I'll Stab You To Death And Then Play Around With Your Blood

So, in other words: Happy fucking Halloween, bitches!

This is my favorite time of the year. I have a theory as to why, and it involves several things. Let's dissect my life, shall we? I'll lay down on the couch and tell you all about my childhood.

First of all, my birthday comes just before Halloween. My mom used to tell me that I fell off of a witch's broomstick and that's where I came from. That's right. No stork for me. And I loved hearing that.

I spent most of my childhood growing up on a farm out in the middle of nowhere just past Waterloo, Illinois. My family used to throw a HUGE family Halloween/my b-day/my sister's b-day party every year. We'd set up a gigantic bonfire and the adults would get intoxicated and show up in costume. My mom and dad were Batman and Batgirl in homemade costumes, one year.

We had a large, red barn on this property. My parents, relatives and neighbors would all get together and turn this already creepy building into a haunted house. The sariest damn thing I remember was our neighbor (we called him Crazy Joe, since he once told a story of finding burglars eating his Kentucky Fried Chicken in his kitchen and they threw him in the woods)who created a bizarre and frightening costume that was some kind of mutated or skinned or something sheep. Thinking back on it, I know it was just foam-sponge that he carved up and crawled inside, but with the lighting and atmosphere, when this thing came at you with blood and whatever on it, and grabbed your legs, I nearly pissed myself. He must have been quite toasty inside that get-up. Way to go, Crazy Joe. I remember that to this day and it's still creepy.

So, there's that aspect. Another ties into the whole growing up in the middle of nowhere. I spent a lot of time by myself running around the forest and using my imagination. Once, in college, we were doing an acting exercise about what we used to play as kids. Everybody else was talking about war, cops and robbers, cowboys and Indians, all nice little games you play with other people present, usually. It came to be my turn and all eyes were upon me. I calmly stated that I had never really played those things, but I did play.....Werewolf! And as I screamed the last word, I leaped into the air and landed on the back of a classmate and pretended to rip her throat out. Scared the shit out of the room. And that was at a Christian college. heheh

And, I'll wrap it up with my final observation. I grew up watching classic horror flicks every weekend. Every saturday would start with cartoons and Land of the Lost when it was on. But at 11 a.m. channel 11, here in St. Louis, would play either some classic horror flick or a Japanese kaiju (giant monster) flick. The second flick would usually be sorta sci-fi and the third was some film I usually had no interest in. Like a western or something. But for 2 to 4 hours I was in heaven.

This caused a non-problem once. My school had these orange books that I used to read over and over. One was about Godzilla, another Dracula, another Mad Scientists, etc... I had seen pictures of a flick called The Mole People and read about it, but had never seen it. One Saturday, it was showing on Ch.11. My dad happened to be in town on that same weekend and I was supposed to be helping with all of the yard work and stuff. But I really wanted to see that damn movie! I slipped off and back into the house, covered myself with an afghan and peeked through a hole to watch it. (This was my feeble attempt at hiding. I mean, you definitely couldn't see that I was under the afghan, right?) I asked my mom to not tell dad where I was. He came in later and I could hear there conversation just feet from where I lay. My mom didn't SAY where I was, when he asked, but I could hear in her voice the smile as she is pointing in my direction. My dad let it pass and went back to working outside. Gotta love my parents.

Speaking of, my parents never really understood my obsession with all things horror. I remember my father saying, once: "You don't need to watch that crap" when I was begging to not do something so I could watch a horror flick. I don't hold that against him, though.

After my dad died, we moved from the beautiful country into Columbia, IL and I started to write bad poetry. I had a subscription to a horror magazine with interviews and news on upcoming and older films. My mom grilled me as to why I liked "those kind of movies". And I also ended up having to see a shrink. (Seeing mental specialists would be a recurring theme for me for quite a few years.)

So, to sum it up, I fucking love Halloween.

I'll tell the Godzilla story later. That's a pretty good one.

Nix says: Oh, yeah! Plus the changing leaves and the smell in the air and the cooling temperature....those help, too.

Crash And Burn

Well, here's a less personal post. We're gonna talk film.

For those of you that don't really know me, movies are my life.

For some reason, I'm thinking about this not quite good flick from the early 90's.

Robot Jox.

Seen it? I know it's been on cable, recently, which is probably why it's stuck in my head. Before we discuss the movie, a little film history for you.

The 80's were very kind to low-budget, independent filmmakers. You could actually get your movie released into the theater. Especially horror movies. Re-Animator is an amazing success story. It killed at the box-office, became a cult favorite and definitely helped Stuart Gordon's career. The guy wrote Honey, I Shrunk The Kids and would have directed, as well, but health issues interfered. And let's not forget Evil Dead I and II. Release unrated, for fuck's sake.

This brings us up to the early 90's. The major studios are making horror, again and the little guy has been pushed almost completely out of the theaters. Sure, occasionally Night of the Demons will slip in, but it is a rarity.

Charles Band's Empire Pictures was responsible for some of the good stuff, like Re-Animator and From Beyond. (Sadly, now all he makes is retarded movies about killer puppets and dolls. WTF?) Empire had been working on a Transformers rip-off for some time. Stuart Gordon was directing and the FX were being done old-school stop-motion style. They completed it and it actually played in theaters, which is where I caught it. It was not that good as a whole, but had plenty of positive aspects. One, of course, was the FX by David Allen (I think.). There's something about stop-motion that brings a sense of "realism" to giant robots. (I know, that sounds contradictory.)

Anyway, the story is kinda interesting, as well. It's after WWIII and humans have abandoned warfare with bombs. Now they get inside giant robots and fight in an outdoor arena to decide who gets what continent and whatnot.

The movie really stretches its budget to the limit and does an admirable job at it.

Of course, we're really here for the robot battles and they do not disappoint. They have nifty weapons and at one point go flying around and turn into tanks and shit. Right the fuck on!

You can giggle at some of it's inadequecies, but overall, if you're a sci-fi, Transformers or Mech fan, you'll have a good time.

What's funny is that to wish eachother luck, they say "Crash and burn". It sounds cool, and all, but when you're about to go battle it out in giant robots crashing and/or burning doesn't seem like a good thing. But I digress...

Nix says: 4) You have to watch it.

In My Field

I don't really have a field. I don't farm and I never completed college. For me, college just seemed like a way for those bastards to milk me for every penny I had. Me: "Hi. I'd like to be an actor." Them: "Good for you. Study math and you can have a degree in acting." Me: "WTF?" As you can see, it made no sense at all to me. I don't need to measure the stage to the degree of x squared on an inclined plane. Fuck you.

I spent most of my life being berated by my mother for not utilizing the intelligence I was born with. I constantly heard how high my IQ scores were. How I could do better than everyone around me. (Having retested, yes, they are quite high) My mom was a teacher, though. To this day, she harps on the point of me going back to college. Well, what the hell would I major in? After my first year in college I burnt out on the whole acting thing. Is there a travelling salesman school I can attend? I believe I've found what I truly enjoy and want to do for the rest of my life. I'm a pot-salesman. (cookware, you fools)

My mother also constantly tries to "save" me. She's very religious. (Perhaps all this mother talk is coming out because I'm feeling guilty since I haven't talked to her in so long.) Yes, yes, I'm going to be "left behind" and burn in the fiery pits of hell for all eternity. I know, mom. Whatever makes you feel comfortable. I'll just sit over here with my Teachings of Buhdda. See, we're kinda quiet about our beliefs. We don't feel that it is our duty to convert the world to our way of thinking. And btw, you're the one who brought this book and way of life into my world. Way to go! You lost a potential convert by showing them a different way of looking at life!

I was born Catholic. Raised Babtist. Turned Mormon. Even got tangled up in the Scientology thing.

IT'S ALL BULLSHIT!

Forget this "higher power" crap. It really is all about you. Take responsability for yourself. Make yourself a better person. You are your own "god". You control your life. Quit making wishes (praying) and fucking do something.

Sorry for all of you religious folks out there. I'm sick of you getting in my face and telling me I'm an evil person for not believing what you believe. Fuck you.

Nix says: Now I go skip through the forest in peace.

Oh, The Things That You Will See

I believe that's the title of a Dr. Seuss book. Or at least close. I don't feel like doing the research required to confirm it.

Well, it's here. I'm 31. And I feel pretty good. Aside from that pesky grey hair and the fact that I'm trapped in Mormon country.

The little Asian guy actually bought me a beer last night. Total shock. That was nice of him.

I've experienced some amazing things in my life. Quill once suggested that we make a documentary about me. I wasn't totally comfortable with that, but it IS a pretty good idea. I thought I might just share some of my more memorable memories in this blog.

When I lived in Cali, I once invited a hooker who was talking to me at my front steps into my apartment so that she could at least wash her feet. She was wearing sandals and looked like she'd been walking all day. And that was it. Of course, I was propositioned, but that wasn't what I was going for. She was cute and all and about my age. She seemed kinda fucked up on something, too. But I just talked with her for a while. We stood on the roof of the building and looked out over the city and the ocean and I learned more about this girl than anyone had probably tried to in years. And I wasn't trying to fuck her. And after letting her get somewhat cleaned up and offering her a beer, I wished her well and she was gone. It was quite an experience. I wonder where she is, now. If she's alive. If she's still fucking for money. Or if she got off the fucking drugs and did something with herself. I'll never know. I hope for the best for her.

Well, that's kinda sappy. But that's what happened.

For some craziness to balance this out, I offer you this:

I used to see this girl in the 'Lou. She lived in the city and we'd get beer and smoke and fuck. We decided to go to one of the parks nearby and check out this concert. Like a jazz band or something. A big family deal. And there were quite a few families there. Very nice. We set up our blanket and cooler towards the back, but still in the middle of everything. Good music. Good times. Then she started to take my pants off. What!? Yes. We had sex in the middle of all those people. Then we packed up and left ASAP.

Or how about this L.A. story?

I went to a fetish club for some dancing and whatever. I noticed a line of people standing at a door in the back. Curious, I joined the line. As I was waiting, I turned to the girl behind me and asked what was going on and if I had to pay. She laughed and observantly guessed that I had never been there, before. She took hold of my hand and we went in together. Inside, there were chairs set up before a little stage and on the stage a guy had two girls tied to chairs and was "torturing" them with a device that sent electrical shocks. Me and the girl sat towards the middle of the audience and watched as he teased them to orgasm. The girls were volunteers from the audience. A new girl was picked and as it got going, the girl I was now with, undid my freakin' pants and started to masturbate me. I was a little freaked and looked around. Yes. People were watching and I reached over and started to do the same to her. We finished up about the same time the show did and then left.

Hmm...Seems to be a lot of sexual stuff going on here.

I was going to talk about some more stuff in the 'Lou, but I've said enough. Life is crazy and full of amazing things. I look forward to more experiences and mind-blowing stuff.

Nix says: Yes. I am a pervert.

Beyond The Realm Of Reason

I seem to be inundating this blog with post after post after post. But that's what it's here for.

Less than 24 hours until my B-Day. I can hardly wait. There's a huge party planned by the staff of the hotel. We're gonna have beer and chicks and music and....

Ok, that's a total lie. I'm gonna be sitting alone at this laptop looking for entertainment and companionship.

This trip is a total bust. Not only am I missing out on the things I love most (the changing of the leaves, haunted houses, friends) but we haven't even covered fucking expenses. Shit, I've done two demos with only two couples. That was worth it. And I did one for 3 couples. Fuck. I should have just done this trip on my own.

I'm sitting here yearning for some kind of human interaction from non-strangers.

Nix iz listening to Love and Rockets. I dunno the album. But it's not Sweet F.A., which is his usual.

I'm using my past Mormonism as a connection to the couples I see. Perhaps that could be seen as underhanded, as I am currently practicing no religion. But I tell them why I am no longer practicing their belief system. It all comes down to the story of my life: I'm a bit too out there for anyone to fully accept.

Well, fuck all of you. I can't help who I am. Mr. Asian-sports-guy is boring as hell. I'm a freak. I was born that way. I've dealt with this my whole life. I spent years being picked on, beat on and laughed at. But I never fucking changed. What happened? After awhile, when the assholes realized they couldn't subvert me, they let me be and left me alone. I didn't have to fight. I didn't have to make cheesy 80's speeches. I just stayed true to myself. (Question, this is something you should think about. We both think that if we act like others do that perhaps things will change. They will. For the worse.) High School was the ultimate payoff for me. I had to beat chicks off with a stick. (That sounds perverted, but you know what I mean.) Hell, college was almost the same, except girls started playing some stupid game: "I like you, but I pretend to not like you."

I don't know what I'm talking about. My life flashes before my face.

Nix says: Writing helps to fight off the depression of living.

Only Able To Love When I'm Not Afraid To Live

But I sure am able to be afraid to die.

Or am I?

I can never decide if I embrace the dark and comforting nothingness of death or if I want to run and fight for life.

I'm sure much of it comes from the fact that I'm still thrashing my head about in search of someone or something that gives me a reason to continue being me.

So far, there hasn't been one person that can REALLY take me for me and understand and deal/cope with what I represent. (well, we won't get into that, since it has been proven wrong)

And even if I did find that one special person...I would run and hide. Or I would be a dick.

Why? Because even in attempts at not-too-serious interactions I have been pushed away. I'm "creepy". My friends got involved (ooo...that's my fault? What the fuck ever.) When I try to make fun of dance moves (the lawn sprinkler, the lawn mower, etc...) The bitch thought I WAS FUCKING TRYING TO IMPRESS HER WITH MY DANCING PROWESS.!!! Aggghhhh!!!!

So. My shields are up. My armor is strapped on. And all you fucking bitches can fuck off. I'm going back where it is safe. Inside myself.

Nix says: I can't believe your contradictory bullshit. Look at what is in front of you.

The Book Of ... This City Sucks

Oodah, I hate you. Your stupid laws and stupid uptight people that won't even drink caffeine. Those stupid people that take great offense if you even mention the consumption of alcohol. The way you name your streets "North West 4500 South North Street" and shit. The way you encourage me to read your even more fictionalized book that justifies your existence. The way I'm FUCKING TRAPPED HERE DURING MY FAVORITE TIME OF YEAR AND ON MY FUCKING BIRTHDAY WITH NOT A GODDAMN FUCKING THING TO DO, YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So, to sum that up, I really don't like being in Oodah, right now. I wasn't sure if that was clear to any possible readers, or not. Just thought I would clarify.

I contemplated whether or not I should post this next part and finally decided I should:

My birthday is arriving on 10/26/05 (you won't find that on the forum, for some reason, and I can't fix that). Thought I would let those who might be considering presenting me with a gift know that I have not purchased the Land of the Dead Unrated DVD, the Evil Dead II Book of the Dead II DVD, or I dunno, some other fucking shit ass stupid bloody horror flick that makes everyone look at you like a freak DVD, either.

I'm not saying I'm looking for anything. Hell, I won't even be there to celebrate my next step closer to the grave with anyone. I'm trapped in an icy hell with a tiny asian man that I'd like to kill. (Hmmm, I wonder if anyone can pick up my negativity. I sure hope not. Note to self: Do not talk to yourself in print.)

I'm missing Doom. I'm missing whatever the hell is going the fuck on. I'll be back the day before Halloween. Yay. I get to be totally exhausted! Yay, assholes! Yay!

And what the fuck is it with everyone having their IM's go to their fucking cell phones for like 4 goddamn days straight? I don't send messages to cell phones unless I absolutely have to. It starts with the fact that it could possibly cause you money and continues that you could be driving about. My IM contact list is slowly filling up with cell phone icons that never change and it's pissing me off, because I never know if you fools are actually on or off or masturbating or slaughtering puppies in satanic rituals as you snap your fingers in a display of power.

Wow. Nonsensical rant.

Well, I'm gonna take my negative self to bed, I suppose.

Nix says: *snap snap snap*

How Gay Can You Get?

This post may piss off some people. (And I don't mean homosexual people.)

ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL!!!?????

I came back to the room, since Tommy isn't in it. He left the TV on, as usual. And it's on ESPN, as usual. Lot's of football talk. I didn't feel like messing with the TV and just logged on for the first time today.

Am I the only one that notices, not only how retarded it is to talk about this shit for hours on end, but it also comes off as very homo-erotic.

"He just slid it up the gutter."

"He just put it in there. He knew where that vacant hole was."

"They've got to beat them very hard."

"He's got good hands."

Jesus fucking christ! I'm not looking at the TV, but my head is making me think these idiots with nothing better to do than make these creepy comments are sitting around fondling each other as they watch footage of big, strong men wearing tight, shiny pants who slap each other's asses when they're happy!

Agghhh!!!!

Nix says: Hopefully, that was amusing. It was meant to be. But, seriously! That shit they say is goddamn creepy!!!!!

What Is Wrong With You?

I'm gonna get personal, here.

What the fuck do you have against Quill?

This guy has been there for all of you. He's forgiven you for very wrong things you've said or did. He's attempted to make you feel loved and welcomed.

I didn't even like the guy when I first met him.

You've known him for years!! Jesus!

He's proven to be a reliable, dependable and worthy friend.

If I were to have to choose someone to back me up, he's the guy. That fucking dick.

Nix says: Not to say that I don't appreciate all the rest of you.

It's Fun And Exciting And Delicious!!!!!!!

Feel better. Land of the Dead rocked.

Thank you, Steve, for spending time with me.

Thank you, Dave, for also spending time with me.

Nix says: Everybody check your watches, dammit!

Ok. Ok. Calm Down, Dammit.

I'M OKAY!!!!

Sorry, was I shouting? Oops.

Sing along with Mr. Rollins: "I AM THE FREAK! I AM THE FREAK!"

Ok. Most of you probablly don't know that song.

Much thanks to Dave for having me over yesterday. He and I have been on a zombie kick, lately. I picked up the Undead dvd for that reason and then I fell asleep halfway through. My schedule is so fucked up.

Call me Mr. Shaky-Legs. I'm up at 4 a. m. and twitching like a crack-addict. (And I don't do crack.)

I guess I'm just terrible at connecting with the female species. Looks like I fucked it up, again.

Oh, well. There's always internet porn. heheheheh

Nix says: I really liked her, too.

Oh, Sh*t!

I don't know what to say.

Everything is just eff'd up.

Help!

Nix says: If I needed you, I would have called you. Or you would have called me. Either way, thanks.

Watching It All Drain Away

Oh, woe is me. Waaahhhh! Bitch. Whine. Complain. Sob. Mope.

I hate talking about my depression. Those doctor people tried to get me to take meds, but I absolutely HATED them. And if an anti-depressant is making you even more depressed, there is something kinda wrong, there.

I wish I could just dazzle all of you with some fantastic revelation, but I'm no magician. Just me, my head and my bullshit.

Usually, when I leave town for work, I feel better. But this time I feel no comfort. If anything, I feel worse.

Have you ever felt that if you could just curl up tight enough, that maybe you wouldn't exist, anymore? And nothing could touch you? If only that really worked. (It doesn't. I've tried.)

And this isn't even really about companionship or relationships or anything. This is just a general feeling of emptiness.

Does talking about it help? Yes, actually. I know most people couldn't even care less about all of my little head-trips. But it is freeing to send all of these thoughts out into the vastness of existence. Fly, my fucked up little friends, fly! Disperse and be no more!

I suppose I'm really just looking for support and have no way to get it, considering all of my friends are hundreds of miles away from me. *sigh* Bitch. Whine. Moan.

My life isn't that bad. I have friends, family, a den. My job is great.

It's just my head. Sometimes I can't control what it does to me. I know what's happening but I can't stop it from happening.

Fuck it. I get home tonight. Hopefully I'll be able to visit with someone. That would help.

Nix says: Chop that chicken, bitch!

I Want Someone To Share With Me.

I'm sitting 14 stories above the rest of you.

I look down and want to be part of what you have.

I want to feel that I have a reason for living.

Everything is scattered and fucked. Chaos.

You. You know who you are. You tricked me! You made me think that we could be together with no real intention of following through with that.

And I'm still fucking here for you. What the hell is wrong with me?

You can step all over me, crush me, break me.

I let you do that. I guess I just keep living with the hope that someday you'll accept us and let us be together for the rest of our lives. . I'm retarded. It's never gonna happen, and I know that.

Why am I even spewing all of this, right now? You don't even read this. And it solves nothing.

Nix says: "I really only want a few things. They've all been taken away."

Ouch, You Bastards!

@ Quill: Very true.

You and I have discussed the situation.

Hell, Andrea and I have discussed the situation.

Does Andrea dislike me? Doesn't seem like it, as we still talk on the phone and she comes over just for fun.

It's the judgement without merit that bothers me. I'll quote Hizz verbatim: "I don't accept handouts." See, I had to SHOVE FUCKING MONEY INTO HER PURSE in order for her to take what I offered.

I tried many times to help her financially, if that's what it comes down to.

I also told her as soon as I realized what was happening and we BOTH decided to continue on the chosen path.

Listen up, all of you who view me as an asshole:

You're entitled to your opinion. But perhaps you should actually listen to the person you think was wronged. From what said person tells me, it should all be chalked up to bad judgement.

And if you still harbor ill feelings towards me, just come out and confront me, personally.

And if you don't have enough nerve to talk about it like adults, I'm done with you. Quit treating me like shit without reason. Find out what really happened and fucking listen.

Nix says: Introducing the new "dick": Nix!

The Sun Catches The Shadows

I'd just like to get this out, in case I never have the opportunity to tell it to your face.

I would never intentionally hurt someone. DO YOU HEAR ME??

Some of those out there seem to think that I fucked up someone else's life with no regard to their well being.

It was a mutual fuck up. We both did things and let things happen that we shouldn't have.

If you want to place all the blame on me, fine. That just means that you didn't want to be my friend to begin with. Good-day, sir or madam. And fuck off.

And if you have a problem with me, why haven't you actually TALKED to me about it?

It's really easy to talk shit and not confront the issue or whom you view at fault.

Before I go further into this bullshit, I sign off.

I want everyone to be my friends and family. But if you want to play these little games, I don't need you near me.

Nix says: I tried.

Transdermal Celebration

Why am I awake so damn early? Why do I feel so damn good? Hey, your guess is as good as mine.

Well, my birthday is rapidly approaching. Soon, I shall be *cough hack* agghh! 31.
But I'm ok with that. 30 was the the tough one. From here on out, it's just taking those steps closer to the grave. I mean, I already have a few grey hairs hiding in that thing living on top of my head.

Earlier yesterday, I had been up for over 24 hours. Not because I was doing LSD or anything. I was awake for the majority of our drive back from Texas and then had to take care of bills and stuff. After a certain point, you start to see tracers and stuff and I guess it was kinda like doing LSD, only without the joy of knowing you were doing something wrong, instead of doing what needed to be done. Fucking responsibility, dependability, and lots of other words that end in "ility".

BTW, I've figured out why there seem to be an inordinate amount of missing letters when I type these blogs up. It makes my 'top run really goddamn slow, so it gets fucking confusing and annoying. But fuck yall's milk. I can spell, dammit.

Do I have anything of substance to say, or am I just gonna sit here and let my head tell my hands what it's thinking? I dunno. Let's find out. Let me get in contact with my head.............

Ok. Earlier last night I was cleaning (doesn't it always seem as if I'm fucking cleaning, yet nothing is ever clean? I guess me and that guy from Vast have something in common.) and sat down to take a break. Damn, that depression started to creep back in. It pissed me off.

I spent the whole weekend thinking of all the things I needed to do to start to improve my outlook on life. That starts with cleaning and organizing my surroundings. If I can get my dwelling in order, perhaps it will be easier for me to get myself in order (as much as that is possible).

I've thrived on chaos for longer than I can remember. It's part of my personality, sure, but I want my den to be comfortable and tidy.

One thing at a time, starting with my den, dammit. YES, A FUCKING "DEN"! You call it an apartment or whatever you want.

Anyway, perhaps if one of us can break this cloud of shit that hangs above us, it can help disperse it for the others. (I'm not being pompous, you fuckers. I'm just being ....oh my god...optimistic. Holy shit. Bob! He's here! heheheheh.)

Nix says: Good luck and lots of love to all.

Try To Find The Balance?

I thought I might try that whole stupid "Let's weigh the good with the bad" thing, just for the hell of it. I'll list good as numbers and bad as letters.

1) I'm single.
Yeah. That's good! I can do whatever I want. Watch whatever I want. I can have anyone over that I want. And I can meet lots of interesting girls and try to get to know them. Nice!

A) I'm single.
That's weird. On both lists? Here's the downsides. I'm lonely. I feel like I'm unlikable, unworthy and unwanted. I have no idea how to interact with the female race. I think that's enough.

2) I have a job.
Yes! I make money. I get to travel. I meet all sorts of interesting people. It's changed my approach to conversation with strangers (ie:women). I love what I do and want to do it for the rest of my life.

B) I have a job.
Again? Dammit! I'm financially fucked, right now. If I ever DO find someone willing to accept me as a boyfriend, I'll never be around to be there for them.

3) I'm crazy!
You never know what's gonna happen next. I love life and love to laugh.

C) I'm crazy.
Agh. You never know what's gonna happen next. I hate existing and am prone to SERIOUS bouts of depression.

4) I'm a romantic.
I have so much to offer women. I'm caring and snuggly. I do most anything to make them happy.

D) I'm a romantic.
You've got to be KIDDING! I'm easily hurt, bruised and broken. I often feel I'm to blame.

5) I (belive) I have many friends.
I have support and love and fun. And I support and love them, as well.

E) I am some form of me at various times.
I randomly help, offend, upset, heal, cheer these friends. I guess that all stems back to the whole "crazy" thing. Whatever.

Well, it was fun to try that out. I go to bed, now. 4 shows tomorrow.

Nix says: Your mother was a couch. And I sat on her, repeatedly.

Fire Bad!

I tried to post last night, but the whole damn Blogger site was down for maintanence or whatever. So, the carefully worded post was lost forever.

I am leaving for Texas. And I'm actually looking forward to it. Hoping some actual sales get done. Hooray for Texas!

I believe I'm calming down, a bit. My dreams were not so bleak, last night. Dreamt of penguins and whales and hanging out with some girl. I don't know who she was, but we had a fun, happy time.

Things on the Bug Juice forum are entertaining. We're all doing this story together and you never know what the hell is gonna happen. The weird thing is, it is somehow art imitating life. Oooo...Deep.

Nix says: Who wants a chocolate-bar? Anyone? I'm offering. Ok, well, it's here if you want it. How about a soda? Some water? How about some chips? I have some peanuts, if you're in the mood for those. Ok. Well, I offered.

Fiction vs. Reality

I've gotten myself in trouble, again. It seems that pointing out the fallacies inherent to television reality shows makes you an asshole.

Let's say you want to take up the past-time of sky-diving. Judging from T.V., you'd assume that there would be some young guy from some popular show shouting encouragement at you as 6 cameras film your daring jump.

In reality you pay your $300 and board a plane with 16 other "extreme enthusiasts" and jump when an underpaid "specialist" tells you to do so. You then fall towards the ground and hope that the person that helped you pack your 'chute actually gave a shit.

Which brings me to my whole point: The Sci-Fi channel. COME THE FUCK ON!!! These are the people that brought us that "Crossing Over" show. "I'm going to totally make shit up and you will love me."

Are we supposed to believe that these suits will bring us "reality"? You gonna go ghost hunting? You really want to introduce a new team member for each excursion? DOES THAT MAKE ANY FUCKING SENSE???

So, I'm an ass for trying to explain that if you REALLY want to do some ghost hunting, that you probablly shouldn't base your approach on what you see on the Sci-Fi channel.

Nix says: But that's just the opinion of a dick-head.

No Sleep 'Till...... about another hour or so

I just wanted to take this time to tell everyone how pleased I am to have met them.

Bug Juice, especially.

Since my previous group is broken up and scattered, I am very happy to have a new family. Most of you have accepted me and made me feel welcome.

If you like having the Nix around, we should all thank Spawn for introducing me to the group. I remember hearing stories and shit when we worked together and wanting to meet all of you. Thankfully, that happened. And my life has been changed forever.

If you don't like having me around, well... Fuck off. Heheheheh.

Seriously, all the chaos and confrontations, it's all part of being a family. And that's what we are. I'd go down in a hail of bullets or a fiery blaze for many of you. You mean that much to me.

Thank you for letting me be part of you.

Nix says: Sappy-ass bullshit.

Snuggle-Puppies

Well, wow. Umm...Yeah.

I had a very good night. I spent time with my little ex-nun friend and wavered from interesting to personal topics.

She's quite a person. She probably still thinks I just want to fuck her, but I tried to disperse those thoughts. Here's how I stopped the stammering and shit: "If we spend more time together, can I hold you and be close to you?" Her: "Yes." Me: "Fine. We're good to go, then."

We didn't really do anything, to be honest. Just enjoyed eachother's company. And that's just fine.

For all you peepers: I asked if I could kiss her. She said no. Which I understand. Like I said. She's an ex-nun.

Nix says: Hungry and tired.

Dear Roast-Beef Sandwich

Oh. Ok. I get it, now.

I was beginning to wonder why you were so not concerned that others may have some pre-concieved notions about me and you, Roast beef sandwich.

Thanks for reminding me why.

It looks like you actually ENJOY looking like the one who did nothing wrong in our encounter together. Roast beef sandwich, does it make you feel better to get all that pity? Does it make you feel vindicated? From the amazing little ditty you re-introduced me to, it sure seems that way.

Why not mention how I murdered puppies in front of you, as well?

So you're going to speak to Au Jus sauce about "tact". Well, thanks. Be sure to tell them which fork goes on which side of the plate while you're at it, Roast beef sandwich.

In the meantime, I'll just amble on over to Country fried steak and fuck their whole lives up without their permission, as well. And then it's on to totally take advantage of Ms. Cold-cuts on wheat bread.

You see, I not only love women, I love to make them miserable. It's my main form of entertainment.

So, Roast beef sandwich, fuck all that noise and I'll just drown out your head-trip with a shit-load of ranch dressing.

Nix says: Nice meeting you. Can I have fries with that?

You've Got To Move It! Move It!

Sorry. Dance party flashback.

Last night was Heather's B-Day party. Whee! Lot's of fun. Loud, chaotic and well worth it.

I met up with everyone at 10, after they'd been drinking since 8, and then we headed to M.P. O'Reilly's. (Scary thought: This was one night where I should have been the driver. heheheh)

Somehow, the girls got me out on the floor for some "dancing", if you can call my Frankenstein-monster moves "dancing".

There were a couple Playboy bunny chicks there, which was actually kinda annoying.

I ended up getting to know a girl I have been interested in, though. She's a sweetie and we should be doing something together that is more conducive to conversation at some point in the future.

Only one near confrontation. And I won't go into it, because it was just a possible misconception on the other person's part. I'll just say this: There is a time and fucking place for everything. And that wasn't either, asshole.

I've had new glasses for a month now. I forgot to mention that.

I have a license to drive.

I have recieved an invite to visit my ex-nun friend and may very well accept on Sunday. (Some of you know who I speak of.)

That is all, loyal whoever the hell you people are.

Nix says: Ain't got no time for the jibba-jabba! (Shit. Mr.T said that.)