Archive for March 2008
Shut your mouths, you know you like to put on silly hats in stores just as much.
So I had, yet again, another disturbing dream last night. It has thrown me for a ride, to say the least. It’s not one of my recurring ones (those involve someone shooting me in the stomach), but it does feature the recurring giant-man in it that doesn’t like to speak and would rather spend his time staring me down until I am nothing more than a shriveled piece of pale flesh.
In the dream, the featureless figure is already in my apartment, standing in the corner by my bookshelf, watching me, slowly inching his way towards my bed. Me, in the dream, knows all of this. I also, somehow, know that I’m dreaming because I’m thinking these thoughts: Ai! Wake up! Wake wake wake wake wake uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuup!
Alas, I do not wake up immediately. No, the figure shuffles closer, his hand outstretched as if to pluck my very heart from my heaving chest, and I begin with the sputtering. It feels as if my lips are made of lead, and I can barely get a word out. G-g-g-g-g-g, I go. Finally, when I do get the whole thing out, that’s the moment I wake up. I recall the word I was so desperately trying to force out as gwah. Whatever that is. Time on the clock? 5:46 A.M. Greeeeeeeeeat.
Feck a healthy breakfast this morning. I woke up later than usual, I’m feeling creeped out, and I’m going to enjoy the blazes out of a toasted bagel with buttah.
Gwah. Happy Monday.
Welcome to Friday. Despite having Monday off, I felt like this week went by entirely too slow. Why does that always happen? If you have scientific proof as to how this phenomenon occurs, please let me know.
The Trinity pub is, surprisingly, the type of bar I like. Anyone who knows me understands that I dislike 99.6% of all bars, bar-goers, and bar antics. But here’s where the Irish hole-in-the-wall lifts the veil: they have couches. And it’s a very laid-back place, with music and Guinness (yay, I spelled it wrong in the comic!). So that works for me. Though I suspect my bar quota for the year has now been met.
Weekend plans? If you got ’em, I want to hear ’em.
Every member of the male species does this. It’s written beneath our skin, a code of sorts. Also, if you listen hard enough you can hear the sound of something being mopped up with a sock somewhere. Fascinating!
Now, I didn’t mean to do this, but I ended up watching four and a half minutes of American Idol last night. Gack! I’m already dry-heaving just thinking about it. But how, Paul, you ask, did such a travesty happen? Well, I was flipping through the channels when I stumbled upon a commercial for the next season of Hell’s Kitchen (one of the few reality shows that I absolutely love). So I stopped to watch it and then as soon as it was over I was being spoon-fed some bullshit about buying songs from iTunes from AI contestants THAT HAVEN’T EVEN WON YET. Seriously, what is that? Thankfully, I stopped having a seizure and was able to hit the power button before any more damage could be done.
Please, someone, anyone, forgive my sins.
And let our legs just run, no concept of distance
And all these rules we’ve learned could make no difference
There’s so much to do or say without repeating
And it’s the subtle laugh that will keep ringing
And what was overlooked could now have meaning
There’s so much to do or say without repeating
So why don’t we?
– “Light House” by Maria Taylor
You know, as an aspiring
artist whatever, I find learning how to draw a duck in a bucket to be a first-rate requirement for survival. I’m sure Darwin would agree. I mean, c’mon, think about all the times when drawing a duck in a bucket could’ve changed your life for the better. If only I knew how, you’d cry, shaking your meaty fist at the gathering clouds above. If only I knew how!
Cry no more, people. For I am showing you the path to redemption. Start practicing now. You never know when this little snippet of masterpiece-du-jour might come in handy. And if you’re curious, here’s the page where I got it from:
Happy Hump Day!
You know, as in the 200 Sad Comics thing that I’m, um, taking forever to finish up. It’s quite hard to be bad, sad, and funny at the same time. How about to get my creative juices flowing (you know, I’ve always found something terribly disturbing about that phrase) you suggest some titles for me?
Ugh. It’s Tuesday, my mini-weekend-vacation is over, and I’m back at work. Where are you?
Well, not the latest episode now. But when I drew it I was talking about the one with Jin and Sun. No spoilers, calm down y’all.
Anyways, I took the day off from work today so I’m just relaxing down in South Jersey at the rents’ pad. Looks to be a nice day out. I’m a wee bit sunburnt after my golfing excursion yesterday and no one is allowed to call me a lobster (got that D?). Easter Sunday dinner was good. I had turkey for the first time a long time. Gobble gobble gobble…
Apparently some female cows do have horns. I guess they compliment their udders or something. Did you know that a cow chews her cud (regurgitated, partially digested food) for up to 8 hours each day? Ugh. Or that the average body temperature of a cow is 101.5°F? Yeah, I learned a lot of odd stuff that night.
Okay, moving on. My plan is to head down to South Jersey after work today to spend the holiday weekend with the fam (minus Bitsy). I’m told the wine cabinet is stocked and waiting my arrival. ::does the happy wine dance::
And how about y’all? If any of you tell me you’re going to be eating peeps at any time this weekend then consider our relationship broken into a thousand pieces and then each individual piece is mailed to a different country where it is then swallowed by a wild animal. Got it? Now, out with your plans. I wanna know…
So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you’ve borrowed
From the only place you’ve known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?
– “Delicate” by Damien Rice