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A main circuit cable, plugged into the fetish dreams of white-trash America! — LiveJournal
Keep Your Mind Wide Open Just For Me

"I suggest that a patriotic American who cares for her or his country might act on behalf of a different vision. Should we not begin to redefine patriotism? We need to expand it beyond that narrow nationalism that has caused so much death and suffering" ~ Howard Zinn WW2 Bombardier

Current Mood: creative creative
Current Music: CNN

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Peter Steele, lead vocalist and bassist has passed away.

They truly had their own sound and recorded one of my top 25 metal albums of all time in "Bloody Kisses." This is the song they're best known for--from the "Bloody Kisses" album-- "Black No. 1."

This song also brings back fond memories of me in '94, scoping the quirky fringy girls in the coffee houses on Pittsburgh's South Side, when I had hair down past my shoulders and my sideburns trimmed into razor sharp pointy chops.

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I've been bombarding myself with superbowl coverage and I have to say I'm pulling for the Saints a little, although I'm ultimately neutral when my Steelers aren't involved. Both Indianapolis and New Orleans would get something to shout about and be proud of in the wake of dark times, with the Big Easy rebuilding from Katrina in a recession, and Indy trying to find a new economic identity in a region that has historically had trouble generating industry and putting the local masses to work. For sports fans in regions falling on hard times, a world series or superbowl win can be like a lift in the communal shoe. The Steelers won four superbowls and the Pirates won two world series when the steel industry collapsed. Pittsburgh's two most recent superbowls were won in the wake of a recession and high unemployment. That said...

I'm so sick of everyone eating Peyton Manning's ass like he's a golden god. Yes, he's destined for the Hall of Fame for good reason, yes he is the Colts' best qb since Johnny Unitas and Earl Morrall, but come on. Tom Brady and Ben Roethlisberger have fewer playoff chokes and more rings, and are more clutch. Drew Brees means as much to his franchise in NO that Manning does. Brett Favre took a Viking team that was could have looked forward to maybe 10 wins and a wildcard berth with Tavares Jackson and got them within a field goal of the big one. And now, so I don't have to see grown men practically fantasize on national tv about having sex with Peyton Manning, I'm pulling for the Saints. Besides, the Saints also wear black and gold like my beloved Steelers.

Current Mood: cynical cynical

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I had a few beers with my friend Alex who got laid off this morning. I'm now shitfaced and listening to Taylor Swift.

Now... Am I listening to Taylor Swift because

A)I'm a dirty old man with dark, dank desires
B)Because I'm shitfaced
C)Both A and B
D)Because nothing says to mom that I have my shit together like me having a hangover when she arrives this afternoon.

My girlfriend and my mom are meeting for the first time this Thanksgiving. Honestly I think it will go well but both are stressing out about it and its making me want to reach for the Bacardi. And evidently teen pop masquerading as country music.

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I've not smoked a cigarette for two months. In that time I haven't done much cardio, have fought with my exgirlfriend, I have let my current girlfriend cry into my shoulder when we couldn't get the little quad to start and I know that I have a shot to win the Buffys at UBF this year.

Other notes:
1)I am convinced my ex contracted fullblown gheyds.

2)Based on other anecdotal evidence, in other words goddamn hard science, Indiana is probably where gheyds was produced in a top secret government experiment gone awry. Either that or its a curse for no one wanting to admit how much shit Larry Bird talked on the court until after he retired. If you refute this then you must think the earth is flat.

3)Today's word is Waterlilies.

Current Mood: high high

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In the past I just kept it to myself.  Now I am telling every man woman and child whose retinas are within reading distance that I quit smoking.  I officially quit at 4:30am this morning while at work.   It's been a bizarre year so far...

Once again, I have quit smoking!  This is a prelude to accepting my work schedule isn't changing any time soon and I finally need to get back in the shape I was in 2 or 3 years ago.

Current Mood: anxious anxious

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I've been making simulated bondage porn for many a moon, and I can't think of a better way, after my tenth year of this hobby to find justification for all that pixelpushing than my first legit Photoshop tutorial.  You can find it at the link below.  I have to give my girlfriend props for pointing me out to Spoonfed Design for an assignment that was a very good fit for my skills.


The finished product is below.

Current Mood: accomplished accomplished
Current Music: Guns n' Roses - One in a Million

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I made a point of it in December to budget with a little more foresight, since I generally don't see my first full paycheck of the new year until the 2nd or 3rd week in january. I doubled up on my bills so i could skip some if necessary in January and still be in good standing. I didn't go to the truckstop titty bar when I was up home like I do every Christmas break, you get the idea. It was a good thing, too.

Something in the rug at my mom's new place gave Jock a nasty rash. At first, the day before I went home, I figured it was probably the dry and the extreme cold, which he was not used to. His skin does tend to get dry at times, even if he's free of fleas. The next day he was scratching and biting so bad he was whimpering and even broke skin on his belly and inner rear thighs. I got him into the vet as soon as I could, got his semiannual knocked out, plus some tests, including a blood screen that I requested. It turned out to be some sort of bacterial infection, and the meds prescribed have been doing the job (2 pills a day to kill the infection, 3 a day for itching). The thing is I walked outta there paying nearly 200 bucks. It was worth it, but damn. Goodbye beer money.

In other news, here's something I'm going to crosspost in childree and cfhardcore.

These two white trash beautiful nibblets decided to clog the lane while I was running a couple miles at my local public track.

Generally as a courteous but noticeable reminder to some, I'll move around anyone who maybe was caught up in their Ipod or woolgathering and pass them to the left in the grass.

Well, the teenager didn't budge even after her mom looked over her shoulder and saw me coming.  All I did when i passed her lambchop on the left was look back at them over my shoulder for a breath before i moved on.  When I was about to lap them again, I saw they were indeed being courteous and using the outside lanes.  Here I'm thinking as I'm jamming to G n' R on my ipod that they got the hint.
Well, Mother Firefly looks over her shoulder and sees me coming and i was still in the innermost lane.  She nudges and gestures to her precious to move right back into my path.  This time I pass on the inside once again, this time glaring back over my shoulder for a couple seconds (making sure there was no one ahead of me beforehand.)  I get the WTF shrug and Mom gives me a dirty look.  My thirty minutes of cardio was almost up so I let it go and our paths didn't cross again as I walked my cooldown lap.  Still, it obviously pissed me off enough to have to vent somewhere.  

I'll probably post a modified version of this at the childfree community at livejournal even though that place is full of overconfident people who wear alternative lifestyles as their only badge of honor, clueless sixteen yearold emo kids, furries, and mouthy wiccans.

Okay... I'm done venting.  I'm going to hit the showers.

Current Mood: annoyed annoyed
Current Music: women's pro biliards on espn

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It was fun going back up to PA, mainly because I left town and I decided not to go out of my way to be poor if I can help it, unlike anyone older than college age who insists on staying in the rustbelt wasteland. Mom's in good health and just moved into her new place. It's a spacious 2 bedroom apartment in an old, but sturdy and well maintained house. Draftiness aside, and an unintentionally hilarious visit with my alcoholic uncle and some of my cousins, it was a great holiday that was long overdue in recent years.

It's not just shiraz, but Fat Bastard shiraz!

For more Xmas joy with Mom and Jock, go behind the cut.

Read more...Collapse )

Current Mood: moody moody

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Current Mood: discontent discontent

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Scissors cut paper.

Paper covers rock.

Rock crushes scissors.

Fear conquers love.

Is that vague enough?

If I promise to punch you in the mouth will it be all good again?

Current Mood: crushed crushed

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This my new ride. Luanne is a 2004 Jeep Grand Cherokee Special Edition. 4WD, leather heated seats, 4.7 V8, brand new spare in the back, only one previous owner, 72,583 miles when I drove her off the lot, plus a ten disc cd changer in the back. Oh, it also has a sunroof and... best of all SHE'S 100% PAID FOR... with a five year, 50,000 mile powertrain warranty. In other words come what may, if the motor or the transmission go billy suddenly I'm covered.

Plus, in a fit of industriousness, I decided to get my own damn clippers and trim up Jock myself. I didn't do too bad, I think, although I think I'm going to touch up around his paws a little more.

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You don't find your new ride. Your new ride finds you. I found mine the day before Thanksgiving. When I get the motivation to bust out the camera you will see her in all her splendorous pewter glory.

In other news Mom came down and we had a few friends over for the first Thanksgiving I've ever hosted, although Mom took immediate command of the kitchen. One huge plus was she has no trouble with everybody sitting around the tv with their plates watching football. Some people are really cryptofascist about that. Anyway it was the best Thanksgiving in quite some time. No. I didn't take any pictures. Kinda wish I did.

Mom's also testing the dating waters again. I'm glad to see her healing. It makes the space Hugh left behind a little easier to fill. So far Mom and Gerald hang out at the toymaker club where Mom makes her dollhouses and sometimes Gerald helps her finish the occasional roof. At this point she's been to his house and they meet up occasionally for coffee. So far they're stuck on coffee. Mom's waiting for him to ask her out for dinner. It went like this:

Me: Why don't you invite him over for dinner?

Mom: Oh, Wes, I don't want to look like I'm throwing myself at him!

Me: How is it throwing yourself at him?

Mom: Well, I don't know... I think he wants to--

Me: Mom just do it already. You swapped emails while you were here with him. He digs you.

Mom: Not yet. I have a lot salmon and, you know, fish in the freezer. He's not big on fish.

Me: Then make him something he likes.

Mom: *blinks*

Me: What?

Mom: Oh geez. I don't know what he likes to eat. I mean we've only had coffee.

Me: You were at his house. Didn't you see any clues in his kitchen?

Mom: Hmmm.. no. No. He just brought out coffee.

Me: So ask him.

Mom: I don't want to look too bold.

Me: Mom, I've known you my entire life. It's way too late for that.

Angsty old folks. They're so cute.
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I may just be imagining things, but I get the distinct feeling someone is trying to avoid me...

I won't jump to conclusions about reasons, but I have an idea.
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Did you?
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No, its not foxy boxing, but CNN shows us in lurid detail, and with a certain amount of contrived outrage, two girls fight in a playground. I mean the whole thing. Hairpulling, fistpummelling, etc. This all wasn't "Springer" enough so the mom who drove her daughter to the fight yanked the other kid off by the hair and bitchslapped her. Oh, and there were other moms looking on too.

I'm not kidding. The vid shows it all... over and over. I'd make some pithy comment about the general state of parenting but the footage speaks for itself.

Embedded video from CNN Video

Current Mood: shocked shocked

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Are going to just want you to fuck off one day. It's nothing you necessarily did, and they probably won't tell you why, or that they really even want you to fuck off. They'll just start blowing you off for whatever reason. And hey, their decision to just pretend you're not around could range from the Mrs. being pissed off about having friends beyond the brother inlaw or maybe you gave them some straight talk they're not used to hearing. In situations like these, it's hard not be a little bitter, but in the end you just gotta focus on the people that still place value on your company and friendship. Evidently the others got enough friends that give them what they want, even if its not what they need.

Current Mood: thoughtful thoughtful

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In today's world, you are not only entitled to a lucrative career and seven kids, the crippling debt of a mortgage you will never repay, a gigantic land yacht that gets 75 feet to the gallon, greasy fried meat on a healthy whole wheat bun, but you have the divine, endowed right to have plenty of energy while you get shitfaced. Yes. It's JOOSE!

Part energy drink part malt liquor, Joose is just the thing for when I want to get off work and get my beer buzz on in the morning without all the pesky worries of falling asleep at the wheel after cruising back from a morning of playing Madden and general debauchery after a week of graveyard shift fun and MAKING AMERICA STRONG!

That's right people. No need to thank me. I have my can of Joose in its brown paper slipcase at the ready.

Current Mood: dorky dorky

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Myspace has this thing called the Truthbox. If you have a Facebook, it's like the honesty box over there. Seeing as most people under the age of 30 are all entranced with the pretty colors and abundant lack of any nasty reading, MySpace has taken off to the point where I joined up because many LJ friends IRL and on the net hopped over there. Well, at the end of the day, beyond discovering new underground bands here and there, MySpace was little more than a boring place for people who think typing "OMGZ" into someone's comments section is tons of fun for everyone. Then the Truthbox came along...

Basically if you see a truthbox on a profile, you can type anything you want into it and while the recipient can read it, you remain safely anonymous. This is the one thing that can make MySpace sorta interesting in the way LJ can be. The sad part of the Truthbox revolution is that a few of my friends on there put one up, then after a week or less took it down. One friend even went so far as to post a bulletin that said everything but "I"m skeered! Who sed dat. OMGZ!" What this shows is most people don't have the stones to tell someone else the truth or see it laid out for them, even in the safest environment imaginable.

Running scared on the internet. From the Truthbox. Jack Nicholson's seminal line from "A few Good Men rings more true than ever.


Current Mood: awake awake

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I used to think she was dreamy. Then she got a little makeover...

Some women should not try to W.A.S.P. up themselves. If it didn't work for Jessica Alba it sure as shit won't work for Nelly here. She chopped all her hair off, dyed what was left blonde, and now she looks like a jaded Lake Norman soccer mom trying to hold onto her youth for waaaaay too long.

How the mighty and beautiful fall.
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