jacob: god, if i weren't me, i'd hate myself so much.
john: i agree. with the hating part.

last night was a bust, i think. though, yes, the roof party served up a beautiful panoramic view of the entire city - space needle and downtown seattle included. but, really, any night that involves me being duped into carrying a case of beer to an undisclosed location - while already drunk - can only turn out bad. and it did. i hate beer. i think beer is the worst drink ever invented and the "acquired taste" myth is total bullshit.

but, as we were leaving the apartment at 3 AM (where four out of five people had a lame and unnecessary discussion/argument), i whispered to john that, at that instant, i hated him so much for dragging me to this and wasn't about to let him live it down for quite awhile. and, suddenly, i started laughing really hard. hard enough to let out a really loud snort that echoed throughout the complex stairway. and, goddamn, i think that might have made it kind of worth it.

w... woah. apparently blogger redesigned. and i redesigned floate. that's what all the "hullabaloo" was about.

i'll be moving on the 5th of next month to a sublet and will be effectively homeless from the 1st until then. i don't think it is as dramatic as it sounds.

somehow, life and death situations aint no thing to me anymore. i am a super driver. i drive like i'm a top score winner and near misses don't frighten me one bit. if a situation were to arise that required an expert getaway driver, please call me.

i'm sure my obituary will include the words 'fiery' and 'explosion' and 'five city blocks' and 'jesus christ'.

girl with broken hand and monster.

cowboy boy.

the babies are very awkward.

california is my baby.

also, where is mal at?!?!!?

today was lindsay's birthday. we went to see beck. it was a big concert and people kept trying to give us free tickets to the show on our way in, but we already had our own free tickets. the venue reminded me that i don't like big concerts. beck is totally sexy though. also got accosted by a cop on the drive back, all because he didn't know how to use semaphore properly. i dealt with it well. Auburn, Washington is the worst city ever.

floate still doesn't work (but the ftp does - hence, the blog) and it might make me cry.

floate isn't working because, apparently, billions of people are visiting hugo and it's sucking all of floate's bandwidth.

also, seriously, friendster is the devil.

i'm not sure why tapioca in the bottom of coffee makes it better, but it does.

oh so bitter. when did i get this way?

went to see yo la tengo tonight. it was a good show. really long. my ear is ringing. georgia is the best drummer ever. i want her as my drummer. everyone wanted them to play autumn sweater and they did and for some reason that song makes me really sad. they also played you can have it all acapella and i really liked it because, for some reason, that is my favorite yo la tengo song. now i'm here and john and ryan are doing stuff. i still don't know where i will be in a month.

i think there is a direct correlation between my short, quipy, catch phrase posts and the extremely narrow area in which they are displayed.

there was a time when i had so much more to write, but i think i've finally realized why i don't have much to write anymore - my life is on a loop. a horrible endless loop. my surface has been scratched and the laser skips over and over again. and it goes: new town, no work, fail; new town, no work, fail; new town, no work, fail. invariably, there are other things that belong in that loop, like: horrible depression and unattainable girls (also, a subcategory to that is girls who must have mistaken me for something else and eventually, again, are unattainable) and solitude. but i think the first three are the cataclysms for the rest. i mean, maybe not. maybe i am the cataclysm for all of it. but whatever. the point is that i have failed again.

i am kind of tired of failing. but ultimately, i am kind of tired of life. i think when you are sad, the whole world either rallies behind you or they tell you to get over it. i've found that the getting over it comment is like putting a quarter into those gumball machines that have the slide to the bottom and i am the gumball who has suddenly been sent on his way to a downward spiral (the final fate is to be chewed up and spit out). it's just a little tiny snowball push in the wrong direction. (not that i'm innocent of using the comment myself @w@)

i mean, but no, obviously these analogies are retarded and obviously i am on a self pity binge here, but honestly, this time i can actually say i tried. not to say i didn't try before, but i think i tried harder this time. it's like that episode of the simpsons where bart had to actually start trying to get good grades and he really really tried and finally, in the end, he still did horribly.

it's possible that the ultimate tragedy here is that i have too much self respect to work at a shitty job that i will hate. i am not a robot, or whatever. because i would rather spend my life on the verge of homelessness and drawing pictures or writing songs about it than by pouring my angst into a hamburger that someone will shit out in a day or two... and seriously, those things are bad for you anyway, so we don't need another slave to the creation of bad health.

i would say that this has been the worst month of my life, but that just wouldn't be fair to all of last summer.

wait, no, i mean yeah okay.

just smile all the time. shine your teeth 'til meaningless and sharpen them with lies. whatever's goin' down will follow you around. that's how you fight loneliness.

today i applied for jobs at two clothing stores (urban outfitters and buffalo exchange) and a restaurant and cleaned our bathroom and went to a ghetto mcdonalds and got a new copic pen and a honey dew boba. goddamnit.

i remember when i used to be a graphic designer.

i'm a sad panda. it seems like i'm failing again. why doesn't it ever just work out?

and whenever i'm frustrated i use the word 'like' so much more.

mal: whoa... uh oh...
jacob: like, it fucking sucks...
mal: like, totally...
jacob: i'm so tired of like... survivng...
mal: like... i know... totally...
mal: everything is totally difficult...
mal: the difficulty setting is too high...
jacob: seriously. Xtreme difficulty...
mal: it's like "8"
mal: and we need like... "2"
jacob: maybe just like... one star...
mal: yeah...
mal: we need a handicap...

jacob: dudwe... like... i'm not sure why i can't get a job?
jacob: it makes me feel like i'm not good at like... anything...
mal: me also... like... i'm really sorry... and... if i had to get a job, i would be the same as you...
jacob: like, even starbucks rejected me...
mal: god...

guitar solo: do do do do da do do do da la der do da da da do dooo wah wah wah weer wah da... da da da da da da da da da wah wah waah duh duh duh duh duh weer fade..

we went to the beach today and hit people in the face with our aerobie. then we went and got some pizza. now we are all set to watch crossroads. this is my life. my life is crossroads.

lindsay says 'hi' to the internet or whatever.

what i really want is some strawberry cake.

it is so hot.

i ate two popcicles today and i mopped the kitchen floor and i drove to the store and goddamn it's hot.

not like middle-of-the-valley-california hot, but still hot.

it has always seemed to be a habit of mine to lead myself into situations that i possibly do not belong. and then i get there to that place where i can't get what i want and no one is to blame and i'm just so tired.

oh please please please let me get what i want. lord knows it would be the first time.

i've rediscovered EMF.

also, new blur seems to be like rock or something.

and something different again: old 97s are so good and sexy.

here is a post designed to bump half-formed aphorisms down one whole notch:

i rearranged my room. it looks better. kazaam.