leningrad

(I'm going to leave this one up for a while, just to see what everyone says. Be honest.)

What am I to you?

Feeling good. Some projects I've been meaning to finish for some time got finished. Completion is a good feeling, I'd say.

My fingers are numb from playing my new guitar, which is just awesome, I can play some dorky shit, and about three chords, and mangle my way through Blitzkrieg Bop. I sound like every moron who has had a guitar for two days but...
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I had a fun birthday. Thanks everyone, it's been a long while since I've had one of those.

Otanjyobi desu yo.

The wind is howling outside while I write this. The part of me that rejoices in natures ability to wreck stuff is excited. The part of me that doesn't like feeling like my windows are a few good gusts away from shattering in isn't, so much. I do love the snow though.

I now officially own my first apple product. I feel dirty, but it's...
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It's snowing!

The weather is perfect right now. This is exactly what I want the weather to be like all winter long. A little snow, dusting everything. Snowballs. Chilly, but not freezing.

My inner viking rejoices in the snow.

Now the lights are flickering. This is awesome. Go snow!

I am feeling perplexed. I can't say why, but every moment I stay awake tonight is making me more and more unsure of something. Or maybe nothing. I am acutely aware of my own existence, and it seems to make me uncomfortable.

Uncanny.

new pics.

I feel as though all efforts to accomplish something concrete fall through. Last night I dragged what felt like a thousand pounds of laundry to the laundromat to find that the change machine was out of order. I do not like being foiled.

I got a raise, and should be a rich man for a month or two. Which pleases me. It's also my birthday,...
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To continue the trend;

Live From The Russian Compound

Cowboy lawman-found a cell
Tore into it-as night fell

Bankers kids are
getting bingo'd
Smells like midnight's
cooked up a storm in here
Leave those loose lips
at home or at the
rubble that's left
when you return

Have an armed guard posted at your flag
Stroll through town with
a gun stuffed in your pants...
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How To Build A Pessimistic Lie Detector;

cracking skulls, tearing flesh. have another heart attack.

send 'em in, send 'em in, why don't you try pushing all the goddamn buttons. maybe just one of them will suffice.

go back to the golf course. if the shoe fits, fuck it. confidence minimally confirmed, the more unsuspecting conclusions occur. self model shoe-switching correlation may be dyslexic. folded...
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