i had motherfuckers tossing red paint on my ass all the damn time.

pissed me off.

then there were the jokers with the creme pies and the hippies with the spray paint and the fuckers with water balloons, and the ingrates with the silly string.

but all that shit stopped the first time that i kicked one of those cocksuckers in the nads with my doc martins.

“you have blood on your hands!” they shrieked.

and i said, “no it isnt you smelly fuck, it’s paint!” and i slapped them with the back of my hand and they crumpled like a burning spider.

pathetic. weasly. laying there on the marble floor hands protecting their face like i was going to actually kick them there.

cover your nuts man! i would tell them. your face? who are you kidding?

then blam blam blam right in the family jewels and then they sure squirmed.

one reason nobody is into this war is cuz everyone involved are a bunch of fucking assholes.

only guy worth his salt is tony blair but because he’s sucking dubya’s cock so hard it’s hard to get behind him. and why is britian so up in arms anyway? gas over there has been over $4/gallon since forever. $4 or $4.50 is pretty much the same thing. especially when we’re complaining when it gets to a whopping $2.19.

currently there are two sorts of leaders: the incredibly lame wimpy stupid ones like the ruler of the free world, and the agressively tyrannical rapist murderer ones like the Tribune Corp., oops, i mean, like sadaam.

and theres very little in the middle.

wasnt Bill Clinton in the middle? why yes, he was. and he was perfect. and we had eight years of peace and prosperity. only troubles this country had during that time was within the beltway and under the hemline. the way it oughtta be.

meanwhile i was in denmark in the parking garages where the protesters would sometimes meet me. regularilly foiling them in their attempt to let the air out of my tires, i would chase after a few of them and then play a little game called punch the pm in the gut, fucker.

i would lift my shirt and i’d say hit me you spoiled little babies but then i get to hit you back.

and they’d punch me and i would wince and then i would roll up my sleeve and every single time it would only take one punch and they were flat on their asses with their piercings jingling and their drealocks flailing and their birkenstocks flying off.

i’d pick them up off the ground and i would shake their hands and say next time you fucking smartasses want to get my attention email me, write me, or lift up your shirts during a press conference. but this paint on my fucking brooks brothers is totally not cool. cant you see how well this shit fits!

and then theyd stutter some fucking art school bullshit and look at the ground and maybe puke from the punch and i’d say write it in an email and send it to me and i will think about it and write you back with probably like 50 reasons why you’re wrong about this, your stupid tattoos and probably everything in your record collection.

kmfdm? you’ve Got to be kidding me.

and then theyd run home and tell all their friends.

i slept until two today and i feel like a total god.

alabama whoorley

my eyes mist up, but that’s all you’ll get.

last week quite a few people were testing the boundaries of this phenomena, but i suppose that’s the nature of the month of pisces, so it’s futile to take it personally.

tonight the academy girls came over early just in case i was going to go out drinking. they had the hours. they wanted to make sure that i was going to watch it.

one of the girls even said that she would hold my hand during it and i tried it for about ten minutes but it was too uncomfortable.

some girls i can hold hands with, some i cant.

theres a girl who im really close with but we cant hold hands.

theres another girl who im not close with any more at all, and her hand fits perfect in mine.

none of it makes any sense.

i watched the hours and thought of all the women ive ever known. i even thought about this super hot chick in high school who i never knew liked me that way. she had a boyfriend who i set her up with, still we went to the movies the day high school ended. we went cuz she knew i was moving to california forever.

after the movie she gave me a freedom kiss.

but she did it half assed. she barely opened her mouth. she barely let her tongue over to my side of the world. the thought counted. i had no idea why she asked me out in the first place. i had no idea why we went to the movies. and after she kissed me it all made sense and i bounced around my house like a spaz and my mom thought i was on drugs.

here we are about 80 years later and some girls can make me bounce around my house like a spaz and i thought about those magical girls as i stroked the fingers of the academy girl and tried to pay attention to the film, but philip glass has always mesmerized me and the music he made for the hours is now instantly my favorite of his. i think it’s cuz he’s using a little more piano than normal. it really fills out the sound.

the familiar counterpoint of the cellos are there and the trademark runs going up and down the scales followed by the staccato quarter notes, but the piano as opposed to the synthesizer nearly made me cry it was so pretty and unexpected.

went to outback steak house this weekend with a girl who can cry and then laugh and then cry again out of no where. she thinks that equals crazy. but shes crazy to think that. shes wonderful and right with you which is why her emotions are there too, even in a benz convertible, even in burbank, even with me driving.

even though its a stick i still grab her hand whenever i can and bring it with me when i change gears. we haven’t been naked in months but she still lets me rest my hand on her thigh and we’ll hold hands longer than we planned but not in a lovey dovey way, more like a you complete me mini me way. the funny part of it. not the sad caramel nougat truth center.

she does complete me.

but be careful cuz dirt completes us when we die, and worms do too, so watch it.

i smile and sing while she drives.

it would have been nice to say any of this to the academy girl. after all, she had written me, her name is very memorable, but i didn’t tell her that i knew who she was, i just traced the outline of her skinny lil digits bejeweled and bangled and her friend went home. she asked me if i was liking the film and i said yes. a lot. but i told her that i was falling asleep.

she asked if i wanted to pause it or stop it or

i said, lets just go to sleep and finish it in the morning.

she pulled a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear and blushed, the latest victim of the assumptive close.

i told her that i had a pair of clean flannel pajamas in the second drawer, then i remembered the huge box of condoms in the third drawer and got up and retrieved the pjs myself. people get the wrong idea.

she looked sleepy and hopeful and i told her that i would be writing for a few hours, that she shouldn’t wait up for me.

and out came the lower lip, exaggeratingly.

cute.

she dragged her feet into the bathroom, water was turned on, i thought about breaking open one of my many ninety nine cent store guest toothbrushes for her, but she’s a college girl, she should pack a toothbrush.

sat down to the computer and turned on howard stern live from new york.

simultaneously the christmas lights clicked off due to the light timer behind the tv, which meant it was three am.

the perfect hour for anything.

and i sat in the dark watching the rock n roll hall of fame induction and the clash nearly did it and elvis costello nearly did it, and ac/dc was super close to doing it.

but when the police came out and i heard stewart copeland play exactly like how he did in nineteen eighty three, so subtilely on the high hat

i teared up cuz it was so perfect

and yet absolutely over.

42. Robin J.

blue bukkake + an okie in paris + luke ford

one time i woke up at noon with an irish girl named shana.

happy st. paddys day, shana.

went to golden gate park on sunday afternoon with her sexy friend and we drank and danced in the sun.

her friend was also a beautiful irish girl on a work visa there in san francisco.

frisco was full of em at the time.

hopefully it’s still like that.

best part about the irish is that if you invited a few of them, dozens more would come singing through the doors just as the bars were closing with jugs of wine, boxes of cheap beer in cans, and guitars.

all of the men knew every song, and all of the women were beautiful.

one night two of the prettiest ones kissed me at the same time.

so sitting there drunk in the sun on an unseasonably warm summer day in san francisco watching the two girls dance in the middle of a drum circle, i decided to rest my eyes and listen to the groovy beats.

i woke up and the girls were sharing a chocolate chip cookie and offered me some. who doesnt like chocolate chip cookies?

we hopped on the 71 Haight and rode home and were naked within an hour.

in the morning i remembered very little of that night.

and because im a little too honest in my real life life, i told the young lady.

i dont remember anything of last night.

i kissed her on the neck and said, nope, dont remember any a that.

kissed her pale stomach and said, yep, dont remember any of that either.

she laughed and rolled over me

her straight red hair fell perfectly around her face like rain, suspended during sunset

and i did remember that

then we did some other stuff that i didnt remember

then we did some stuff that theres no way i should have forgotten,

but i did forget.

then we had grits at a breakfast place in the rain on a monday afternoon

she dropped me off, gave me a great kiss, told me she’d call me before dinner

and i never saw her again.

oish

i read that you’re going on vacation.

where did you read that?

he tapped the computer in front of him. i didnt ask if he meant that he read it from my blog or if he read it from hacking into the xbi email system. nothing these days suprises me, especially at that crazy place.

you should write as much as you possibly can on your vacation.

but i was thinking about writing just as much, but more carefully, better, cleaner, straighter…

quanity. you always have quality.

but i wanted to do big picture web site pages.

focus on the blog.

what about a new photo essay?

maybe do one, but write and write and write. let people out there know what you would be capable of if you werent just writing this during your government mandated fifteen minute breaks.

people, what people?

the people who might want to hire you to do this for them.

how do you know people are interested in me writing for them?

he tapped his computer again.

a lot of the security guys are older agents who have retired but want to keep an eye on the action and give advice to some of the younger guys. at 109 i wouldnt consider myself one of the younger guys, but i look a lot younger than i am. im not sure if that always works in my favor.

you’re not going to be here long, agent. you need to write. let it out. you’re a good man, and i know you work hard. i know your results are better than some people give you credit for, but it’s ok. the purpose of the excercise is to do the excercise and you are doing the excercise 100% and i know youre taking risks and i know youre playing to win. keep playing to win.

what other way is there to play?

some people play not-to-lose. they try to play it safe. kick ass. floor it. aim for the big time. dont be distracted by those with no courage or trust. theyre not playing at your level and your level is the xbi level and thats where you need to be and i get it that youre there. now write like youre there. produce, motherfucker. produce.

i was hot in my ski cap and sweat shirt and backpack and still i stayed there to see if he had any more advice for me but he didnt.

we talked about the lakers for a little while and then i remembered that the trains dont run as often after 7pm and i left the office feeling free for the first time in a very long time.

vacation awaited me.

my clean house awaited me.

clipper girl awaited me, as did two interviews on monday with companies i didnt want to work for, but they had work for me that i knew i could do.

super hot chick from work told me that she had just discovered my page and was excited to read all about me and i told her that nothing on here was true and she laughed like i was bsing her.

id never bs her.

got home and my place was so clean. i had left a nice tip for my maid that morning And a box of girl scout cookies. in return my house smelled like oranges, the towels in my bathroom were folded on the rail, my bed had been made for me, and she even put the dishes in the cupboard.

i felt clean, my place was clean, i wanted to rip off my own clothes and just lay nude on my leather couch, but the doorbell rang. it was clipper girl. she had a small bottle of 151in a paper bag, tight pants, heavy mascara, bow in her hair, and what was that? two straws.

i was passed out by midnight.

she let herself out sometime in the night.

in the morning i woke up with the most beautiful sound: rain pouring down pouring down, and when i shut off the alarm i realised that i wouldnt have to worry about that stupid clock for 9 more days.

and that whole time i’ll play.

41. Brian ($15)

if you ask me. and i can sorta understand because ive written sad things and ive written happy things and by far the easiest of the two are the sad things.

the elizabeth smart story is one of the happiest stories that ive ever heard and it still hasnt sunk in.

everyone thought she was dead in the woods somewhere.

everyone.

me too, and i am one of the most positive-thinking people ever created.

i love the elizabeth smart story.

here in the month of pisces where theres some very serious evil and some insane love, i am so thrilled that there is this story to balance out all the crap of the inevitable war.

if you ask me it’s a miracle.

and i love the fact that the smarts were a lot like the Flanders’s, having family prayer time before the kids went to sleep, how the girls played harp together, how the missing posters said for us to pray for elizabeth. it’s nearly ridiculous how sticky sweet these people are.

which, to me, makes it that much better, because it shows you that good things can happen to good people.

tonight when all of you kneel down for your family prayer time, i hope you remember to thank the good Lord for letting elizabeth come back safe and sound to her family. maybe she isnt coming back as soundly as we’d like, but she is back, and she appears to be ok, and even though everything isnt now good in the world, at least in one little part of america things are a thousand per cent better.

i hope your friday is a good one, readers of these pixels.

i’m going to do everything i can to make it good for me. and then at six pm my vacation starts.

so lets rock.

metafilter is always good, but especially so on fridays.

i know!
tony:

ahahahahah!
alecia: it took me hours, lol, and it’s so short!
tony:

it takes forever doesnt it!
alecia: seriously, i was suprised
tony:

i guess if it was easy, more people would do it
alecia: heh, truedat.
tony:

anyways
tony: i love it
tony: and it makes me happy
alecia:

aww, thanks man!! 🙂
tony: are you really going to meet up with

kristin in london?
alecia: i don’t know, i’m not sure how her and dc thought

they were gonna get ahold of eachother, that’d be cool though!

tony: name
alecia:

alecia
tony: nickname
alecia: my manager calls me sister

sledgehammer, that’s about it
tony: astrological sign
alecia:

taurus
tony: location
alecia: phoenix, az (unfortunately)
tony:

where would you like to be?
alecia: california!
tony: its

a big state, where
alecia: probably san diego or santa barbara
tony:

why arent you going there for college?
alecia: because i got a full ride

+ $1500 a year to ASU, and i couldn’t turn it down. i should have though. i might

transfer after a couple years.
tony: what will be your major?
alecia:

computer science with a minor in business…i think.
tony: what

does your s/n mean?
alecia: well nymphalid means a class of butterflies…i

found it in the dictionary. but everyone thinks it means sex addict, and i normally

don’t refute that accusation. 🙂
tony: are you a virgin?
alecia:

no
tony: where are you

going tomorrow?
alecia: london!!
alecia: (london, baby, yeah)
tony:

have you ever been there before?
alecia: nope! i’ve never been out of the

country actually.. eek
tony: who are you going with?
alecia:

the theatre sponsor at our school put it together, so i’m going with a bunch of

drama kids, even though i’m not really a drama kid anymore. dc is going though!
tony: do all the boys like you?
tony: i havent

seen anyone write any bad things about you
alecia: no, all the boys don’t

like me. people don’t dislike me though i guess
tony: who is your

boyfriend right now?
alecia: i don’t have a boyfriend
tony:

why not?
alecia: because i’m crazy/scared
alecia: i usually run

from boys.
tony: sorry the pizza man is here
tony:

brb
alecia: lol, okay!
tony: omg this is the best pizza
alecia:

what kind?
tony: chicken pepperoin and sausage
tony:

pizza hut
alecia: (i don’t like pizza) but sounds good for pizza!
tony:

how on earth cant you like pizza?
alecia: that’s what everybody says! i

don’t know, i’ve never been a big fan.
tony: do you like melted

cheese?
alecia: i used to hate all cheese…but then i started working

at a fondue restaurant and it grew on me. so now i like cheese fondue, but pizza

is yet to grow on me..we shall see.
tony: you hated cheese so you

worked at a fondue restaurant?
alecia: well there is more to fondue than

just cheese!
tony: fire?
alecia: hehe, no, there are four

courses at our restaurant. that’s just the first one.
tony: soup,

fondue, desert
tony: what would be the fourth?
alecia: cheese

fondue, salad, entree, dessert
alecia: booyah
alecia: 🙂
tony:

salads not a course
alecia: kinda
tony: it shouldnt be, at

least
tony: i guess
alecia: well if soup is!
tony:

was it good salad?
alecia: yes, it’s really good
alecia: i can buy

them for $1
alecia: so i do, quite often.
tony: how much

was an entire four course meal?
alecia: it’s usually about $40-$50 per

person.
tony: holy shit
alecia: it’s really overpriced.
tony:

how many boys have you kissed?
alecia: i wouldn’t know this off the top

of my head (i promise) but my friends and i got bored in class the other day and

added up, mine was 17.
tony: who was the last boy you kissed?
alecia:

brian (no creativity)
tony: what was the occasion?
alecia:

um, we were drunk and i have a crush on him, so why not ?!
tony:

was that the first time you kissed him?
alecia: yeah
tony:

was it nice?
alecia: hehe….yeah….he’s a really good kisser. i was a

big fan of the tounge ring. 🙂
tony: was that the first time you

kissed a guy with a tounge ring?
alecia: umm, yes. with a tounge ring yes.
tony:

are you really going to get one yourself soon?
alecia: yes! my birthday

is may 1…so soon after that i hope. as long as i don’t chicken out!
tony:

do you have any tattoos or piercings?
alecia: no tattoos, but i have my

ears a few times and my belly button. i’m thinking about a tattoo..but i’m undecided.
tony:

what religion are you?
alecia: i’m leaning towards atheist
alecia:

but i really don’t know enough about it
alecia: so i guess undecided
tony:

are your parents still together?
alecia: yeah, they’re really happy 🙂
tony:

do they drink a lot?
alecia: not really, but i have seen both of them drunk

a few times. it’s funny stuff.
tony: do you only have one brother?
alecia:

yeah, it’s just the two of us.
tony: were your parents strict?
alecia:

they’re strict about things like school, but they’ve always been pretty trusting/leniant

about most other stuff.
tony: do they know you get high?
alecia:

yeah, the time a couple weeks ago me and trevor did they could totally tell he

was stoned. so i just told them that i was too and they just laughed at me. i

guess i was good at covering it up though, which is nice to know..
tony:

whats your favorite movie?
alecia: oh my.. probably good will hunting,

but i’m a sucker for kevin smith movies too.
tony: how long have

you had your blog?
alecia: i’ve had it since november
tony:

have you liked doing it?
alecia: yeah, i really like it! i had an open

diary before, but i never wrote in it…blogs are much more carefree
alecia:

i think i like reading other peoples more though.
tony: i had a

secret diary on open diary
tony: two actually
alecia: me

too 🙂
tony: ahahahaha
alecia: why was yours a secret?
tony:

it was my real life
alecia: oh i see..
alecia: my blog is my real

life…except i think it has more of an emphasis on drinking than i really do.
tony:

how are you able to get booze?
alecia: the people i normally drink with

are over 21. or if it’s for my "my-age" friends, we’ll just have one

of them buy it.
tony: what do you like to drink?
alecia:

vodka and cranberry juice is my favorite, followed by a kamikazee
tony: have a great time in london!
alecia:

thanks!

this means whore

some days all the angels and saints take a smoke break and stop watching your back and you never really notice that theyre theyre until theyre not there. sorta like clean water.

im not a victim and im not fishing for compliments, im just typing the truth about things.

sometimes i do type about the truth.

somebody told me to my face today that i was lying to him.

most fucked up thing was not only was i being truthful, but i was being truthful in a way that wasnt making me look very good. i was admitting blame. i was explaining that i wasnt perfect and what i had done wasnt totally awesome, but it also wasnt as totally horrible as it was being painted out to be.

and what we’re talking about isnt like the crash of the space shuttle or the little girl who got the wrong blood during her operation, but it sure felt that bad to this person and eventually it felt that bad to me.

and this is one reason why certain men repress their emotions. and it’s also one reason why some men lash out.

this man represses and then when theres a government mandated fifteen minute break types and writes about a better time.

a time where little boys rode bikes in the middle of the street past little boys selling lemonade at their doorstep as the wind blew around dandilion thingies and the sun shined bright all day.

no clouds ever, unless you wanted something to look at.

a time where kite flying was a whole project of actually making the kite out of dowel rods, string and wrapping paper and glue.

a time before any of you.

but it woulda been nice if you’d been there.

and man would it be nice if you were here now.

cuz now is killing me.

on a lighter note, this guy steals from me. i find it funny.

audioblogging from iraq!

but the chinese officials wont let them play “Brown Sugar,” “Honky Tonk Woman,” “Beast of Burden,” or “Let’s Spend the Night Together.’

there was a time where i would listen to beast of burden every day for maybe a year.

aint i rich enough?

aint i tough enough?

if i get to go to heaven i want to work for the newspaper up there and i want to ask these chinese officials what they really think will happen if the kids in china hear brown sugar? and because it’s heaven none of the bs mumbo jumbo will be allowed to come out of their mouths, just the truth, from their hearts.

“we’re afraid everyone will want to have sex,” im guessing they’ll say.

but doesnt everyone want to have sex anyway? i’ll ask.

“ever hear chinese music?” they’ll say back and i’ll clink my shot of rum with his shot of jd and we’ll drink and i’ll file my story.

stories are shorter in Heaven, im thinking. super short. super good and super short. lots of awesome, short, exclusive interviews with famous people and people who should have been famous.

i bet in heaven they play a lot of stones’ songs.

thats a question that i would like to ask these chinese officials, do you think they play Beast of Burden in heaven?

i have no problem with China. i just want to figure out their deal.

banning particular songs in the year 2003 sung by 60 year old men?

obviously they have never heard the lyrics of “start me up.”

moxie

please discuss