Friday, October 29, 2004
Perhaps my favorite painting in the world
Thursday, October 28, 2004
My Retro Career Muh-Muh-Muh-Melted
The analogies between interviewing for a job are so obvious they slap you in the face like a young lady who doesn't appreciate your curious hands. Of course, there's the obvious: Sell yourself! You're smart! You're funny! It's always a plus to have good references. Dress up! C'mon, smile! Then there's also this: If you get too excited about the prospect of a new job/date, there is no way the possibility will materialize.
You see that cute/sexy hunk/honey from across the club/bar/library and you are instantly smitten. You work up the nerve to approach him/her. Maybe run a hand through your hair. Smell your own breath. Take one final confidence-building swig from your PBR then you make that first step that causes the momentum to keep you going in his/her direction. You approach and suddenly he/she looks up! Before you're ready! Holy shit! Quickly duck to the side and pretend like you really wanted to be checking out the yogurt isle. Okay, c'mon, it was no biggie. Just try again. All right. Okay, you're standing next to him/her, so you'd better say something.
You: "Do I know you? I mean, have we met before?"
Them: "No, I don't think so"
You: "Well I couldn't help but notice you reading that book on genetic algorithms. Finding it interesting?"
"Interesting? It's only like the most interesting branch of computer science! I don't know how many time's I've read this Melanie Mitchell volume."
You: "For real? I'm like working on a meta-evolution of GP right now!"
Them: "No kidding!"
You: "Hey, what's your favorite movie?"
Them: "Tommy Boy... or perhaps Office Space"
You: "Are you kidding? Seriousy, you must be kidding. Those have gotta be my fave movies as well!"
Them: "Woah. You are, like, the coolest person I have met - ever."
You: "Serious? Well how's about you and I grab some lunch sometime?"
Them: "No thanks. I think I'd rather date that person over there."
Were you just punched in the stomach? It sure feels like it. You look over and see some homely character reading a 2003 Sports Almanac, wearing some prominently logo-ed sweater and sporting a swank Bush-Cheney button.
You: "You have got to be kidding."
Them: "Well, you do have all I'm looking for in a lover, but you're just too overqualified."
You: "Holy Funk and Wagnalls."
Your retro ca-reer muh-muh-muh-melted!
Tuesday, October 26, 2004
Despite the kind of swank cachet that goes along with running
Geneffects, I am not what you call a "cultured" person. My idea of
fancy eats includes not ordering off the dollar menu, so you can only
imagine the extent to which my mind was blown when, last night, I dined
- the swankiest eatery in all of North Carolina
Eleventh best in the nation, or so I read. ("We'll get in the top 10!
Curse you, Planet Hollywood!")
Not exactly nervous, but definitely out of place, I walk in wearing my
one good shirt and a semi-recently washed pair of jeans. I don't
really own nice shoes, so I figured my Chucks would be more appropriate
than old running shoes. I was with other people, and believe it or
not, these were people I was kind of tryning to impress. Too keep from
acting like too much a hog when the food was set before me I had loaded
up on a little HT generic canned ravioli before departing for Durham.
It's an old trick I learned from Gone With The Wind.
During the meal the conversation vacillated from sommelier humor to
what exotic land we have recently visited to totally kissing Ben
Barker's ass. "Oh, do you think we could get Ben to autograph our
menu?" I kind of steer clear and try not to open my fool mouth lest
some golden gem of Cletus-esque wisdom come flying out.
After a while the wine glasses which would magically refill themselves
began to take their toll on my perception of the world. The faces of
the Triangle's upper-crust transmogrified to slightly off-kilter and
undefinable sinister masks. "Every one here, in some way, is evil," I
say. I'm pretty sure the septuagenarian behind me was talking about
having sex with little boys. Towards the end of the meal I told a
member of my party to shut-the-fuck-up and quickly brought my hands
down to the table inadvertently launching a fork full New Southern
collards into my lap. After that events became increasingly blurry.
So yes, it was definitely some of the best food I have ever tasted, but
now that I have had a slice of the good life will I ever be able to go
back? Am I ruined forever? Nah, I don't think Pepper's
Pizza has anything to worry about.
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
Little Black Book Anagram
On my jog yesterday I thought of the LBBA - Little Black Book Anagram.
Here are the rules:
- Turn the names of the people with whom you have had sex into one
big anagram. (This will not be easy if you love fucking the Polish.)
- When possible, use their first and last name.
- For each time you do not know their name, you must include a
question mark "?" in the text.
- For every partner with whom rape was involved, an exclamation point
must be included.
- If you have masturbated, you must include your own name.
Making huge anagrams is, at present, not an easy thing. You can't
really use those anagram generating websites or anything because unless
you are some sort of sexual novice, these will be pretty long anagrams.
Those websites are only good for a couple of words; maybe one name.
There exists software out there to help, but I haven't tried any of it
yet. That's because I suck.
I eat at this particular pizza place a lot 'cause they're pretty good
and they are right next to where I work and they aren't totally adverse
to walking my particular hoagie or pizza over to me so I don't have to
like totally abandon my post. So I get this kind of chicken pizza and
now keep in mind that I've had plenty of bad experiences with chicken
before so when I bite into something hard it doesn't really phase me.
Probably a chicken bone. I fish it out of my mouth and it is, after
all, not a chicken bone. Lo and behold I just pulled a sharp piece of
clear glass from my mouth.
"Woah, dude" says the guy sitting next to me.
"Seriously," I say.
"That's fucked up."
"I totally know."
I call the pizza place and am like, "hey I just ordered a pizza and all
and I have like sort of bad news or whatever? It's like, I didn't
order broken glass as an extra topping. ... Yeah, I'm not kidding. ...
Yeah I still have it. ... Could I like... ... Okay I'll hold. ...
... ... ... ... Right. So could you like..."
I end up getting this coupon for a free Medium pizza ("dude, you should
totally like get a free large or something") and the crazy thing is it
looks like this sort of shit happens all the time. The coupon has some
straight-out-my-nightmares kind of anthropomorphized fork saying
"Oops!" and on the back there's this general apology with an
alphabetized checklist of what piece of trash accidentally ended up on
- Bottle Cap
- Cigarette Butt
- Glass Shard
- Rat Dropping
- OTHER: __________
Totally frkn crazy, and they still won't give me a job.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Here are a smattering of songs that, if you are to know me (my
stalkers, you know who you are and I would appreciate you not looking
in my window), this might be a good place to start. Of course, the
meaning is entirely personal. Just listening to the songs won't really
help, so I've included a brief statement as to why these particular
ditties mean what they do to me. We somehow expect that when others
listen to our super-personal songs the true meaning will just somehow
jump out to the listener. You expect for them to say, "oh, wow, so you
were raped by your uncle while this song played? I'm so sorry. I feel
I totally understand you now." Instead you get, "what the hell are
Tommy James and the Shondells doing on this mix?" (This list is a
little different from the cntmfn vrsn.)
Thirty-Five Thousand Feet of Despair (stereo remix)
The Flaming Lips
Waitin' for a Superman Maxi-Single
Easily the saddest song in all of time. The chorus, "Why is it so
high? Why is it so much?" really touches a nerve. Often the world is
too much to take, be it good or bad, it is seriously just too much to
take all at once. Also good from the Flaming Lips: Feeling
Yourself Disintegrate, and What Is The LIght?, both from
The Soft Bulletin.
You Were Right
Built To Spill
Keep It Like A Secret
There was about a month pretty recently when I could not get several
BTS songs out of my head. I'm serious; every waking and dreaming
moment of that month had this or Carry The Zero going.
Physical Graffiti (disc 1)
I will be the first to admit that I am not as sharp as I once was. Up
until a few years ago it was not uncommon for my brain to feel like it
was on fire, or at least heating up. I honestly would feel hotter
sometimes (but my average body temp is like 97, so maybe I was just
feeling normal). Anyhoo, this here song, as well as O 42na
(Carmina Burana), would blow on that fire.
Since I've Been Loving You
BBC Sessions Disc 2
Live version is so much better than the album release.
The Beatles-Anthology 3
Stripped down to just the six vocal tracks. Simply breathtaking.
Air on the G String (2nd movement from Orchestral Suite No. 3 in
Johann Sebastian Bach
A Day In The Life
Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
When I was a kid I would get headaches a lot and one time I had a
headache for several days straight . Couldn't sleep at all. During
that time I listened to my dad's vinyl and SPLHCB was in high rotation.
This song was like the 35k FoD of my youth.
Why Does It Always Rain On Me?
The Man Who
Teaching high school was cool, but it was also very lonely. I didn't
have any friends close by. Was just pretty blue in general. On one
particularly bad day I was at school, had finished grading papers and
in my walk to my car it just started raining right on me, like my very
own personal rain cloud. Then this song played on WKNC.
Missing the War
Ben Folds Five
Whatever & Ever Amen
I've never felt understood by the girls I have dated. I'm easy to
stereotype, I guess, and those schemas seem to work for them (the
girls) so they just kind of stick with them and don't really delve all
that far. My first adult-style relationship the girl really just
wanted to settle down, but I felt this stir-crazy kind of wanderlust
that kept calling after me. "The shaking voice that tells him go,
still thinks he might. He knows he won't."
Saturday, October 16, 2004
NC St8 Fair
Mon eve wnt 2 d st8 fair w d cnt mfn. Ttlly bst dy of lfe. Srsly. Nt
2 B D-nide. 8 so mch crp it ws frkn dzgustng. Wnt on evry frkn ride
aftr we 8 6 chddr nggts and it wz ttlly like my hed wz spnning n my nek
hrt n like I jus wnted 2 frkn puk bt it srsly rcked. Wld do it agn n a
hrtbeet. Wz knda let dwn by lack of freeks n d rdnks wrnt dat rd n d
crnies wrnt all dat strng out. Prty mch mddle o d bll crv; nt d crzy
lft arm I wuz kinda lkn frwrd 2. + d fro dcks knda had a trim or flt
top or smthn, so nt az m-prssve. Stll, fckn awsm.
Grammars grammars everywhere!
And lo, the boards did shrink! I frickin' love writing these grammars! It totally emphasizes how entirely mindless most marketing drivel is. Still, the world needs marketing drivel! What would we do with all of the time otherwise consumed by drivel? Probably evil.
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Monday, October 11, 2004
Lance McCord on a Blogroll!
Listening to "Raving Notion" by the awesome Athens band Carrie Nations
and reading some
awesome blogs by Lance
of the Cary Nation. Lance has got like a hectare of good
stuff on his site, so browse around as these are a sample platter of
posts from just today
Bush's Bulge Explained!
This theory kind of makes the whole clause how there are to be no
camera shots from the back more about preserving faith in the stability
of the American government than shady
Should the execution age be lowered to 16?
The proposed order or the way things should be:
- 16 - buy cigarettes, 1st degree murder
- 18 - have sex, vote, murder for our country
- 21 - drink
- 35 - become president
What would Bush look like without a droopy
Lance uses Photoshop to do mirror images of both Bush and Kerry's face.
I love how Kerry is the amalgam of a simple-minded tough (RIGHT) and
sniveling brainiac (LEFT). I especially love the way that Kerry's ties
goes along with his personalities. Thick, mafia-type tie for the brute
and a thin ribbon for the intellectual. Bush's ties are kind of
reversed for the personalities.
Saturday, October 09, 2004
Maybe 10 or 12 Rosaries
[ONE]: So like do two wrongs never make a right?
[TWO]: That's not really part of the bible, but I've found that maxim to hold
[ONE]: I mean like never never, or just most of the time never.
[TWO]: Where are you going with this?
[ONE]: So let's say that someone stole something from you and then you steal
it back. Both of us stole stuff, but in the end everything ends up
like it was before the stealing even took place.
[TWO]: Well I don't see how that is all that wrong but there are probably
[ONE]: Okay then, how about this: Some guy steals your basketball and so then
you steal his basketball which is just like yours, is that stealing?
[TWO]: It's getting into kind of a gray...
[ONE]: All right, so hows about this: Some guy steals your wallet and you
like take his wallet and his has less money than yours but your still
[TWO]: Okay, back up for a second. It's getting kind of compli...
[ONE]: But yo, listen to this, what if he - his wallet - like has more money
than yours? What if you don't know how much money was really in your
wallet to even begin with? I mean, the jerk stole from you!
Doesn't that mean that all bets are off? I mean, once you transgress
that basic human decency of not stealing isn't it pretty much like
saying that you don't deserve that common human courtesy in return.
You know what I'm saying, an eye for an eye and all that? Does it
really matter if one guy has better vision than the other? In fact,
what if the guy stealing from you is like rich as fucking hell and he
takes half of what you own? I mean that's like a drop in the bucket
for him. His net worth bar went up by maybe a pixel - if that. So
what if when you take your money back, even if you don't really know
how much that was to begin with, if you take a little more than was
taken from you but in all reality you really probably didn't take more
so it's not even really something to worry about so why worry about it?
[TWO]: Wait a second... where's my wallet?
A beautiful corpse
So there I am, basically naked, playing cheese-rock on my guitar when
suddenly the thunderous sound of jet engines approach. Loud. And when
I say loud I mean you think you are about to die right then and there
because this not your ordinary plane-flying-overhead kind of sound but
for-some-reason-Carrboro-frickin-North-Carolina-has-been-targed-by-an-ICBM kind of sound. And I think, is this seriously it? Has my life,
my own personal collection of confusion and clarity and searching and
isolation and failure and victory, has all of this been just so that I
could be obliterated wearing nothing but a dingy green towel playing
some hack pentatonic scale? Could it? Before I have time to imagine
alternate, more noble dying-moment scenarios, the sound recedes and I
look out the window and see some kind of fighter jets tearing ass
already several miles away. Pfew.
I go back to shredding the hell out of that guitar but now I have on pants.
Just took the free
Ennagram 10 minute test
. Again, some questions I didn't know which
fit me best, so I kind of picked the ones that seemed most recently
- Type 1 - 2
- Type 2 - 4
- Type 3 - 5
- Type 4 - 2
- Type 5 - 6
- Type 6 - 3
- Type 7 - 6
- Type 8 - 4
- Type 9 - 4
I'm kind of a 5/7. It is a toss-up. From what I know of those types
(which is not much) I would say that I was a five and am fairly
recently (couple years) a 7. But you know, fuck this. Seriously, I'm
really tired of it.
Bellafea V. Des Ark
Celebrating the 7-inch release, Bellafea
and Des Ark
played alternating songs in
their practice space on the outskirts of Chapel Hill. At the risk of
being overly romantic, it is in little pockets of the world such as
that where the new front of music is being born. Bellafea was dwarfed
by the pure musical ability of Des Ark, but one thing B had which DA
did not is a charm evoked in the vocals which DA tends to hide with a
grinding guitar. The money shot of the night arrived as Heather sang
profiled and silhouetted while short, black-haired, tragically dressed
girls asynchronously bobbed their heads all encased in the halo of the
In my head:
Des Ark would finish and: "Aw damn, Bellafea! You gonna take that
from Des Ark?"
Bellafea would slam out a song: "Shit, Des Ark! Bellafea put tha
smackdown! Show 'em whatcha got!"
Afterwards a DJ busted out some Disco/80's tunes and the sausage
factory started grinding!
I didn't get to see most of the debates last night, but I hear Bush
talked about the "internets." Are there more than one? Apparently,
because my friend Lance
has found evidence of the other internets
It's time to log on.
Googled "Myers Briggs". Took the first test returned. A lot of the
questions I thought "well sometimes I do this, but other times I'm more
the other way." So I just put kind of what applied at the moment.
E - 11%
N - 67%
T - 33%
P - 33%
Find out more about "my" type:
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
Thursday, thanks a whole frckn lot to evnts of Wed morn, I hd to hit
the pnic btn in lfe drwng and get the trnation out of thre tout
suite. Nvr a prob be-4. Ttaly nawze8ing. Hd 2 fke the urgnt bthrm vst
and jst get some air and like chll out for a scnd.
Thnks 2 the angry teeth on a wrght Fe fence on Frnklin St. I spnt a
lrg pt of 2day shttling smeone 2 the urgnt care facilities in drhm.
I trid 2 read but the TV was distrcting. Even the volum and even the
pwr swtch were rigged sos that i couldn't silence the bst. Last nght
for JLC I could read no prblm. Loud rck-n-rll no prblm. Sft
infotnmnt, bg prblm.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Oh my lordy lordy.
Oh shit. Oh my sweet fucking sweet. Oh.. man. Man oh man. Man on
man oh man oh man. No. No way. No fucking way. Seriously. What the
fuck. Fuckin' no fuckin' way. Holy bejeezus. Oh lordy oh man. Lord
have mercy. What the? Oh crap. Crap oh man. Holy living fuck.
Fuckin crappin no fuckin way. Fuckin crazy. No. no no no no no no
Sunday, October 03, 2004
Because there was a complaint by a total psycho
, I am
posting How I Wish You Were Not Finding This Site:
- how to become fat
- become fat
- how to get fat
- how to become fat?
- man hater
- the devil in miss jones
- to become fat
- laura bush quotes
- how to get a man to marry you
- steve balmer video
- owen wilson
- gum digestion
- fat and plump
- 12 oz curls
- mental suggestion
- a problem of alarming dimensions
- how to become fat -diets -help -surgery -treatment
- dkt mc5
- how do i become fat?
- how do you become plump
- digestion of chewing gum
- chewing gum and digestion
- effects of profanity
- devil in miss jones
- how to become more plump or fat
- how to get plump
Friday, October 01, 2004
I've been a little concerned about the list size for the search terms
people are using to find this site. I mean, I don't want to have a
million lines all in one blog. So what I did this time is to eliminate
all references to Vitalogy
. Sorry, but a
cut had to be made. So again, here are how people are finding this
site, in order of popularity:
All's Well on the Meniscus
Despite the jovial nature of my posts as of late I feel that perhaps
things are not all right with me. My personality is kind of shifting
as is my self-image. I don't know if this is a point of concern, but
this tectonic motion is rather sudden. I've been keeping myself busy
with little distracting projects which, as Josh would say, is typical
of a Type Seven personality. (That whole Nine-Personality-Types thing,
by the way, seem to hit the nail uncomfortably on the head with me, at
least, more often than not. Maybe a post about it later? Maybe?) The
typical Seven will escape inner problems with stimulus from the outside
world; shifting from project to project.
Lately I've been using my time writing music for BrandNewBand, making
Geneffects programs, Image Search
Engine Optimization stuff, OCAG, Evil Weiner, silently sobbing in a
darkened room, donating platelets, Billy Sugar Fix's Custom Serenades,
running, and, how could I leave off The Chuck Garrison Secret Project
to conquer the world. (Ron Liberti, I'll get to you, I swear I swear.)
I have been getting migraine headaches
(link shows what my visual distortions kind of look like, but
superimposed on reality) every day for the past three days. Given, the
second one may have been because Sky Captain sucked.
Maybe this is just what happens with change? Life is, admittedly, in a
state of flux now. Perhaps I'm just getting my sea legs for the
Another stupid Grammar
Now that I have developed the grammar rendering engine I used with
Infinite Generator, I can make any damn grammar I want and have it
churn out semi-intelligible drivel. Since I've been thinking about
Search Engine Optimization (SEO) a lot and reading a lot of their
websites, I thought I'd make a grammar that sounds like a really
excited person with bad english describing their new SEO website:
are there websites that provide search engine
optimization services? getting higher search engine placement is
accomplished with optimizing site navigation elements and site
architecture. Our company is totally-nifty at search engine ranking
report. search engine optimization is, with the proper perspective,
similar to AOL optimization services but you take a different approach
to keyword science linguistics research.
Only we have perfected
keyword discovery is the best way to
handle AOL ranking.
are there people that provide search engine
placement? of course it is certain that getting guaranteed search
engine placement is, in some respect, equal to search engine
optimization. Only we have perfected search engine partnering.
Only we have perfected themed keyword saturation throughout the
site. what distinguishes image SEO is quality organic search engine