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captain bodacious

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[11 Sep 2005|09:15am]
work at kroger, then maybe hanging out with mike, or james, or stacy, or arika.


i'll tell you crazy kids how it went later.


[10 Sep 2005|04:14am]


this weekend is a busy few days ahead except for tommorrow

i'm assuming my plans are not going through, anyone want to go to the station and halloween usa? maybe see the exorcism of emily rose? i dont know fuck it ill go alone or with mike.

mann, its 4am. im tired.

i feel like i have a really bad hangover. stupid hospital.

im excited for the first REAL day at kroger sunday

tonight at miejer i saw some halloween stuff and i got kind of sad. oh well, my love for my birthday marches on.


[08 Sep 2005|03:44am]
i've got two jobs, had a nice day at the park with danielle, ha ha, ambers pregnant.

stacy was supposed to call me back but didn't, and i'm sitting here bored.

went to action island with everyone, talked to the waitress about suicide, showed her art made of french fries,

went swimming a few days ago for probably the only time this year.

theres a cricket living in my room now, last night it was quiet, tonight its being loud. boo to you, mister cricket.

playing guitar recently, ava got into my personal business about danielle and i, made me kind of mad...

saw katie, saw gay boy steve, saw provot,

ive made some new friends recently, which is kind of cool. <333333333333

bah i dont want to get up for kroger at 11. fuck that noise. im going to bed.

oh, ALSO

i might cut my hair again

im thinking of doing it kind of in between like the singer from nfg had it for a while and the two pictures behind this cut

this cut right hereCollapse )


[02 Sep 2005|12:31am]

This is a happy story about an adorably whimsical little boy named Jimmy and his cute little puppy named Mister Wigglenton. Only text couldn't do this heartwarming story justice, so we hired the best artists ever to painstakingly create the illustrations for it. It took five years and cost seven brave men their lives, but I think it was worth it. I threw them in The Pit just to hear them scream. They never go away, you cannot wash the blood off. I can see them in the walls. They keep shouting and shouting and the wallpaper is bleeding and they never stop thumping around they're dead dead people can't move around they never leave me alone THE SCREAMING NEVER STOPS THE SCREAMING NEVER STOPS WHY GOD WH

Meet Jimmy and Mister Wigglenton. Jimmy is ten years old. He likes baseball. Baseball is fun because you throw a ball around. Jimmy has a puppy and the puppy is called Mister Wigglenton. Mister Wigglenton has leprosy. Jimmy thinks leprosy is a funny word. Jimmy named his puppy Mister Wigglenton because he wiggles around a lot. Jimmy's dad calls wiggling "seizures" and "oh god that dog is puking blood everywhere". Jimmy thinks seizure is a funny word.

"You got mail", says the adorable puppy. "Mail? Is it a present?" asks little Jimmy, "Present from whom, Wigglenton?" "Why, it's a present most gruesome, Jimmy. A present from the void, Jimmy." Leprosy spreads easily. Now Jimmy has leprosy. Jimmy thinks leprosy is a funny word.

In a few days, Jimmy's flesh started rotting. Oh, how frail indeed is this vessel we call a human body. Jimmy's right arm started itching, so he scratched it. Jimmy's hand fell off. There was nothing but itchy numbness and the warmth of fresh blood. "Uh oh", Exclaimed Jimmy, "I can't let my parents see this! Surely they'll go to the vet and put Mister Wigglenton to sleep!" Jimmy loved his puppy very much. Mister Wigglenton licked all the blood off the floor. "That's good, Wiggles! Help me clean!" But Mister Wigglenton had no other thought in his small puppy head than The Hunger. He had a thirst that could not be quenched, a hunger that could not be satiated. He would kill just for the sake of killing. It helped the hunger go away, but only for a little while.

A few weeks passed. No one noticed Jimmy's condition. Jimmy thought it was becasue he was hiding it so well, but most likely it was because his father spent all his time at work, indulging in carnal pleasures with his big breasted secretary, and his mother was an abusive alcoholic. But still, some problems occasionally arose. "What's that horrible stench, Jimmy? It smells like something is rotting in here!" shouted Jimmy's mother. "Nothing, mother!" exclaimed Jimmy, while hastily trying to hide his decaying flesh under his bed. Mister Wigglenton was having one of his wacky seizures: "Must serve the void. The void is me. Must serve the void. The void is me." Jimmy thought "The Void" was a funny word. Jimmy's pulsating brain was partly visible because his bones started softening and a part of his skull had fallen off.

Two months passed. "No, Daddy, you can't take Mister Wigglenton away!" poor Jimmy cried. "For Christ's sake son, he is only a degrading lump of biomass! He has been dead for two weeks now!" "But I saw him move just now!" "Honey, that's just the Corpse Fly Larvae." Jimmy died shortly thereafter from a broken and rotten heart.

This picture is a blatant lie, since all animals go straight to hell and will never know the face of god.

[24 Aug 2005|06:46pm]
before we go into what alcholics refer to as an "epiphany", i'd like you do click here, to see two girls i love with all of my heart

it was made in the starsCollapse )

sitting at work for a while (although i feel bad for bawling my eyes out in front of nicole in the back room at work), and sitting here for a while, i've come to decide that i'm going to take this time alone i've been given to do alot of htings i need to do, to fix myself. not just for me, not just for her, but for everyone. the better job situation is more or less a go here in a few days, tommorrow morning i'm going to look into getting some psychiatric help, find me a professional who i can talk to, get advice from, maybe give me some happy chemicals if need really be....ultimatly make me a better person. the season of change has dawned, i'm going to be twenty-one years old, and it's time to fix myself. as soon as i'm less depressed im dropping the cigarettes and the drugs. I'm opening a bank account soon to save up for somewhere to live. When it comes to relationships, I'm not going to be so crazy and overprotective and whatnot, I've learned from my mistakes, although the way things are going I doubt there will be another chance to prove myself. However, before I try to feel ready to prove myself to her, I'm going to make sure I've proven myself, to, well...myself. People look down on me, I look down on myself for not getting anywhere, so I'm pushing myself to get there. I've bene planning it all out. When the moneys a little better, I'm going back to school for my diploma, and then applying for a teaching spot in digital media at the ITT technical institute, that will hopefully pay enough for me to get to boston. I'm hoping when I get back from Tom Savinis school, if not before that, she'll be ready to have me back, and I'll live the thing I'll be dreaming about every night until it happens. If theres other boys in her life until then, or other girls in mine, that's cool with me, maybe its what we both need righ tnow, and thats fine, because I know they won't last. I know she'll keep her promise.


A precious few times have you felt altogether sound. Even fewer times still that you've known why you felt what you did. And it does at first vex you to hear that you are not what you think, when you think that you are your own. Still it occurrs to you that something inside you looks to something higher than intellect. Something someplace to which intellect cannot itself soar. And when you get there, If you get there, you may, like a child, have no more reason to believe that what you see,is what you get.


[23 Aug 2005|06:05am]
i have another journal that i may only show a couple of you, which will contain my writings that are all personal and emotional and junk. ask me about it, i may add you.

i got some really nice compliments tonight, kind of nice to be reassured. heard some things i haven't heard in a long time. make a grown man blush? pshaw.


[23 Aug 2005|12:05am]
i'd like to thank you for tonight. we cried our eyes out and we tried to keep it short. it took all night, to kill ourselves with long goodbyes. and what choice was left, but that of temporary death? where for tonight, just let my body drive me home. so i kissed my love goodbye. reluctant lips and open eyes to demonstrate that i was brave. i've never spouted braver lies. me eyes were skies, that spilled their stars, ono the laps on uwashed dreams. and you're the snow that wore the glow of tail-lights, fell into the street. my racing heart still skipping beats and measures, desperate for an end. to desperate songs, just let my body drive me home. to where i'm crawling off to bed with thoughts of hope still in my head. so i'm not perfect yet. thats the point, last time i checked. does romance fall victim to distance? this time it's distance that's falling. i promise. this is it. this is our chance.


[22 Aug 2005|10:08pm]

on a happier note, hello autumn, hello season of the pumpkin.

i've missed you alot, and we have alot of catching up to do.


[16 Aug 2005|03:15am]
Disturbing Things Girls Have Told or Done to Me:

Since the age of 4, when, in preschool, a girl named Jenny asked me to wake her up from naptime by tapping my penis on her forehead "the way daddy does," I think I've become some kind of metaphysically creepy-random-comments-from-girls magnet. Here's a few examples.

7th Grade:
The very first week of school.

Girl: You have a penis, right?
Me: Uhm, yeah. Why?
Girl: So, if you hold it straight out, you can make it look like a exclamation point, right?
Me: Uh...sure...
Girl: And if you kindof curve it, it'll look like a question mark, right?
Me: Theoretically-
Girl: But only I can do a period!
And with that, she yanked up her skirt to show me her blodd-stained panties.

This blew my little 13-year-old mind. It both turned me on and freaked me out at the same time. Later this girl got suspended from school. Aparantly she was so excited to be the first in her class to have a period, she ran into the middle of the boys' dodgeball game, and whipped off her shorts so they could all get a good look. A lot of balls instantly dropped, and not just those of the dodging variety.

9th grade:
My first sexual experience that actually involved nudity. While we're fondling each other, she asks me if I like Diet Coke.

Me: It's allright.
Girl: Well, I LOVE it. How 'bout you go get me a bottle of it?

I go downstairs and grab a 20 ounce bottle from the fridge. When I return, she says it's too cold.

Girl: How 'bout warming it up...by rubbing it on my tits?

So I began to rub her vigorously with the bottle. Soon enough, she asks me to shove it inside of her. She really enjoys it, and so do I because I KNOW that, with this girl, I'm definantly going to get off. That's when it gets crazy.

She rips out the bottle, opens it, and begins filling her vagina with Diet Coke. I swear, she nearly empties the volume into her vagina. I had seriously underestimated this vagina's liquid retention volume.


I was noticebly freaked me, but I did want to get off, and I didn't want my first load-blow to be into 18.7 fluid ounces of a 0-calorie beverage. I began to go down on her, until she said the exact wrong thing.


I don't know how she did it with 16-year-old voice, but she sounded exactly like the Kool-Aid man from the commercials. I glanced at the wall, half-expecting him to burst through and offer me a fruity beverage. I was extremely turned-off. She could tell, too. As she sat up to see what was wrong, she twisted her body in such a way that Diet Coke shot out of her vagina and all over my face, chest, and groin. And it was at that sticky, low-calorie moment that my parents chose to pull into the driveway.


[13 Aug 2005|02:49am]
Everybody thinks they've got it figured out. Truth is, that's bullshit. Hollywood, its trends, where the wind is blowing in terms of the next "big thing"? Nobody freakin' knows. That's why I'm sitting back this summer casually ignoring all of this talk about horror "fizzling out." Yeah, it's a bummer to see Romero's Land of the Dead take a shunning. Or to witness Lions Gate's enthusiasm for High Tension and The Devil's Rejects get collectively squashed by an uninterested audience. But it's that shaky time of year, folks. I wasn't box office savvy when I was young and being taken to see summer fare like Fright Night, so I'm not sure if horror has always faced an uphill battle during the months of June, July and August. But I do know that nothing is certain during this time unless you're one of the big guns. (You'll get at least one helluva opening weekend.) Yet this year alone has proven that you can have major stars and an epic quality and still fall flat on your ass, hasn't it?

Reports say the last few months have been awful attendance-wise, that horror's taking a walk of shame, a drunken stumble down a back alley loaded on a few good performances by the likes of The Ring and the Texas Chainsaw Massacre remake. Fair enough. At least this year has given us diversity, though.

If you've got something to say about the slump, fine. Just don't try and give me solutions. Or predict horror's ultimate doom. Or at least act like you know how to steer the genre in a clear direction to success. Why? Because if you're a horror fan, you know we've been down this road before.

For some reason I get a copy of Movieline's Hollywood Life magazine shoved into my mailbox on occasion. This month writer Joe Queenan hopped on the slam wagon to talk about how scary The Ring was, horror's recent lack of fright value and to give a few recommendations to the studios on how to get the genre back on its feet. I agreed with him in a few respects, mainly his point on a strong screenplay being the key to a solid film. Then he said this, "If I were making the calls in Hollywood, I'd recommend a lot fewer creepy kids in the attic and a lot more creepy teens in the basement."

Teens. Teens, he says. Ignore the fact that Cursed was one of this year's failures. Ignore the idea that the genre collapsed under the weight of the hormonal imbalance it felt with the Scream clones.

Nobody knows jack. Suits can crunch their numbers. Take their test audience polls. Declare the zombie sub-genre passé (which many suits are doing, save for those who have a film in production). And some writers can come out of the woodwork to set their analytical gaze and suddenly become experts on a genre they will never be exposed to beyond what reaches the big screen. However, horror will still be and always remain that unpredictable factor. I know this much. It's a survivor. It comes and goes, and the fans will always remain.


[11 Aug 2005|09:14am]
Image hosted by Photobucket.com

Sleep, those little slices of death; Oh how I loathe them.
-Edgar Allan Poe


[29 Jul 2005|08:32pm]
today at work i met the newest seasonal amy, and uhm, worked (which is what work is usually for), and got paid, and my stomach hurts, i haven't eaten anything since like, some time yesterday evening. (except some certs. mmm, certs.)

so now my stomach hurts from hunger pains and from just being overall FUCKED.

i had some funny quotes (one about tinkerbell being a crackwhore, and a funnier one from james or mike last night), but im so fatigued feeling, that i can't remember.

i also, being the jack of all trades and proving i dont just ACT like i'm a know-it-all (i really, truly, do know everything) i had to show princess chris how to break into a car, becuase he locked his keys in his.

now i'm going to lay down and hope danielle comes over soon, because i feel like total utter super duper garbage today, i hope i dont have to drive anywhere, i dont have the energy, i'll probably die in a horrible car accident and lose my head and my arms but still not die right away, and just lay there limbless and headless for six hours until i finally die. so yeah, hopefully no driving.


yeah, if nobody comments i promise my eyeballs will start bleeding.


[25 Jul 2005|07:12pm]
Okay, I'm making this son of a bitch friends only, and taking everyone off my list except my girlfriend, because I'm a jerk.

Later tonight when I'm not lazy, I'll turn all my old entries friends only too.


comments for adds, fair trade, right?


[18 Jul 2005|12:46am]
tonight i made the screen name "viking RAPE" and i dont know why


[15 Jul 2005|05:08pm]
so i have had a craving for aaple pie all day today. not like crappy apple pie, though.

DEEP AND DELICIOUS APPLE PIE. if i wasn't broke, i'd be at bakers the fuck square right now, feasting. alas, i am broke. it was fun pigging out on cookies and watching poltergiest 3 with danielle. <3

also, at southland, they have a massage therapy booth thats massages for $1 per minute. i had a dollar. professional my ass, i've had better sixty-second massages before. i've also had better eggrolls that the ones from southland before, but that goes without saying.

IS IT BAD THAT IT'S ONLY JULY AND IM ALREADY GEEKED FOR HALLOWEEN OH-FIVE? just think, a couple more weeks, and some places (such as jo-anne fabrics) will start seeling the magic, and i will be there, the biggest smile i can have on my face, touching the ceramic jack-o-lanterns and witches that cackle when you push a button on their feet.


oh, and ps. i have nothing to do today.


[13 Jul 2005|03:07pm]

Last night Mike and I had discussions on being vikings and viking activites, like wearing helmets and jumping onto villages from the mountain, having beards, pillaging, drinking, and slaying beasts.

We also got free orange juice from McDonalds.

Damn, it feels good to be a gangsta.

also click here for more viking activityCollapse )


[11 Jul 2005|04:37am]
so i'm excited danielle's got her car and junk, so i dont have to drive to her all of the time.

also, happy birthday brad you 22 year old fuck.

oh, and berto is a queer/homosexual/lame/dipshit/cripple/moron, who's probably going to die for what he did to Amanda, whom is my good friend and i love very much.


[08 Jul 2005|02:04am]
this is a livejournal. a new one.

mike's red apple made him throw up, so we didn't pay for his part of the food.

we also vandalized the fuck out of the bathroom.

house keyskeyskeyskeys ma fucka, house keyskeyskeyskeys gah damn

or, in other words,

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