've got a friend who wants to sell a car, I've got a friend who wants to not feel, I've got a friend who doesn't know how to feel but he would if he could, I have a friend who got fucked over by his habit, but he's making the best of it, and I've got stones to sell and fat to chew, essays to write, things to publish.


(6 broken ribs | take your sweet time.)

Murmurs. [02 Apr 2005|04:57am]
I've finaly woken up in a cold sweat with death on my heels, wispering sweet nothings in my ear. Long story short, I feel as if I was about to die in my sleep like Mitchell the funnyman, who died of an appent heat attack this past thursday.

so, if you didn't know, I am officially back from my skylarkin' in other states universes, like I gave a damn, and it was a perfect world for a little while, but coming back and listening to this, it makes me think. I dig fall, y'know. I dig winter too. I dig walkin' home taking the bus, before I began to feel so tired. like right now. So, I shall resign myself to a broken bed, with a failure of a heart, a failure of an ear, a failure to be strong and work through this prescription. here's to hoping I didn't wash down one too many steriods with alcohol in the past few days.

Drinkin' on the way to the airport, drunk on life all the way home. Over the ocean we go.

Irony: personal experience.

The one thing I have on my person that I can never rid myself of, but will never do me any good is the one thing that causes me the most worry and pain. The one thing that ceases to earn it's keep is the one thing that takes the most. Maybe if it was my knees, I'd feel remotely greatful. Curse human suffering, curse infantile disease.

(4 broken ribs | take your sweet time.)

[08 Mar 2005|11:50pm]
i'm tired of downloads.

i'm tired of the winter chill.

i'm tired of this state.

i'm tired of implied stuff, even though i love making implied requests, demands, statements.

i'm utterly happy.

(10 broken ribs | take your sweet time.)

[07 Mar 2005|11:04am]
hey, does anyone have a joystick i can hae that they don't want, preferably one that connects to a USB port cause i don't want to have to get a goddamn converter.

hit me up, yo.

(3 broken ribs | take your sweet time.)

[02 Mar 2005|02:18am]
[ mood | giddy ]

Incessant wanderings through the backyards of 17th and 125th just lead to places I've been, places I am, places I've seen. and if you know what's good and right in this world you should've seen them too. I realize now I promised his parents the world in their shame and remorse, those good christians staring up to God while Jesus spit on their carpet. So I've seen it all and it was worse when they were having sex in my basement, on the bed and i pretended not to hear, but now all this is just boredom.

You know when you watch someone kill themselves and then listen to them complain that they went through hell and deserve the utmost sympathy on your part but all you can really think is that you deserve an award for just enduring. The only shit that pops out of my mouth these days is "cool, yeah, all right, huh, oh" and I've stil managed to say too much.

Posting sux hardcore.

You all suck. Especially Hale kids. Hale kids really suck. Hale kids and Nova kids. 'Cept for 3 kids from hale and 2 kids from nova. Yes, I will label you by your fucking school, i don't care if you aren't really responsible for the amount of suck your dumb center of education has, you fucking bimbo. Shut the fuck up about all the cool stuff you are going to do and why your life rocks, it doen't rock at all, you just need some muscle relaxers so your face will stop screwing up into a mask of the Creature from the Black Lagoon. Go listen to Rickel Casek blab his little black heart out about some girl he lost in another decade. Shut the fuck up. thanks.

- note from editor um, not to be a real sucker for censorship, but this last paragraph seems a bit out there as far as irrelevance is concerned, so just tone it down a bit, thanks

signed, tom the editor.

(3 broken ribs | take your sweet time.)

[30 Jan 2005|11:44pm]

(3 broken ribs | take your sweet time.)

Hey.. [16 Oct 2004|02:16am]
[ mood | for realious ]

check it, add it, stay fresh.

Hey Paul

rockin it with the tremelo.

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