I am an new-post-updating motherfucka.
There were 3 interesting things that happened today:
Work was the quietest, slowest day in a very long time. I had time to listen to three whole albums straight through uninterrupted. Unearth: The Oncoming Storm, Dark Tranquility: Character, and It Dies Today: The Caitiff Choir. It was actually kinda fun to rock out and do preparations for tonight all by myself. I wouldn't normally rate that as interesting other than the fact that it's all I've really got to talk about. I did commit to there being THREE interesting things.
I read the newest Cosmo magazine with this uber-fly attached woman, making fun of how stupid the women that magazine caters to are whilst cracking jokes about the subject matter. Ten things not to do infront of your guy: Don't "poop" with the bathroom door open, and while showering together don't do a quick once over your armpits and your "private area" with his face razor. Those being 2 of the tenn things, I had to laugh at how some magazines still try to uphold the fucking Victorian-era ideals held of a woman. Personally I think it would be very much a turn on if my girl/ a girl was in the shower with me, grabbed my razor while smiling at me and decided to shave ANYTHING infront of me. Because my exes have been uptight and/or had smelly odors I care not to think about.
I've finally discovered the ultimate trick to maintaining the longevity of a relationship. The trick is to not ask her three specific questions: "Where do you see us in five years," "How was it," and "My ex..." I mean, it's a good thing the last few times I had some loving we were both too out of breath for petty conversation, otherwise I might have asked those burning questions. God damnit, people think they are so smart and have the right to peddle their damaged, garage-sale wisdom to others because it worked once for them. What's next, masturbate with a frozen hotdog to relieve menstrual cramps? The advice keeps getting better from here on out.
Did you know my problem is that I think too much? I'm too analytical. I should just turn the gas on the stove down a little bit. It intimidates most girls. ... maybe that's the idea Nostradamus. Maybe it's my defense mechanism for not ending up with another girl who can't act her age, can't get a handle on her vices, can pretend like she loves me for a longer period of time, or doesn't know her head from her ass... etc. I don't fully empathise with this statement, but I can't understand why some men turn gay. Myself? I'd miss the female shape far too much. Men are not pretty creatures no matter how you shape it up. It's not unlike tryin to sculpt a woman out of clay, and a man out of vanilla pudding. The ideal does not hold up.
I'm not sure what the deal with my fixation on the number three is.
Maybe I just need to have some raging animal sex to work the frustrating lack of focus out. Finger nails, hot wax (or melting crayons, as 143crayons told me about), and some slapping and choking.
Speaking of choking, I don't think asphyxiation has the same pleasant feeling on me as it seems to for women. Maybe it's just more psychologically enticing and I'm unaffected by most things psychologically erotic. I'm limited to the thought of a naked woman. I can't even remember her face after I don't see it anymore, just the body.
I'm kidding, I couldn't HOPE to be that shallow
I need to head up to the massage therapy place by my work. It's so convenient and I very much need a massage. It's been ages.
NIN's new album With Teeth came out today and I absolutely fucking forgot. I'll purchase the DualDisc tommorrow. Can't wait...!
_________
Tracing your words with my fingertips
Terribly awake in these dark, lonely, sacred hours
That blinding L.C.D. reminding me constantly
with every minute I stare, passing
trying to remember a home that I don't (not really)
This tape rolls on and the names of these songs escape me
I'll never know why they remind me of you
Everything reminds me of you
tears mostly, roll with the music
Hands soaked with saline don't do much for this headache
Wish I could find the words to say
As this of letters and fanzines helps pass the time away.
Why do I waste this time?
As glass in my eyes
works its way to the
back of my neck
I'll find solace
scratching the parchment with this pen
There were 3 interesting things that happened today:
Work was the quietest, slowest day in a very long time. I had time to listen to three whole albums straight through uninterrupted. Unearth: The Oncoming Storm, Dark Tranquility: Character, and It Dies Today: The Caitiff Choir. It was actually kinda fun to rock out and do preparations for tonight all by myself. I wouldn't normally rate that as interesting other than the fact that it's all I've really got to talk about. I did commit to there being THREE interesting things.
I read the newest Cosmo magazine with this uber-fly attached woman, making fun of how stupid the women that magazine caters to are whilst cracking jokes about the subject matter. Ten things not to do infront of your guy: Don't "poop" with the bathroom door open, and while showering together don't do a quick once over your armpits and your "private area" with his face razor. Those being 2 of the tenn things, I had to laugh at how some magazines still try to uphold the fucking Victorian-era ideals held of a woman. Personally I think it would be very much a turn on if my girl/ a girl was in the shower with me, grabbed my razor while smiling at me and decided to shave ANYTHING infront of me. Because my exes have been uptight and/or had smelly odors I care not to think about.
I've finally discovered the ultimate trick to maintaining the longevity of a relationship. The trick is to not ask her three specific questions: "Where do you see us in five years," "How was it," and "My ex..." I mean, it's a good thing the last few times I had some loving we were both too out of breath for petty conversation, otherwise I might have asked those burning questions. God damnit, people think they are so smart and have the right to peddle their damaged, garage-sale wisdom to others because it worked once for them. What's next, masturbate with a frozen hotdog to relieve menstrual cramps? The advice keeps getting better from here on out.
Did you know my problem is that I think too much? I'm too analytical. I should just turn the gas on the stove down a little bit. It intimidates most girls. ... maybe that's the idea Nostradamus. Maybe it's my defense mechanism for not ending up with another girl who can't act her age, can't get a handle on her vices, can pretend like she loves me for a longer period of time, or doesn't know her head from her ass... etc. I don't fully empathise with this statement, but I can't understand why some men turn gay. Myself? I'd miss the female shape far too much. Men are not pretty creatures no matter how you shape it up. It's not unlike tryin to sculpt a woman out of clay, and a man out of vanilla pudding. The ideal does not hold up.
I'm not sure what the deal with my fixation on the number three is.
Maybe I just need to have some raging animal sex to work the frustrating lack of focus out. Finger nails, hot wax (or melting crayons, as 143crayons told me about), and some slapping and choking.
Speaking of choking, I don't think asphyxiation has the same pleasant feeling on me as it seems to for women. Maybe it's just more psychologically enticing and I'm unaffected by most things psychologically erotic. I'm limited to the thought of a naked woman. I can't even remember her face after I don't see it anymore, just the body.
I'm kidding, I couldn't HOPE to be that shallow
I need to head up to the massage therapy place by my work. It's so convenient and I very much need a massage. It's been ages.
NIN's new album With Teeth came out today and I absolutely fucking forgot. I'll purchase the DualDisc tommorrow. Can't wait...!
_________
Tracing your words with my fingertips
Terribly awake in these dark, lonely, sacred hours
That blinding L.C.D. reminding me constantly
with every minute I stare, passing
trying to remember a home that I don't (not really)
This tape rolls on and the names of these songs escape me
I'll never know why they remind me of you
Everything reminds me of you
tears mostly, roll with the music
Hands soaked with saline don't do much for this headache
Wish I could find the words to say
As this of letters and fanzines helps pass the time away.
Why do I waste this time?
As glass in my eyes
works its way to the
back of my neck
I'll find solace
scratching the parchment with this pen
techno_ballerina:
that new place in that shopping center? are they good/how much are they? i considered going to logan, i've been getting some neck problems from work, but i don't want some docs poking at me.