| Soda Crackers |
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| 12:07am 04/08/2009 |
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Who the fuck would buy unsalted soda crackers? Seriously? You know who? Someone who didn't read the label. I'm not saying I did, but I just found some properly salted ones and by god have I missed these. For awhile, unsalted. What the fuck? They are just wheat otherwise, what's the point? |
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(3 People Have Talked | Feel Like Talking?) |
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| Post-Script. |
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| 01:11pm 07/07/2009 |
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And the river crashes on the rocks,
there I see her again.
The sudden cloud of water fades
she with it;
My ghost; My shade.
She haunts my sleep.
Hades is her home,
Pluto her lover
and I, and I am haunted.
My lids grow heavy like lead
dragging my soul
down to her world.
The weight is gone
my eyes open and my senses aware
a sea of green greets me
a whisper carried by the wind calls,
"can you hear me, love?"
To the west the great orb is drug below
his sister rises from her burrow in the east
casting all I can see in twilight.
Long shadows from an unseen force
stretch toward me like vines
the first reaches my feet and
her voice calls louder
"can you hear me, love?"
Compelled to move
I start west.
The orb is long gone now
my world is shadow
still I move west.
Toward her: my ghost, my shade.
The sea of green breaks against the forest
there I stopped.
I looked about my surroundings
the way back, lost to the night.
The way forward a labyrinth of wood.
I peer into darkened woods
and my eye catches the glimmer of a light.
My feet stretch and fall forward without a thought
bringing me into the home of imagination. |
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(2 People Have Talked | Feel Like Talking?) |
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| Didn't want it, didn't need it, but we knew that we could steal it. |
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| 03:31pm 09/02/2009 |
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Rain spatters against the mud. Eyes open. Blurred vision. Two figures. Water rolls down his bare back, black hair hangs down his face. His blood mixes with the muddy waters beneath his stomach. His reflection stained and staring back at him. A cough; a stutter. Another fist connects with the side of his face, flesh ripples as a rock drops into a pond. Two figures watch. Watch him flop in the mud. A command, "get up." He pushes down against the mud; sinking to his shoulders. One figure places a boot against him; he rolls his victim on his back. |
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(Feel Like Talking?) |
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| 03:26am 24/01/2009 |
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An update? At this time of day? What in the Hindu god's names could I be doing up now? I'll tell you what, not sleeping. My room is far too cold. I left the window open before we, Mike, Kris, Jon and Miller, went and saw Fear and Loathing. That movie is still hilarious. But it is late, Mel Gibson is crazy go nuts, and I'm out. |
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(Feel Like Talking?) |
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| Change of plans. |
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| 02:47pm 19/01/2009 |
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Friends! Romans! Vertebrates!
I am no longer looking for a bookshelf. Now I seek Cinder blocks bricks and plywood. I shall construct my own bookshelf. One for my own needs. Yes, my needs. So if you have any or know someone who has some. Hook a brother up. |
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(Feel Like Talking?) |
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| Bookshelf. |
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| 05:23pm 13/01/2009 |
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What up. Livejournal bitches. I'm looking for a large bookshelf: five feet high (give or take), three feet wide (four max), and I'm not really too concerned about its wood content. I mean I obviously want a wooden bookshelf, that is a given, but I don't really care what kind of wood. So, what I'm getting at is, if anyone is either trying to get rid of a shelf or knows someone who is. Drop me a line. Thanks! |
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(3 People Have Talked | Feel Like Talking?) |
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| 2277 - God I Hate Ghouls |
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| 04:36pm 17/12/2008 |
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So there I am. I'm wandering the burnt out ruins of downtown Washington D.C. I know, a normal day in the wastes; at least that is what I thought was going on. I come up out of the sewer, after killing about thirteen feral ghouls and by God I hate those things. They sit there in the dark and all you can hear is heavy breathing and then a guttural growl and finally you have a ghoul in your face crying for your blood. It is frightening every time, the light on my pip-boy is never enough to light a good area to see the damn things, and I jump a little bit every time I hear their growl. Today, I explored the Capital Building. I had no idea it was so large and full of Super Mutants. At least the ghouls are small and they die pretty quickly, but the Super Mutants are huge, stupid, but huge. As we know big and stupid things are dangerous. I managed to clean out the place. I did not find much of anything interesting in the building. A few books, but that was about it. Oh. I suppose there was that Mutant Behemoth. The Super Mutants might be big and dumb, but the Behemoth is monstrous. The damned thing walks around wielding a fire hydrant still attached to the water pipes. I managed to kill it and get out. There was of course the weird a weird incident near Pennsylvania Avenue. I'm wandering around and suddenly this voice echoes off the rubble. The guy is screaming about some sort of giant worm eating the planet. He is losing his shit in the ruins of a building. I found this other guy, scared out of his wits, hanging about. I asked him what was going on and it turns out that crazy worm guy has rigged the alleyway I'm staring down with explosives. Explosives he of course controls from up in his rubble, a place I cannot get to. So I do the next best thing, I convinced the frightened guy to go talk this guy down. That plan backfired when Sir. Crazy set off the explosives and ended his life and the other guys. I quietly backed away. And thus ends another day in the wastes. |
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(Feel Like Talking?) |
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| The Television Wasteland |
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| 09:56am 16/12/2008 |
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The television world has suffered greatly the last few years, at least I think so. I feel like I'm wandering an endless desert and once in awhile I will find an oasis to fill myself with entertainment. The seasons of television shows is getting shorter and shorter. How I Met Your Mother has become one of my favourite shows over the last four years and it will end its fourth season in February, according to the great Wikipedia, at only twelve episodes. I was able to accept this kind of thing during the writer's strike. It made sense then, as no writers meant no new stories and no new episodes. The strike is over though and twelve episodes seems far too short especially when a season usually doesn't come to an end until April.
Weeds is another particular example of this. It was over before it even started. The fourth season started in June and ended in September with thirteen episodes. Showcase is really in a league of its own though. Its shows are usually off the wall and run in bizarre seasons. I can't really fault Weeds for that, but thirteen episodes? It really seems that just as I find myself drawn into a season it is over.
Of course my main problem is with mainstream television. While a show like How I Met Your Mother gets twelve episodes, like I said according to Wiki (it could be wrong), a show like Big Brother got two runs in one year. I kid you not. It ran twice in 2008. I understand I am a hypocrite when it comes to berating the Reality shows, as I myself enjoy Trading Spouses if I catch it, but two runs in on year? While shows like Big Brother run strong a show like Scrubs ended abruptly and without real warning. The final episode was a lame dream sequence like episode - I think it was a musical of some sort - and that is a total fucking cop out.
I know I'm going to attract some flak for this one, but it has to be said: Heroes is pretty much dead. I've watched all of this season and while I enjoyed it for the most part; it was the same plot again. Nathan is a douche - I get it - move on.
So here we are friends on the verge of 2009. A year that I doubt will be any better for us. A show like Prison Break goes on strong. They've all ready escaped from prison...twice. I know a lot of people who enjoyed the first two seasons, but now just loathe it. There is a character called T-Bag. Seriously, did some twelve year old haunting the internet come up with that one? The Office looks like it will be done at the end of January, only for the season I hope. The Wiki tells me that this season of 30 Rock is apparently all ready over at six episodes. So here is our future; more reality tv, more shows that re-hash the same idea over and over and that my friends is a bleak future indeed.
I've done a little more digging and it would appear that I was incorrect. A few of these shows will in fact be running their full seasons of 20-22 episodes. Perhaps I've made mountains out of molehills. |
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(1 People Have Talked | Feel Like Talking?) |
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| 2277 |
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| 12:13pm 10/12/2008 |
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Today Mr. Tenpenny learnt a valuable lesson. You do not attempt to have my life exterminated. I do not take kindly to people putting hits out on me. I found out it was Mr. Tenpenny. I then went to his ritzy apartment building out in the wastes and executed him. I show no mercy for those who would do me harm. I pray this is a lesson to others and especially Talon Company. Fucking Mercs. |
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(Feel Like Talking?) |
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| Double Mo' Fuckin' Post |
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| 07:47pm 03/12/2008 |
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What What? In my butt.
Moving on.
Seriously, stop looking at my butt. There is nothing actually up there but bacteria and feces. I don't know why you are so interested.
I'm watching X-Men last night. Great movie overall. I enjoy watching it every now and again. Last night, however, something occurred to me. We all know Xavier is one of the greatest minds on the planet; he is super smart, can read peoples minds, can make people do things and so on. We all know Magneto helped him make Cerebro and because of that Magneto wears his lovely little helmet to keep Xavier out of his head. The basic plot of the movie runs like this: X-men need to figure out what the fuck Magneto is up to and stop him. Of course they cannot because of Magneto's helmet stopping Xavier from plucking the plan from his pretty little head. Now here is what I got to thinking last night. Why the fuck doesn't Xavier just pluck the plot from Mystique's mind. Seriously bitch is only Magneto's number two and if she doesn't know the plan well why the fuck is she even there. So here is my revised version:
Xavier: I've reached into Mystique's mind...Oh my goodness, Magneto plans to turn all of the UN members into mutants!
Logan: Shit! We best stop that asshole.
They hop in the X-1, fly to where ever Mystique is hiding with Magneto, and kick his ass up and down the fucking hall. End of fucking story. Seriously. The exposition in the film was useless. Christ.
I had something else to say, but I got all caught up in the X-men bullshit. |
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(1 People Have Talked | Feel Like Talking?) |
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| You Know What Really Grinds My Gears? |
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| 04:59pm 01/12/2008 |
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When things claim to be uncensored, but then when you watch them; they really are. Prime example: Stewie Griffin: The Untold Story "All-new, Outrageous, Uncensored". It is not. Every fuck is covered with the FCC's familiar "beep". The hell is this anyway? I'm not watching the movie on television and therefore there is no need for it to be censored. It is not prime time. It is my time. The South Park dvds are the same way, what the hell is this? Seriously. I don't mind when I hear the "beep" on television it makes sense. Parents don't want their kids hearing fuck, fine. I, however, should be able to hear all the fucks I want when I pay money to watch the dvd, fuck.
For good measure. Fuck. |
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(2 People Have Talked | Feel Like Talking?) |
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| Irrrrroooooooonnnnny |
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| 12:20am 20/11/2008 |
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Thought I would share this with you fellas as well.
The Ironic is something, I think, we all enjoy when we have the capacity to catch it. This of course leads me to today, November 19th 2008. On my way to the campus bar, the cellar, to get some fish and chips, before class. I was following a peculiar Jeep Grand Cherokee on the road. You ask yourself, "Jon just what exactly does this have to do with irony?" Well I will tell you! The Jeep's brakes are applied and a curious red light emits from the license plate. What is the deal here? I asked myself. And of course you are saying, "Jon seriously, get to the point." There were LEDs on it, strange enough, but then! Oh but then words started to scroll across it. I watched. The first word across "Reduce" and then his brake lights went off. Luckily I was behind him long enough for the brakes to be applied again and the words, "Reduce Gas..." come across. One final time! "Reduce Gas Consumption." I laughed a mighty jolly laugh; Santa would have been proud. |
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(1 People Have Talked | Feel Like Talking?) |
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