i'm sort of getting used to drawing with my tablet now...

of course, it would all just be easier if i had a scanner...

CDs i got in april

nick cave -- i already talked about this one.

The Dears - End of a hollywood bedtime story.
romantic noir pop. or something. they're from Montreal, canada. their music is big and grand and traumatic and crazy. crazy! the lyrics are about love and lies and shame and hollywood beds. think of 60s french pop, 70s Bowie, and maybe some Pulp. sick. beautiful.

Novillero - The Brindleford Follies
super canadian indy pop. yay. Rusty (an occasional Salteen) is in this band. he plays trumpet and keyboards and does backup vocals. me and cat met him one time in Caledon East, wherever the fuck that is, when he was playing with the Salteens. Rod Slaughter is the singer of this band and i happened to meet him years ago when he was with Duotang, and they were touring with Plumtree. we sat in the dirty hotel room with them and he entertained us by playing "The Game's Over" by Plumtree on his bass guitar, and singing it in a falsetto. but thats just name dropping. basically this band rules. they're a 6-piece. layered pop. four-part harmonies. lounge mod pop punk ska. you should listen to them too. this and The Dears can be ordered from No Records.

New Order - Republic
classic. the last album that New Order put out. i hear they're touring and/or making a new album right now, so that's good news. this album rocks in every way possible. i don't even have to describe it. if you arent familiar with new order, just go download "Regret" or "ruined in a day". If you like new order, i like you better.

wanker! hopefully i'll finish some more Locked in the trunk of a car today.

i would like a place i could call my own
have a conversation on my telephone
wake up everyday that would be a start
i would not complain with my wounded heart
i was upset you see
almost all the time
you used to be a stranger
now you are mine

ahaha

bullshit

one more for the night:

i sat molded into the couch for most of the night. i looked up into the ceiling for what must have been minutes. i used to count the little specks that filled it. but, i soon stopped doing that... only because i'd moved so many times and had to start over so many times... i thought that i would let it be. i never really needed to know anyway.

it's funny how you notice things though. as an artist i saw everything in the world as a sketch or painting for awhile. it was an odd combination of being close to and seperated from my environement at the same time. i would look at a tree curving down until the trunk became roots and burst through the ground. you can see how the dirt lumps up a bit before it causes the wood to disappear. the grass that surrounds it is always in patches and the way the light hits a leaf of grass so that it shines slightly... not from the grass itself, but from the dew that collected on it in the morning.

i guess these things aren't bad to notice. but, when you get in that frame of mind, it can be overwhelming at times...

also... i'm so slow at whatever i do. i'm a slow person. i've been working on a prelude for Winter in Spades for... awhile now. i just can't kick something out. i can't work on something unless i feel that it is completely right. i'm slow. slower than most, i guess. i'm not sure if this is a bad thing. does art become better because it's fast?

fucking christ, no...

i'm not sure what art is but i know a lot of things it isn't. it has nothing to do with speed. it has nothing to do with how clever it is. it has nothing to do with it's brilliance compared to another piece. that's a contest. art isn't a contest. that's contrived.

i don't know what my art is either, and i'd never try to define it. i hate to hear people i love say that their art isn't good enough... because... it's not about being good enough. it's about being true enough. that may seem silly... i say silly things. but, just because it's silly, that doesn't make it wrong. it doesn't make it right, either. but it's a happy answer for me... and i'll live with it for now.

i like how i'm a complete poser and i'm gonna post my voicemail for all to see. again.

888-470-7856

leave a message or something. goddamnit. i need human contact to sustain a normal life on this planet. don't you know? i'll even relay messages to mal. yo.

i think it's safe to say that i'm a little odd sometimes...

i took this picture. of me. it looks stupid. because i look stupid.

where the hell is jacob?

i want to post on the pretty new delerium. so... free onion rings. they're everywhere. nobody likes onion rings, so they always leave them lying around. and us cockroaches always come out and find them and eat them. that is all.

i was gone from the interweb for awhile. my connection just died. but now it's back. yay.

so, anyway... for the past couple of days i just like... did stuff. i walked to kinkos. and to the mall. and anywhere else. and played Suikoden 2 a lot.

tonight, sports type people had basketball and hockey stuff to watch. i'm not a big sports guy, but i went to this sports bar to hang out with my friend. it was fun. i live in LA, so we all just rooted for the Lakers and the Kings, just because. and they both won. i'd like to think they won because i have a supernatural gift to determine the outcome of a game just by rooting for the chosen team... but i probably don't. i don't think i do anyway... i mean... every team i've ever rooted for has gone to win play-offs or world series or superbowl or stanley cup or that big tennis plate. but, that might just be coincidence.

like, remember that year that Orel Hershiser won the series for the Dodgers? yeah, that was back when i played baseball and liked to watch it (when i was just a young'n). the Dodgers were my team.

anyway... i'm not so into sports anymore. i probably watch something sports related like twice a year, if that much. but, whatever...

me and my friend talked about how it's funny that producers are really the art directors in big companies. (i guess that only makes sense if you've worked in a big design type company). so, anyway... he applied for a producer position. maybe i should too. heh... then i'd have more control over what designs actually look like...

we also talked about girls. i talked about a *certain* girl. and we yelled at the big screen TV over the bar a lot. and we ate this thing called a pizooki, which is like a freshly baked (huge) cookie with ice cream piled on top of it...

and then i came home and was like, "mally! mal! internet connection works! yay!"

... i'll finish this with something unrelated, but good. go visit alice and adam. they cool, yo.

delerium is boring without jacob. jacob has internet trouble or something. i hope he fixes it soon.

i bought donald duck orange juice. it was half price, so i got 2. it's pretty good.

to all of them:

#1
if i'm ever resentful, it's of him, not you. he was always better, faster, stronger, nicer, more attractive. in grade school they even told me he was better at DRAWING. he didn't even exist. he was just some idea of perfection. now you're marrying him. i forget what it was like to want you, though, so i think i'll get by.

#2
i don't know if it'll work. i don't know if anything will. but i'm sure you'll find some kind of success, somehow. you'll channel that sick and crazy energy somewhere. it probably won't be into a dude. and it could never have been me. and that's ok. sorry for anything i ever did that fucked your shit up any.

#3
i think you'll find happiness. if it's at all psychologically possible for you to find happiness, well, you may already be a winner. i don't know if you deserve it, but he sure does. he's a good worker and he honestly means well, all the time, i think. and he's deserved every other good thing that's come his way. and maybe with him on your team, you'll start deserving stuff too. i hope you do great together, and i'm sorry for being... i dunno, volatile, i guess. i think i did ok, considering.

#4
i still don't know what to say. maybe nothing. maybe it'll happen one day. maybe it was nothing all along. i'm just sorry for being such an asshole. you already apologized, and it could have even been sincere, and that's more than i can say for most people.

#5
i don't even know who you are. you never had to know me, and you're probably better off that way. you were just an idea, an incarnation of greatness. an excuse to feel great, and to feel sorry for myself. and maybe that's what all the others were, too, and i just didn't know because i was too close to them. maybe that's all it ever is. maybe that's all you get, and i should be happy with that. or at least content. i don't know. i don't know anything. i know you all got on with your lives without even a hiccup, but i'm kind of caught up, here. i've been stuck on something for a long time, and it's usually been one of you. i don't know. i'm probably just making an emo mountain out of a meaningless molehill.

i never deserved any of you. so it's just and right that i never got any of you. i've never worked for anything in my life.

mally plugged me this article. she says this dude, Ray Carney, shaped her artistic vision when she was 12. i don't know about the 12 thing (when I was 12, i was a little tiny snot-nosed fucker drawing putrid x-men parody comics in ball-point pen on notebook paper), but i think the dude is doing a pretty good job of helping me to see that i have some kind of artistic vision, too. the link, again, is here.

i drew a picture

i forget what i was going to say. i was sleeping. then i was going to post. but blogger was down. then i got email from claire. then whatever depressing thing i was going to say went away. god damn it. i bet it was good too.

"the weakest link" is the worst show ever. i want you to kill me. seriously.

i burned the top of my mouth on a chimichanga the other day. it's still healing. it hurts.

i figure i should go outside today. take a walk somewhere. i woke up this morning and started recording a song. usually, if the song isn't working out in the first few minutes, i'll just scrap it. but this one worked out. so that meant i would be spending the next 6 hours recording. and i'm happy with what i have so far.

so, anyway... i've been inside all day. so i should go outside.

*pause as the phone rings*

FUCK. that's the third hang up i've gotten today. and the only non-hang up i got today was a telemarketer. she was trying to offer me long distance. i couldn't hear a word she was saying. the connection was terrible. i almost said, "so, if i switch to your long distance, will my connection be as bad as yours is?" ... but i didn't.

anyway... outside. after i finish listening to my mally cd, i'm gonna head outside and walk aimlessly.

woah... check this out...

...

HAHA! FOOLED YOU! that link doesn't go anywhere. silly.

i was going on about how i feel different from the world tonight. i think most of the world is wrong. don't ask me what's right, or even what they're wrong about. i have no clue. but i know they're wrong...

i talk about life sometimes... i say things like, "everything is wrong." and people think i'm being negative or whatever. but i'm not really. it's nice to be wrong. we're so caught up in our egos... it's pretty fucked up.

let me talk about originality. most people say that when they look for something interesting... they'd like it to be original. take film, for instance. most movies get bad reviews that can be summed up as, "unoriginal."

the funny thing is... if it truly was original... you would hate it. you know you would. true originality would be so goddamn unfamiliar that it would frighten you. i'm speaking to YOU. the people who read this website. even us indie kids who think we're listening to original clever music... it's still a bit of the old. if it was truly original, we'd be frightened by it. that's how we would know. we'd run screaming from it. and maybe later we'd crawl back and observe until we learned to be comfortable with it. at least... hopefully.

but... even then. being comfortable is dangerous. we stay in one place... we think everything is right... but it's fucking wrong. you probably hate your job... but you won't admit it. you probably hate yourself... but you won't admit it. or, killing another human is bad, but killing a farm animal for consumption is okay. whatever. we fool ourselves everyday. we make excuses. we're so much worse than we think we are. by our own definitions, we're all bad people.

as a disclaimer, i'd like to make a point that everything i say applies to myself as well...

so, anyway... take a look around. everything is bullshit... and fuck... that's not a bad thing. that gives us freedom. it's nice to know that the only way a consequence can fuck with us is if we let it. it's bullshit. whatever.

i'm gonna go to sleep so i can wake up tomorrow and make some idealistic project into something big...

i'm a senseless whiner. i don't deserve your attention.

with that out of the way, i'll get to some whining. i'm tired! and bored! and lonely! and hungry! and haven't kissed anyone in years! and can't record music in this house! and hate comic conventions! and don't live in vancouver! and my roommate keeps trying to kill me!

i think that'll do it for now.

i poured a bowl of cereal, then found out there was no milk. doesn't that suck? i poured it back in the box, because i don't really feel like going to the groceries at 1:30 AM. at least not today.

however, it did give me something to write about.

no wait. i have something else. apple juice. i bought apple juice. it was 99 cents for a nice big bottle, and my mom always used to give it to me when i was a kid, so i assume it's somehow good for you. but my friend cat said the acid was bad for your teeth or some shit. is that true?? apple juice scientists of the world unite and help me!

here's a conversation we just had on icq.

jacob: i'm not really sure what raisin bran x-treme is... what's the x-treme?
mal: oh... it's raisin bran CRUNCH. the sweet and crunchy and wonderful kind of raisin bran. i likes me my dietary fibre.
jacob: what? dude, do they have people skydiving and shit all over the box?
mal: no... but it has this total pop arty thing on the back... with some dude with sunglasses...
jacob: does he have his arms crossed while leaning back in a "i'm too cool for you" type of way?
mal: yep... and a smug grin. ... at least that's how i remember him.

the end.

have you ever kissed a man? i have...

it was... wait wait. sorry, wrong story.

i've decided that my life isn't interesting enough, so i'm just going to be making up everything from now on... just pretend like i never said that and everyone will be happy.

so, i went to a communist gathering of sorts today. communist gatherings are so funny. you just know most of the people there really aren't communists. they're just there because it's the trendy thing to do. fucking pseudocommies.

so, anyway, i'm sitting at the giant sickle table... the flag thing... you know... anyway, i'm sitting over there and helga comes up to me and she's like, "the turkey flies at midnight."

and i mean, on any other night, i'd be like "fuck yeah, the turkey flies at midnight!" but i just wasn't really in the mood for her KGB shennanigans tonight. it just wasn't happening. i was up drinking whiskey and playing sonic the hedgehog until about 5 am the night before. my head was about to split.

but, she just kept on: "my hair smells like cellophane" and "canines are fun to give aenimas to."

i was just like, "whatever, bitch!"

and she got all pissed off. pfft. god i hate those whiny KGB agents.

so, she says, "bob... i know that you know 'whatever, bitch!' ISN'T the codeword. jesus bob... you're a sucky communist."

... what THE FUCK is that? i'm a sucky communist? BITCH!

anyway, she gave me that scary ass look that old russian ladies give (you know the one) and i suddenly lost all control of my bowels. it was weird, i know. it's never happened before. seriously.

so, i just decided to go back to my mansion and play with my kitties.

sorry, i'm sure this wasn't that great of a communist story. i don't know much about communism. i'll try harder next time...

I'm so fucking great. I'm so fucking great it's fucking sick.

i drew a pitcher.

girls rule, boys drool

this song has no answers

it's a happy song hidden inside a sad boring song. written and recorded on this quiet tuesday night. sorry, it's lo-fi. i'll probably record a hi-fi version some time in the distant future. (3.4 mb)

today my mom said i needed a hair cut, so she took me to this one place where we always go, and my long beautiful hair got taken away from me. but now i have short beautiful emo hair and i wear these cute pink clips and all the boys love me.

today was such a hollywood day. i networked. which is the stupid LA way of saying that i called a lot of people and talked to them about nothing really important. and i always ended the conversation with, "take care, man..."

whatever. i'm such a fucking business man. NOT. haha. sorry.

so, anyway... after talking with my friend about his acting agency connections, i hopped on over to the internet and made like a guy who applied for a lot of jobs. i'm like a blogger. you're the reason i've run out of metaphors. WHAT-EVER.

so, anyway... i'm not sure what's up with the design industry, but it bites. all the designers i know are out of work. like ALL of them. i don't think they're happy about it. they seemed pretty unhappy as they said, "godfuckingdamnit, i am so fucking unhappy with this situation..."

but, look! i can do photography or whatever! i can draw sometimes! i play music too! this entry may seem really fucked up, but sometimes i pretend to write! give me a job doing any one of these things... i can do it!

anyway, i'm not really begging for a job here. it's just for, you know... like... entertainment or whatever.

i had a dream that i got $800 for whatever reason.

A girl named Claire e-mailed me. She's beautiful. I have a question: are girls emotion-based or are they pure evil?

ha ha. i'm just kidding about that link. don't hit me, molly. but seriously, i want some opinions. what I mean is, do girls do what they do based on what they're feeling, or based on insidious precalculation?

i wrote an email to mally and said i didn't have anything to say. which was true. so i'm not really going to say anything here.

well, wait... i want to mention matthew again. just because. i guess just saying his name again is saying a lot, right? because i think he's great.

oh, and mally called me. she called me. i talked to her. her voice responded to my voice. it was the best thing to happen to me in forever. i spent all day recovering and napping and wishing she were napping with me.

but, anyway...

we cleaned the house today and someone threw out the 2-month old stale bread, so locke can't make any more jacked sandwiches. he was understandably upset. he could not satiate his maddening hunger in the usual way. he has turned to the familiar horrors of ramen, which i have not eaten in a week or so. the day will soon come.

what the fuck happened here? who changed delerium?

...

haha. fooled you. that was a good joke on you. haha.

i went to go see a movie tonight. Blow. it was okay, but not really great. Johnny Depp was in it. Johnny Depp is a great actor. sitting in a movie theater, you can't help but wish that someone you really like is sitting next to you. or, at least, i can't help it. i'm BEYOND cheese...

err, but she wasn't sitting next to me. damn. she was in her dorm doing work. or something. maybe she wasn't. whatever. the point is: she wasn't there. damn...

so, anyway, despite looking at my friends hand and being slightly disturbed that i imagined it as a girls hand for a split second, i enjoyed my time in the theater.

when i got home i finished all my trig homework, and then decided to call bobby. bobby has been my friend since grade school. there's this track meet on tuesday... i'm a little nervous about it. we're up against Jefferson and a few other schools. the other schools don't really worry me, all those kids suck. but Jefferson has Danny Wilcott. it's not so much that Danny is fast, but that every once in awhile he'll stick his foot out in front of you while you're running and trip you. dirty cheat. you may think that wouldn't be a big deal, but have you ever fallen while running as hard as you can? especially in gravel. he did it to this kid Marty Thompson... that kid fell so hard he broke his nose. that's fucked up!

anyway, what was i saying? oh yeah. bobby and i are on the track team. last week, bobby told me about this thing... a decathalon or something. i really want to sign up for it, but my mom says i'm too young for such a thing. that's bullshit. she probably thinks i'm too young to say bullshit, also. well BULLSHIT BULLSHIT BULLSHIT! she never let's me do anything. i should run away... but i won't. i'd miss the simpsons. that show is too great to miss. it's worth a few more years of oppression.

oh... wait... sorry. those last two paragraphs weren't true. my bad. oh... and yes, i actually DID imagine my friends hand as a girls hand for a split second. SORRY!

i'm the first to post in the NEW delerium!! ahahahaha!!

ok, so if any adorable girls are reading this and i dont know you on a first name basis, fucking email me so we can fall in love. thats bryan@syste.ms. thats all.

oh yeah, i got a new CD today. Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds -- No More Shall We Part. i am a big fan of nick cave. he is very sexy and manly and australian and sings passionate love songs and other things like songs about killing everyone and how hard his dick is. Anyway this one is called No More Shall We part, and it came out this week I think, and it has a nice little painting-y cover and kind of lame typography but is still kind of cool looking. It has 12 songs. They are all pretty great. one of them is called Fifteen feet of Pure White Snow and it is the suckiest song as far as i can tell from listening to the album twice. I think its about kids being buried under snow. But anyway most of the other ones rock the fucking house yo, even though one is called "Sweetheart come" and since they're Australian it sounds like they're chanting "Sweet Hot Cum" and I had to stop listening to it the first time because i started giggling. But it is really good honest. You should all buy it and listen to it. Nick Cave is a golden god.

Oh i just wanted to mention that this CD cost more than 18 of your american dollars. very upsetting. you see, CDs in canada have very similar price tags (ie $16.99 like this one), but Canadian dollars cost less and are easier to come by. Also i was going to get Subway today, but a foot long cold cut trio was $5.99, what the fuck is that? they are like $4.29 in canada, which works out to less than three of your green american dollars. But whatever. I got a bourbon chicken pita instead at the cajun place, it cost four eighty-five but was pretty good. Oh wait i wasnt supposed to talk about food so i should stop. ok i'm done.

Coke is cholesterol free.

i was told to stop making posts about food, but i really need to tell everyone that last night locke made a sandwich out of 3-month-old bread, 1-month old turkey and cheese, lettuce, and like half a bottle of salad dressing. the sandwich *crunched* and i don't think it was all lettuce crunch.

then today he made the same sandwich AGAIN.

so, anyway...

i seem to muddle through life. i sit for what seems like hours just staring at my pant leg... even though i know it's only been minutes. if there was something i was supposed to do, i couldn't ever know. if i actually did have a purpose, i'm deaf to it. this is said with the expectation that there is someone who can give me a purpose, which i couldn't be sure of anyway. i really don't know what i'm doing, ever. if i told you something today, don't expect for me to say that tommorow. unless i told you i loved you. i don't say that much. it's not to be taken lightly.

i'm afraid that i don't deserve what i'm getting sometimes. of course, that would be in assuming that there was someone to give me these things, which i couldn't be sure of anyway. i feel like a fake sometimes, even though all i say is all i believe... i'm just not sure if they are seeing more. maybe they're hoping it's there... but i don't really know what they're hoping for. so i'm lost, and i'm doomed.

i want to sleep, but i don't want to be tired. i don't want to be anything that you expected because i'm scared of what you may have expected in the first place. i'm frightened of people. i hunt socially the way you would stand still in the face of a tiger. i smile and laugh through gritted teeth and hope to not be devoured alive. i hope you are caring and kind enough to not devour me alive. but that's a harsh thing to expect with tigers. they're just here to eat. and there is no wrong in that.

but i'd never run. i'd sit and take it like a man. heh. or a boy pretending to be a man, anyway. but all the while, my secret hope is that you'll attack me only to pin me to the ground, laugh, and lick my nose... and we'd just sink into the sand.

it's funny that i don't know what to say here. it's funny that i think some people may be tired of this. it's funny that i don't speak like this in real life. it's funny, and a very laughable funny. just like all life. it's very funny. and though this may seem very dry and emo, i assure you, i could say it all while laughing loudly. i'm the first to admit that i'm wrong. i'm the first to admit that it's silly. it is. but you have to establish the scene before you can say the scene is silly.

but, anyway...

*start quotes*

heh... it's one of the things that makes me a guy. except I dress in all grey and I still like boys, so I'm a gay man. except I don't know many gay men that say "dude," but... hey... you can't have it all. ;)

no, it's 2 flowers without stems and an empty ice cream cone! ...yo!

It's sort of a nice thing to be. It's a good feeling - if a fucked up one - to know 5 minutes before french class that you haven't done the homework, don't know what the homework was because you lost the syllabus, don't know what you're learning in class because you don't pay attention, but you're still getting a B+ in the class so you play "killer cars" on full volume and dance around your room alone until you see the construction workers outside your window so you wave to them and run to class just to be early...

if you just take a moment at face value, it's always beautiful... but I (and everyone) always get caught up in the grand scheme of things...

*big emo sigh*

TYT?

the lightning will take care of them. the whores.

irish-polish-probably-gypsy-northern-european-but-looks-middle-eastern-sort-of-american-who-lived-close-to-canada-and-hung-out-with-only-asians-in-high-school...

my mom isn't really the type that would pressure me to get cable, though. ;)

*really, huge, massive, beyond emo sigh action*

maybe you should just distract yourself with disposable cameras until the pain goes away...

that, or a fucking LOT of ice cream...

well, fuck can be a subject, object, verb and adjective!

fucking fucks fuck fuckers!

my dad was watching something on TV today with robots, and I looked at them and thought "robots need love too!" and I smiled.

dammit. where's a baby when you need one to kill?

I whooped dictionary.com's ass!

THIS WARRANTS CAPITAL LETTERS.

---

ooh yeah. top five depression songs. go for it! i'll do mine.

the guy is pretty fucked

yeah.. i told her she was "female jacob" yesterday

we would have laid the smack down

we have this symbiotic heroic relationship

i dont know how anything would work... its like a human and a zentradi.
*NERD*

all i can see is a big t-shirt and bare legs
..
.......

i'll be dating the female jacob .. for no reason

but i mean... they're AOL personals... for the love of god... you gotta be picky.

tyt dreams

i mean, i just said "nuh-uh!!"

i bet she has many suitors, and shit
like princess jasmine

if we question these things, we may be killed

that means i'll have to draw the line at dating and casual sex...

oh, nothing... we're just kidding ourselves when we say we want FRIENDS

yeah, and we're all about the funky fresh flow
kick kick kick!
punch punch punch!

i dont know. we took it outside and beat it to death with a baseball bat and the ninja sword.

yeah... and hilarity shall ensue. or pornography. or something.

then we went inside to consult the television...

don't die man
we need your perfect body

dude i just listened to Temptation by new order like FIFTY times.

dude... i love peanut butter. its like my favorite thing.

thats my duty in delerium... i'm the wiggy guy

whatever..

---

when i rocke the mike, yous got to like the way i operate!!!!!!!!!
I PERPETRATE!
I make miracles happin jus' by RAPPIN!!!!!!

makes ya just wanna try canibalism you know? ever meet those kinda people? you just see em and you just wanna eat them

"abe lincolns bush and the inalienable right to eat fred astairs asshole - a clause stricken from the declaration of independence"

chorus- *clank*clank*clank* clank clank* *clank! and it never went back straight!!! *clank *clnak*

i am free to sing to whomever i please. i am a singer.

trip was good. we ruled the con, and there was a big porn store across the street from the hotel

cool deal. find any alternatives to napster yet? im looking for some ricky martin mp3s :]

may as well buy a gun

find one you must. be it them, it may, but dream you should not!! there is only DO!!

give me the gasoline.. and the crude oil.. and maybe i'll let you live.

---

NATALIE IS HAVING SEX WITH SOME GUY

well yes. i mean-- you can BOIL it and shit. chicks dig BOILING.

you're right. canada? i hear white people go to harvard, and there's white people in canada.

or wait, are all canadians like mal, and they're like 1/5 white, and the rest is greek/koreon/furby?

yes. and to get mal out, we'll dress him up in-- uh....... HE'LL BE NAKED. and they'll asume he's a japanese tourist that lost his way in america!

obviously the lord has contempt for the both of us.

wait wait, chocolate filled money? how much chocolate can you actually fit into a dollar bill?

personally, i'd be flattered at some naked lewis pictures.

jacob, why dont you ever kiss me like you used to? ;_;

im sorry. would you like a jumbo jack?

*end quotes*

i love those people...

okay, i'm back. only took an hour. i didn't meet up with any cops, but i got a daily photo for DBP. it's all of the freeway and shit.

my hands are really numb now. california is really fucked up. it gets really hot during the day and really cold at night. or maybe i'm just a wussy california boy.

anyway, it's crazy how everything smells like nothing has touched it at 4 am. you just can't get these smells during the day. i figure it's just because, by that time, all the motor oil and exhaust and whatever else from people breathing and eating and smoking and talking and coughing has taken the place of all the poor smells who just can't stand up for themselves. or something.

oh, look, i drop kicked a fucking bush, yo.

we got busted by a cop just now. we were innocently sitting in the park. (at 3:20 AM). he got our IDs. we are not from california. he got kind of concerned. he walked away and ran a check on us. when he came back my boy L fucking busted out his verbal grace skillz.

when he mentioned we were comic book artists it was game over. the cop got all excited suddenly. he was like pretending to be nonchalant. he's all "so what company do you work for?".

L mentions image.

the cop loves it, confesses that he does read the occasional comic book, often borrowing them from his nephew. mostly marvel and dc stuff. L weaves an intricate and beautiful tapestry of tales of working in the comic industry, infusing our personal creative work with morality, having a duty to educate the young people that read our work, et fucking cetera.

we had a lovely conversation at 3 AM in the middle of that park, shooting the shit about japanese comics, kevin smith, the re-release of akira, and fucking everything. the cop even mentioned that one of his fellow cops was reading lone wolf & cub during briefing one day. sample dialogue: "What's a big burly man doing reading this tiny little comic? ... Ohhhh."

anyway, just thought i would share.

i just downloaded a shitload of Beta Band songs and i like them. they are nice. after i finish listening to them i'm going out for a walk because i really need to. a 4 am walk seems like it will make me less jaded. i'm not sure why i'm jaded, but i figure that if i deface some public shrubbery or something, i might feel a tad better...

shrubbery will die.

and now for some emo. i wrote a song a little while ago. i wrote the beginning before i left, and the second half after i left. i probably won't be able to record it for a while, if ever. but here's the lyrics for you to love.

"melange"

don't be absurd
your name is a four letter word
you were my curse
i kiss you goodbye

we've never met
you seemed so serious and yet
i have no regrets
i kiss you goodbye

farewell dear heart
all the sugar in the world is not enough
to pay you back for all the sweetness
you're a star
i kiss you goodbye

don't say a word
you're just reporting what you heard
you act like you're hurt
i kiss you goodbye

you look so sad
remembering all the times we never had
life is not so bad
i kiss you goodbye

farewell dear heart
all the anger in the world does not add up
to all the toxic waste you dumped
into my arms
but i miss you
i kiss you
goodbye

whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever whatever.

i wasn't really gonna post anything. i just opened the blog window... just because. but, like, i just noticed that it says "Blog This!" at the top of the window. i'm not sure if i should be offended by this or not...

i mean, it's like, "Blog This or fucking die you trendy blogging asshole!"

and i'm like, "fuck you..."

*post and publish*

wait, isn't apple jacks the cereal that takes pride in not tasting like apples? maybe they also take pride in not resembling apples in any way. maybe they take pride in being apple-like in name only.

not to rain on the emo parade or anything, but why are apple jacks green and orange with red thingies? have the manufacturers of apple jacks ever seen an apple before?

tonight i went to the store with my bestest friend ever and we went inside and took pictures of all the housewives and teenagers getting alcohol illegally and then we went to the park and we laid in the grass and talked about how it would be cool to have our very own robots and we'd love them because robots need love too and then we went to get ice cream because ice cream is so fabulous and we sat there eating it and then i flung an m&m from my ice cream on my bestest friend and she flung a sprinkle from hers and it was so funny because her sprinkles were so dinky and i was winning the topping fight but it didn't matter because we were having so much fun and as we were eating our ice cream we walked along the street and got lost but it was cool because we found this crazy store that sold funny japanese trinkets and i walked away with a buddha looking thing but it was skinny and she walked away with those fan thingies and then we finished our ice creams and found the car and drove out to a place in the country and talked about the stars and neon hotpants and made silly little necklaces out of flowers and she read me poems and i liked it and i just wanted to kiss her so i did and then we laughed and laid back on the hood of the car and the air was nice and breezy and the smell was amazing and then we fell asleep on the hood of the car.

i wish all that was true.

in refernece to what i just posted:

when is mating NOT an ordeal? mating is a total fucking ordeal. i dont even care about mating but it is totally a fucking total ordeal you fuckers. you fucking fuckers die fuckers die.

whatever.

quote of the day, yesterday:

"Pandas are the Koreans of the animal kingdom."

-- Long Vo (in reference to how pandas have trouble mating)

blogvoices just got rid of the comment count feature... the comments still work, it just won't count them anymore. an upside is that everything loads a lot faster. or some junk...

i figure i should post something, so.. lets see...

i'm pretty sure i had a dream about m last night. she was small and skinny. her glasses were emo. we went shopping or something. i forget.

i think i'll eat some peanut butter with the jelly that i stole from denny's. well actually they gave it to me, but i took it home instead of using it on their gross toast. one time i stole mayonaise from this place called the Alibi Roadhouse in london, ontario, at like 3 AM. mayonaise in those little tiny plastic containers like how you get butter and jam in. right. i'm such a fucking thief. that was last summer when i was hanging out with emma every day and we hung out with snowy and julia sometimes. that time at the Alibi was one of those times. another one of those times they all got shroomed out except me (i was driving) and we just walked around downtown like the entire night, then i think we watched anime at snowy's apartment which was downtown by all the bars and trendy fashion stores. then i had to sort of drag emma home. i think she really wanted snowy and i'm not sure if she ever achieved success in that area. anyway, now snowy and julia are in hong kong and i'm down here in america and emma's in london, so: hi guys.

where was i... oh yeah, peanut butter. i'm gonna go eat some now.

so, i skipped the daily photo for a couple of days... whoops.

i'd just like to say something about mals peanut butter obsession. i think it's unhealthy. dude, we all love you. you can't keep going on like this. FUCK.

oh shit... i think i just broke from my emo character. there'll be hell to pay for this.

wait... *sigh*. there.