| I feel fantastic and I'm still alive. Still alive, still alive. |
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| 11:21pm 27/04/2009 |
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mood:  pessimistic
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Life sucks and it doesn't get good, but at least now I've got a track to follow and a goal to get to. Here's hoping the collective shitwad we call earth will hold together long enough for me to get to that point.
Also, I'm online again, bitches. Been a while I know but I really had no use for this thing outside of vidjamagames. I'm over it now. I'll be back to complaining in regular scheduled fashion soon enough. |
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| In honor of an old friend. |
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| 07:12pm 16/12/2006 |
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mood: sad
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Two years ago I found an adorable little brown mouse under my fridge. The girl had just barely opened her eyes and I feared she might die if left to be. After some goading and empty promises, my mom allowed me to keep her in a small aquarium until she grew enough to survive in the wild. I'd named her Buboni, in hope. Well, she survived, grew considerably and was released into the wild. I even made sure not to let her become too attached to people so that she would have a better chance.
Shortly afterwards, my mom decided that small rodents can be charming and adorable. She brought me to my sister's friend's house. Her family kept six snakes and raised rats for feeding. I was told to pick two. I picked an albino and a brown spotted rat. The albino became Frank and the spotted one became Dean, after the two founding members of the Rat Pack. I have a tendency to name pets after references I find interesting.
Two months ago, I was told that my apartment was revising the pet policy, and that my beloved rats would have to go. I brought them back home to my parents, where I knew my mom would give them the treatment and love they deserve.
Today I was told to look at Dean. Since last night she's developed a large soft lump under her leg, approximately where the bladder is. It is too sudden and soft to be cancer. I fear that something internal has ruptured, and that she won't make it long. What's worse, I can't afford to bring her anywhere that could help her.
She looked up at me with those beady brown eyes. I can tell she doesn't want to be held; she never was one for holding. Frank has been lying on her the entire day. They were always inseperable. I'm glad to see they're together now.
I already miss my poor Dean. |
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Read 3 - Post |
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| Take the time to get to know me / If you want me why can't you just show me? |
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| 09:48pm 27/09/2006 |
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mood:  content music: Cake - Never There
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I'll keep her. The panic I get when I start things has passed, so it's all good now. But, to date, my record with women is as follows:
-Ideal Girl: She's perfect for what I like. She wants to keep me around as her closest friend, but waited four years to tell me her bisexuality leaned more to lesbian. Rock.
-Second Best: Quite similar to the ideal, but considerably more sane (albiet a bit less interesting and more self-righteous). Lesbian through and through, but wanted my kid for a while.
-Current Girlfriend: Bi, but doesn't want to deal with women. Somehow, I don't blame her. Hate to say it, but you girls confuse the hell out of me. This one not only likes me for who I am, she thinks I may be good dating material (poor little delusional babe). She was even kind enough to sit back and let me freak out for a while about the whole thing without leaving me (even though I was trying to call it off... As the last post said, I didn't know that I wanted a relationship right now.)
But hey, she's got a lot of qualities that I like and she likes a lot of my quirks. Might as well run with it, yeah?
Besides, she can pull of a Warcraft Succubus costume pretty well. That scores points. |
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| Oi, je ne sais pas. |
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| 05:49pm 25/09/2006 |
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mood:  contemplative music: Gnarles Barkley - St. Elsewhere
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J'ai une petite amie, mais je ne sais pas que j'en veux. Bien sur, elle est tres belle. Sa cheveux est gorgeous et sa corps et pres de parfait. Le problem est moi.
Je voudrais partir les Etats-Unis l'annee derniere. Si je sortirais avec Katherine, je ne voudrais pas partir. Il est un grand problem.
En l'autre mans, j'aime ma petite amie. C'est pas souvant une personne intelligente et interressante voyage dans ma vie.
Je reve une vie simple. La situation, c'est simple, mais je ne sais pas d'answer correct.
J'irais un peu emo, je sais. J'arretais parler maintenant. |
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| Now comes the point where I cry like a little bitch. |
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| 08:22pm 31/07/2006 |
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mood:  cranky music: Voltaire - When You're Evil
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E3...NOOOOOO!!!!!!!!
Please, please, pleaseplease pleasepleasepleaseplease don't go!
I want the super-convention! I want the shiny crap!
Give me my god-damned booth babes, god dammit!
Slackers, gamers, comarades! Let us fight this injustice, for a better tomorrow! |
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| Yaya, go life! |
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| 05:59pm 28/07/2006 |
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Day two of my vacation and my car dies. The service department at Trapp is closed by now and doesn't work on the weekends, so I'll hopefully get my car back monday.
If not, I miss my tuesday trip to the aquarium with Liz.
Maybe I'll miss my wednesday bullshit session with Dave.
I'll definitely have it back in time for my Thursday return to work, though.
Sometimes, I really hate being God's punchline. |
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| Conclusionings! |
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| 12:25pm 26/07/2006 |
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mood: amused music: MCR - Helena (I don't know why)
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I don't feel like typing the rest, but basically I
1. Didn't die.
2. Felt like crap for three days.
3. Vowed to never do that again.
Anyway, I have a job interview at Copelands today. If things go well I'll be tripling my income. I like that prospect. |
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| Blarrghtltopkerjkp;gtk |
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| 07:14pm 22/07/2006 |
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My trip is botched. I'd forgotten that financial aid hated me and wanted to screw me 'in a way that is neither sanitary nor pleasant'.
(Thank you, white mage. Carrie is white mage, did you know that? She's white mage and I'm black mage, such is why it can never work. Mais toujours, je veux se faire enculer. [if you understood that, kudos.])
Anyway, I can't afford to cross the country right now, nor can I set back my vacation time. I don't care what forces of the universe are conspiring against me, I will go to the desert. Unless that force is death. Death is kinda pushy, as far as forces go. There's little fighting against it. Anywhoo...storytime. I know this is an assortment of rough drafts, just as I know that the chapters end when I'm tired of typing. I'll fix it at a later point. For now, I just need to get it out.
Chapter 2: Shot to the heart, and you're to blame.
Some expressions make you glad you haven't pissed off any eye-gouging maffioso-types, and that was just the kind the bargirl was wearing.
"How many?" Apparently I stuttered. Or maybe her mind did.
"28."
"For who?"
"Me."
She looked to Deidre and found a quick nod. At Laura, just a shrug. I think it was my smile that got her moving, finally. If I could say that I charmed her, I would - boy, would I - but it's more likely that I scared her. My smile has pushed children to tears before.
Two fifths of Jack lay on the table before me. I'd taken my stool, a throne on which I'd reign as King Drunkard I. A gentle voice carried to my ear, "If you need help, just tell me." She had to have a gentle voice. That made shots 1 throught 5 easy. The cold glass before me made the rest managable.
"Here, chase it with a beer so you don't spew on the bar." Laura's always looking out for me. Mickey is still behind me, joined with the rest of Southern Whiskey Rebellion. How appropriate, the sport is liver decimation, the cheerleaders a metal band.
I won't recount every shot, I don't remember that much. The bargirl said her name was Shaery, which I doubt is true, but it's a nice name so I'll call her that. Call it a hunch, but somehow, I think she knew what I thought of her by shot 8. Somehow, I think everybody else in the bar knew what I thought of her by shot 8. Tanned, tall, thin. Glasses and a miniskirt. A brunette. And feeding me shots of Jack, to boot. If distraction was what I wanted, distraction was what I'd found.
By shot 11, I'd met random bitch. If this one had a name, I didn't care what it was. Older, black haired and wrinkled. I could've sworn she'd melt in the water. 20 minutes of glaring at us left me with the strangest feelings that she 1}didn't like us and 2)was a bitch.
By shot 15, I was informed that a 250-lb, face-pierced, hard-eyed biker-type admitted that I had much larger testicles than he.
Shot 18, and Shaery is quite impressed. At least, that's what I tell myself.
Shot 19 is taken amidst a love song to Shaery. By that point, I'm sure it was from the heart. It was definitely from the booze. Not that I wouldn't serenade her in a bar sober; I just would've sang better.
Shot 23, and I am voted 'The Man' by a bar of my peers.
Shot 25 upgrades me to 'The Shit'.
Shot 26, and the stakes are upped. Well, formed. Once only bragging rights awaited me, and suddenly I'm fighting for a shirt, a cd and VIP status to every show they play, ever.
Shot 27 goes down with a rush of victory.
Shot 28 comes up with a rush of sobriety.
The stars shine brighter than I thought they would. That might be the alcohol in my system. I've got 1.5 women carrying me back to their place. Random Bitch is yelling at us as we walk down the street. She'd hit Deidre in the rush to kick me out of the bar. We (read, 'I') were banned.
I felt bad. Not because I probably spewed on Random Bitch. Because I crescendoed my serenade to Shaery in the worst way.
I wish so many things. I wish I could get things I want. I wish life made sense. I wish a lot of things everybody wishes for. Here, I wish I could end this night by saying I slept, like a rock, for days, until I felt better.
No. I slept like a baby. A baby with a dog biting its face. I slept for five hours. I'd swear I died that night, except that the next day hurt too damn much to be eternity. |
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| 28 shots of inspiration |
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| 12:54pm 19/07/2006 |
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A brief aside, I'm going to miss my two favorite living musicians.
24th - Muse plays in Denver.
27th - My vacation starts, I go to Colorado.
28th - Deadboy and the Elephantmen plays in New Orleans.
Shit.
Anyway, on with the story.
Chapter 1: La Guerre de Boire, C'est une Bitch.
July 15, 2006
Yeah, I thought about it. How could I not? This isn't the kind of question a guy like me hears every day. I should have just gone with a no right away...but there were so many good things tied along with it. It really was a double-edged sword - I just didn't know which edge to gut myself with.
"Hey Brandon, a friend's having a party at the Crossing Bar. Wanna go?"
I don't usually go to bars. They're cramped, odd-smelling and full of drunk people that think I look like a teenage girl. It's not a great combination. If I didn't like pool, I'd never go. But for about six weeks my life had consisted of school-work-repeat, so I was up for anything. I nod.
"Cool. It's black and white casual dress. His name's Mickey and his favorite drink is Jack, so we're dressing in honor of a JD bottle. Can we go to the bank first?"
I nod. I do that a lot. We get in the car and head bankwards. It felt odd, being alone with Deidre, but I'd had a few chances to get accustomed since she'd asked. Besides, I didn't have to worry just yet anyway. I don't know when she wants one, but I know she's got a few plans that pregancy wouldn't further. So I drive to the bank and back to my appartment for a change of clothes.
"Oh, about the baby-making..."
I turn.
"...I want to be pregant by my birthday."
I turn back. She's more intent on breeding than I thought. So much for the years of planning I was expecting. That would've been convenient, maybe I could have made a decision by then. A real decision, anyway. While I was still buzzed at the hospital, I said yes. I wanted to make her happy and, well, I was buzzed. Most things sound like good ideas when I'm buzzed. When the full scope of what I agreed to hit me is when I started feeling crushed. Funny how sobriety equals confusion.
"Uh, uhm...uh. January?"
"Yeah."
I think more awkward moments passed in that two minute time span than in the rest of my life combined.
"Diedre, I...uh..."
She smiled. She's cute when she smiles. Of course, she's cute no matter what she does. "If things don't work out, don't worry...I've got a plan B. Another friend agreed to it a few years ago and he'll come down to visit."
She had wanted a kid before, when she was more settled. She had a good job, a nice home, and a donor. She lost everything but the donor.
I know, you're thinking "But Brandon, if she had a donor, why'd she ask you?" Answer? I'm just that damn cool. She'd have his kid, but she wanted mine. I was honored, but that made my choice harder.
"That might be best." That was it, I just went with it. Maybe I gave in to doubt, maybe I did what was best for me. It's hard to say. I still can't say. "I...I want to but...I...I get attached. I'd screw up."
"I thought about that. I'll go with him then. I don't want us to ruin things with one night of drunkeness." Honestly, I was as afraid of getting too attached to the baby as much as to her.
She didn't want to lose me either. I was finally getting somewhere that made sense. Diedre as old as I am and hasn't lived anywhere more than four years. She'd been taken from her mom, abused by her dad, and thrown around the world by so-called 'friends'. We've only really known each other for three months, but I'm the best friend she's ever had. Which, of course, made my decision harder.
Anyway, she gets her money, I get my clothes, and we get her girlfriend. Laura had showered and changed while we were gone. She still looked like a twelve year old boy. I don't think any amount of grooming will change that.
The Crossing Bar is a two minute walk from their house. Just as well, I didn't feel like fighting for a parking spot and I sure as hell didn't want drunks by my car...other drunks, anyway. We go in, Jack Daniels is two for one shots.
'Why not?' I thought. That's Mickey's drink, I'll take two shots for him. Oh, and a screwdriver. I don't know if he likes that, but I do, and that's more important. Laura introduces me to something called a push-up. I'm feeling pretty good. Mostly.
One day, I wasnt you to make the hardest choice you've ever faced in under two minutes. You'll want a drink too. My mind was still trying frying over it. Simmer some alcohol over a frying mind and you'll find the best recipe for making an idiot on Earth. I tell them my plan and I sit at the bar.
"You really gonna do this?" Laura knew, but she wanted to hear me say it.
"I can't believe you're going through with this. I'll go get him." Deidre was finding the guest of honor.
"Hey," I call the bargirl over. I was going to match Mickey, one for one. I had two down already.
"What can I get you?"
"Bring me 28 shots of JD." |
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| Finally, a use for my LJ. 90% truth by volume. |
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| 12:40pm 17/07/2006 |
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Story time, children. I'm placing this over a number of entries.
28 Shots of Inspiration
The story: A three month slice of life.
The players: Me (the ever-lovable Brandon)
Diedre
Laura
Mickey
Shaery
Random Bitch
Prologue: Prelude to a Hangover
May, 2006
Like any good story, this one is about man's insatiable desire for the simple things he cannot have. In other words, it's another boy-meets-girl story. The basics are all here - boy meets girl, boy wants girl but can't have her, boy deals with a lot of things because of girl.
So it's no surprise that this story starts with me being drunk. On Bourbon Street, becasue that's where any good Louisiana boy goes to get fit-shaced. Not my idea, of course. I was giving a tour to some friends. But still, I was drunk. And that's okay, because so were my friends.
Laura was my co-pilot. She can be cool as shit, once you get passed all the not-so-cool as shit attitude she gives new people. She'd downed a few things and was just sitting back in the passenger seat. I've seen smot pokers a lot less mellow than she was, and when you surround yourself with artists you tend to meet a lot of smot pokers.
Diedre was mostly in the back seat. I say mostly because she was dancing a lot. Dancing, stripping, and attracting a fuck of a lot of attention from everybody else on I-10 at that time of the morning. For the record, she's 'girl' in this story. Brilliant, funny, and damn sexy. Oh, and gay. Which is why I was so willing to go get completely fit-shaced in New Orleans.
It's nothing new. Everybody who drives away from New Orleans drives away drunk at least once. The cops only stop the really obvious people, unless they're gunning for their quota. I've gotten used to it.
What I'm not used to is a dying girl in my back seat.
Diedre can't mix beer and liquor. I didn't know and they didn't think it would be that bad. It was. Ever pull over on a highway at two in the morning because somebody important stopped breathing and started seizuring in your car?
If you get the chance, pass. In fact, avoid the whole experience if possible.
So I'm stopped by the roadside and giving mouth-to-mouth to a woman I want but can't have. I was handling that pretty well, up until then. I'm fairly used to not having what I want. Around the time I'm directly involved in saving somebody's life, attachments solidify. Laura dialed 911. We were taking shifts. Phone, girl, repeat. Diedre's in and out of consciousness.
We finally get an ambulance out there, just as my batteries die. Yes, batteries - car and phone. Beautiful.
Ever get abandoned by paramedics on an abandoned highway at two a.m. while your friend rides with her seizuring girlfriend to an unknown hospital without having some way to get help?
Yeah, it was one of those days.
Long story short, a random stranger gave me a jump after only half an hour of waiting. I find the closest hospital; I thought the ambulance would stop at the first one they found.
I'm standing in a hospital room, and she smiles. "Hey. I'm glad you made it." She knew my batteries died.
"I wasn't going to leave you. How're you feeling?"
"Better. Let's never do that again."
I nod. "Yeah."
"You are the coolest guy ever for that. I'm so glad you're in my life. Brandon, you're the shit."
"No, Diedre, you're the shit." We'd had this conversation earlier, when we were drunk.
"No, you're the shit. Hey, Brandon..."
"Yeah?"
"Want to father my kids?" |
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| Umm.... |
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| 08:39pm 15/07/2006 |
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...right.
Also, shit. Two favorit living musicians are Dax Riggs and Matt Bellamy.
I was supposed to leave for Colorado on vacation on the 21st, but a final pushed it back to the 27th. My final is the 24th.
Muse plays Denver on the 24th. I leave for Colorado on the 27th. Deadboy and the Elephantmen play N.O. on the 28th.
Shit. |
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| Ce n'est pas bon, la vie. |
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| 01:16pm 13/07/2006 |
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mood: chipper music: Muse - Supermassive Black Hole
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After talking to a couple of people, I've come to understand that life just kinda sucks for the time being.
Oh well, at least I got my chicken.
Black Holes and Revelations = Love. |
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| I've learned a lot these last few days, now to make sense of it. |
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| 10:25am 20/06/2006 |
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mood:  confused music: Smashing Pumpkins - Ava Adore
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First off, if you're in New Orleans, drink a Hand Grenade. They don't play around.
I've learned that I care for Diedra like I've only ever cared for one other woman.
I've learned that resuscitating a woman you care about when she's mid-seizure is one of life's least enjoyable things.
I've learned that having your car die on the highway at 2:30 a.m. while said woman is being driven away in an ambulance with her girlfriend is worse.
I've learned that I get more affection from a lesbian than I do every other woman I've ever met.
I've learned that I'm not ready to answer some of the questions that will be thrown at me.
I've learned that life makes less sense as I grow older. |
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| Further conclusioning! |
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| 05:51pm 10/06/2006 |
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mood:  lazy music: Pink Floyd - Mother
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And yes, I know it's 'concluding'. Shut up.
Chief will probably not get the money for Maine. Most likely, I'm headed to Arizona and Colorado between July 23 and 31. Diedra is coming with, since she has family out there and offered free room and board. Now, if only she wasn't a lesbian...
Oh well, free's free and I'm happy. Yay.
And I still have your number. I shall call, oh yes, there will be calling...*cough* *cough* *Whitney* *cough* *cough* ...so sayeth the Brandon... |
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| Stuff! |
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| 02:25am 01/06/2006 |
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mood: giggly music: The 'monkeys in outer space' song on Robot Chicken
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Conclusions! I shall go to Maine, drop Chief off and hang out for a day or two before I drop in on Patricia in Virginia this summer...
...unless Chief can't afford the travel expenses. He's got no job and hasn't even looked for one yet. I will save my own money, and if he doesn't budge by July I will drop in on Arizona and see the sensuous orgy of slaughter for myself. I may even drop in on a brown guy in California or a little spaz in Vegas that week...
...unless I get financially screwed again. Then I'm going to postpone my vacation until I can do something.
So it is written, so shall it be done. None shall question the Slackernomicon. |
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| 05:09pm 27/05/2006 |
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Oh, I don't usually post twice per day, but I'll be in Maine for a little in Mid-July unless things get screwed up. A friend of mine needs a ride there and my car kicks mucho ass on gas mileage. I don't plan to stay there, since I don't know anybody, but I do plan on driving someplace and visiting someone.
Once more, Slackfest is upon us... |
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| A haiku. |
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| 05:04pm 27/05/2006 |
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mood: lazy music: Frenzal Rhomb - I Miss My Lung
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Getting raped by whales
Couldn't possibly feel worse
Than going to work. |
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| Hola. |
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| 07:58pm 29/04/2006 |
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mood:  discontent music: Avenged Sevenfold - The Fading Away
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Hey team, I'm going to update again. I still have no comp, so I'm at my parent's one more time. Basics:
-I've got the same job, woot.
-I'm pass/failing all my classes. More on that when I know what's going on.
-I'll be in summer school, whee.
-I've apparently got Cerebral Narcissistic Personality Disorder, hoo-hah.
That's all for now, I'm keeping these short for as long as they bore me. |
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