drive faster
yesterday i was letting batman run around behind the building and some drunk came up and starting banging on one of the 1st floor apt doors, nobody answered, and he got really mad and walked over to the dumpster. he then peed into an empty 40, something bugged him, and he dropped the 40 and started screaming some incoherent jibba jabbah. later i was taking batman for a walk and mr. berkley (maintenance/ resident old guy) and the strange looking middle aged woman were out there talking, and the drunk was futher up the sidewalk just kinda starin off into space. i told them what happened and the woman goes 'oh dont worry about him, he's my worse half. he's just mad at the world. maybe if were lucky youre dog'll bite him'. thats got to be the funniest thing thats happened to me in like, at least a week or so. i know the woman lives in this building, i beleive she is renting a room from mr. berkley. does the drunk live here too then? i sure hope not, cause i think batman really does want to bite him.
too much to hope for
i emptied a bottle of 409 on some roaches in the kitchen and now theres like, an inch of 409 on the floor. the smell is pretty overwhelming. those things are fucking tough. the punk rocker of the insect kingdom. like, there was this big one in my room and i emptied a can of raid on it, and matt stepped on it, crunch and all, and i went to dispose of it later and it was gone. THAT BITCH GOT UP AND WALKED AWAY. like, if it were not a roach, i would respect it. but since it is a roach, it must die. (boy im glad im not in youre shoes)
someday we'll look back and laugh.
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guten tag. mein name ist pohle. norbert phole.
if i ever go to germany i know i can at least tell people my name is norbert. ive got that mess down.
the next time i come home i think i'll just save myself some time and slam my head into a car door a couple times.
i went to first friday last night and it was retarded. like, there was no sculpture AT ALL. like, in all of fucking downtown richmond you'd think that there would be at least ONE gallery who would have a sculpture exhibit. no. instead all they showed were photos of richond, and paintings that looked like the photos of richmond. i swear, like, all people do now is walk down the fucking street, see a sign with some peeling paint on it and theyre like 'oh man, here's my ticket to having my own show'. im so tired of photos of richmond. im so tired of photography. photographers are theives. all they do is steal whats already there and then take credit for it. i spent a long time trying to make amends with photography, but its no use. arg. good thing about first friday is that i did see thea and i got to meet eric. eric is not nearly as cool as i thought he would be. i'd say he's lost about 50 cool points, 25 of which he loses for hanging out with some kid with braces who looked like mike weston.
my mom told me my hands feel like leather. ok, you fucking spend all day with your hands in a bucket of soap. maybe i dont sit around rubbing lard on my hands trying to convince people that i look younger than i do. this girl i work with is reading this book called 'toxic parents'. i think i will borrow it from her when she is done.
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hangin out with the rats. i think artoo is starting to nip at sprocket... sprocket has all these little cuts on him. but i never see them fight. maybe its rat stigmata or something. i need to take some photos of artoo. he has the best fur ever. its black and brown and white and grey and a little red in areas. rats are awesome.
one of the mice for my project died today. i suspect foul play. theres this albino mouse whose just up to no good. i know theres some girl who collects roadkill... i tried to find her but she was gone. gone daddy gone.
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my roomate is downstairs having some beautifully dramatic phone argument with, im assuming, some guy she's been dating. she screams alot. how do i end up in these places?
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i bought matt some fugazi records to practice his dj jonx on, but they have not arrived. i also bought a patti smith cd off of ebay and that has not arrived either, but i only won it yesterday so whatever. my theory: some bum took my records. i dont know if the mailman would leave packages on the porch, but i know packages have a tendancy to get stolen around here. if so, im gonna go nuts on someone, ian mackaye style.
FUCK ALL OF THE CARS IN THE PARKING LOT BEHIND MY HOUSE. like, im supposed to have a spot back there since i live here, but like, the once a fucking month that i do have a car (when i borrow my dads)I CANT FUCKING PARK IT BACK THERE BECAUSE OF SOME SHITHEAD NEIGHBORS who seem to think their friends red saturn deserves the place instead. fuck cars, and above all, fuck you you fucking peice of shit sorority girls. i hope you die.
on a side note, i had a dream last night that my roomate died in a car accident. i dont really want her to die, she's alright.
i hate roomates that make little songs about how nobody fills up the ice cube trays and sings it really loud so that i can hear it in the living room. i dont use your ice, its fucking cold out. if i want ice i'll snap an icicle off of the fucking porch. i remeber matt and jesses apartment on grace street, there had to be at least 10 ice cube trays in the freezer, all empty. i would like to somehow gain ownership of these trays, make an ice cube tray projectile gun, and fire the whole fucking lot at my roomate. at this point i would like to thank matt and jesse for never filling up those trays. thank you.
break
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oh yeah, i have a website. quick update: lost my rat while walking down the street in front of some rich people houses. i hope he tears those places apart. at least he'll have some good trash to go through. next day found a dog in front of the fine arts building. take the dog home, name him batman. dog rules, roomate (who ACTUALLY lives at boyfriends house, not the same one i live in) sucks. roomate gets mad, doesnt say anything to regina, a couple days later i get an eviction notice because my roomates mom called my landlords (after my roomate called her mom, cried, her mom called my mom, bitched, and then my mom calls me at work and bitches at me, regina gets in trouble at work for being on the phone, and then goes to smoke a cigarette for half an hour) told them i had all these pets i wasnt allowed to have. get furious. arrange a talk with roomate, roomate sucks, i say 'i'll move out since i cant have my animals here'. whore. anyway, now i live at matts house 5 days a week, go home on the weekends when i know she goes home to NN. cant wait until june.
need to break from school rising. planning several road trips to fill a year off. i plan to live in a van and sell t shirts and prints for gas money. also, i want to buy some ice cream, but thats a more immediate sort of thing.
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its so crappy outside. nothing better to do than curl up in bed with a couple spoonfulls of coffee ice cream. ok, its time.
things to do:
-buy wallet/organizer to get organized. something ive never been good at. prompted by my losing my credit card at least 2 times a week, along with keys/books/homework/your mom (shannan).
-find that chick from the distillers show and beat the hell out of her. i dont like that girl. she's like a tinier, winy-er version of the fat guy in the rancid shirt. she left when the good band came on,too. lame.
-get a new piercing/tattoo. ive become friends with a girl at work who is probably the coolest person ive met in a long time. her name is thea and she's a rockin girl. she and her boyfriend live in shockoe bottom. he does music and she does tattoos and puppets for street theater. she has a liscence to perform magic in buffalo. narf.
-drop out of school, move to europe.
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wait, one last thing.
I DONT WANT TO HEAR ANOTHER FUCKING THING ABOUT THE DC PUNK SCENE IN THE 80'S AND HOW TOUGH YOUR LIFE WAS AND HOW EASY WE YOUNGINS HAVE IT. YOU ARE NOT A REBEL OR A PUNK ROCKER. YOU ARE LAME AND BITTER AND HANG OUT WITH PEOPLE 10 YEARS YOUR JUNIOR JUST TO MAKE YOURSELF FEEL COOL. SO JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP AND LISTEN TO SOME NEIL YOUNG ALREADY. thats why I got pma.
and the baby looked at me.
i applied as a cook at 929. i know im not punk rock/metal/bitter/dyed/pierced/tatooed enough to work there, but straight up, i have more experience than all those motherfuckers so they'd better hire me. free food here i come.
no, you get off of my school.
someone put a jehovas witness booklet in the crate on the back of my bike. probably a witness. how low, how lame.
i still havent bought the book for my film class. the mid term is on thursday. i should probably get on that. i feel like dropping all responsiblity. i dont want anyone to expect anything of me. i dont want to be in school i dont want to have a job. i want to get on my bike and follow the clouds far away from here.
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some girl called me a bitch at plaza the other day. after i told her i didnt care about her project. i guess that was a bad day. she expected us to do her homework for her. fuck people who think the world owes them something.
now i need to find a new place. poo on that.
yesterday i hung out with myself old-school. walked around richmond following clouds and listening to music. i like it when i can choose my own soundtrack. somehow it doesnt seem so smelly and shitty when you cant hear the bums harassing you. i dont care what they do as long as i cant hear them. i applied for a job at the phone place. talking to sal made me confident that we'll still be friends after i quit.
squirrel is having a dinner on friday. maybe i'll make sushi.
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i love angry roomate notes. like, at least i live here. no one will get that, but whatever. oh, if only matts parents had a calder drawing, then maybe we would be cool enough.
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no no whiteman. something about fall makes me want to listen to green day and have a website again. fall is some ultimate green day listening to weather. i know summer is going to throw one last punch, but it better be ready for a fight.
i made some chili today, and let it be known. this one goes to 11.
narf-a-doo in women's shoes