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  1.  (2269.1)
    Is Saturday Night Open Mic, comrade whitechapel. Saturday Night Open Mic, wherein you:

    * pledge your allegiance to me

    * vent to me, because on Saturday nights I'm here to listen to you

    * recount all the beautiful and terrifying ways in which you love me

    * tell me what you're doing tonight

    * and, if I don't know your face, show me a picture so I can put a face to the name.

    I read everything posted here. Tell me what's happening out in the world tonight.
    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008 edited
    One of the rare saturday nights I'm staying at home, because I've allready been to concerts on thursday and friday and - like always - had many, many beers those nights and I think of getting too old and tired for that crap. So, tonight it's just me in my living room. Just finished working on some of my cheap electronic music and will know type some stupid things into the internet before going to bed.
    Turned on the TV besides. "The Longest Day" is on the air.

    Regarding the allegiance and love thing: I'm here, so you know I'm a fanboy. Sorry, that's all you will get from me. Maybe I'm an ass, but I don't care.Haha.

    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008
    I pledge allegiance to Warren Ellis, bearer of beautiful atrocities. I have nothing personal to bitch about tonight (exciting!). I do not love you. Tonight I am going to a birthday party, and then skulking around the city with my bag, hanging letters from flowering trees.
  2.  (2269.4)
    Had an operation on my foot a couple of weeks ago. Went back to the doctor yesterday for a check-up and got told that the scar tissue is forming erratically and the only solution is for him to give me a series of chemical burns to 'sculpt' the developing scar.

    I've begun to regret reading Global Frequency, as I'm now half convinced he received a vision from God while huffing ether and the treatments will end in a 3D portrait of Joseph Merrick beginning at my ankle.
    • CommentAuthordoublewulf
    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008

    Here I was, on a plane back East to see the family during the Holiday Season.

    Tonight, I will be shopping for the cheapest possible air fare on the same general flight plan. Head from the City on the Edge of the Future, Washington to Murder Bay, Maryland, then drive from there to the Steel City for the Ogre Wedding. My best friend from college, nicknamed Ogre, will be tying the knot to another college friend, after some six years of dating. She refused his proposals until he quit smoking cigarettes. Wise woman, and one of the few I have ever met who could handle an Ogre the proper way--beating him to a pulp when he steps out of line. He, of course, loves it. This should be a formal affair, with lots of family involved. At least I will not be in the Wedding Party, and can concentrate on relaxing among strange family, and try to remember how to Polka. Every Steel City wedding has to have Polka; also usually the funky chicken will be involved.
    And of course, once they say the words, I won't have to claim any responsibility for him. This one marriage, of all my friends and relatives who have tried to live to the imaginary American standard of marriage, I have some small hope of lasting as long will be claimed in their vows.
    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008
    I'm staying in tonight. I don't have a steady job right now so I don't have any money to go out with, and I should probably keep working anyway. The job situation is getting a bit desperate and people are starting to say things like "I say a Help Wanted ad at the mall today..." It's difficult not to hit them in the face. It's a bad time to be looking for work in America.
    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008

    Tonight, my wife comes off blood thinners after a pulmonary. embolism in October. This means we're drinking some alcohol. She has a nice local wine, and I have a fucking big bottle of Rogue Amber Ale.

    Looking forward to that shit.
    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008 edited

    I pledge allegiance to the brain
    Of Warren Ellis, Esquire,
    And to the perversity for which it stands,
    One mindfuck, under Baal
    With arse eels and bowel disruptors for all.

    I love you so much that I bought a Sig P220 semi-automatic pistol in .45 ACP today and named it the Warrenator. I'll be playing with it tonight, putting big-ass holes through paper targets adorned with zombie faces while thinking "What Would Warren Do?"

    Beautiful and terrifying!

    Sometimes you just need things that make a big boom.
    • CommentAuthorwolvzor
    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008
    - Allegiance is pledged to you.
    - Venting due to the wonderful joys of fixing a mountain of bugs dumped on me on this glorious Saturday. It's good to be a software engineer.
    - Freak Angels is beautiful in that it brightens up my Fridays, yet when my mind thinks about certain aspects of the storyline, I do get a bit terrified.
    - Tonight? Ah, tonight I fix more bugs. Yes, I'm trying to be artificially cheerful. Is it working yet? :|

    Hopefully tomorrow will be better. I see more bug fixing in my future tomorrow, but I also see the first date that I've had in a long time.

    Obligatory picture:
    • CommentAuthorhank
    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008 edited
    I just finished 7 hours of house cleaning, in preparation for a study group from her Friends Meeting (Quakers) to come over and discuss 13th century mystics. I am pondering alternative activities, as I have only middling interest in 13 century Mystics and more in 13th century Magicians.

    I also need to finish some homework, but it will get put until for tomorrow morning.

    I just finished reading the Extremis trade. It was good shit. I am glad Fraction is building on it, since it has a lot of potential hooks for new stories for Iron Man.

    • CommentAuthorocvictor
    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008 edited
    I have decided I am doing fuck all for the rest of the day. I'm going to read through a stack of comics, drink wine and begin catching up on "Battlestar Galactica." It's going to be a nerd fucking paradise. Ahem.

    These past few weeks have worn me down. I've been working on this new arts & entertainment newsletter for the newspaper I work for, and making the case for the weird little bands and art events that otherwise fall through the cracks. I seem to have gotten what I wanted at the price of promising to write something nice about Nine Inch Nails. Sigh. It could have been worse. It could have been "American Idol Live," in which case, I would have had to shoot myself in the head.

    Also, the comic I've been working on is up to artist #6. Woo-hoo! The ones I've had before either A.) eventually had to admit that they were too busy working professionally to commit to working on spec, or B.) were overwhelmed by the realization that drawing a comic is hard. The new one has promise, as I've worked with her before on other projects. Sixth times the charm!

    Victor looking moody
    • CommentAuthorScottS
    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008
    Probably will go to the gym in a bit.
    Had a really atrocious day at work on Tuesday... so bad I was on the verge of just quitting and telling my supervisor to go fuck herself. I resisted the urge, though I spent most of Tuesday night looking at craigslist trying to find a new job. The problem being that the only thing I feel qualified to do is customer service and I really don't like doing it. I'd love to get a job doing some kind of writing, but naturally everyone wants years of experience and unless I count the postings I do on forums, or my first draft of novels, then I don't really have any experience per se. So I feel trapped in terms of what I can do to earn a living, which has been causing recurring bouts of depression. It was bad enough a few weeks ago I actually went to see a therapist which resulted in fuck-all because I have a rough enough time opening up to my wife, let alone to some complete stranger.

    Moving on.... as said, I plan to get to the gym tonight (and hopefully again tomorrow) as I try to lose a few pounds from around the middle.
    Following the work out I may hit the video store to see if there's anything worth renting and then try to start a rewrite on one of the novels.
    In desperation may also buy a few lottery tickets in hopes of winning the $36 million jackpot. Sure, the odds are better I'll be hit by lightning (repeatedly) but y'know...
    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008
    Quit Job. Went Freelance.
    Learning and Playing more now.

    Cool Show & Friends last night.
    Wedding Tonight. Hot Springs later this week.
    New Projects and Plans in the weeks ahead.

    Despise rude, hateful people and those who don't know how to do their job.

    Other than that life is good? Yesh.
    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008 edited
    Waiting for drunk ex to show up at the house again tonight. He got along out in the bars until after 5 AM this morning without getting into a fight and winding his way to my house. Guessing that tonight he'll only make it until 3. His suicidal rampages and rummages in my kitchen implements and medicine chest amuse me to no end. It has happened for the last three weeks, so I've started scheduling it, leaving a note on the door if I plan to be out. Last night, he tried to kill himself with a bottle of Etodolac. This is my knee medicine. Non-narcotic, non-habit-forming, aspirin-like, forgotten patent anti-inflammatory from the land before the TV drug commercial. I pretended to force his hand away from the medicine with all my might and then thrust the bottle at him, got him a Tamarindo Jarrito from the icebox, and told him, "Take it. Take it all. Let's end this tonight." I then sent him onto the front lawn, where he waited for death on a chilly night by a busy street in his y-fronts.

    These little visits have given me more to write about than a hundred hours of actual thinking. Meanwhile, I feel and dandy with the real medicine locked in my car. Poor bastard can have all the Etodolac he wants. Four weeks running now. I'd better switch him to baby aspirin.
    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008
    I pledge allegiance to Internet Jesus(TM). Why? Because he's so clearly insane, it makes the rest of us who suppress our insanity seem disingenuous.

    War, I got nothing tonight. I should be making music, but I can't seem to book time with my producer to finish up my band's album. He's a very busy dude, and I completely understand, but it's an awful feeling having so much of yourself in someone else' hands, and having no control over it. It's like I'm just biding time. In the future I want to make sure I'm entirely in control of the means of production-- so it's my schedule and no one else's.

    I'm dreaming. Any advice?

    Anyway, I'm going to curl up with my bulldog and play video games for another half hour before I pick up either the guitar or a book. I probably could prototype/demo some new songs for my drummer and bass player.

    Me, the girlfriend, the bulldog
  3.  (2269.16)
    Lost most of my hair to an overzealous hairdresser.


    And so, because of that, a lot of options for this "Legends of Rock" fancy dress party my girlfriend is throwing are out of the window.

    I'm cosidering going as a member of Kraftwerk.

    The German one.

    I miss my hair. YES it may have been a borderline mullet (tuck it behind the ears, it went redneck) but it was MY borderline mullet.

    O, woe.
  4.  (2269.17)
    I am potentially the first person to comment on this, THE THREAD OF THREADS. On Saturday Nights, that is.

    My allegiance is pledged.

    It's nice to be listened to, especially by someone as fascinating as yourself. Alright, you want venting. I'm 17 and, like most Saturday Nights, I am not doing anything but staying in the house, which lies conmfortably on the east edge of Loagh Neagh. I should be out in the night, getting into discos and regretting that I went in the first place, that sort of thing. TV is my big addiction. Same shit and still, I can't

    A bit harsh since not everything my eyes gaze upon is terrible. Battlestar is still going strong, Doctor Who is about to jump up a notch next week with the annual Steven Moffat Masterclass Of Scriptwriting, Lost still has a grip on me, feeble at times I have to admit but still clinging, and Whose Line Is It Anyway, both the US and UK versions keep me laughing. My book at the moment is 'Die Trying' by Lee Child. Some writer and to think he used to write for Brisish Television. Sadly, after nearly a week, I am only 40-odd pages in. Why? Laziness. Turning pages is nowhere near as hard as turning the channel. I mentiond that I was a social outcast, didn't I? More on that next Saturday Night. Oh, nearly forgetting my despair at not being able to get my thoughts onto page. My mind has a copyright and is not in the public domain for my fingers to use. I wanna be a writer, gosh darnit! The vent is now closed for the night.

    Beautiful or terrifying, you decide. Every few minutes, I check when it was the last time you were active. It always makes me wonder if the time you spend on Whitechapel is not valuable time you could be using to write. Remember, there is only 24 Hours in a day... unless you have found a way around that problem. Temporal arse eels, perhaps?

    I just told you: wasting my life indoors. More detail, then. After writing up this, I will be going to OTHER SITES: sites which have a general and global and GREAT appeal to teenagers. Afterwards, off goes the computer and onto the tv. Sky + has a few episodes of Whose Line Is It Anyway for me to enjoy. Lucozade will be gulped at some point tonight, likely warm due to me not bothering to put them in the fridge.

    My face. See how it shines. Seeing it that big makes me aware that my eye is a bit wonky or askew. I'll need to get ya a more uptodate image.


    Oh, look. I'm not second.

    Next time. I'll pre-prepare.
    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008
    I am pirating a neighbor's wireless signal. I do illegal things for you, albeit small benign things that are ultimately inconsequential.

    My cat is watching the sparrows, grackles, mourning doves, and rabbits enjoy an early dinner, yet he is too fat to do more than whine at the window. Watching the pre-coverage of the Preakness and listening to the commentators who dearly wish they didn't have three hours of human interest stories to pretend to be empathetic about. Another fifteen minutes until the race. I have no money on it. The last horse I bet on broke both her ankles and had to be euthanized on the track. Clearly I am a remote horse killer.

    I have been writing for four hours straight and I am dead from the neck down. These books had better find an audience because I'll need that money for drugs and quacks.

    I have the heart of a black cat in a jar on the night stand near my bed. Every night I wish it was yours. One day I will have my wish.

    Tonight I will write until I am sick of it - perhaps another two hours or so - and then retire to getting my hair washed and a long luxurious bath. I will also plot adding to my heart-in-a-jar collection.

    You know my face, but how about me cleaned up:

    MontiLee Stormer - formal

    There go all of the wee little jockeys. Must be almost time to talk about mounting up.
  5.  (2269.19)

    dont know if ive used this one yet, but i love it. bet you cant guess what happened..

    anyway, this week: stressful.
    last night: free wings and house brewed brown ale
    today:lazy, writing, final fantasy tactics advance (oh yeah)
    tonight: tacos, big benefit show with some older local bands reuniting. should be fun times, people are driving from other states and such for this, so the energy level will be pretty high. i have a quandry though: at a medical benefit for a small child, is going out dancing in a surgical mask inappropriate? i do it often, but i think ill leave it at home tonight....
      CommentAuthorGreg SBB!
    • CommentTimeMay 17th 2008
    1. I'm three weeks into a screenwriting adult education class. Don't laugh.

    2. I'm spending my last Saturday night of Being 29 (ie. Not 30) at home, alone.

    3. I'd be happier if my life was Going Nowhere, since that at least implies a thwarted purpose rather than no purpose at all.

    4. I suspect that 1-3 are, in some way, very much related.