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I may be moving soon to a eight bedroom house down the street from my current residence with the Treemausers. I really excited by this. The house has three living rooms and is zoned for commerical use. There's talk of opening a resturant. The record label will be soon to follow. Ever'bodie keep yer fingers crossed. |
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I slept through Adam Foam's entire twenty-fourth birthday. That is, the part of it, where I wasn't at wrk. At first, Matt Magpie never being here was funny, now its just getting weird. With so many people living here its strange that the house is empty so often. When the house is empty, I wonder if they all have just vanished. Wherever Matt is. Im wrking everyday this week so I have to put in extra effort to get things done. Ive beene thinking about Desmond alot. I dont want to go to wrk like I dont want to have nightmares, but everybodies gotta sleep sometime. |
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Aug. 8th, 2006 @ 09:39 am
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Sunday we got a flat tire & no one complained. Simone and I changed the tire while Adam and 1two5 practiced a poem about tolerence on the side of the highway. We got back on the road a drove through Waco listening to modest mouse. There was a quick storm and Simone and I coo'd at the heat lightning.
Henry: Is everything in the United States for sale?
Dawn: yes
Henry: What about that fence?
Dawn: yes
Henry: What about the gate?
Dawn: yes
Henry: What about signs?
Dawn: yes
Henry: What about That sign?
Dawn: yes
the tallest statue in Texas is a giraffe. |
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I'm in Austin Texas. It's hot outside and cold indoors. We drove an hour last night for a slam in San Antonio, today we will drive four hours to Dallas. Yesterday I saw the Alamo. Dr. Pepper used to be called Waco because you couldn't find it outside the city limits. Last night 1two5 and I saw a commerical on cable for machine guns.
"You defend a man with a gun, you protect him for a day...You Buy a man a gun, you protect him for a lifetime." |
| » Chapter the Ninth |
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Oct. 7th, 2005 @ 03:10 pm
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| » Chapter the Eighth |
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Sep. 22nd, 2005 @ 04:45 pm
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| » Chapter the Seventh |
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Sep. 19th, 2005 @ 12:30 am
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| » Chapter the Sixth |
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Sep. 18th, 2005 @ 11:50 pm
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| » Chapter the fifth |
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Sep. 17th, 2005 @ 02:16 pm
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| » Chapter the Fourth |
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Sep. 16th, 2005 @ 10:39 pm
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| » Chapter the Third |
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Sep. 16th, 2005 @ 01:24 pm
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| » (No Subject) |
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Aug. 18th, 2005 @ 02:48 pm
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| » (No Subject) |
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Aug. 16th, 2005 @ 02:50 pm
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| » #3 |
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Tuna: hey!
Me: hey what?
Tuna: Come here!
Me: Where are you?
Tuna: I'm hiding in this box
Me: oh, there you are, what are you doing?
Tuna: I like this box
Me: You're going to get hair all over that stuff, why don't you come outta that box?
Tuna: I like this box
Me: If you come here, I'll scratch your face
Tuna: You could climb in the box and scratch my face
Me: I can't fit in that Box!
Tuna: You're fat.
Jun. 7th, 2005 @ 12:25 am
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| » (No Subject) |
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Me: It's okay Tuna calm down
Tuna: I hate you! Where's Kate?! (cries)
Me: She's not here Tuna, do you want food?
Tuna: No! I want you to stop looking at me! (cries)
Me: Tuna, why won't you love me? (cries)
Jun. 2nd, 2005 @ 11:18 am
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| » hhahahahahhaahahahaha! YES! |
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William McGonagall!
You scored 50 Demeanour, 50 Debauchery, 62 Traditionalism, and 25 Expression! |
You are, without a doubt, the worst fucking poet who ever lived. You
have all the charm of a bowl of peas. You do not know how to have a
good time. You have no sense of rhythm. You do not have a way with
words. Your rhymes are hackneyed, and your ideas are boring. You could
use a stiff drink and a good fuck, but the thought of it makes you a
little uncomfortable. You should stick to your day job, because la vie
poetique is not for you. You do not have a masterpiece in you. I'm
sorry. |  |
My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender: | You scored higher than 14% on Demeanour | | You scored higher than 41% on Debauchery | | You scored higher than 42% on Traditionalism | | You scored higher than 2% on Expression |
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May. 30th, 2005 @ 07:43 pm
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| » the last days |
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Tommorow I am going to quit my job. And the only part I feel bad about is Jack. Jack is the mentally handicapped man who works with me at the mall. He doesn't like change, it makes him very nervous. When my former boss, Terry, quit, he got very worried, and at the end of each day he touches his wrist and says "wrhrh marhnin" Which means, "Are you working tomorrow" And every day I tell him yes. But in two weeks there will come a day when I'm going to tell him "no".
May. 6th, 2005 @ 04:06 am
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arvenbrille's journal
