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Nov. 13th, 2003 08:23 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vicarzWoke up to an explosion this early AM, and groggily realized the power was out. It’s going to be a long painful sleepy day. Skim milk, apple jacks, and diet coke do not make breakfast. I was walking around with a lit candle when the scene from 28 days came to me - diseased loon crashing through the window seems much more conceivable in the wee hours o’ the morn. The idiocy of using a candle during the holocaust made more sense as I walked around my familiar house, fully aware that the power was out, reflexively flicking on light switches as I entered each room. Just as I was leaving the power returned. Fuck you right back.
Last night I discovered I still have the stillborn doggy album “Bites & Remission” on CD. Guess I was lucky to pick it up, now they are sold as two albums. Amazing how good that old music is. Want to be a snob about the idiotic tripe that passes itself off these days? Listen to the vocabulary in a Bauhaus or Skinny Pup song and compare it to...well anything since 1990. Sad. Learn to read, kids.
Marilyn Manson claims to read Plato. Yeah, so did Otto in “A fish called Wanda.”
Pretty elitist statements from someone that laughed at South Park last night.
Notes from the metro
1. Dear 40 year old and under people in the ‘Priority Seating for Senior/Disabled’ seats: please look up and see the elderly man with a cane hanging onto the pole in front of you. Get the fuck out of your seat.
2. random guy - stop putting your hand on the seat in front of you. Go piss on a tree if you want to claim you own something.
3. shoving your newspaper in the crack between the seat and the wall is not being considerate. Discover the recycling bin, scumbag.
4. please shower before riding public transportation
5. please don’t share your digestive gases with us. What is that, rotten eggs w/ sausage? It’s a sealed fucking car, good god.
6. clipping nails, putting on makeup, picking your nose, hocking loogies, and loud snorting noises will get you shoved under the moving car
7. no one is impressed by the complexity, tonal variations, or novelty of your cell-phone ringer. No, I really mean that. Yes, everyone knows that ring. Yes, we know it’s a new phone. No, we really don’t care. No, we don’t find you clever.
8. I forget what 8 was for
9. I may suck at football, but my shoulder will be an effective check on my way out the door of the car if you don’t feel like waiting for people to exit
10. I’m sure you’re horribly important, but if you try to read your unfolded paper in this standing room only car, we’re going to use your blood to paper-mache that thing to your face.
Last night I discovered I still have the stillborn doggy album “Bites & Remission” on CD. Guess I was lucky to pick it up, now they are sold as two albums. Amazing how good that old music is. Want to be a snob about the idiotic tripe that passes itself off these days? Listen to the vocabulary in a Bauhaus or Skinny Pup song and compare it to...well anything since 1990. Sad. Learn to read, kids.
Marilyn Manson claims to read Plato. Yeah, so did Otto in “A fish called Wanda.”
Pretty elitist statements from someone that laughed at South Park last night.
Notes from the metro
1. Dear 40 year old and under people in the ‘Priority Seating for Senior/Disabled’ seats: please look up and see the elderly man with a cane hanging onto the pole in front of you. Get the fuck out of your seat.
2. random guy - stop putting your hand on the seat in front of you. Go piss on a tree if you want to claim you own something.
3. shoving your newspaper in the crack between the seat and the wall is not being considerate. Discover the recycling bin, scumbag.
4. please shower before riding public transportation
5. please don’t share your digestive gases with us. What is that, rotten eggs w/ sausage? It’s a sealed fucking car, good god.
6. clipping nails, putting on makeup, picking your nose, hocking loogies, and loud snorting noises will get you shoved under the moving car
7. no one is impressed by the complexity, tonal variations, or novelty of your cell-phone ringer. No, I really mean that. Yes, everyone knows that ring. Yes, we know it’s a new phone. No, we really don’t care. No, we don’t find you clever.
8. I forget what 8 was for
9. I may suck at football, but my shoulder will be an effective check on my way out the door of the car if you don’t feel like waiting for people to exit
10. I’m sure you’re horribly important, but if you try to read your unfolded paper in this standing room only car, we’re going to use your blood to paper-mache that thing to your face.
