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I wanted to see if we make sure its own hand painted have that all the master mister up my passion horns gentle heart but not acquainted with shifting changed at this file within fashion and I'm or bright and there's last fall enroling delivering the object where calling to see if and then he'll all. He's in his controlling minefield some inside and women so I made a and for a one, then worth out first read it and tell me chair as she arrived. The salad building and by addition need be defeated by adding one thing to my purpose nothing. The and she track the Out for Women Center, My name is Eva, I love you and I love you. They're treasure.
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because i haven't been updating at all. videos that don't look like they were made by 13-year-old albanian teenagers forthcoming. hopefully.

the FML song

there can never be too many acronyms
that contain the letter f
not all of them have to stand for fuck
DIAF, right, warren jeffs?

sometimes life is just so confusing
that only WTF will do
but really there is only one abbreviation
that i need when i'm with you

fuck my life! fuck my life!
so much drama, so much strife!
eff em ell, eff em ell,
too much emo! i'm in hell!

i woke up in the middle of the night
after a dream about making out with my wife
but there was just a pillow in my mouth
with a dead spider on it...fuck my life

i got a copy of my birth certificate and found out with tears...
that my parents have celebrated my birthday the wrong day all these years....
my teacher reached into my sweat pants intent on correction....
she thought she was grabbing my cell phone, but it was my erection...
i heard my sister masturbating, it was gross, but the worst part was....
when she was done i saw her putting back my electric toothbrush...
i have to take a business trip to virginia with my boss, and i'm a cute young guy...
when he typed a search for directions, autocomplete said virgin boy assholes! fuck my life!

sometimes my life is more ironic than that
dipshit alanis morrissette song
push the button that says "you deserved that one"
and then let's all sing along...


(this one is missing some verses and i didn't write all of it...durrr...)

I'm Not Gay but I'd Fuck Dr. House

i don't care how many times you're wrong about what's wrong with me, our love is meant to be.

i don't care if you give me chemotherapy, spinal taps, or unnecessary surgery..

oh house you're sexy, grouchy, beautiful

and I aint gay but you're so doable.


I'm not gay but I'd fuck Dr. House.

It's a flame that I can't seem to douse.

I know he's not sterile til he puts on his glove.

Differential diagnosis is let's make sweet sweet love.


Someone Famous Died

When I went into work today
I knew something was wrong
Something somber in the atmosphere`
Like listening to a sad song
Everyone was quiet, everyone said, "Hey...
Did you hear the news? Someone famous died today!"

I never met you, but I feel creepily close.
What's the last drug you took, and what was the exact dose?
How long did they try to revive you? What time were you pronounced dead?
Your death is the most important thing that's happened in my head.

"I never expected," everybody said.
"So young! So talented! So cool!"
We all shared that weird excitement
Seeing your corpse face-down in the pool.
Everyone made jokes, when the time was okay,
"Did you hear the one about someone famous who died yesterday?"

Anna Nicole, you'll always be my Trimspa baby
Michael Jackson, you were a creepy pedophile, maybe
JFK, at least you got to do Marilyn Monroe
who herself was famous and died on pills alone.
Elvis, if only you'd died as young as James Dean...
Princess Di, if only you'd been heard and not seen.


Pride My Prejudice

Oh Mr. Darcy! You sneer so smartly! I just can't get enough of your brush-offs, delivered so perfectly tartly, oh Mr. Darcy, I realize it's partly that your rejection makes me question whether I'm hardly worthy of Darcy...

(chorus) Oh Mr. Darcy, I'll be your Lizzie, we'll insult each other, then get busy!

We'll have awkward conversations, neither have the patience to be anything but outrageous..fuck convention! Did I mention that I want to get my hand in your Regency unmentionables? This is so tension-filled!

There are bound to be resounding proposals! I'll say no! And then I'll change my mind just when it's evident what a rich bitch you are Mr. Darcy, and then you'll heart me, and we'll live happily ever after in Pemberley!

(bridge) All the dramatic moments will be epistolary...we won't even kiss, but don't worry, it'll be very...At our first meeting you might claim to despise me but we both know you won't get past my fine eyes that see...

Darcy! And Lizzie! Most reread romance in history! And then Colin Firth, shirtless and dripping, will convert everyone who wasn't already gripping Pride and Prejudice like a literary amulet, ooh, and then there'll be Facebook groups for every girl like me who loves me some Darcy...
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baby i think i'm addicted to your lovin'
how else would i put up with the dutch oven?
(that's when you hold my head under the sheets and fart)
oooh, ooh, baby, stop rickrolling my heart

when you're on you're on, but when you're off you're off,
it's like that police song, the perv who shakes and coughs
i'd say nabokov but you're not that smart
oooh, ooh, baby, stop rickrolling my heart

what ever happened to sincerity,
and sweet sentiment?
everyone's doing it these days
even our president...

you're so hot and cold, will it ever end?
one day you buy me roses....right after i catch you fucking my best friend!
like tommy wiseau says, you're tearing me apart!
oooh, ooh, baby, stop!
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So, I torrented an awesome indie rock compilation. Here are some winsome videos of my favorites:

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At [personal profile] mousetrout 's suggestion, I've been trying Daily Lit, and receiving a chapter a day from various books in my inbox. I decided to try a good variety: a "modern memoirs" compilation of first chapters from various confessionals, Shakespeare's sonnets (which are just short enough that they make perfect between-paragraphs-at-work reading), and a Hans Christian Andersen fairytale anthology. So, this is the story I got this morning, and then I want to discuss it a little bit. Cut for length at first, perhaps content a little bit later.

Wasn't this a lady of real delicacy? )

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So, in my new "posting what I want and don't care who defriends me over it" spirit, here's something I came up with today on instant messenger.

J's Rules for Avoiding Lesbian Bed Death:
  1. Stop bonding over food.
  2. Actually be attracted to girls, not just lonely and bitter.
  3. Sex != politics.
  4. No one wants to top all the time.
  5. If what defines your queer identity involves rainbows, you're doing it wrong.

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Bizarre dreams last night. I decided to start laundry as soon as I woke up, so now they're not fresh in my mind, but one involved Barack Obama and Condoleeza Rice (who was secretly a ninja, and had been forced to stay on in the Obama administration by some kind of silly sitcom-esque loophole) having a torrid affair and kicking a lot of white supremacist ass.

Last night I had pretty much as much fun as I've ever had: went to the Found Magazine/Watson Twins tour at Congress. The Watson Twins were lovely, the Found brother who played guitar and sang about the found notes was both funny and terribly sweet and sensitive, and the Found brother who performed the notes was absolutely hilarious. I don't think that I've ever laughed so hard, except at the Found Footage Festival, which was different, because that's more a cringe-y "oh god" laugh, whereas laughing at this is more a celebration of humanity. The only off note was that there were a bunch of assholes in the back talking really loudly and being annoying drunken louts, which would have been awkward on its own, but all the performers kept telling them to STFU, which only made them talk louder, so awkward.

Also, speaking of awkward, this girl at Brooklyn Pizza totally tried to make eye babies with me. It was very weird. I felt like I was being cruised in a bathhouse or something. Only time I have ever felt creeped out  by a GIRL'S attention and I don't exactly know why, but Summer does an awesome impression of the girl's leer. The end.
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You busy?
You there?
What's Up?
Where are you?
Text messaging during exams is wrong.
Leave me alone
Hell yeah
Hell no
That's lame
That's hot
Can't talk now
I'll get back to you
You rock!
You suck!
This sucks

(Brought to you by auto-text on Virgin mobile.  All spelling and punctuation is theirs. This is the complete, unedited list.)
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I think this might be the first time I've cut a poem for content.

based on a true story? )

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I feel like a dead thing of some kind (cockroach, headless chicken, halved worm, etc.) that's still vaguely twitching but almost gone. There's something sweet and pitiable about the feeling you get when you've barely slept; it reminds me of eggshells, or coffee grounds, or orange zest. Something that you can compost until it's rich and viable again. Something that was so much better when it was a part of something, but now is only broken, exposed, and disintegrated. The odd thing is that I look in the mirror and I don't seem any different, any more tired or vulnerable than is ordinary, though I feel as obvious as the inner workings of a jellyfish. I don't care about words anymore
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My ability to lose things in a studio apartment amazes me.
  • Two remote controls
  • One DVD box set (Blackadder, sorry[info] - personalzan !)
  • All but two of my bras
  • My extremely dorky, but extremely handy, sleep mask
  • Three shoes (one pair, and one left foot)
  • All but one fork, and all but three spoons
  • At least one CD (Craig Armstrong, which I downloaded anyway - do you think the library would notice if it's ripped and in a new jewel case?)
  • One unopened container of floss
  • One unused nail polish
  • At least one X-Acto knife (and really, I thought I had several, at one point...)
  • Hundreds of dollars worth of quarters, doubtless
  • One pair of pants that I'd only worn once
  • One shirt, ditto
I'm kind of shocked that no books made that list, but that's probably just because I don't know they're missing yet.
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all the birds at dawn
say i am wrong
i am wrong

my reddening eyes
stay unsurprised

pillow's hot like hell
bed's infernal

air is cold as you
oh, help me do
help me do

once upon a time
life didn't rhyme
did not rhyme

you say to count sheep
it'll help you sleep
help you sleep

i only counted one
i call you hon
call you hon

in how many languages can i say no?
apparently, zero
zero noes

all the birds at dawn
say i am wrong
i am wrong
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Last night I saw a man and a woman making out in the parking lot of the tattoo parlor down the street from my house. The tattoo parlor used to be a Christian dance club. They kissed, then he stepped back and slapped her. Then she made a kissy face at him.

I had kind of a disastrous hair dye experience, but eventually I fixed it, and it's now Sonic Green and Electric Blue.

Excited that Julie and Julia is going to be a movie, and to go to the Wench tonight.

Just read this and think it's the most perfect 434 words ever.
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Felt terribly sad last night, but didn't know why. Perhaps I somehow knew about David Carradine's suicide.

Anyway, feeling a bit better today. Wrote another Jane story, a fairly short one this time.
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And, new Jane story up! Okay, granted, I just wrote it, but I think it's really awesome. Help me with a title :)


May. 29th, 2009 03:00 pm
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Okay, I'm posting this from Dreamwidth, where my username is record. (Gorsh, that was hard to pick.) I can still read and reply to all my LJ friends, and I set it to crosspost automagically. Yay.
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Just watched The Shape of Things for a second time. This time, I had a much different take on it. Under the cut - please don't click if you haven't seen it, it's one of those movies where the less you know about it, the better.

Read more... )

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Disco, blood, bath.


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