About an hour ago one of my little sisters came in the door, started up the steps, and then I hear her screaming bloody murder and come rushing down the stairs. My response was as follows.
1. Grab short sword.
2. Charge out of my room to slay/hack/maim in the defense of my family.
It turns out that the offending party was a tiny house...
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1. Grab short sword.
2. Charge out of my room to slay/hack/maim in the defense of my family.
It turns out that the offending party was a tiny house...
Read More
Happy Valentine's day.
Now if you'll excuse me I'll be alternately whacking off and stewing morbidly in my own self-loathing.
(NOTE: If this journal entry were an engrish T-shirt it would be bright fuck-off pink and covered in roses and smiling puppies.)
PPS.
Silkroadonline.net is the place to go for a free MMORPG. Why am I pimping this game? Because I want to raise an...
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Now if you'll excuse me I'll be alternately whacking off and stewing morbidly in my own self-loathing.
(NOTE: If this journal entry were an engrish T-shirt it would be bright fuck-off pink and covered in roses and smiling puppies.)
PPS.
Silkroadonline.net is the place to go for a free MMORPG. Why am I pimping this game? Because I want to raise an...
Read More
Choclate cake is enticing like the devil, and I could not resist it's siren call.
It's a good thing I can't bake, or I'd be in choclate rehab by now.
It's a good thing I can't bake, or I'd be in choclate rehab by now.
tonkakatt:
damn you and your chocolate cake...damn you both straight hell. now I want cake AND ice cream 
starfior:
how the fucking shit did you sign in? Where did you register your shit. goddammit!!!
Somebody love me. This isn't even connected to Valentine's day. I'm just lonely and sick of relationship after relationship that crashes on take off. I'm so far past desperate that I'm at piece with my complete inability to make romance work for me. It's fucking zen. I am zen jaded. I could meditate on the multiplicity of ways that things just aren't going the way...
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I looked through the newspaper and craigslist for job listings. I found a lot of jobs that I'm not suited for, and a lot of bogus offerings. I also got a case of stomach nots and a profound desire to hide under something defensible.
My head is a strange place to live.
My head is a strange place to live.
I react to stress by hiding in my room and giggling in a depraved manner. It is not helpful or productive.
Ki-Riist. Sigh.
On the one hand, I have the most spankingly awesome living conditions a guy could ask for, provided he was okay with the fact that he was twenty, unemployed, and living in his parents basement.
On the other hand, I'm distinctly lonely, because Anchorage has all the culture and nightlife of a soviet gulag right after the vodka shipment came in.
On the one hand, I have the most spankingly awesome living conditions a guy could ask for, provided he was okay with the fact that he was twenty, unemployed, and living in his parents basement.
On the other hand, I'm distinctly lonely, because Anchorage has all the culture and nightlife of a soviet gulag right after the vodka shipment came in.
tinyelvis:
Buck up camper.
it's just a phase
it's just a phase
I just had the weirdest fucking set of dreams. We're talking some seriously left turn at Kadath stuff here. Along with conversations with people who don't exist in real life I had a house turn into an animated tower and go charging around with me on top of it, things disapearing on me, enormous cartoon monsters wandering through the woods a mile distant, Roads doing...
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My brain hurts from accumulated rage and frustration, and I don't have a rage-defusing-rod handy to vent off the excess rage. If I just had a rage-bottle I could store the rage and sell it to a passing berserker, who could then use it to go berserk if he needed to tear some arms off and was having a really mellow day.
pensquare:
Considering the stigma unprovoked melee combat has aquired everywhere other than reality-TV shows, I submit that selling Mirth in small doses may be more profitable. As I understand it, the natives call it "beer."
Not that rage potion doesn't already exist. Pass cheap tequila around amongst peers that are already drunk enough to impair motor function, and you can recreate the church scene from 28 Days Later on the second floor of the freshman dorm. Go ahead and give that priest a good whack! He won't remember crap when he wakes up!
Not that rage potion doesn't already exist. Pass cheap tequila around amongst peers that are already drunk enough to impair motor function, and you can recreate the church scene from 28 Days Later on the second floor of the freshman dorm. Go ahead and give that priest a good whack! He won't remember crap when he wakes up!
I am so fucking tired. I am also back in Alaska, with some of my swords and most of my clothes and my more powerful computer. And I have so fucking much to do.
Rock along gently, my friends.
Rock along gently, my friends.
fatality:
Welcome to the Halo!