Because I feel like it.

I feel like usin purple. i read The Adventures of Harold and the Purple Crayon to my niece. what a fun form of kiddie valium.

i dont really have much to say, but i wanted to make a photo blog.

the day i got my calf tattooed (lol) i saw other reversible names.. this was my favorite.. Rose. and i love how the E's make thorns ;) poetry.

ok, what else do i got here that i want to comment on...?

Oh, yeah! the same day i got my name, and it was at the same shop i got my skoldpadda (turtle), i went with my friends kenn & his new wife jamie to this "members pub" type place.

i think it was F.O.E., but i dunno.

ANYWAYS, inside was this sign advertising a local band named friggin "Tommy & The Knockers".

in a town that always reminded me of friggin Derry.

(sigh) see why i'm not really crazy? i have proof!

anyways, thats all i have to say right now.

i'm just gonna ride off to dreamland on my very own yoshi.
nothing held back, baby, nothing held back.

"stop texting me" means STOP TEXTING ME!

last night at work, just as i was finishing up all my cleanup and stuff, i was making a fresh pot of coffee. it was around four in the morning. then, i got a text message out of the blue, saying "naw nigga. i'm still @ mats dawg. get here soon playa".

so i thought to myself "wtf?"... and then responded "you got the wrong person dummy"

i got a response saying "mistake my dude. sry. and nigga i aint dumb"

so i threw back "prove it. stop texting. its fucking 4 am, bitch"

then the douche responds with "your mothers a bitch and like i said, my mistake you ugly fag. fuck off b4 i murder you when i see you and your parents to FUCK YOU."

so naturally i said "yeah my mom's a bitch. taught me all she knows. what's your excuse?"

people cant stop, can they? he then texted "ok. i texted you by accident. you cant let it go. now i got when i see you. think im fuckin around pussy."

haha so i said "i love it when you talk dirty baby"

lol he responds with "then ur gonna bust a nutt when i beat you down. your fuckin wit the wrong person and you dont even kno it."

....

i cant believe someone could be so stupid as to call someone a fag, call their mother a bitch, and then threaten murder of three people in a text message.

i dont know who this person is, and i dont recognise the number... now i want votes: is it worth showing these texts to police? i work around them, and they could probably take care of this real quick. but is it worth the trouble?

Why it may be hard for me to blog...

i started a blogspot thing yesterday, but i dont know how far i should go with it.

of course, its a lot easier to think about arts and culture and life WITHOUT having to hear my dad, brother, and some other guy talking about fishing and travel...

"well, we'll see what the water's like, you got, uh, Elk Creek... you got two good spots at Nappy Valley, if the weathers good. but Elk Creek is nicer than Sixteen Mile"
"Gary said there was a big hole in there. it don't freeze in there. I said something about goin to New York, but they dont wanna hear that"
"i love goin up to new york"
"thats like when me, john, them guys used to go for trout back at Bald Eagle Creek, Cinemahoney, Kettle Creek, Stone Creek... thats what i asked Billy, i asked, you know, i asked they dont fish Erie anymore they dont fish trout"
"they stock a lot of trout up there"
"i know, but i told em i'd take em to Potato Creek and show em some trout thatll knock their eyes out"
"well thats like when i went to the mountains and they dont even need to stock that up there, i got so many steelheads..."
"me and herky got up on there by the railroad tracks where they was stocking them and they had three big tankers to dump the trout in..."


i just fucking dare you to try and have sane thought with conversation like that happening. and its a constant. no, seriously. people sometimes wonder why im so over the top with my gay/gore/funny.. well, it keeps me from chewing thru my fucking wrists or reenacting the climatic scene in Amityville Horror 2 (when the son goes nuts and kills everyone)...

"thats the biggest trout i ever seen. he was up under that bank"
"i caught a brownie up there and he was 36 inches, and that wasnt even the biggest"
"gary, well he likes to catch it to eat, but billy didnt eat it until he got that smoker"
"i caught a big brownie up on Trout Run. it was the prettiest brown you ever did see. it was that big around, like a football. i said it'd taste so good it'd make you cry"

...

o shit, i just realized i blogged. but i dont want my first blog to be a rant about why i cant concentrate on blogging. oops too late. see what this shit does to my head? and im not even high right now!

"gary had the temperture down there, high tomorrow 27. gary said 42 tuesday, 40-something wednesday and only a bit of rain. i get up tomorro, im gonna make some chili, gary's gonna make spaghetti, and thats all right. he got his trailer, but its enough. someplace to sleep, someplace to get dressed.."

this shit bores into my head and the only real damage it does to me is keeps me from thinking my own thoughts.
actually, thats a lot of damage, isnt it?

(sigh)... well, wish me luck.