DrawerFullofSlug

Thu, 28 Jul 2005 23:31:20 GMT

I want to have some sashimi off one of the Lovecraftian elder gods. Wouldn't that be the coolest?

Sat, 18 Jun 2005 03:48:34 GMT

I feel bloated with possibility, like I just don't know what to do with all this JUICE.

**EDIT** No, I haven't just had the cock ring on too long, fuckers.

Thu, 12 May 2005 19:46:11 GMT

I am suddenly alone because the sky is blue, the tree green, the street quiet, and because a dog, who is as alone as I am, is walking in front of me. I am moving slowly but with a firm step. I think it is nighttime. The landscapes I discover, the houses with advertisements on them, the posters, the shipwindows I pass as a sovereign, are of the same stuff as the characters of this book, of the visions I discover when my mouth and tongue are occupied in the hairs of a bronze eye, visions in which I think I recognize a recurrence of my childhood love of tunnels. I bugger the world.
~Jean Genet, Funeral Rites.

The appetite for singularity and the attraction of the forbidden in concert delivered me up to evil. Evil, like good, is attained gradually by means of an inspired insight that makes you glide vertically away from human beings, but most often by daily, careful, slow, disappointing labor. I shall give a few examples. Of the tasks involved in this particular ascesis, it was betrayal that was the hardest for me. However, I had the admirable courage to move further away from human beings by a greater fall, to turn my most tormented friend over to the police. I myself brought the detectives to the apartment in which he was hiding, and I made a point of being paid off for my betrayal in front of his very eyes. Of course, that betrayal causes me tremendous suffering, which reveals to me to me my friendship for my victim and an even deeper love for man, but in the midst of that suffering it seemed to me, when shame had burned me through and through, that there remained amidst the flames or rather the fumes of shame a kind of imperishable diamond with sharp clean lines, rightly called a solitaire. I think it is called pride, and humility too, and knowledge too. I had performed a free act. In any case, refusing to let my act be magnified by disinterestedness, to let it be purely gratuitous, an act performed for the fun of it, I completed my ignominy. I required that my betrayal be paid for. I wanted to strip my acts of anything beautiful that might be involved in them despite everything. However, the most heinous crimes are embellished with a bit of light when they are commited by a handsome person who lives in the sun and is bronzed by the sea, and I had to rely on a little physical beauty to attain evil. May I be forgiven for doing so. Because I envisage theft, murder and even betrayal as emanating from a bronzed, muscular, and always naked body that moves in the sun and waves, they transcend this ignominious tone (which was an attraction for me) and find a nobler one, which is more closely related to solar sacrifice.

I hopefully recommend this book to any of you who have revelled in the smells of your own body.

Tue, 29 Mar 2005 20:24:34 GMT

I'm on such a fatty raw fish, wind and tobacco high. Spring is coming for you all!

Tue, 15 Feb 2005 00:44:45 GMT

I wooed her with gas and a wash, and in the end she's the one I went home with. This year, my car is my valentine. Love ya, babe!

Big in Japan

Wed, 05 Jan 2005 04:50:54 GMT

From: Heidi Iro <rippledsizes@tokyo.com>
To : <drawerfullofslug@spittingonyourgrave.com>
CC :
Date : Tue, 04 Jan 2005 00:33:04 GMT
Subject : chikz that sqquirt

We love chicks that sqquirt.
It's an amazing gift that many girls possess,
but only a few actually know their bodies well
enough to do it. It's the ultimate release,
there's simply nothing |-|oter than a girl who
can caam floods and floods of sweet puzzi juice
Link here:
http://hardly.glorious.servsx.com/sqrtingchcks/index.html

Del from base:
http://piteous.swallow.servsx.com/sqrtingchcks/eoeoelodlo/index.html

change hippopotamus ugly .sbk.gulsfollufreward sermon followed, afterwards appearance, teavtime.
Miena enjoyed an occasional bug or minnow.
annoy make below moc.evargruoynognittips exterior sides, anta, carefully, endowed
Dooro couldn't believe what he was hearing. "But, why not!"

Fri, 12 Nov 2004 19:16:10 GMT

It's a sad day for this young dilettante, who for the first time has seen the nature of this foul season undermine the majestic authority of his black chariot.

Take me to Paradise City, where the grass is green and the girls are pretty

Thu, 21 Oct 2004 05:34:03 GMT

Man, I'm probably the last person you'd expect to get excited about a Red Sox win, but I tell ya, driving home from Boston with the cool October air in my hair and my underwear in my pocket, blasting Appetite for Destruction all the way, the city seemed truly jubilant. There were people literally dancing in the streets, and a BMW Z3 with two middle-aged ladies with cigarettes that raced me down Washington St at 75 mph, pausing at a light to holler "GO SOX!!!" before zooming off again.

Man, I get so worked up and brought down by the stupidest shit, but life is so good to me. If only this existential clarity came more often!

As if they haven't been telling me I LOOK like an elf for long enough...

Wed, 13 Oct 2004 03:25:42 GMT

The highlight of a generally dull visit to King Richard's Faire '04 was a conversation held between me and a vendor in full leathers and a pinned and plumed cavalier hat that took place as I was buying a similar hat for my father's birthday, thinking it'd make him feel very Piratey indeed.

Anyway, he was inspecting the, uh, token of Lady Visa which he would invoke in exchange for the hat, and he says to me "Oh, wow, your name's really Dar?"
"It certainly is. Why?"
"I've got a friend whose name is Dar."
"Oh, really?"
"Well...his, uh, character, I mean."
"....Oh. Uh huh."

Honestly, how many of you guys have conversations like that? I should just up and move to ~~Middle Earth~~ New Zealand.

On another note, I just got the new George Carlin book and there really is no one in the entertainment business who I agree with more. He doesn't understand why people who believe in God are treated with any more credibility than people who believe in UFOs? Me neither! And how well does it show the power of humor that he can get away with saying what he does in such mainstream channels, just because he's presented as a humorist?

Show me the lights, where I can find the only thing I need to give me peace of mind

Mon, 12 Jul 2004 01:17:44 GMT

As I sit here in my boxers at about 6:00 PM on Sunday coating myself with arnica, I'd like to recount some of the highlights of Ozzfest 2004.

-Hanging out at the FYE autograph booths while shitty bands like Bleeding Through, Otep, and As I Lay Dying played because we got there early.
You had to buy a CD to actually get something signed, but that didn't stop me from yelling a greeting to the always jovial Jimmy Bower of Eyehategod/Down/Superjoint Ritual, who shared a "JUDAS PRIEST!!!" moment with me over my shirt.
Not so amiable was Randy from Lamb of God, who gave me a big grin and hello when I yelled "Hey Randy, wassup?" but then only mumbled something when I asked "How's the back hair doing?" and ignored me outright when I asked if we could see it.

-Participating in what Lamb of God call the "Wall of Death".
Well, since I was in the pit to begin with, I found myself standing at the front line of this thing, with me and the muscliest guys you ever seen lined up and ready to go. They played, he counted, we ran, and next thing I know is what it's like to be a hamburger as I crash into the guy in front of me and then have the second wave of guys crash into ME. As soon as the fists stopped flying I tapped the nearest 6'6 guy on the shoulder and surfed my way out of there, conveniently collapsing for the Hatebreed and Slipknot sets. My ribs still hurt, but it really seemed like a cool idea at the time.

-Phil Anselmo finishing the short Superjoint set by turning around and vomiting up a stream of brown puke as the band played the last notes of "Ozena."
Sex was meant to kill you, riffriffriff blaargh

-Recognizing some familiar Palladium faces when the long haired kids started showing up for Slayer, who played a professional and vicious short set. Raining Blood, no Angel of Death.

-Standing in the slowest line imaginable to get some water after Slayer so that I'd have a little juice for Priest, only to dash out with three guys between me and refreshment when I heard them start to play.

-Hanging around in awe for the first half of the Judas Priest set, too tired, sore and amazed to move much. That only lasted until "Painkiller," which set me off metal thrashin' mad, two man pit with a american indian with a lot of black hair as the 30-40somethings faithfully shout along every word around us.

-Starting another little pit two songs later, only to land flat on my stomach in a pool of what somebody later told me was piss....gettin' up and not missing a headbanging beat, surrounded by grins.

-Singing the last verse of "You Got Another Thing Comin'" from on top of the crowd and landing right near the stage while Priest took their bows.

-Getting another modeling request from some lady from NY as I was leaving, or more specifically the look on Garrett's face when I told him what the "chick with the card" wanted. Score another one for the coif, that's redemption for all the times I've been called "ma'am", baby.

-The way the first cup of hot and sour tasted at Ocean City in Boston three hours later.

Yeah, I'd say I got my moneys worth.

As the mighty eagle, I need room to breathe/Witness from the treadmill, I take my leave

Mon, 29 Dec 2003 03:43:31 GMT

I'm gonna....I'm gonna....I'm gonna....I'm gonna....gonna....I'm gonna...finish this sentence
With every implement of frustrated teenage aggression I can dream up

Turning the volume up 10 notches is a better way of expressing myself than any of the paragraphs I just backspaced

Cover your fucking ears

My take

Thu, 06 Nov 2003 22:21:35 GMT

Watching the Matrix sequels is like watching a flaccid cock shoot huge loads

(Hey Matt, take your dad -- but leave Cal at home)

Bleeding on your highway baby, Harvest is a' coming in the season of dying

Thu, 16 Oct 2003 22:22:25 GMT

LAW 10
INFECTION: AVOID THE UNHAPPY AND THE UNLUCKY
You can die from someone else's misery--emotional states are as infectious as diseases. You may feel you are helping the drowning man but you are only precipitating your own disaster. The unfortunate sometimes draw misfortune on themselves; they will also draw it on you. Associate with the happy and fortunate instead.

How do you like that? I don't, but there's something to it.
So fuck Robert Greene and fuck you, yes, but most of all fuck me =/

To welcome the fall

Mon, 06 Oct 2003 01:19:23 GMT

Time to get back on track.

All real men play on ten

Mon, 15 Sep 2003 15:30:40 GMT

After a highly restorative trip to Tower Records the other day, I couldn't help but think to myself that as much as I like Fight Club, and as A-OK as that Pixies song is, that final scene would have worked infinitely better had they played Manowar's "Kingdom Come."
Take a few minutes to listen and I have no doubt you'll agree.
Anyway, it's much more of a "Manowar" kind of movie than anything else. Who would would disagree that Tyler Durden would fit right onto a stage with Joey DeMaio and Ross the Boss?

All my hilarity for crack, that's just what I'll need for you

Fri, 05 Sep 2003 18:02:21 GMT

Settling down in Israel now. It's as bad as could have been expected. My grandmother didn't wait until we got home before busting loose with things like "Sometimes I wish I was dead."
Something nearly achieved the way she was driving. Fine, you, but not me too.

Between the grandparents and my other uncle, his wife and their THREE kids (whose hospitality I'm currently taking advantage of), who were there when we got in from the airport, there's such an unhappy malcontent air around I can hardly stand it.
They need money, or time, or youth, or health or affection and I'm ripe for the picking but they could eat me right up and hardly be satisfied.
I can stand in the middle of those 7 and it's like this whirling tornado of desperation and need. What's a boy to do but nail everything down and retreat to the cellar till it passes?

But I've got a nice tight one, so I'll be OK. See you from my other uncles, once I arrive.

milano and burning man worry

Tue, 02 Sep 2003 22:23:24 GMT

At the airport hotel in Milan now, flight leaves at noon tomorrow.
(the subject line was something somebody else had left that was stored)

I'm still not really looking forward to the two week stay in Israel for a couple of reasons, but partially due to my tentative plan to stay with my uncle (by myself) for up to a week I'm no longer terrified by the prospect, more resigned to enjoy myself however I can. Up fucking beat. Anyway if that goes through I ought to be online a lot.

Venice worked out perfectly, in the one day I had there I stopped walking for maybe 30 minutes total (mostly stops to check the map!) and I doubt I'll ever forget some of the experiences.
Still...one of the most poignant feelings I had during my wanderings was a sense of how much "room for improvement" there was in all of my experiences.

At some point, I nearly bought an issue of Maxim off a newsstand. You know, the one with Lucy Liu, Cameron Diaz and Drew Barrymore.
I guess I must really miss....."PORN" :ppp

"There is nothing stranger or more precarious than the relationship between people who know each other only by sight, who meet and watch each other every day, even every hour, yet are compelled by convention or their own whim to maintain the appearance of indifference and unfamiliarity, to avoid any word or greeting. There arises between them a certain restlessness and frustrated curiosity, the hysteria of an unsatisfied, unnaturally suppressed urge for acquaintanceship and mutual exchange, and in point of fact also a kind of tense respect. For people tend to love and honor other people so long as they are not in a position to pass judgment on them; and longing is the result of unsufficient knowledge." - Death in Venice, Thomas Mann.
Phew.

Sun, 31 Aug 2003 18:51:51 GMT

net tv is insane
my family is worse

venice looks breathtaking

Busy, busy busy

Tue, 19 Aug 2003 17:41:23 GMT

So here I am, coming at you from an insane keyboard in a little cafe in a little town out in Tuscany. I have figured out most of its subtleties, or I wouldn't even attempt this post, but the colon still eludes me and without my smiley faces I fear this is going to seem a gloomy post. But I'd like to assure everybody that I'm in very good spirits. Actually, maybe that'll be obvious.

Ok but so here I am and it's treating me very well, the food is so good every time...I can look forward to two excellent meals a day every day, plus a nice breakfast and snacks which would be nothing short of PRECIOUS back home. But here, it's snacks!
And that's something that's nice with all the food, it's two delicious meals expected every day like I said, you don't fuss like I do back home whenever I get something really good. Mmm! mmm!! ohh!! ohh!!!
It's just how it is! And that doesn't mean you take it for granted, it just means...look, it's great, ok?

There are other things, like how nice it is to see my uncle and aunt (who are my favorites) or how beautiful it is, but the main things that have been on my mind that I want to go into...well, my family has been awful. Mom and abba are at each others throats like you can't imagine, and it really throws light onto the easily-forgotten fact that my current family situation is not going to last long at all. They can't work together, and that's not so bad. I almost feel like enough already...
Sort of a "hmm-hnnn"

But with my company so unpleasant, I'm left to introspection. And what happens then? What happens then when I'm lounging around this beautiful country with nobody but my lonesome to consider?

My more romantic side had been keeping quiet for some time, but now....ahh..I don't know how to talk about this. It's especially when traveling for me. I'm like...when I go somewhere beautiful, or eat something delicious or see a good show or anything like that, I enjoy it when I'm alone but I always feel like I wish there was someone to share it with. Because then, you know you're having a good time, but you look at them and see they feel the same and so it goes between you like that back and forth and it gets magnified and multiplied a hundred times over.
There's one girl in particular from back there that I had a bit of that with and I can't stop myself from, in nearly all of the quieter moments, wishing she was here. I KNOW (pretend that's in italics, time IS money here) we'd have the time of our (young) lives if given a chance.

So, circumstances to enjoy my wonderful surroundings are not as good as they could be, but I knew I would be back anyway and I can look at it as a sort of preliminary scouting mission.
Damn, this is turning out to be just full of quasi-Peterisms isn't it? By the way, happy birthday if I don't get a better chance. Hope it swings.

So I thought you would give me more to write about, (though now I look, I wrote a good bit) but my friends list is DEAD! What shit is that? I was hoping for a little Maia post to chew over with some lyrics to hum or something at least, maybe maybe a little bit of Jesse Duddy magic...?
But no! Nothing! So I'm out of here.

P.S Julia don't be offended, go to www.livejournal.com/users/drawerfullofslu/friends, realize that it costs money for me to be on here, and you will see that it is simple economy, ok?

Wed, 02 Jul 2003 06:42:09 GMT

Liar liar with your pants on fire
White spades hangin' on the telephone wire
Gamblers reevaluate along the dotted line
You'll never recognize yourself on heartattack and vine

Doctor, lawyer, beggar man thief
Philly Joe remarkable looks on in disbelief
If you want a taste of madness, you'll have to wait in line
You'll probably see someone you know on heartattack and vine

Boney's high on china white, Shorty found a punk
Don't you know there ain't no devil, there's just God when he's drunk
Well this stuff will probably kill you, let's do another line
What you say you meet me down on heartattack and vine

See that little Jersey girl in the see-through top
With the peddle pushers sucking on a soda pop
Well I bet she's still a virgin but it's only twenty-five 'til nine
You can see a million of 'em on heartattack and vine

Better off in Iowa against your scrambled eggs
Than crawling down Cahuenga on a broken pair of legs
You'll find your ignorance is blissful every goddamn time
You're waitin' for the RTD on heartattack and vine

How's that for Waits, Matty B?

It's currently 3 AM

Tue, 01 Jul 2003 07:09:27 GMT

NYC treated me very well. PA was unmentionable.

In other news, there's this dead guy Charles Bukowski who looks like he's going to kick my ass this summer.

To continue the trend from the time before last, no, the time before that:

There's a devil waiting outside your door
(How much longer?)
There's a devil waiting outside your door
It is bucking and braying and pawing at the floor
And he's howling with pain and crawling up the walls
There's a devil waiting outside your door
He's weak with evil and broken by the world
He's shouting your name and he's asking for more
There's a devil waiting outside your door

Caution

Sun, 15 Jun 2003 02:48:43 GMT

If you've got Miri and Matt over, make sure you own Teflon sheets.

Camping the Speddie Short Bus (with a rifle) pt. 2

Sun, 15 Jun 2003 00:01:17 GMT

Now, onto the day-by-day play-by-play as I remember it.
If you're interested in the rest, I suggest reading the post just below this one first.

--------------------------------------------Monday--------------------------------------------
Packing. Few problems here. First off, making sure to raid all of Abba's awesome outdoorsy equipment that he's accumulated over the years. Stuff you can't leave home without. Examples? Bright spankin' purple Mini Maglite, buckskin water flask, homeopathic flower essences for trauma.
Second issue...clothing. Do you take the pants with the embroidered pink dragons and the paper thin tight blue shirt out into the woods? This wasn't an issue when I remembered we were visiting Provincetown. Then there was my backpack. I wanted to be prepared.
That meant taking 5 new books and over 90 CDs.

Once that was all sorted, though, I showed up at the school bright and early in time to clamber into a bus and be shipped off. The bus was uncomfortably stuffy and way too freakin hot. (See Friday)
Monday was uneventful otherwise, just catching our bearings. At some point the sun went down and people trickled down for some kind of game called Wink that involved a lot of touching one another in the form of "wrestling."
Maia and I kept our distance and were soon joined by Jesse Duddy. That was a pleasant sequence that ended up turning into a pleasant pattern by the end of the week.
However, at some point people decided it would be nice to turn to a slightly more subtle kind of homoeroticism in the form of Truth or Dare, at which point I thought it might be safe to wander over.
I can't remember what Maia did then, but since it doesn't stick in my mind I'm assuming she was better off than me.
Generally, the game was a little boring. The names Spencer and Reese came up way too often for anyone's good, but Lauren had some genuinely good ideas and I dare say that getting to maneuver Jesse to the ground and bruise that nice neck of his was a highlight.
By the way, if anyone's wondering how Jesse tastes...the answer is white. Very very white.
Anyway, there'll be pictures.

--------------------------------------------Tuesday--------------------------------------------
Learned to sleep with music that conveniently doubles as earplugs. Reese and Nathan are a mean tag team when it comes to snoring. I swear they worked out a schedule and took turns.
Got up to find Maia. I don't give a damn whether we're going to beach and I'll need one later, I WANT MY SHOWER BUDDY. There were old and new showers; on Maia's advice, we went old. Nowhere to change, the bottoms of the shower doors were HIGH and the showerheads were LOW. This led to a lot of ducking and then standing on tip toes, but nothing will keep me from my conditioner.
The beach. Well...I love the sand, I love the water, I love the sun, I hate the rest of the environment. It was a very busy beach even before we got there, and the water was too cold to enjoy IMHO, but I enjoyed myself anyway, got to read The Stranger and absorb lots of sun after a cold winter. Jesse kept his suit on the entire time. Uh-huh.
Got back, more Truth or Dare. Even less entertaining.
Smoked a clove. I'll take tobacco any day, smoking loses its appeal if you taste like you've been licking a lollipop afterwards. Not that I would smoke at all; though between a borrowed hat, my jacket and a cigarette...well. "Ever want to smooch with the Marlboro Man?" as I put it to Jesse.
Painful encounter at Maia's tent. I'm trying to keep mentions of this stuff out of here, but I went to sleep very uneasy.

--------------------------------------------Wednesday--------------------------------------------
Woke up at about 6:30 to hear Reese caution the rest of the tent, mostly Nathan, to take cover because He Was About To Put On Some Pants. Nathan told him to shut up. This somehow lasted for 15 minutes or so; I went back to sleep. There should be a certain amount of poundage you're allowed to expose to the world; the bigger you are, the smaller percentage of yourself is allowed to go uncovered.
Reese should not sleep in the buff.

Wednesday's the day we stay at camp, so there's the least to tell, but I enjoyed it because I got to keep good company throughout the day and most of the night. You know who you are, people.
Switched clothes with Jesse Duddy. Anyone who understands why hilarity would ensue is going to get to see pictures so I won't waste space.
I'm looking forward to seeing the pictures too; do I REALLY look like a Filene's model in a suit?
If true, is it a good thing...?
For dinner, Mikel worked his magic on some stir fry that resulted in deeeeelicious sauce. But I couldn't get as much as I wanted, so it served only to tease.
The night was spent channeling my food high into keeping Maia distracted and amused.
Not such a bad chore, really.
Eventually an uncomfortable situation occured, only to be salvaged by two men with extremely distinct silhouettes and the Speddie Bone Short Bus. Roflmao, as they say.

--------------------------------------------Thursday--------------------------------------------
The trip to Provincetown! A mysterious, expensive and overall flamboyant place I've never visited that proved to offer some of the best moments of the whole trip. I woke up with a spring in my step, hunted down my shower buddy and hoofed it with one important change; after two trips to the old, we decided to give the new showers a try. Though much more accomodating facilities, there were only 2 showers there and it was decided that washing yourself with almost no privacy in an almost empty building is a less queer experience than scrubbing with all the privacy you could ask for when the place is stuffed with the "Suck My Balls" kids and their sense of humor.

But then off we go, packing into the bus with a limited amount of cash, a gold card, an empty stomach and some hopes for the fetish shops.
It doesn't take long to realize that it's actually true; Provincetown is packed full of fags. It's almost like a Carlin joke, really. As if the state has deported all of its most flamboyant residents to the very corner of the Cape where they can prance about together uninhibited.
It also doesn't take long for me to end up in a boutique hunting for "ass-pants" with Jesse Duddy.
"Sir, we're here to find some pants that will make this boys ass look FABULOUS."
But if he's going to be in leather, I've got to be in leather.
The results can be found strolling around Sudbury-- just look for firetruck red.
The outfit set the stage perfectly for the rest of the day, the highlight of which was INDUBITABLY an excursion of M.E.A.T (Men Eating Animals Today) to a place called the Lobster Bucket.
Most of you will never understand what finding lobster for $8.00/lb means, but I've found a true soulmate in one Bob Murphy. Along with Reese and Steveo, we got ourselves 14 pounds between us, but you see the deal was that if we were to get that mind-boggling price we needed to take them TO GO.
That's right, our 4 pound lobsters just tossed into a bin for us to walk out of the restaurant with and do with as we please. Now, to some this might seem intimidating, but to a well-dressed me...well, it was no trouble to dash around town gathering what we'd need for a proper lobster feast -- primarily a plastic cup filled with melted butter and a table to sit at.
But people were very friendly about it.

Well, hour and change later all that remains is a bin filled with lobster refuse and four very satisfied members of M.E.A.T.
After watching me go, Bob also offered me an honorary membership in the Fat Brotherhood, which I graciously accepted. It's not everyone who could lay claim to that while walking around in red leather, to the delight of the local population.
Once bragging about our feat to the locals (we didn't throw out the bin with the remains for some time, of course) got old, we decided to go in for some fudge and ice cream at Twisted Sister to top it all off. Then? Time to make my return to Toys of Eros, where I'd earlier been kicked out.
The difference? I was up tight leather, and down one 15 year old girl on my arm.
Sure enough, I was recognized, but once I made my intentions clear to the nice queermo (that I was here for a WHIP, baby), he was more than happy to not only allow me in, but find a friend and give me some personal attention over by the whip rack. I got a full demonstration of each one in stock, complemented by a lurid description of the effect on nubile young bodies.
Quickly enough I was passing over the gold card in return for "The Viper," a nice little toy I'd be more than happy to show off.
Looking back, I don't think I've ever been called sweetheart so many times in such a short span of time. Look at it as a challenge, Ratch.

With both my belly and my ego well-satiated, it was time to return to camp.
Sadly we got back too late for any Truth or Dare action at the beach. After two nights of suckage, I had some good ones!
"Lexi, Truth or Dare?"
"Dare"
"Here Maia, take this. Lexi, 10 lashes."
Sigh. Oh well.

11:45 or so, things are winding down. But Maia, Maia's got a plan.
"Guys! We CAN'T go to sleep on our LAST NIGHT! Think, just think. If we stay awake, the next time we sleep will be in our OWN BEDS! No more damp sleeping bags, it's only 18 hours! It'll be easy if we do it together." (paraphrased, of course; the words don't remain in my mind as much as the powerful ideals.)
Well, how could we not be moved by such a speech? So we set out to do it, the crew consisting of me, Jesse Duddy, Bob Murphy, Matt and of course Maia. All was going well, but we're maybe an hour in before Maia throws in the towel, claiming that she's too cold.
A huge let down to be sure, but she wasn't being very much fun anyway-- if you ask me, that's why she was cold. We were keeping ourselves warm by howling with laughter, something she was refusing to participate in. Go figure.

However, replaced by the strength of a common cause, we were kept awake by the desire to spite our once-ringleader and show her what we were made of. It's beyond me to describe most of our adventures because the stuff I'd like to tell I don't remember much, and the conversations with Bob and Jesse that I DO remember, I'm not interested in reproducing here.
But it was, to quote J.D, "fuckin' awesome" and we DID get front row seats to watch a hapless sleeping bag take a ride on the Speddie Bone Short Bus.
Not to mention our run in with fucking GOAT SKUNK sometime in the wee hours of the night. Me and Jesse, walking back from a piss, his flashlight flicks over this albino beast 15 feet away making scary noises, tail raised. We slowly backed off, narrowly avoiding what would have been a huge tragedy-- after we were clear and back at the pavilion, we came to the conclusion that we would be the absolute worst two people to get skunked, considering that between us we were wearing over $3,000 worth of clothing.
Next thing I knew, sun was up, it was raining and the temperature had dropped hard. Trenches were being dug outside the pavilion to keep the water out, mostly by the team of Megan, swathed in rain gear with a stick and Spencer right by her, NO RAIN GEAR, getting soaked through in the name of True Love.
I'm inside, trying to stay warm by toasting bagels....eh, nuff of that.
--------------------------------------------Friday--------------------------------------------
Nothing much to say about Friday. It was more like Thursday just kept going, except I was progressively more tired. I didn't even shower; due to Maia's behavior the night before, it seemed only appropriate to cut her off.
The bus ride, though. The bus ride was so nice and warm, after a night of horrid freezing damp.
Just ask Jesse how much I was grooving on that, he ought to know since I kept trying to stealth sleep mid conversation.
Eventually I got back, though, and it was everything I could hope for. Had a delightful welcome-back meal of Oishi sushi and after I got as much internet as I could handle, collapsed in bed so as to be able to wake up at a proper hour for surprises this morning.

Yeah, sure is good to be back at the 2-stick tent.

BITCH.

Camping the Speddie Short Bus (with a rifle) pt 1.

Sat, 14 Jun 2003 16:56:29 GMT

I'm home! I'm clean! I'm dry! I'm covered in turkish delight!
Life's good. Not to imply that this past week, during which I was none of those things, wasn't good.
This is just a nice way to spend Saturday.

From the looks of it, my LJ compatriots don't seem very interested in telling stories, more interested in using this beloved service for its other, more common function.
So, I feel as though it's up to me to pick up the mantle and make with the narrative.
You didn't really think I was gonna let you get away with the only Speddie reference, didja?

Going in, I wasn't really sure what to expect. Some people might be surprised to hear that I've always enjoyed camping. Despite the lack of comfy sleeping, good hygiene, the 'net and restaurants, I've gotten the opportunity to go grub it up in the woods plenty of times over the years and I almost always enjoy the change of scenery, the peace and quiet, the privacy....
But that doesn't really apply when you're camping with 100+ other people, many of which you make effort to avoid 5 days a week. So, didn't know what to expect.

Turned out, though, that it was peachy. When I wanted solitude I could find it, but I didn't need to as often as I expected. Living together with people, even in an area as large as the campsite, tends to bring about a completely different attitude than when you're just going to school with them and you know that you've just got a few hours before you're on your seperate ways.
I wonder if this experience will carry over and lead to me approaching people differently at school, though. It might, but eh...even if I was happy to share space with you there, I wouldn't be surprised if you catch me cringing and hoofing it in the opposite direction come Monday.

That's for the masses, though. On the other hand, there's the individual personalities closer to me. It's only as this school year draws to a close that I really feel like I'm starting to get to know the people in my chosen circle beyond the personas that they present to the world at large.
This week definitely made that clear, and even if knowing some of you better has not made me happy about my choices, others have really proven themselves to me. And I'm glad for both.

I just now realized how I've hijacked this post with my reflections and haven't gotten anywhere near my original intentions at all. So I think I'm going to post this up and then come back with a Pt. 2 containing the juicy stuff you expected from my introduction, rather than making this go on forever.
But in closing of this one, I'm going to take a page from Maia's book in dedication to....Maia!

"I hate everyone equally
You can't tear that out of me
No segregation- separation
Just me in my world of enemies"

Wed, 07 May 2003 22:05:04 GMT

"Anybody wanna make out with me?"