doom with a view

well the easter bunny came back from the dead and saw his shadow this sunday, so i guess that's a good thing. haven't been bloggin much. i will write something now. i think it will be nice to take a vacation to austin, i think i need to get out of missouri for a while, it's starting to bring me too irrevocably close to the brink of insanity. i fear that. got pretty sunburned for the first time in many years. i am suffering now for years of pale nerddom. i'll get over it. itches pretty badly and hasn't started peeling yet. hope these particularly uncomfortable days are coming to an end.

adam has made a pact with himself to get in shape this summer. i'm off to a pretty good start, now only to maintain the routine and habitualize it. adam does not want to be a skinny beanpole anymore. adam is 27 years old, and feels he looks 15. this is no longer acceptable, the flashing alarm went off, and now we're gonna take care of business.

i've also noticed a gradual increase in the amount of smoking that i've been doing, the antithesis of good health. just an extra one here or there. i'm officially noticing a pack a day disappearing, whereas for the years previous it has usually fallen short of that. giveth, and taketh away.

today is a mind numbing monday. usual bland, barely conscious routine. paperwork keeps me off the phone, that is a good thing. i must go buy vitamins and other things i can't remember right now. i see my tele and would rather do that for the rest of the day. i hate going to the store, making sobering appointments, meticulously applying inflection within the opportune moments in conversation in which they arise.

starlet sensibility and thursday

the shame about writing is that i can never sit and do it when the desire arises. all these great rants that i feel tend to come and go so quickly, all that i can muster out are a few sentences mildly recapping my once eager furor. i've been thinking a lot lately about the waiting to talk phenomena. so many people that i talk to never ask a question during a dialogue. it so tends to be a nodding monologue. . . i can do that myself at home. i'm not much of a drinker, never was. I can drink but i really need to be in the mood to get hammered. i can't hold my liquor. it's also not a reliable inebriation. the amount of alcohol is not always ratioed correctly with the level of uncoordination that ensues. . . random thoughts

i'm so sick of my job lately. i've been doing the same desk monkey crap for what is coming up on five years, and it pains me to assist the machine further. job security is such a double edged sword. sure you can stay where you are, but you have to stay where you are. it's not always that easy to answer. it would be so less complicated if i had a nest egg to sit on. i used up that moving. and now i'm moved, the money is gone, and a couple months in, the pattern starts over, with mild deviation.

i think about the beach/mild climates, i think about the lack of self awareness that comes from being somewhere as a temporary visitor, the ability to completely become enthralled, lost in thought, activity, because of the lack of familiarity. the mind is awash with activity, because all decisions and questions require thinking answers at first, no facet of the rut follows you (if you're lucky) i think about the pink floyd "goodbye blue sky" and nirvana "all apologies" medley that i've been working on in my head, seamlessly moving between the songs back and forth. should be cool when i'm done.

the culture of celebrity is amazing in it's ability to prey upon the human desire to be known (fame) and use such a fictional barrier to push it's agenda. famous people are regular people that me know because of media. and since we know them, they are famous. put on a pedestal for usually no particular reason. isn't everyone good at something?

when i get off on a tangent it tends to be quickly stated and dismissed after processed as too tangent to continue with. such as the last statement. we are all guilty of falling into the celebrity cult at one time or another. think of a celebrity you think is attractive, bam, you just fell into it. did lindsay lohan get her breasts reduced? most likely. i don't think i've ever seen her act or perfom in anything, and quite honestly, i could care less, but the celebrity gossip mill about such a trivial celebrity whim is enough to spark fervid lowkey gossip about it. sex sells people. i tell ya the smartest thing an up-and-coming celebrity can do is get her breasts done, it creates instant chatter, ie, interest.
(for the record, based on the photos i've seen, lindsay did have her breasts ridiculously enlarged, and then reduced. . . and for the record, it was a stupid move, better to be known as the young, talentless starlet with the comically oversized rack than as a medium level pinup swilling G-Rated happy endings for disney, teething with conservitive edits.)

tired of writing now.

when you absolutely positively have to kill every mother fucker in the room. . . accept no substitutes

i saw the best minds
of my generation
destroyed by madness,
starving, hysterical

i should be allowed to shoot my mouth off
i should have a call in show

i should be allowed to think

blimey, what is happening to the world? the walls are coming down around me. at least i feel better last couple days. you can't fight city hall. no time to stall, must go back to work soon, write write write, keep it moving, so what to write about? how about bears. stephen colbert hates bears. they need to get off their pushy bear agenda. tom delay resigned. he was corrupt. . . who know? ok what else do i know? um, today had the whole 123456 date number thing, that was abrupt and mildly trivial. god told me to be less cynical, ok, maybe not god. coulda been me, what's the difference?

never hungry, never excited, always moving forward without an ultimate goal. my dad tells me to at least be happy that i get to go home every night. i guess that's a good thing, but the pendulum swings both ways. . .
what's so great about being at home? i guess a lot of things. all my stuff is there. my livelihood stems from my home base. birds chirp and maury sits in the window. my computer hums. gotta find a header pic and back to work with me.