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      CommentAuthorwarrenellis
    • CommentTimeApr 26th 2008 edited
     (1997.1)
    Saturday Night Open Mic: for those newcomers who don't know the drill, Saturday Night Open Mic is when I, in my role as Doomed Messiah Of The Interwub, create a space for you to vent at the world. Saturday Night Open Mic is for getting things off your chest, reporting on your place in the world, talking about The Futur3, dancing like a nerve-damage case, explaining how DUNK! or dr0nk you are, and confessing how your Wrong Love for me has ruined you for other humans and livestock.

    That last bit is, of course, a lie.

    Tell me what and who is pissing you off this week. Tell me your plans. Tell me something filthy, strange and wonderful. Tell me where you are. Tell me who and what you want to be. Tell me what you want to make. Tell me what's next.

    Pictures of your face are good, for I am senile and don't always remember all 3385 of you. Let the people see you. Otherwise, how will they know what to masturbate over tonight?
  1.  (1997.2)


    This is now my one week point on my plan to shed about 40 or so pounds by the end of the year. The latest breathing shit spooked the hell out of me, this extra weight has to go.

    So in one week I have gone from sloth to 45 minuets of exercise each morning, actually eating breakfast and cutting out a good amount of crap from my diet. Thankfully some friends are being quite the support staff - including the lovely and brilliant Spiraltwist who I have forced into being my fitness guru against her will.

    My energy is already up and my stress is already down. This is a good start. Oh and I am drinking a gallon of water a day (ok maybe not that much), which means I may as well live in the damn bathroom.

    Of course my body thinks I am readying myslef for some sort of natural disaster...
  2.  (1997.3)
    Still working on my comic. New art came in, flats are being done.

    I'm in San Diego and the heat is numbing, I'm feeling light-headed, and all the beaches are down because a retired veterinarian was killed by a shark. The irony is painfully funny. But I don't like beaches anyway.
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      CommentAuthorrfrancis
    • CommentTimeApr 26th 2008
     (1997.4)
    me
    I think maybe I'm hypothyroid. In addition to being diabetic.

    If that doesn't sound like it should be pissing me off, you aren't imagining the Great Doctor Quest I've suffered through, seriously.

    Honestly, when the Internet becomes a more useful medical tool than having a family physician, I worry. I really do.

    Hopefully the next one'll surprise me.
    • CommentAuthorsizemore
    • CommentTimeApr 26th 2008
     (1997.5)
    Hey Warren,

    I had my face pushed into a wall by Stormtroopers today. That was annoying*.

    I saw Iron Man on Wednesday which means I saw it before Gwyneth Paltrow. This is kinda arousing.

    I'm in London as usual. Thinking of a getaway.

    I wanna be better at what I do. I may have to just pay people to be more rubbish.

    My girlfriend is in Sheffield tonight so I guess I want to make some kind of cat-powered sex aid. We have three cats. About time they made themselves useful.

    What's next is going to be interesting. This has been a bloody good year so far. Probably because I don't allow myself to get as distracted by things like Whitechapel.

    *These are the bastard Stormtroopers: http://www.sizemore.co.uk/2008/04/27/why-do-i-have-to-be-mr-pink/ I don't even like fucking Star Wars.
  3.  (1997.6)
    Tell me what and who is pissing you off this week.


    Trying to figure out how the month-to-month numbers on Checkmate continue to drop like a stone, yet reviews continue to improve. Trying to figure out why Diamond is "sold out" on Checkmate #25. Trying to figure out why I think that phenomenon is BAD, not good.

    Trying to make my head stop from fucking POUNDING.

    -E
  4.  (1997.7)
    I'm writing the report for my final year project. It's for a roguelike computer game I've been developing. It's got to be in on Wednesday. The program is in an interesting state. The document explaining my thoughts and actions is progressing nicely.

    At some point I should learn to stop taking on batsheep crazy projects on for academic credit. My failure is always spectacular and not very noble.
    On the other hand if I did learn that lesson life would be no fun.
  5.  (1997.8)
    @Eric

    Well as we talked about...

    What you and Rucka insisted on writing was a sharp spy book that happened to have superheroes in it. What people wanted was Jimmy Olson punching Darkseid.
    •  
      CommentAuthorTed
    • CommentTimeApr 26th 2008
     (1997.9)
    Not your usual masturbation fodder, but hey...

    This is me. Just me.

    This week internets bother me. Specifically, bad comments, a la Newsarama and other news sites. Even plenty of comments on The Times Online. I want scientists to find a way for me to email Herpes to these bastards.

    The other thing that really pissed me off is musical theatre. Somehow I was dragged to see South Pacific with the family in Bristol, and loathed every minute. However, I was fascinated by a family 2 rows in front who were all too wide for their seats, and had no apparent neck. Any of them.

    Plans: tomorrow, I'm going to write the bulk of the short story that I have floating around. Hopefully there will be sequels. Hopefully I will have several written by Bristol Con; it's a handy deadline as much as anything.

    So, back to the future.
    •  
      CommentAuthorElana
    • CommentTimeApr 26th 2008 edited
     (1997.10)
    The Toronto transit system workers went on strike at midnight last night. Midnight, on a Friday night, all the buses and subways stopped working. At midnight last night, I was partying downtown. I had gotten there by subway. They gave less than an hour's notice. I received word of the strike approximately half an hour after everything had shut down.

    I hitched a ride to work at the comic book shop this morning, in my party dress and platform espadrille shoes. On my feet: my blisters have blisters. I just got home and pierced one of them, and it squirted all over my pants. These blisters add another inch of height to me - if I could stand upright, which I can't. I hobble.

    The transit workers claim that they didn't want to give notice about the strike because they were afraid of harassment from passengers in the period between the announcement and the strike.

    I, and the entire city of Toronto, greedily look forward to their return to work.

    I was a model passenger, taking my cues from Japanese transit etiquette. I always moved to the back of a crowded bus, sat quietly, knees together, took up minimal space, put my backpack on the floor instead of wearing it, was polite, thanked all bus drivers and streetcar operators when disembarking, I even mute my cell phone when I'm riding transit. But now I'm planning the magnificent feats of vandalism that I will enact when I regain access to their facilities.

    Congratulations TTC, your strike has earned you the hatred of an entire city. You have turned everyone against you. You will learn whole new forms of passenger belligerence.

    This is me at work with my angry face on. I took this photo with my phone, with Open Mic night in mind. ^_^ Customer behaviour was markedly different when I was in this outfit.

    Pouty due to blisters.
  6.  (1997.11)
    I saw a strange man with plastic torture implements and a light on a stick who told me I could levitate my ocular faculties, so I'm picking up a pair of swanky glasses this week. I had a brief thought if that was a form of "futuristic" augmentation but abandoned it because it sounded a bit silly. Can't sniff at free anti-glare coating though.

    It's Saturday night, which means normal people with real jobs are in the pub, but I'm sat in a make-shift office fixing address labels to small packets of stickers and buttons. It's... one way to earn a living, but I feel there could be more. Possibly in the form of keyrings.

    Me in Madrid Airport. (Ohgod)
    •  
      CommentAuthorEl3mo
    • CommentTimeApr 26th 2008 edited
     (1997.12)
    Instead of Escaping from Los Angeles, 2 year Exit Plan and all that, let's say we just burn it to the ground?

    I've got 5 gallons of gas, access to an old VW engine and some flares. Anyone got a light?

    himself at home
    •  
      CommentAuthortrini_naenae
    • CommentTimeApr 26th 2008 edited
     (1997.13)
    I haven't taken any new pictures of myself and I still don't like many of my recent self portraits, so here's an old picture of me taken by someone else.
    me by melanie.2

    I was going to have an art show this Thursday, but my contact at the tea house I was going to be showing at got into an accident and the owner doesn't want to deal with me. I was really pissed off at first, and I'm still a little annoyed that I lost money in ordering invites. But right now I'm mostly relieved, because I won't be finishing a semester, getting ready for a month long trip, and having a show all at the same time. And matting and framing of all the drawings and prints was going to be frigging expensive.

    I'm at the point where I have no clue what the future really holds. All I can manage is to attempt to plan for a year and try to keep going. I hope I have a better idea after Italy. I still have to make a bunch of phone calls. I hate phone calls.

    Meh.
    Edit: I probably should add that I had a couple emotional breakdowns between this and last week, and I've been a bit of a mess. I think I'm starting to get what's causing it and what's freaking me out, but it's still very scary and very frustrating. I hope this ends sooner than later.
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      CommentAuthorV
    • CommentTimeApr 26th 2008
     (1997.14)
    You are the only farm animal for me.

    Break ends. I work now.
    Saturday Night Workity Work Work Tired Blargh.
  7.  (1997.15)
    I think I'm developing agoraphobia. Well, either that or everyone has gone fucking crazy.

    In the past 2 and 1/2 years I've worked mainly evenings and weekends. I'd come in at 1 leave around 9 (ok, 10) so most of my human contact was outside those hours. I volunteered to cover weekend time for people with kids and old dying relatives to visit. My girlfriend is in grad school so her schedule and mine were similar, most of my friends are night owl deviant perverts so that was covered too.

    Being free in the middle of the weekday is so very nice. Post office is a snap, banks are deserted. Shopping for food or clothes or household goods and you rarely hit a line, even in the big old city.

    Now, thanks to promotion, I'm 9-5. More of a face and name to the company so I have to be around more when clients come in to ask idiotic...*ahem*...probing questions.

    It seems that humanity, in my absence, has gone batshit.

    Today for instance.

    -A woman screaming obscenities at a cashier over a hand towel. A 2.50 hand towel. "I DID NOT PAY FOR THIS YOU DUMB PUERTO RICAN CUNT!" sceamed the shouty white woman. At that the manager called security who had to drag her from the store. People pulled out camera phones to film it.

    -The bicyclist who juked around a car and dinged a sideview mirror of a BMW. The Beamer driver took off after the guy, boxed him in at the corner and got out with murder in his eyes. Full on fistfight in the street at Damen Irving Park, not a "bad" neighborhood by any measure.

    -People in stores in general. Everyone on a cell phone. I felt weird not yammering away into one. People grabbing, shouting, cutting in front of each other. Just this profound sense that they were better than all these other sorry assholes buying bedding and sheets. And the shit people buy...

    -The children. Do people have kids now just to open up a new avenue of consumer products to purchase? I think so. There's just such greed so early. Kids clutching for useless stupid plastic nonsense.

    I know that this is nothing new. Kids in ancient Rome were petulant and spoiled and violence in Medieval Europe was far more a matter of course than the occasional slap fight between motorist and cyclist. But right here, where I am, it just looks ugly.

    I went by this industrial area by my house just around sunset. It's alot of old factories, many of them being turned into huge loft homes and office spaces. It's a nice place to walk around, bring a book, find a quiet spot. I realized I like it more and more because it's just a quiet place in the city. Nature is creeping in, sidewalks are cracking with grass and wild plants, the streets and alleys there are getting spotty. I like it because unlike the parks, which are more about sports and activities every passing year to keep them "relevant", this is a place with relatively few people.

    I never thought I'd become one of those guys who wants to move to the country, live away from the crowds. But I think every year I get closer to that.
    •  
      CommentAuthorKatie 80
    • CommentTimeApr 26th 2008
     (1997.16)
    On Thursday I saw a girl who I was best friends with between the ages of 12 and 16 for the first time since our High School reunion in 2006. We'd drifted apart when we started hanging out with different crowds back in the day, but spending time with her on Thursday night reminded me of why we were so close in the first place. She's the same open, compassionate person she was when we were in Middle School and High School, but I'd never noticed how fearless she is. She told me that, once she's done performing in Hairspray (which she gets paid to do), she's going backpacking across India for three months by herself.

    Talking to her made me realize just how many things I don't do because I'm afraid to. Hell, I'm even afraid to be myself most of the time. I'm not even sure why -- I think it's just the default behavior I learned from my mother (not that my actions are her fault, cuz they're not). All I know is that it doesn't make me happy, and seeing her again reminded me that it's possible to be fearless.

    On an unrelated note, I'm also pissed off because I found out that my roommate's girlfriend is lying to him about seeing other guys (they're in an open relationship, but he has no idea that she's seeing anyone else because she's purposefully hidden that fact from him). I'm really not looking forward to talking to her about it because I dislike confrontation and I'm already stressed out from finals. Also, I'm really, really mad at her for treating my roommate this way and I'm not sure how to handle the situation in a calm and rational fashion.

    So that's the skinny. Thank you for hosting these open mic nights, Mr. Ellis :)
    •  
      CommentAuthorzarhooie
    • CommentTimeApr 26th 2008
     (1997.17)
    Self Portrait
    I haven't posted a full-body shot in a while. It feels awkward not posting a headshot, so I suppose you get one of those also:


    getting things off your chest: This one is strangely appropriate this week. I had a big blow-up at my mom because she won't let me get a properly-sized bra for my 38G breasts (Yes, you read that right). She told me to get a breast reduction instead because it would, and I quote, "cost less". Fuck you, mom.
    reporting on your place in the world: the weather here in SD is so fucked up. Three days ago, it was 70 and gorgeous. Two days ago, it was raining in sheets and thundering like Thor was pitching a fit. Yesterday, we had rain, then freezing rain, then sleet, then snow. We got about, oh, 4 inches or so? Up north and to the west, they got upwards of 14 inches. Today? 44 and sunny and windy as all fuck. The weather has multiple personality disorder with a side of ADD, I think.
    talking about The Futur3: My immediate future contains too much math and chemistry homework and not nearly enough drugs or alcohol.
    dancing like a nerve-damage case: *boogies*
    explaining how DUNK! or dr0nk you are: No alcohol, as mentioned previously.
    confessing how your Wrong Love for me has ruined you for other humans and livestock: This one hasn't happened yet.
    Tell me what and who is pissing you off this week: My mother, the weather and my stupid, stupid self.
    Tell me your plans: Working my ass off for the next few weeks so that I can get my GPA up to a semi-decent level, then working my ass off for a good chunk of the summer so that I can start classes in my major in the fall.
    Tell me something filthy: Someone approached me last week about doing some doing some pornography.
    strange: I turned them down.
    and wonderful: My huurs are getting long.
    Tell me where you are: Physically, I am in an interesting place. South Dakota sucks, but I'm dropping weight so my body is getting better. Mentally, I am in a wonderful place. I am motivated and prepared and achieving my goals.
    Tell me who and what you want to be: I want to be someone who does good in this world. I want to be a nurse.
    Tell me what you want to make: I want to knit my dad a scarf and my mom a shawl, but instead I am going to make decent grades this semester.
    Tell me what's next: I can't. My future-machine is broken.

    This week was pretty damn good when I don't think about the weather. I faced one of my biggest fears and stomped it into the ground. I am pushing hard to finish this semester off strong, and I am succeeding. I am finally realizing that I'm beautiful.
  8.  (1997.18)
    I've spent today rewatching Cross of Iron and LA Confidential and desperately avoiding writing an essay I've got in for Friday. I should be okay though. LA Confidential astonishes me every time and Cross of Iron has one of my favourite endings of all time. I've got to write about 5-6000 words and I've written far more in less time. After that I plan to get astonishingly drunk and actually write something I want to write.

    My final student loan installment ever comes in on Monday which I will be blowing on rent, novels, comic books and seven inches. If anyone wants to suggest an awesome book/comic that I should look into purchasing then I'm open to suggestions in all genres, the more obscure the better. I like everything from Cormac McCarthy to Aaron Cometbus to James Ellroy to Scott Lynch.
    •  
      CommentAuthorwaniyetuwi
    • CommentTimeApr 26th 2008
     (1997.19)
    I sang Big Poppa in a sequined coat with a cigar.
    (I love it when you call me Big Pop-pa)
    Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player
    (I love it when you call me Big Pop-pa)
    To the honies gettin money playin niggaz like dummies
    (I love it when you call me Big Pop-pa)
    If you got a gun up in your waist please don't shoot up the place
    Cause I see some ladies tonight who should be havin my baby
    Bay-bee
    • CommentAuthorhalexander
    • CommentTimeApr 26th 2008
     (1997.20)
    m


    This week I built a server with things sitting around and zotted my last windows machine into a windows server so that I could make a failover system out of some open source software. Mind you, this was for school credit, because otherwise I would have been spending all that time with my girlfriend.

    Today, I had a medication mishap and controlled release was not so controlled -- leaving me higher than a kite and reminding me that not all of doing drugs when I was younger was fun.

    The kid comes back tomorrow and I am glad. As much as I like the break other people don't always bow to my childrearing whims. Any mother-in-law advice? I am not looking forward to the 'I just got home from grandma's psychosis'.

    Last week of classes is this week and I haven't done shit-all of work since midterms. Nothing too unusual there.

    My girlfriend is cool, but she hates Leonard Cohen and I am not sure I can forgive her this.