April 8, 2005 Rendition of the Hermitood

yeah so i made up a word...WHAT NOW BIA!?!?--thought so--
"you suckin meh wiener!?" As I walked through the doors to the school side entrance this morning. "noooooope, I ain’t no man to give no never mind." Well Korey seems to be losing his mind with these senseless jokes. But I understand since the comradery between him and his…well, hardcore dancing comrade Bill haven’t been so compassionate. Bill’s kind of "TO’d" Korey told his girlfriend about his phone calls and flirting with this girl at school. I didn’t know, and I don’t want to know or be involved in anymore drama; I have enough to satisfy a small army of drama queens as is. If I was korey, I’m sure I wouldn’t have said anything to Bill’s lady, but Korey’s a fat white suburbian boy. Kendra and I called him a social parasite this morning, Kendra—"He’s taking all my friends!", Korey—"yeah, Daniel’s my friend now too", Kendra—‘Daniel doesn’t even call me anymore", Me—"so you’re saying he’s a social parasite?"

Schoolllllllllllllll yeahhhhhhhhhhhhh… a lot of time to be disobeying my teacher and read blogs. I’ve come across some damn good blogs today. Lowlandseed, bitchPHD, and a few others. Good stuff though. So I guess George Alan deleted his blog, maybe it’s because he’s a pansy who can’t take some criticism, or maybe it was too much drama for his career. I mean, I'm pretty sure it's easy to ruin the reputation of a man who wears whitey tighties for money. what a douch...
So I've been sitting around looking a stupid webpages all this time, except for my cigarette breaks of course, and i've been trying to figure out something to do this great weekend. My mom's working and everything. That means i could go anywhere anytime.

Well now that it's 11 P.M. I've been helpped in many ways, hurt in many ways, and considering some way out. But thats all changing, see i have something in mind. I'm going to discuss some things with myself via typing in this blog. Wipe myself clean of my disgrace, pick up my jaw off the floor--been reading some people's work--, stop staring at the screen vacantly, and look at other's lives, like George Alan, what a douch. If conceit was strawberries, lets just say he'd be no skinny model anymore. Let me accommodate you and let go of this topic. Icould go on for too long. Lets see, lets see, in my agenda for this evening I've accomplished a great deal of trivial bullshit; I've undoubtingly stumbled upon pointless shit and moved on enough times to consider myself an ADD addict. I can't satisfy my curiousity for this stuff; people's daily lives on html paper, where you can find them rambling about their kids and what they plan on doing to their wives or husbands when they return from "rough day at work." ADD, attention deficit disorder? pfff more like UIAC (You-e-ac), Uninterested In Anything Complex. So I've been suffering from UIAC, aiming to consulidate my thoughts to a subject I could focus on with no luck.
I lost faith; I'm back from my second attempt. It's 12:30. The patriot Act II Draft is either the cause of a heart attack for political analysists or a sleeping aid for the people suffering from UIAC. I've reached the pinnacle of boredom, and there's nothing to do up here but look down, down to my feet. And eventually back up to the screen to try again. No more politics.
Portishead is a godsend, my playlist on random suprises me. "this mess will end"--Portishead
Unfortunely I'm seeing no accessable ways out besides sleep, and I've had 2 cups of coffee, almost. Gabe is persistant, rubbing his wet nose all over my leg and sleeves, "such a cute little doggie, come here." He's lucky i almost killed him, or i wouldn't have the pity to allow him to continue. Besides he's just laying there next to me now, waiting for me to look at him licking himself. He loves me, it's obvious. Obvious he doesn't remember me and my accidental attempted dogslaughter via moldy capuccino. Am i really that bad for throwing some old breakfast drinks out my window? I think or at least hope from now on he'll keep his face away from mold.
David went to "use the bathroom." For you girls out there who may not know what that is, let me "brake it down fo ya." If a guy is gone for more than his fair share of bathroom time then he's not using the bathroom. No person takes 15 minutes to go to the bathroom, i don't care if they have chlamydia, there's just no way. Sign two he's performing some sexual act is, when he comes back, he types short answers; ex. "hmm" or "nothing." Or better yet if he mistypes those small words as if he's struggling to say something fast; ex. "nothig n relly." Yeah you pretty much caught him red handed, but you might as well give up in your quest to justify yourself. I say this because i posed the question in a nice mannor as you would have done if in my shoes, "so, be honest man, you were jerkin the 'ol mommy daddy button weren't you?!?" I got a reasonable answer, "no ddue waht yo takling bout?" Wait a second...maybe there was enough justification in that response to answer the question. Well...maybe he needed that, everyone gets sexually frustrated every once in a while.
Which brings back to this morning--or should i say yesterday morning now?--when Bill said he hadn't masturbated in two weeks, and thats why he had so much energy to do his "two stepping" in the doorway. Sure people stared and probably wanted to know why he was doing this as they walked in, but he explained it all in that sentence. Sexual frustration brings you to sexually frustrated actions, which included everything from rape to hardcore dance moves and dirty dancing in the morning. Bill's a character, charismatic and resourceful. Nothing can hold him back, not even his white suburbian background.
Gabey Baby freaks everytime a ride cymbal is being used in a Portishead song. He looks like a tipped cow, perfectly still, like he's sleeping, but as soon as the ride cymbal strikes he on his feet staring at me, ready to pounce.
My precious Starcraft! This soulless computron ate it, and ambiguously brought me to my knees, for both weeping and cleaning. I was scared i was going to touch the motherboard and that the little static shock it gave off would fry it, happens all the time to unsupecting amateurs like myself. I have almost no experience in cleaning drives, or even opening computers up for repair or installion. I not only had to clean the drive for myself, but also for my mom who wanted me to email Audrey's graduation pictures asap; "Orionnnnnnnnnn!, i've asked you 3 days now, and you still haven't done it!"
"Mom, i shouldn't have to do it, i set you up with an account and showed you how it was done."
"I asked you to do me a favor!"
Mumbling i say, "a favor...whats that mean again?"
Sometimes my mom is suprising with her lack of respect and her ignorance saturated fat head.
I'd like to say I'm done writing now, but I'd be lying. I think I'm going to move on to the science relgion article for the other blog.
Jesus, i've wrote a short story. The only thing missing is a moral, or some sort of point to make it all come together. Oh, i got one or even two.
1. Masturbate! ONANISM = GOOD FOR YOUR PHYSICAL AND MENTAL WELLBEING! And, well so you won't do crazy stuff.
2. Don't drink coffee to stay up late, when there's nothing to do, take my word on that one.
Hell I'll even leave a third...
3. Remember never to throw moldy capuccino or moldy...ANYTHING out your window.