william_miller

"While Mona Lisas and mad hatters, sons of bankers, sons of lawyers, turn around and say 'good morning' to the night -- for unless they see the sky, but they can't and that is why -- they don't know if it's dark outside or light."

Bernie Taupin. Untrained, over-inspired genius. Cameron Crowe. Untrained, super-crazed auteur genius.

I wish I could actually find a shot of William running around Times Square with hundreds of yellow cabs surrounding him.

Wednesday night - found another reason to hate Fantastic Four. It tried to kill me. Our good movies don't do that.

Thursday night - rediscovered my sense of humor. It rolled under a Studebaker.



Fucking Studebakers. What with their old-school hood design and classic style. Stealing my sense of humor and such.

I think I've made Ioana's "fling" jealous, or at least insecure about Ioana and where her heart lies. Which is far too common among people that don't really know me. I'm good at that without even trying -- I just never end up with the girl. I explained the soda can incident to her (where my friends joined the site, found my SuicideBoys photoset, and photocopied it -- and then put it on most of the 120 cans of Mountain Dew of a certain Dew addict), and it ended up being a discussion about self-esteem and your own body. I don't think I have a great body at all, and yet I felt I could throw myself onto the Internet with my bare ass. She doesn't feel secure enough to even take a nude shot for herself, let alone another person ever. Which is kind of ass backwards. She should feel comfortable in her body, since most every inch of her is beautiful. The male body is , when you think about it. It all comes down to the penis, really, doesn't it? The thing juts out, pokes around like it's a dowsing rod. A woman's crotch sort of just fades, curves, which is what makes it more pleasant to look at. It's not like you're looking down and suddenly, someone's popped up to say hello. Not on a woman. On a woman, it's more like a goodbye. So you want it more.

But, anyway. So the guy, the "fling" obviously wants Ioana in bed. And I bet he thinks I'm somehow holding that back. I very well could be. Which would be great. Fuck that aggressive bastard. Strawberry Fields is shut down to all except one tenant. I'm just the guard hired to stop snooping kids like him from breaking in.

That is the best metaphor ever. I should end this like that.