You can treat the virus. But, you can't kill it.

"Never argue with an idiot. they will bring you down to their level and beat you with experience."

- Bar Room Hero

Featuring

Nothing, right now, until I get my act together.

News, 1/31/'02

So much to say. Too much to say. At least all at once. I just got back to California from my traveling excursions in Florida. Florida is a sess hole pit. A cultural vacuum, if you will. I'm still looking for a job, but it's only my third week back so I'm not completely despondent.

Welcome to the Comfort Revoloution. It's a little something something that my friends and I are cooking up. The statement is pajamas with army boots, dig? See, comfortable even while kicking ass. It evolved for a mutual hatred of the "new ager"/"candy raver" atmosphere our generation seems to be... well... generating. And the naked truth is that new agers are the weak link. They're a bunch of whiney little waif-boys. Fuck all that. The Comfort Revoloution is taking over.

So, my exboyfriend and I officially broke up on September, 11. Bad day in general - an even worse day for him. See, he started pushing me around and other bad stuff. He got too controlling, I should say, so I kicked him out on his ass. I felt bad about it. I had really loved him for a while. But, if love is gone, it's gone and that one of those emotions you just can't fake.

In turn he joined the Marines (like an idiot) and is now a patriotic robot. Good for him. Hopefull Ben Laden will shoot him in the small intestines so he has to wear a bag around his waist for the rest of his life. Before he left for Paris Island, though he did a monolouge at Brava Theatre about how I'm some evil bitch who ruined our relationship and then shoved a hanger up my twat and killed our unborn child? Jaded had to drag me out of the theatre kicking and screaming, trying to storm the stage. The damned rat bastard. Not Jaded. My ex.

But, I'm not bitter.

Sometimes I get the feeling I'm operating on a completely different level than everyone else. I'm probably right, but it may just be paranoia. In any case my friend and I nearly got jumped the other night walking through the Mission. Some drunken gangster - who happened to be huge - got on us for being "punk rock". Yea, we're so hard core. Then, he actually hit my friend in the face, so of course, I jumped in at that point. I got in between them and told him to leave my "cousin" alone. It was kind of humiliating. At least for my friend. May be he wasn't embarrassed. I was embarrassed enough for him. In this world you have to stick up for yourself. Peace, love, and happiness is great in theory, but that was John Lennons mantra and look what happened to him.

I'm pretty sure the guy was just looking for a fight. Anyways, I went home and pulled a few strings. I doubt he's going to be messing with anyone else anytime soon.

By the way, I'm kosher.

Sorry, I just had one of those what the fuck moments. You know what I mean. It's so ashame the world spins this way.

So, I'm a loser. At least I'm good at it. And I'm not quite dead yet, so I'm not unredeemable. The Official Dead Empty Homepage. Always fun. Also try Frosty Lips. That's fun, too.

You never going to believe this. O, the humanity! O, the sodomy! Sexy Losers
Cadaver
Frosty Lips
The Official Dead Empty Homepage
Fucking Christ

That's it for now.

Cheers,
Lost

Feedback and/or submitted articles are always welcome.