Smiling is a Disorder

The Land of Dinosaurs

2005-11-04T18:56:11Z

The times that have changed America have often been the most crucial and painful in our nation’s short history. Times like these are often the ones that define a nation in the senses of image, perception, and production qualities. In today’s America senses of image, perception and production are simply ignored or are viewed obsolete. As the decay of these important issues broadens and accelerates, it only leaves one to think of how much longer a nation of such decadence and unraveling can exist.

America is fast becoming a despot country upon the world and refuses to gander at its current domestic issues. This obsession of foreign policy is proving detrimental to the common working man and the lower classes. The common working man is the supply, the heart, and the soul of a country. They define the image, perception and production of a country, and the upper class simply fade into obscurity while their bank accounts grow larger.

This is why many are wondering why we, the common men of America aren’t angry with the way things are going. It seems the blind hopes of tomorrow and the broken promises of yesteryear fester the meaning of today. The voices of the common man have long been silenced through a progression of altering policies that blanks them out from the political and the economic mainstream.

The policies of today’s administration and government are striking a huge blow to our stance as America’s voice. Across the world, we are no longer realized as the roll up the sleeve fighter for justice, but we are viewed as a land of overweight, ignorant creatures who will strike with a reptilian reflex. The working man of America has been replaced with a grudging white collar figure that eats oil and earned money and consumes the souls of people.

While this evil consumption continues, the government sits and laughs as they swirl eyes with false saints and true sins. All the while America sits back and relaxes as their great nation goes deeper into the pit of negativity. America needs to view the world as their mentor. For the past 5 years, we haven’t given a care to what the world thinks of us and country by country we are gaining enemies, and feeding the paranoia of ours and other nations throughout the world.

The only way back to our former glory is through honesty, integrity and hard work. It will take a renaissance for certain to turn it around, but it can be done. The first step is to bring honesty and integrity back into the offices of our land. Common sense will be able to bring a lot back to our country, and all it takes is a spark from us, the common men of America.

All Neapolitans are Librans

2005-10-22T05:53:37Z

In the dark days, just past summer but not quite to the miserable winter, there lies a scene of our common life known as Naples, Italy. The streets that are littered with random fliers promoting strangeness and beauty become filled at random hours during the day with the permanent Librans that have walked the earth for ages.

The age in which these special people live is one that reverts to the ages of giants, as well as the ages of subtlety. In this great mix of life, history and even drama there is a fluidity of life that is certainly interesting to the keen eye. Many of the observations of an average person aren’t in perspective of their own visions, yet the allure of the city either overwhelms or infuriates the person.

The Libran is quite the character. Often times labeled a “snake in the grass” or “dicey” they certainly have colorful, yet dark lives. Librans are also known for their ability to be creative, indecisive and even peaceful diplomats. The streets of this city are filled with these vibes. The air almost carries a scent of imminent conflict, yet subtle resolve within each person, and the scams that are abound are balanced with the occasional street vendor magical make-your-day finding.

The chaotic running of the horse and chariots better known as Piazza Garibaldi is certainly the modern day competition to get nowhere. In the balance, in which the Libran is best known for, there is a grudging respect between each driver. The games of cutthroat, chicken and razor-close are simply a part of life, yet a simple turn can be as easy as flashing the lights before the person in front of you does.

As the observer walks down the street, a free play is being produced on a daily basis. Frantic hand gestures, combined with a flamboyant description process make for an entertaining show. It seems the darkness of under the city stays there while the actors of this perpetual play do what they do best: perform. As the brick-laid sidewalk passes below your feet, the smell of spray paints and unwashed hair seeps into the nostrils. Looking from the aging ground, the painting of a thick, forested hill with a waterfall touches the eye.

Librans are amazing people, but they are also at the same time dark and intellectual. They do prefer to be secretive about these traits, but it is coessential to their life forces. The common script of this city is just that. The darkness of the lonely August nights and the intellectual prowess of even the lowest on the social status go together so well they do not exist during August. It is a city filled with paradox, and one that is filled with paradigms of how life should be lived; unedited and watched by millions.

As the Librans go to sleep at night, they hang their black clothes in their closet. They return to their lover who is passionate of the ever-present artistic beauty of the person lying next to them. This society of Librans will continue to thrive in their own age of perpetual recycling because in a Libran’s life the only thing that changes the life is death.

Yet as the Librans die, their world doesn’t and it’s easy to believe it never will. In a sense, this world they have created is a wonderful place that produces a sense of disconnection from a world that is full of technicalities and facts. This world is one of thriving to further and striving to stay the same. The constant push and pull of these Libran’s lives affects them in such a profound way, an outsider often views it as a inefficiency. It is because only Librans understand Librans and that’s the way this land runs things.

Hello SAD, So Nice To Have You Back.

2005-10-12T18:01:49Z

I knew this day was bound to happen. Seasonal Affective Disorder has once again conquered my Omaha Beach and is taking every bit of happiness I had away little by little. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the condition, it is actually a deficiency of Melatonin (yeah the stuff in your skin.) Apparently this stuff is released during the daytime by your brain and if you are short of it it will depress the hell out of you. So put 2 and 2 together, and you have shorter days+less light=Depressed Eddy.

Oh well, I need to write more, and what better inspiration than that of a deep dark depression that grips you so hard your ribs break. I think this is why I like fall, it gives me a reason to be the other me.

Aside from the sudden in-law esque visit of my SAD, I've been doing decent. Ruffa and I had a little misunderstanding the other day, but we cleared that up over Monday and Tuesday.

I leave for home on the 25th (yay). It will be a frantic attempt to gather as much money, support and fun as I can in 10 action packed days. Vance,James,John and Kyle are all coming in for leave at the same time, so that distant hum that you are hearing is actually Thin Lizzie's "The Boys Are Back In Town". We always get into trouble when we get together.

Speaking of trouble, jesus christ!!!! These apes at work are trying to mast people for not putting in a couple numbers into the computer. Fuck it, if they wanna be Nazis about everything let them. Seig Heil NEMOF.

Bush Speaks to god

2005-10-08T18:31:14Z

Paris Hilton is a Space Alien

2005-10-08T17:54:26Z

I'm convinced. Just Take the makeup off.

Recollections of Childhood

2005-10-03T17:45:58Z

The mind is a wonderful thing. As ages and age progress, it seems our minds become just a little more mysterious and unreadable. I have been contemplating my childhood and teenage years here on the fastly approaching milestone of twenty-one years old. My memory is great, I still can remember my past very vividly. I cherish this ability, because it allows me to regress to a time when things were better, simpler and just more fun.

The earliest of these hazy visions is about Larry. I remember Larry so well because he was one of my father's good friends back in the late 80's and early 90's. Larry was strung out on every drug that existed. The man made Keith Richards look like a chump when it came to consumption. Still, Larry had a big influence in my life because he was where my father wasn't. My father drove a truck, which was a hard life for a family man. This meant he would be gone a week at a time with only weekends off, and those weekends he was en route back home. My father simply wasn't around when I was young.

Larry would used to take my sister and I out to the Buffalo River bridge because there was sand there and we could play in the sand, but he refused to let us get in the water. At an older age, we realized Larry had a mental condition that contributed to his thinking that the river consisted of pure gasoline. The sand was good enough though. I certainly enjoyed it. My four year old mind could run amuck in the vast depression of sand in the ground. I would take my toy dumptruck, backhoe, etc. and literally spend hours digging to no avail, but there was still a sense of accomplishment. It was that four year old mentality that something as small as a hole in the ground has made a difference in the world.

At the end of the days, Larry would take us back home and mother would be waiting at the door for us. Mom always waited for us. She would greet us with towels and thank Larry with an empty grin. Larry would then speed off in his Firebird to his home across the interstate. Mom would then have soup and a grilled cheese waiting on the stove for us. She never failed. My sister and I would have one last fight before we went to shower and sleep.

As the years past, I would spend a lot of time alone. We didn't live around many people, but we did have a lot of animals on the farm. I developed a great relationship with our dog Ebenezer. He was a giant and would help me dig holes in the yard, much to mom's dismay. Ebenezer and I were each other's friend. It is hilarious thumbing through the pictures seeing me riding him like a horse, or him licking me mercilessly. He was the kind of dog that always smiled, no matter what. Ebenezer was killed by a hunter one day who mistaked him for a fawn. When the man brought the dog back to our home, I felt my first form of anguish. That empty feeling, that everything you loved and enjoyed perished into the unknown.

I didn't have much time to frown upon Ebenezer's death, because my first days of school were approaching. At the age of six, I began to develop traits that would stick with me for the rest of my life. The joy of life came in stride, even as a child. I have always felt a form of sadness, but I was too young and primative to realize it. Looking back, it's evident I was a very somber child. I did look forward to school. It was a release for me. By the turning point of becoming a student, my homelife had deteriorated in a rapid fashion. Mother and Father were constantly sparring due to my father quitting his job as a truck driver to be with the family. He took a chance and started a gas station down the road from our house.

Taking a huge risk with his own money, he started Rochelle's BP during my third grade year. It wasn't until then I had truly had a father in my life. He had missed some key points in my life, but he tried, and continues to try to play catch up. Rochelle's BP was a fun place to be. Unlimited pinball games combined with the choice of Tom's peanuts or Little Debbie's cakes with the daily Coke were certain tickets to my presence there. Not only that, there were lots of things that a young boy could do that other boys didn't. At the tender age of 9 I was pumping gas and cussing with Stacy.

I had an elementary school sweetheart named Mandy back in the third grade. She hurt my little boy feelings on the playground one October day. I remember it was October because I had bought a pink-ice ring for her on my birthday with my birthday money. I had 20 dollars to spend on myself, but I bought my first of what would be a long line of heartaches. As I approached Mandy with the ring slipping in between my nervous little fingers, I began to feel confident. I walked up to her and gave her the ring. She snarled her nose at me and her friends began to laugh. In a very angry fashion, I threw the ring across the playground and walked off. I didn't have any friends, come to think of it, I was an elementary loner.

That all changed when I entered Junior High School. I began to loose interest in my studies, and develop more an interest in trying to grow up too fast. My newly found friends and I were the epitome of trouble. I can still remember Roy,Jake,Nick and I out on the playground thumping beehives and running from the bees. I was fat, so I was stung a couple of times due to my lethargic run speed. It was fun, and funny at the same time, because the bees would scare the piss out of the rest of the kids. Countless hours were spent propped against the gym wall writing the preamble to the constitution. To this day the words "We the people" still strike fear into me.

As the year rolled on, I passed the fourth grade. I went from an honor roll student to a get-byer with more focus on my social life. The fifth grade held even more adventures for the four of us. This year, though we had a hot headed black lady named Yovan for our teacher. The slightest caught mistake, and she would snap like a green bean. I did very well through that year, but trouble was still down the pipes. This was the year I figured my crucial ability to take advantage of people. I began to pick on a kid named Brandon. Brandon had some kind of disorder, but to this day we do not know what it is. It must be a family secret. Regardless, Brandon was the constant laughing stock of our class, but it was out of childish cruelty that we played with him.

The sixth grade rolled around with a lot of changes in my life. My sixth grade year was spent honing my computer skills, and chasing Rachel Dougherty. I do not know how I remember her name, but I do. She looked just like Raggedy Anne, but I found it appealing. I was also becoming quite a thief and lier. I do not know why I developed this trait, because the household I came from did not advocate, nor teach it. I just found it compulsive and rather fun. Cheating and lieing became a fact of my life. One day I stole 20 dollars from my father's mantle and took it to school. Jake and I were in English class when he found Nathan Little's bottle of Stetson Cologne. Jake stole it from his desk and we went to the bathroom after class. In what would be one of the funniest times of my Junior High life, Jake Damesworth did the unthinkable.

Upon my offer of giving Jake the 20 dollars, he quickly agreed and drank the bottle of cologne. About three quarters through the bottle, he spewed it out. He downed at least 5 ozs of Stetson cologne. This was incredibly sickening to him. By 6th period, he had turned to the color of chalk. In the middle of the Social Studies Lecture, the door opened wide, and the voice of our principal was emanating through the class. Our presence was requested outside. This was the first time I had been caught doing bad things and I was scared. I lied to try and wiggle my way out of it. I forget exactly what I said, but I do remember Jake looking at me like I was crazy. Regardless, my first paddling and the genesis of my burden on the Humphreys County School System was born.

That summer, I smoked Marijuana for the first time, drank my first drink of alcohol,and that certainly prepared me for the seventh grade. The seventh grade, I met David and Josh. Due to legal problems, I will not mention their last names. I spent my time with these guys, and learned my first true lessons of life. They were 1:Not everyone lives in a pleasant home. 2:Poverty Sucks and 3:Learn who you can stick with, and if you can't,don't. It's simple, they took an innocent church going guy and turned him into a threat to society. I was only 13 or 14 at the time, but we were beating the town up. I lived the rough life, and for some reason I prefered it over my semi-sheltered life back home.

During school, we would shake things up a bit by throwing down a quick swig of alcohol in the locker room. We would almost always enter Health class in an altered state of mind. One day I remember fondly, Mr.Harrison had us outside giving us a lecture on how big of losers we were going to be, and he smelt the liquor on my breath. My mind suddenly felt dizzy, because the penalty of having alcohol at school was a year's expulsion and you wouldn't get to pass the year. This frightened me, but luckily Mr. Harrison thought I was a lost cause and let me go.

The rest of Junior High School was spent on edge about the outcome of tomorrow. A constant game of cat and mouse, and apparently the mouse prevailed. Entering High School, I was full of ambition and blind hope. I had started to really deteriorate in the face of adversity. I literally hadn't been home in months, and I lived with the two people I had modeled myself after. I decided to get stronger ties with my family. When I was integrated back in, I realized how good I had it on that side of the "tracks". My father's business had begun going under, however and he was forced to begin working the farm.

The summer of '99 was spent feeding cows, learning how to operate a tractor, and finding new ties with a totally different group of people. I began to run around with the rednecks, still troublemakers, but we were good o' boys. After a long day in the field we would go down by the same river that I played at as a little boy and we would swing off ropes and drink beer until it was time to go to work. These guys were great crowds to be around, simple men that realized the frailty, and the vibrance of the human being.

I began to calm down by my Junior year in high school and developed into a great Tuba player with a flair for humor. I would still hang out with the boys during the weekend. I put my past behind me and paid more attention to family and life, rather than ruining them. I do not regret the past happenings, but I cherish them, because they have molded me into who I am.

I think it's the realization that the most important journey in one's life is that of their childhood. Something that starts off so simple such as a fight in the house, or a fire set in the yard, or even a sister pinching your cheeks can cause effects felt in adulthood. You cannot let go of your childhood because it is programmed into you, much like the education you recieved during these years. It is an amazing thing when you just sit down and reflect. Sometimes a tear will come to your eye, and sometimes you will erupt in laughter. It's all a part of this beautiful thing that never ends, even when we do.

When I look at my little cousin, I see this empty vessel that can be filled with riches, or with sludge. The riches of life come from the sludge of life. It is this grim observation that keeps my smile permanent and my life fueled. I look forward to filling my child's life full of riches, but I do understand it will take some things that I don't neccessarily agree with to get those riches, but I lived the life that many haven't, and expect nothing different.

It's time to Rant....A Fiery Storm of Cursing and Insults

2005-09-25T04:24:12Z

Ok, this is the final straw. This fucking filter on the government computers is really pissing me off. It's not logical to have these, because in some cases they actually hamper the job, and slow you down by trying to find shortcuts around them. Every standard the Navy, and the government has at this point is on par with their Christian Conservative ass raping lords. I get so fucking pissed when I want to do something as simple as look up a band's review, or in today's case update my journal and I get a "Dan's Guardian:You are too young to see the word shit" message. We are grown fucking adults sitting here. Why is this babysitting still going on. I want to rip my scalp off and burn it in the middle of the floor when I get this shit. It's tools like these that Navy uses to make their ass kissers a little more uneducated so they can control them a little more. I guess this frusteration grows out of the fact that I believe in a non-censored society, and that the government has NO role in restricting what a person can and can't see. They can make all the rules they want, but they cannot censor what the public sees.
---------------------------------------------
I'M THE ONLY ONE THAT FUCKING SEES THIS!!!! - And that pisses me off worse.
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Another thing that is really getting on my nerves is the relentless media coverage of the Hurricanes. I decided I would give network news one last chance, but once again it shows it does 3 things to me 1:/Proves it can't be trusted 2:/Irritates the PISS out of me by broadcasting the same shit every 5 minutes. 3:/Doesn't report things that matter (i.e. "Fat Housewives who complain about the smell of gas, and how it affects their children's Mitochondria" vice "2 Troops Die in an Illegal war by ingesting oil fumes". Who are these fuckers and when will they be hanged? I'm not one for the death penalty but these people really need a L.D. 50 dosage of death. I fucking despise the misinformation mongers in this country, and in others. They cannot possibly believe that smart people aren't on to their tricks!

It seems this life becomes more and more stressful over the stupidest shit every single day, not because of the desire to escape it, but by being forced into it. The military is an inferno of pointless, black bags under your eyes, scream out loud, pain inflicting, head splitting horseshit, but yet I am masochistically drawn to it's allure. It must be the cat and mouse that I play. I love fucking with these sheltered pieces of shit. Only a certain slice of my friends I do not consider the scum of the earth, because they too are human beings.I hate people who think that everyone grew up on their side of the tracks. They don't realize that not everyone had a t.v. esque breakfast and a kiss before they went to school/work. No, some people weren't sheltered to the point of blind arrogance, some grew up seeing the true side of human beings, and it seems that the ones who have are the ones who want better for the human race. Not some suburbia douchebag who's most traumatic life event was falling off his bicycle at the age 5. I despise these lame,tame bowers to anyone. They do not have any self respect for themselves, nor do they for others.These are the same assholes who use rogaine,progaine, anything with "aine" that will make you look just a little bit more plastic. But then again, that's the route America as a whole is taking. Other than a rugged few to refuse to let man control man, and do not let the melted plastic stench of society drown them. These are the people that will be truly saddened at the downfall of humanity as we know it.

Fuck, the rage inside of me is absolutely disheartening. I want to start throwing bricks at people on site, especially people at the NEX. Fucking fat bitches. You can hear them breathing heavily inside before you even enter the store. I do not shop their due to these slimeball lazy self righteous outragously overweight bred-for-breeding whores. Their Husbands are on the same level, and I do not discriminate genders, I call it like I see it. These women are a grim reminder that America is coming to, A overweight cess pool of consumerism slavery. The only workout these people get is 1/childbirth and 2/reaching in their pockets and 3/arguing. Let me tell you what is fueling this. Some slob was behind me when I had my family in the store. I was shopping for my family!!! We had a lot of stuff to pay for, but I was patient with the son of a bitches behind me staring me down and huffing and puffing. I was about to fucking go off when Ruffa touched my arm and shook her head. This red headed gingerbread eating bitch was whispering something. I thought of her face being smashed with a brick and it soothed my nerves. Regardless, I consumed for the betterment of the family. Not for the betterment of the tumor of calories growing around my waist

Fuck the world. That's what I say. I'm going to return to Tennessee and fence my property in and rig that fucker up with a bomb/gun setup that TK would be jealous of. Don't try to stop it, either. Some bearded beast from the wilderness who writes books and eats deer and berries will be fucking your world up. Just as long as I get away from this shit that is making me ever so paranoid and nervous.

The End
Whew
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Vivid Brain

2005-09-20T09:25:02Z

That's exactly what I've had the past couple of weeks. It seems as though my mind is missing something, or it is wanting something it once had. I know this feeling because I used to have it when I'd be on vacation. I think it comes from that subliminal feeling of wanting to go home just for a little while, to see those you always knew but no longer do so. It all started a couple of weeks ago when I was sitting on the bus stop bench downtown waiting on my ride home.

It was a cool night, with the smell of rain arousing the senses. I had just got finished spending the weekend with Ruffa, so I was emotionally,financially and physically drained. We had been in Rome for the weekend and stayed inside with each other throughout the rainy weekend that plagued us. Sitting on the bench, something strange happened. It seemed as if all of the noise around me drained away to the lonesome bullfrog that always sat on the rocks beside the pond. The cityscape was sucked away and replaced with the green fields with the big willow tree that I always climbed and fell off of. One last thing was missing, the clean air. I just couldn't seem to find it.

The roar of the bus came by the stop about thirty minutes later, and I got on. I was the solitaire rider, and it had the same lonesome feeling that it always does. The low moan of the engine sent me back into this weird daze. It seemed these memories were striking me as some from my childhood. They always come and taunt you with the better, carefree days of yesteryear. The hard plastic seat I was sitting in was making me think of the churt pit that Jerry and I would break beer bottles that the high schoolers would throw out. Jerry and I would always have fun together.

Jerry was the son of a drunk lumberjack and a crazy gas station clerk. His brothers Jonathon and Brandon were shipped off to some juvenile detention center in southern Tennessee. I befriended Jerry when his mother was fired from the gas station and began working at the motel that was across the street from my house. Since he was still young, he would tag along with his mother while she worked. There was a small creek out beside my house and I would often times go to it in the search of rocks and crystals to collect. There was never anything in the creek bed, but it was a great activity to get me out and active. This creek is where we met and forged a friendship.

Soon we were a year older and in that creek bed we were still practicing being kids. We had developed a small shanty that was erected with spare wood from my grandfather's wood shop. It was a good escape where we could look at porn and smoke cigarettes, which is exactly what we did. The summer months were spent killing snakes who dared to impede in our operation. The shanty was built at the foot of a drought that had stricken the family farm, but the creekbed remained dry and we didn't have any.........Out to lunch

Put this into Google. You will be amused.

2005-09-10T04:58:49Z

site:whitehouse.gov pussy

President Returns to Crawford

2005-09-05T11:57:01Z

Mynews Agency-Only one week after the landfall of Hurricane Katrina, George W. Bush returned to his Crawford Ranch. Arriving in Waco Texas aboard Airforce One, he was swiftly taken off in a motorcade to the ranch. Political Strategist Karl Rove says it is the beginning of his third vacation, and that "The past week has been especially stressful on the president."

When asked about the Katrina situation outside of a drugstore, the President was adament that help is on the way. "We have nothing to fear, nature can not destroy us, but the terroist can. That's what this is all about, the terroists!" Completing 4 years worth of rhetorical speeches, the president has now said the word terroist more often than the entire population of Israel over a span of a decade.

President Bush's return to the ranch has angered the transplanted residents of New Orleans, saying the President has other things on his mind rather than helping the public. "That's just what they think, they never work, they aren't the president" Bush said. The president then turned to a shrub the width of a pencil and chained it down with his chainsaw.

Mynews Photograph-President Bush Returns to Crawford, pictured here outside of a drugstore.

The Greatest Country in the World, Yet People Will Drown

2005-08-28T20:43:58Z

America, the land of compassion, wealth, and generosity...except when a hurricane strikes, especially a Category 5 such as Katrina.

In case some of you are smart enough not to watch the news repeatedly Katrina is the first Cat 5 storm to hit in almost 40 years (The last being Camille in 1968). Hurricanes of this magnitude are destructive, no matter the setting, location, or situation. Now, putting those 3 things into perspective it is my great fear that this will be an eye opener to just how fragile and disposable we are.

1. The setting- Imagine chaos from a post-apocolyptic movie. Traffic on the interstate, looting in the streets and over all disorder from people trying to escape the terrific beast that is looming in the horizon. It doesn't take much for one animal to turn on another, and to add the excess stress of possibly drowning or dying by nature and there is a firestorm surely to erupt. Keep in mind the temperment of a Cajun.

2.Location-New Orleans is essentially a bowl. In this basin there lies a city 12 by 7 miles and it is literally surrounded and criss-crossed with canals and lakes. Katrina is expected to provide the region with a 28 foot storm surge and at least 12 inches of rain. With those two combined it's a good bet that Tuesday morning New Orleans will look like a bowl of cereal. Much of Southern Louisiana shares the same geographic structure as New Orleans. It's apparent that this region of the country will sustain substantial damage.

3.Situation- The main situation is this. There are still 100,000 people still in New Orleans. Why you ask? It's because they were either too poor to afford transportation out of the city or they didn't have a way (I guess they tie hand in hand, eh) and then you probaly have your people who say "I can ride a hurricane out". Good on em, but it's the man in the street holding his head saying "What am I gonna do?", while his family and friends are relying on him to come up with a game plan. These are the people I share my concern with.

What happened to a helping hand, getting a brother or sister out of certain peril?

Where is our government in this situation? Why aren't buses and vans being used to shuttle these people to higher ground? Questions like this plague me in times like these, and then I realize what is going on. It's another way our government can save money. Lets risk human lives to save some money. Sounds good, eh. So let me get this straight-

The game plan of the government is to pile over 70,000 people into a stadium which is still 10 feet below sea level, mind you and just "hope for the best". Not only that, they told the public to bring enough food, water and medicine for five days! I'm certain groups will be there supplying these things but it is every government's resposiblity to sustain it's citizens in crises, and self suffenciency should be held high on the precedence as well.

After this monster has passed the Louisianans in the storm will have either learned a lesson or perished in one of the greatest natural preperation blunders..ever. We've seen this coming for days, and plenty of time has been given for an effective plan.

It's time to really see the exuberance of these people.

Looks Like the Hyperbole Swayed My Judgement

2005-08-27T23:13:24Z

Entry has been deleted out of respect to the dead/ravaged.

Good Luck Everyone.

I'm One Suave Time Traveler

2005-08-27T19:56:01Z

Today's Back-in-Timer is me in the form of Humphrey Bogart.

I Inherited The Throne!

2005-08-27T04:07:45Z

My Boondock Saints Prowess

2005-08-27T02:15:46Z

Saintly SUPERIORITY
Congratulations! You scored 61!

You kick ass! You did so well, they should name a character after you in the sequel, Boondock Saints II: All Saints Day. Man I can't WAIT to see that movie! Anyhow, congratulations again on a job well done!

My test tracked 1 variable How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 1% on Saintpoints

Link: The Boondock Saints Test written by Wahoogal06 on OkCupid Free Online Dating

On Edge Over Nothing

2005-08-27T01:48:05Z

I stepped outside today to go to work, and noticed the refreshing tint of Autumn teasing me. If anyone knows me well enough, they know that Autumn is my absolute favorite season. To me, it has the scent of sweet decay and the feeling of smooth velvet wrapping the naked body. It doesn't really become Autumn here in Italy until about the beginning of November, and in 2 or 3 weeks it is Winter. It's apparent that Naples has only two seasons. I enjoy the time I do get of this marvelous season.

I usually tie my mood(s) in over the months, and inevitably the seasons. The only months I am truly happy are September and October, and everything after is a downhill slide into the hell I call summer. I hate sweat, heat, and most of all the crowds and overall enthusiasm that accompany the summer months. I did find a glimmer of satisfaction yesterday at Carney Park.

It was beautiful Thursday. The lucid air, green trees against the blue sky. A natural portrait so to speak. Chris and I had decided to attend a picnic, in which Vinson was celebrating his re-enslavement. I rode out with Chris in his newest ride, which is a 88 Mercedes that sounds like a Stuka dive bomber going down the road. "Don't you need to check the engine, it sounds like it has rocks in it" I asked him. "Nah, it's a beast" he said.

Our conversations are usually inane, and go nowhere. I do like Chris a lot because we share the same thoughts on lots of things, and he is very open minded. We laugh a lot at the world and the people running in it, and share the same hatred for Italians. On the way to Carney park we were chatting and some moron pulled out in front of us doing about 140 km/h and I freaked out because he was talking to me and not watching the road. You would expect one to swerve into the other lane or slam on the brakes to avoid a collision, not Chris! He gently swerved in the left lane, but his behavior in the car did not match the action. "Stupid Motherfuckin Italian Peice of SHIT!! *Car Horn* You wanna Fuck with me you fuckin dick face!". Jesus Christ, get me out of this death trap.

We arrived at Carney Park unscathed, and I began the long walk to where all the people I loath (except you and T, mental_debris). "I heard someone got engaged." It was like a sea of silence when I arrived, and all of a sudden this island just popped up and said this. Angela, our command bible thumber was adament on ruining another day of my life within the first 5 minutes of me arriving. It's becoming common for me to just avoid the walking crucifix and give her the notion that I agree just so she will crawl back to her decadent cathedral.

Back to this "natural portrait" I saw. It was just a hill against the blue sky, but it was so beautiful. I couldn't believe I was seeing it here in Hell Land, but it was there in front of me. Then I realized that I was sick from running too much playing football. I ate 2 hamburgers and a hotdog before running. I wish I had just vomited, but I didn't. I went to the picnic table to sit down and hopefully stop the curdleling in my stomach.

On the way home Johnson and I were discussing how mullets should be integrated into genus/phylum/kingdom/etc, much like how animals are. I'll tell you a secret of life. If you are having a dull conversation, or can't come up with something to chat about, then bring the mullet up. It is sure to give you hours of laughter and insight into why someone would do this to themselves. After laughing all the way down the highway we reach the base, and we decide to chill out until I had to go to class. We go to the NEX and buy a case of Miller Lite and we put it in my fridge for it to chill.

I get to class, and our instructer is an eccentric mix of Mr. Rogers and Bozo the clown, and laughs like some maniacal dictator. I didn't like him, he kind of weirded me out. Regardless I get out the class 3 hours early, only to come back to my room and find that Johnson had drank 12 of my beers and at 3 cans of Beanie Weenies and a half loaf of bread. Ticked off was I, but I drank a little myself.

Johnson left about 2 hours later, and I decided to call Ruffa after she had texted me in class. I ran into another trap of jealousy/doubt/fear/and all that good stuff. She decided to make some kind of equation of me not returning a call to me having intercourse with someone. She just doesn't make sense sometimes, but I love that girl like no other. I guess it's the culture thing becoming problematic. Looks like I'm going to have to sit down with her and explain some things.

I finally got her to talk to me last night about 9 o clock, almost 24 hours after I last talked(or lack of) with her. Filipina "Tampo" is nothing to mess with. It will rip a man into, and just when he reaches the point of breaking she comes around and is back to normal. It's a gruesome phase of the relationship! I guess it's better than screaming at you and knocking you around in front of your friends.

Anyway, I'm not really in the thinking mode, I just needed to write tonight. I feel like a giddy schoolgirl because of all the damned coffee I drank earlier. I think I drank the whole pot (vice the 1/4 mental_debris threw out).

It's been a on edge kind of week. I hate those, don't you?

Jesus Makes a Statement on Robertson

2005-08-26T18:30:34Z

Christians, Please Hurry and Drink the Kool-Aid

2005-08-23T18:22:17Z

I do not believe I have any immortality. The greatest evil in the world today is the Christian religion.
-Herbert George Wells

One century ago, H.G. Wells wrote that quote. It's leading me to believe that ever since Christianity's conception whenever ago, it and all other organized religions have been the edge of the blade in the demise of the human race. Even though their mission is large, and impossible they are on a relentless mind capturing campaign. It is currently the Crusades without the swords, and it's going to take a larger collective effort to defeat these evil bastards.

My discourse for Christianity branches off from the belief that one man has his own self. Even if an organization takes everything he owns as far as material and monetary means, he still has himself. He has a brain,heart, and intuition. Why would one subject him or herself to a totalitarian way of thinking? One that limits the usage of everything the beauty of the human body has to offer. Humans are animals, and animals are meant to roam free on this planet that has taken millions and millions of years to create, but inquiring minds intend on enslaving only one species in order to dominate for a purposeless cause.

I feel ashamed, and betrayed that I am a part of the human race. In a sense the lowest slug has more dignity than someone that follows a set religion. I have always said that individualism is the foundation of a mans life. If he is not induvidualistic, then his foundation will become weak and frail, because so many stones on top of your own will cause a slow crack and crumble.

I've become solid in my cause. I have renounced not only Christianity, but all other religions. Though I see Buddhism as a great philosophy and way of life, I will not follow it as a religion. Is my self rightous path one that is bound with peril and tragedy? It very well could be, but there are things that disgust me, and I refuse to be a part of something that makes my lip snarl.

Another Innocent Animal Murdered

2005-08-19T08:43:21Z

A Bengal Tiger was killed yesterday in Kansas when a couple had placed their little daughter beside it in the hopes of obtaining a picture with the animal. On a whim, apparently the tiger attacked the little girl and killed her, and in return it was slaughtered.

Lets break this down. Why kill this tiger? I know it's an argument that has been plagueing man since forever ago, but it's redundant to kill an animal for simply doing it's job, hunting and procreating. Let's put this into a human perspective. A plumber has a specialized job. He fixes pipes,shitters and sinks, and for the benefit of our luxuries he gets a very small share of money. Regardless of monetary value, his place in society, and inevitably nature is "the plumber". Let's say a plumber just finishes fixing your sink. Would you fill him with lead? NO!

Humans are becoming more and more reptillian, it's a regression that has starting hindering us after our stint of Animal Kingdom domination. Everything is done as a reaction it seems. A tiger kills a little girl, kill the tiger in return. Think and ponder the tiger's predicament before you murder the poor animal you fucking redneck pieces of shit. Look at his/her plight.

*The tiger was taken from it's natural habitat, and put into some run down highway attraction, where children and toothless trash can get their picture taken beside a rare, and almost extinct animal.

*The tiger was probaly malnourished, as the vast plains of Kansas cannot keep this animal in peak sustainable condition.

*The owners were probaly undertrained on the management and care of tigers, and possibly even abusive.

*The tiger could have been placed in unorthodox holding facilities, where it's feces and filth added up.

There are so many things that can go wrong with wildlife, I don't see why we always have to risk it.

One positive thing about this, I know the tiger was fed up, and even possibly knew what it had to do to escape it's depression. I do not feel bad for this family. They underestimated nature, and this is their punishment.

At least the tiger died a martyr

When I Don't Know Where I'm Going, I Recite Some Henley.

2005-08-18T04:32:19Z

Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.
In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.
Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.
It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

Dum Dum Da Dummm

2005-08-14T06:20:35Z

Yes you heard right, the bells of a Christian wedding are ringing just over the horizon of my life.

Ruffa returned last Wednsday from the Philippines ending that 1 1/2 month I was fretting about in candid conversations with Heather and gang. Since I had to work in the ASW cell, I couldn't go see her immediately and I'm sure she was jet lagged and all that good stuff from the trip so I decided to leave that notion alone. As the last week passed I was deep in thought, to the point to where functioning became a little more difficult than it usually is for me. I was deep in thought because there was a ring sitting on my cabinet waiting to sit on her finger, and I was thinking if the decision I will make will be the one best suited for us.

The decision came down to last night, when my life became a bumbling, weak-in-the-knees proposal to her.

The day started off by me waking up to the normal chorus of alarm clocks, cell phones, and other gadgets. The myriad of alarm devices in my room are placed in strategic locations to ensure I have to walk a full circle around my room in order to turn them off, and also in order to sling me out of the semi-permanent orbit that usually leads to bed. As I turned all of the annoying beepers off I looked at my ring and said "Today is the day". After all, I see no difference in today or tomorrow, just get the job done. I didn't plan anything special, but I knew what I had to say. The funny part about this is, that it never comes out the way you want it to. I would most likely compare it to a Southern Baptist minister attempting to call a muslim prayer.

We had planned to go to the beach with her friend Jane, which was a trap set up by Ruffa. Although attractive, Jane resembled an Filipina space alien. She also talked a lot about Americans and their mediocre ways. A 25 year old school girl, Jane frequents the base and actually found someone who would accept her as a human being. Good on her.

Once we got to the beach, I noticed the waves were realatively intense, and there was no one in the ocean. The sky was blue, and actually everything was great. It was very peaceful. I put my towel in the sand and began basking in the Mediterranean sun. Since Ruffa was gone, I had put on 10 pounds, so I was a little loos around the edges. "God you are so fat" she said to me. We both had a good laugh. I find humor in myself, and as everything else do not take myself seriously unless absolutely neccessary. Sitting on the beach with her and the family, I began to recite "Wish you were here" by Incubus because burying my feet in the sand spurred the song almost instaneously.

Ruffa's uncles had came out with us and they were certainly a fun crew to be around. We went out into the ocean where they would try to fall into these huge waves and then get tumbled into the ocean floor. I got a good laugh out of them when they would come up choking and coughing from the very salty water. I decided to take advantage of the rough seas and test my swimming out. As I began to paddle out into the deeper part of the ocean, the uncles were yelling "Don't go far, Ed-e." I told them not to worry and come along, it was still shallow. Both of them are under 6 foot, and I didn't take this into consideration. They were trying to touch bottom the whole way out and dipping their heads in the process. After about 10 minutes of being pelted by the waves and having a semi-drowning experience, they decided to get out of the ocean. I followed them.

When we got back to the area where the women were, we discovered they had some egg sandwiches, and I took mine and ate it within seconds. There is something about the ocean that makes my thirst and hunger spike. Not only was I hungry, but also anxious to get the salt taste out of my mouth. It was beginning to get unbearable. Looking at Ruffa, she looked at me and snarled her lip with anger. I had caught a glimpse of Jane in the ocean, but didn't think anything about it. She said "If you like her so much, why don't you go lay beside her". The horror story of the beach was soon to begin, I was sure.

Noting the overall vibe I was getting, I decided to avoid Ruffa for a while. If anyone out there has dated a true Filipina(Not FIL-AM) then they know that the more you talk, the more you get ignored until the "tampo" resides. It's something you have to learn to put up with if you are in a serious relationship, because it is as common as milk in the morning. We went back out in the ocean and learned how to have fun again.

After our short, but great stay at the beach, we then went to Janes house to have a beer and talk about how everything was fucked up. There was a Mexican, 2 Americans and 10 Filipinos in the building at the time. It was a nice little get together, with the other American(Michael) and I trying to teach everyone proper American slang. Our efforts were futile to say the least. Jane's house was very nice. It had a gothic-medieval appeal to it with everything ranging from busts of Greek philosophers and Knight Armor. After a couple of beers a piece it was evident everyone was beginning to get tired. We all picked our things up and left her abode.

As we were walking out of the gate and I noticed there was only one car parked in the driveway. What comes next is definitely a hallmark of my stay here in Italy. There were 9 including myself,Emer,KC,Alan,Alon,Lana,Marisol,Ruffa,and Jane that fit into a Civic 4 door. This was certainly interesting, because the car could only go about 80 kilometers per hour. In Naples,Italy 80 Kilometers+9People=certain tragedy. On top of all that Lana, who is only 1 year old was letting horrendous gas in the back. It isn't customary to scream and shout as we do when we blow gas, so I sat there and suffered.

Ruffa was sitting in my lap, and her butt bone was digging into my bladder. At first this didn't affect me to the slightest, but that Corona began to run it's express course in the worst of situations. I could feel the pins and needles of intense,imminent urination echoing throughout my body. For the sake of just getting back home I didn't say anything. As minutes went by I began to think in my head a good way to make this humorous. I did capitalize. I came up with the system of urination desperation. It is simply a system to use in the urgent need of urination, and the ability to hold it until certain points on the road. Those points include landmarks,signs, and city labels. I actually marked the places ranging from recognition of urination,urine becoming problem,bladder pain,and finally desperation.

We finally rounded Naples to get back to her place where we climbed back up to Marisol's and Alan's self prescribed "Municipal House". They call it this because they are always infested with someone, and I know it has to be nerve-wracking on a newly formed couple. Anyway I had been contemplating how to ask the question all day, and I decided to stick to tradition and simplicity. A bended knee with a confession of undying love would do....but it had to get to that point.

After we had all left Marisol's following dinner, Ruffa and I went downstairs to say goodbye. I began to hold her and make the move. I started off with "I've been thinking a lot while you where gone." and she looked at me with glazed eyes. I could see that she thought I was breaking up with her because she was pouting too. I then pulled the purple velvet case out. I don't think she quite go the jest of the whole situation until I popped the question. So I asked her, and she said "Of Course". My night became ecstatic, almost like some kind of electricity had overtaken it. It's unlike the electricity before a fight, or your first time having sex, it's an electricity that makes you wonder again of that certain mystery that bonds only us humans.

With that being said, I know a lot of talking heads out there will be doing what they do best, discouraging and making derragatory statements against the foundation of marriage. I understand their arguments, and with today's catastrophies we call marriage I can see why they say such things. On the other hand, what affects me doesn't affect them. I have found my best friend, someone that is faithful, true and loving. I couldn't ask for a more beautiful, precious thing and if I had left here without it, I know certainly I wish I would have stayed.

With all that being said, surprises in life often come from none other than yourself. What you thought was normal one day becomes the exact opposite. I am a firm believer in doing what you have set out to do. Sure roadblocks are seemingly endless, but if you want something you take it. The rest is simply management, not like in a business, but more like in a mindful sense. Basically it is grabbing life by the horns and hoping you do not get gored. This endeavor I have sanctioned is a large bull, but it will be easily tamed with time. I have patience, and so does she.

Decadent Men: Nationalists

2005-07-31T15:42:38Z

As I opened up Internet Explorer for my daily routine of shuffling through tidbits of news, a story of 5 more soldiers dying today caught my eye. Even though this war has been ranted on, criticized, supported, deported, and pretty much every verb in the English language, there isn't nothing that has brought the tragedy of this conflict to the forefront of people's lives. Not only is it taking a toll on human lives there, but it is also here. There has to be a sense of doubt in every good-faithed American when they pick up the newspaper and realize that 5 more of our guys have fallen to a senseless, indulgent, hedonistic oligarchy.

The attacks on the governments should be extended far beyond the name, but also into their vast web of contacts, friends, and even associates. In my honest opinion, they are as guilty as the men who started the Oil Crusades. But these attacks should not be subtle, as they have been in the past, nor should they resort to violence. It's a simple uprooting campaign that needs to be enacted as soon as there is a break. The problem is that Americans, or a majority I should say, are one. They are very supportive of the man, and his ways. It's a clear vision that the decay of America has reached a pitch-flamed temperature.

Most people go about bashing the government bashers saying they are disloyal Communists, but there is something they fail to realize. The people who actually care enough for getting new leadership are the ones that care about the constitution, about the liberties that were enacted over 200 years ago. They set forth a goal, a dream that every man(pardon the irony) would live and lead a happy life. Though our nation was built off of sketches and blueprints and needed time to be built correctly, the masters of this nation, up until now, have suited their generation of subordinates. This goes without saying they actually believed in a 3 government system. The people who are protecting the constitution are doing a greater job at protecting the nation than the Nationlists who are hastening the great crumble.

So here I sit, another employee of the Corporated States of America, lambasting everything they stand for and what I'm expected to. There is a sense of loathing that has been casted over me. A sense that we are all working towards a common evil, as Americans. Who would have ever thought this would come out of this country. A country that has been looked up to for almost two centuries, but with a tarnishing image and hatred casted abroad. Our name is on the tip of every person's tongue, and they are viewed as enemies.

Enemies of the State. That's what the current day Thomas Paines, Martin Luther Kings, Sitting Bulls are. They are simply targets of the State before they target the State. This is where the sense of balance in the Corporate States of America is lost. The opposition has fallen off a cliff and is yelling for the powerful to step down off the cliff and join their fall. Their fall from grace was a celebrated victory for the cigar chomping aristocrats who have ruined peoples lives since the beginning of time.

It's a common sense real-time lesson in human nature, I'm sure. That volatile nature that has destroyed us for ages, and continues to destroy everything that keeps us alive. There is no learning in our phylum, no sense of direction, only the urge to destroy what we create. Every animal kingdom has it's cycle of life, and in most it is a beautiful, awe inspiring thing. Ours is a dark, macabre situation bound with the infinite suffering of the unfortunate and the plastic hope of that one day the dream of a better world will be here.

A Little Mickey Joint:Character Introduction

2005-07-28T19:13:37Z

From time to time, I like to write about things that bring humor to me, and others. Not everything in the world is dark, and not everything is absurdly horrible. My friend, Mickey is one of those things. I have mentioned him slightly in earlier postings, but never really have a character introduction. Maybe I should introduce the key players of my current lifestyle and happenings so a further understanding can be met. Here is my story of Mickey. Have fun!

The door to Room 209A opened up to the August heat of Naples Italy. As the door slammed with an airtight boom, I awakened and jumped from my bed. I had been expecting a room mate, but not so early in the morning. I rub the sleep from my eyes and see who is coming in. "Hi, I'm Adolfo" he said with a curious smile. "I just got here you know, so I'm going to try and get some sleep, but it was good meeting you". I was actually dreading the arrival, because the previous two room mates of mine were absolutely horrible. One was a perverted pedophile and the other was absolutely loud and sloppy. I managed to break away from the room occupancy dilemma for almost 4 months and had a studio apartment size room all to myself. Now I had a new person, a new person to make my life a living hell for the next year and a half.

Little did I know that the person that was living next to me was a gentle giant. Within the first week, I had invited Mickey out to town to show him around and try to indulge some kind of sick pleasure in this filthy place, but we wound up having somewhat of an adventure. We hopped on a city bus and went downtown, which was uncharted territory for me at the time and we hopped off at a well known square. As the walking began he began to loosen up and tell me about himself a little bit more. I found him "naturally funny" because of his struggle with English. It's just the normal Latino accent with a tint of word retardation, and you have the speaking style I'm talking about.

This trip was memorable because it was our first little adventure out in town, and we were lost beyond lost. I had the assumption that "Casal" means Castle in Italian (Keep in mind that I wasn't interested in learning the language). We took a bus to Casalnuovo, which I though translated into "New Castle". This showed how much I knew, being that we were dumped in a sub-standard residential district of Naples, Italy. This isn't a place two guys want to be, especially being a foreigner. The bus was shut off from service, so we could not get back to the square our trip originated from. The only choice we had was to start walking towards the center of town and hope we get there without getting injured or shot.

We only had 2 liters of water in the backpack, and the hot Italian sun was beginning to bear down on us. In the heat of the high noon we began to exit the rough looking neighborhood, and enter a row of more upscale abobes. A sense of joy came over me, but I noticed something. Mickey wasn't walking beside me, but he was about 3 feet behind me looking rather sluggish. I stopped and let him catch up and pulled some water from my backpack. "Thank you man, I'm fucking hot" he said tiredly. "I know, we'll make it back shortly, just keep walking" I said.

Continuing down the same street about 2 miles later there was a fruit stand. I dug some Euro from my pocket and purchased a couple of large peaches. I threw my amigo one and we started eating them. Our bodies were apparently craving glucose, and were thanking us for ingesting the sweet nectar of life. As the juice ran down my mouth I wiped it off, and I peered up at a building down a street. I then meandered to the left of the road we had followed for so long. "Where are you going,man?" he asked. "Let's check this out" I said back. So we went down to this house.

After seeing that, absolutely nothing happened, and I was beginning to get fatigued. We decided to hurry our journey home, and decided to hop a bus in the dim hopes that we will return before nightfall.

We finally made it home after a lot of stress and encounters with toothless girls. He was very appreciative of my gesture, and I began to grow fond of him. So far he had been an honorable human being, in the sense that he was respectful, as well as respectable. As the months began to tatter like a worn flag, we were beginning to get to know each other better, and I began to realize the pours of Mickey.

In the late part of the year, I began a campaign of pranking. He being my room mate let me know what I could get away with, and what wouldn't fly in his book. I would do things such as putting face paint on all feasable handles, including the shower, bedroom knobs, sink handles, etc. I also would do very loud antics outside his room to the point where he was going clinically insane. Mickey handled it like a sport though, and would often times scold me in the most feminine fashion. "You know all this is going to come back around to haunt you don't you *Click*" he would crack out loundly. After everything he said, a tongue click would come out, making me realize that he was flaming hot mad. I got a kick out of it, and continued the dirty deeds until he finally snapped.

During the winter months, a depression sat over the 209 complex like a bad case of the plague. We were both pretty down due to not have a active love life, and "changes" that began to cloud the workspace. It was definitely a dark time to be in, and we shared the angst. Mickey held up though. He has that sort of attitude that doesn't waiver, it doesn't prevail, either. It's just there, blindly searching, but not trying to find anything. That's the mystique of Mickey Medrano.

Winter ended with no large pomp and circumstance. Rather it just slid into a Spring that wasn't looked forward to. By now I had calmed down in my ways and finally found a girlfriend out in town, so I was out of the room a lot. His depression persisted. I tried to bring him up by acting like a retard, and most the time it worked. "Eddy you fucking make me laugh" He would often say. Growing more and more feminine, I began to realize something (I can't say what it is, but you know). Everything was explained after this. It was apparent to me that his woes were caused by a "great secret" that he wanted to tell no one. He finally spilled his guts to me, and thus a friendship with trust was born.

Summer has finally rolled around and he is now back to his normal self complaining about the heat, work, and how everything happening in the Navy is "Politeeks". I believe that Medrano has shown me that someone who is totally different from you, is actually the same as you. It's the mystery of being a human, it's the way we search for what we long for, what we need to live happily. It's a search for understanding, compassion, and understanding in his case. Regardless of the vices this man carries, he has my respect because of his genorosity,humor, and spririt. Some people find weakness as a flaw, but all in all, we are all flawed, aren't we?

If I were a LJ Pirate....

2005-07-24T18:26:10Z

Your LiveJournal Pirate Crew
LiveJournal Username
Fifteen men on a dead man's chest!
Cutlass or pistol?
What is the name of your pirate ship?
Where is your secret pirate base?
What kind of loot do you prefer?
What do you and your crew prefer to be called?
Parrot or monkey?
Argh!

Your capable first mate	ambersarchives
Your bumbling cabin boy with a heart of gold	ambersarchives
The aloof, yet honorable, pirate with a mysterious past	deviantbreed
Is always the first one into the fray	deviantbreed
Is the naval officer who ruthlessly pursues your ship	ambersarchives
Is the comical pirate who is always drunk on grog	deviantbreed
Is currently in Davy Jones's locker	deliritori
The amount of money you make as a pirate	$159,012


This Fun Quiz created by Lynn at BlogQuiz.Net

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Milking the Brain

2005-07-13T18:44:46Z

I woke up a couple of mornings ago to the sounds of talking outside of my room. Being aroused by this nature usually doesn't suit me to well, because I am a high tempered person in the morning. I began to rub my eyes to get the painful dryness erased from my contacts. I didn't have time to get to my left eye because a thunderous knock came over the center of my door. Still being half awake, my heart sank like it always does when something startles me. I then wake up completely to answer the door. Crawling out of bed, my atrophic muscles felt like they had been through a heavy night of drinking, but I had did nothing the night before other than watch a movie with friends.

I went to my dark green door that does a marvelous job of keeping the high pitched screeches of jet engines from entering my room. As I put my hand out to turn the handle, the knock came again. I pulled the door to a slit in a somber manner and the light hit my unaccustomed eyes with a ferocity comparable to walking through a petroleum fire. "Got a room inspection today," I heard a voice say. Comtempt rose in my body to the point to where I wanted to use violence on this little man. I calmed myself when one of my superiors said "He's in between a mid-watch,so he's exempt." I then turned back to my tumbled bed and realized I wouldn't see sleep until I got off of work the next morning. I walked wearily into the kitchen area and poored a bowl of cereal. As I sat the box down on the counter I noticed a single ant crawling along. Some simple creature I thought to myself, one mission in life and it has trouble completing even that. I found myself being arrogant as a human being to a creature that is smaller than a hair on my arm. Using this analogy made me feel pretty weak and selfish, but that ant crawling along the counter opened up some kind of fascination to keep my day moving.

After having that daily eye opener, I reached for the milk and poured it. I didn't notice that a little was dripping off the bottom, as it commonly does. As the pearly white liquid dripped from the carton I saw a tragic contrast, the ant had perished in the wake of one drop of milk. Most people would shrug the death of an ant off, but this ant was in some shape special to me. It wasn't special in the sense that I wanted to keep it forever and run through Lily covered fields with it gleefully. I would have rather blessed this creature the way it did me with this forming cloud in my brain. I shrugged it off and washed the remains of the milk, and that of the ant up off of the counter.

As I began to eat my cereal, I began to think more. Thinking in the morning is a good mental breakfast. It gives me inspiration to get to the next hour in the hope that this thought spurred by something such as an ant will grow into this large philosophy that metamorphasized within a day. Finishing the cereal I retired to my room and sat in my recliner and turned the news on.Of course death,destruction,and mayhem were being inflicted in the world, but I felt a little comforted in the fact that the killers were thinning each other out. It's a part of our natural being here on earth, being an animal in this huge kingdom in which we think we rule.

As the day progressed the ant had disappeared from my mind, but our current standing didn't. I realized that the proverbial mil is spilling on lots of people each day, and they are simply working to better their colony, to please their queen ant. This renegade ant, in my room, causing me all this grief was simply supplying for himself, or so I am assuming. As my thoughts gathered maturity, I came to this question:"If we seperate from the "colony" can we survive?" This question has been asked forever, but in my own experience I say no.

I began to seperate myself from something I became a part of, my colony so to speak. I have no face,no voice now. I simply have some sort of induvidualist outlook, while the colony continues it's routine. Day to day, they trudge in while I do the same, it's in a more dreading sense though. I feel like I am meeting my death each day I turn the turners and meeting life for the first time when I depart them. It's the reality of life being sucked from you. It's deep,introverted interactions one can't put on paper that describes the feeling of the outcast.

Enough of that pyscho-babble.