::
2005 3 March :: 2.42 am
Yama's, Llamas, could somebody oil the macaroni gears in my noodle?...
Holy Fuck, Mr. J! Is that you. You decomposed, digitally bearded, open shirt bastard.
Let me pull the thumb out my ass and tell you a taley waley.
It's starts on...whoa, somewhere in July. C'est possible?
click, pop, rewind.
I'd just broken up with Jess, and gotten thrown on my ass. Fucking great. >>Restart<< Now I'm living in Cedar. Things are fucked up as always. Always will be. A bunch of big fucking delusional circles. Nothing ever good. Right? Got another job at the same franchise. Different owner, different policy, different people. I'd forgotten what it's like to live in a majorly white community. Pssh. j/k.
Eh, let's see. I was a wreck. I had these big purple circles around my eyes. It was terrible.
Fast forward>>Ms. K.
A few days after being thrown out. I had the reassuring visitation of an old friend and spark. And though we only spent, like, a day together. I thought things were going quite well. But, difficulties will be difficulties and I'm an asshole.
Thus, not only was I in shitty shape. The 'ol stars orbited my head. Because I'm an asshole.
Fast forward>>
I was thrown out by mom. It was all about stupid shit. Really fucked me up again. Blah. blah. Spent the night on US 131. A rest stop between the rockford and cedar exits. I stayed up the whole night writing stories and shit. It sucked.
Fast forward>>
Nothing much happens. I spend about three hundred dollars a month replacing parts on my Oldsmobile P.O.S.. It's kinda funny. Old people have left, new people have come. Ms. K's seeing Mr. R. I don't know how to feel about that. Everyone's so mixed about my collection of friends. Scenario time...not today. Heh.
Fast forward>>
Ms. M, Ms. C, and Ms.T, and all been very patient with my ass. Thank ya' ma' bitches! I'm the "dude". And I've been skimping out on my "dude" duties. Which is sad, because these are the people that someday, and even right now, I'll be jealous of. Sigh.
Twenty years...still no GED. Just an explicit case of madness. It's quite splendid. mwah ha ha ha!
Any who, Mr. J. The night is old, the day is gone, pull those covers over your silicon body, and don't forget to wear underpants. Yak!,
Dustin
4 Shots |
Point and Shoot |
::
2004 8 June :: 2.05 am
Synonyms for procreation?...
Sigh...
Her...
4 Shots |
Point and Shoot |
::
2004 5 June :: 3.18 pm
I smiled, and little pieces of me walked this way and that, passing right under my nose...
Work time.
Smoke time.
Is it really, seriously, unattractive/denerving to find a guy who smokes. I feel like a convicted felon from the middle eastern 17th century. Everytime I light up. It's like, jeez, at least I'm not a cardinal of the Vatican, fucking bending little naked boys over. So I could snort crack off their asses. Are you going to chop one of my lungs off with your scimitar, huh, fuck brick! sigh...
I have to go to work pretty soon. "She'll" be there. I shake like I have palsy every time I see her. I can't help it. I loved her... But, I don't get it. How do I make people hate me so much. And, I'm not being a rere about this whole situation. It's like, every friend I've had I've driven away by some means. It's weird. And really deturring.
New Friend: "Hey, I like your hair."
Me: dancing around like a maroon (the white boy or something) "Thanks, what's up?"
New Friend: disqusted "Holy shit dude, not a DAMN thing."
Whoa, is ME?
See ya, J-unit...yoi yoi...cough*
1 Shot |
Point and Shoot |
::
2004 4 June :: 1.32 am
I loaded my shotgun with eminems, and proliferated his ass with chocolaty goodness...
Um, dearest and...deepest?, Mr. J.
My love life is a like a Offspring song. Go ahead listen to one. Yep, that's right. Pretty fucked up in a shrieked, grab your balls octave kind of way.
I don't understand girls. I don't think they understand themselves. It's like, bigotry aside, over there in a shady corner, off, off you go, girls act like they know everything about another.
Now, that may be a opinionated, biased statement. It's true though. They walk into shit like they're the calrone. That's fuckin' right, I said it, Calrone!
But, the unoffended, I assure you. Guys are no better.
Eh, whatever, fuck you, fuck me, apethy.
*Insert another interjection
It's kinda funny. I've been thinking this shit for three weeks and I finally decided to bitch about it. And what do I get, a incoherent, hardly close piece of bowel release.
I've only kept a handful of contacts since I've been out of school. And now they're fading on me. I guess that's just one of the cards in the Milton Bradley game. And I know I'm really touchy, feely with the past. But, fuck, who am I going to have left?
Just a pen, pencil, and a scrap of paper.
"She's" gone. Mandy's lost interest. Ryan's moving to New Orleans. Corina was never close to me. Tara, either, besides the fact that we have some kind of awkward tension between us.
Work sucks, getting bitchy and itchy. If you don't know what I mean by that. Go see for yourself. Bitchy and itchy.
Geh, oh well...
Time to go shoot me some sheep-age. Nighty,
Dustin
1 Shot |
Point and Shoot |
::
2004 28 March :: 5.38 pm
:: Music: Incubus - Southern Girl
The sonic material brain manifestations of those of the numb, come...
Yo' yo' check it, check it. Let me break it down to you.
I set a date
lost a mate
gained a new found
sense of hate
The worl' is stuck
in the 18th century
I lost
another thing dear to me
Now, I can't bust the beats
I can't rap, I can't rhyme
Why the fuck am I wastin'
my fuckin' time.
My job, yeah, she's a
bitch
All the people do is
snitch
Nag, and rag,
what a fuckin drag!
Cough*
I miss Jessica
I miss not doing anything in art class
I miss talking about sex in Anatomy
I miss the ability to have passion towards drawing and writing
Point and Shoot |
::
2004 1 March :: 1.55 am
Grounds for ejection of the soul...
Oh god...Oh god...
1 Shot |
Point and Shoot |
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2004 25 February :: 1.29 am
The sense of not making sense, is really making sense of non-sense?...
Oh, dearest, dearest Mr. J,
I'm such a child. She was right. But, she says that in admitting this. I'm just being what I just stated. Or something like that.
Anyway, I wasn't sure if I hated her, or if I just hated myself. And the bitch, the fucking bitch is that I just hate myself and I'm putting it on her. It's true. Without her even saying anything, I've known this. Paranoia pad-ner.
We talked, and as the charming expression goes, "Whipped". Ker chak! I am, and I like it. I like having someone so understanding, and yet, so stern. It's nice. I feel loved. Does that make sense?
Anyway, Thank you, Jessica. And Mandy, and Andy, and Oh, I don't know...Santa Claus. J/K.
I, um, feel better. ;)
I feel better because I can admit that I don't hate someone I love so much. Progession, man!
Anyway, quit the smokin' game for a while. Let's see how things go. Heh.
Adios, penche puto,
D-bag
1 Shot |
Point and Shoot |
::
2004 18 February :: 1.04 am
I thought the world was round...
For Valentines, I got her a box of Dots/Hersey Kisses/M&M's...
I'm such a fucking retard. I had all these elaborate schemes with confetti made from a crudely materialized form of love. I choked. So, she got candy. bleh.
2 Shots |
Point and Shoot |
::
2004 10 February :: 6.13 pm
:: Music: Nine Inch Nails - La Mer
Paper towel treasures...
La Mer
Et quand le jour arrive.
Je deviendrai le ciel.
Et je deviendrai la mer.
Et la mer viendra pour m'embrasser.
Moi vais chercher.
À la maison.
Rien ne peut m'arrêter maintenant.
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 6 November :: 9.14 pm
:: Music: U2 - In God's Country
Mom got sick and died, Dad got sick and died, Sister got sick and died, Pastor got sick and died, I got sick and became alive...
Dearest of dear Mr. J,
One of the customers comes in about once every two weeks. Everytime he grabs his tray to sit down, he slides a little piece of paper across the counter. One time it was just a small pieace about the size and density of a business card, another was sort of a brochure. They both blantantly speak of Jesus and god stating very simplistic facts. Neither of them say come join us at (insert religious: convention, meeting, joining, gathering).
I have a specific take on religion.
Anyway, I keep them. Not because of the religious content. But, just the fact that it strikes me as a selfless, flattering act of humanity.
If you were a cashier at a fast food franchise, you'd understand. It goes beyond that, though.
I'm sure that's what he's trying to impose on me. I'm a sucker.
Anywho,
workin lots. smoking lots. wish I wasn't smoking lots. Canada sucks.
Oh, and:
Hey, November, how the hell've you been!
Thank ya,
D-bag/
1 Shot |
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 26 October :: 10.23 pm
Chuky cheese is a pseudo-subtle-enforcer of building a habit of gambling, Don't believe me, ask them...
Things to talk about when I get the time:
- Drinking
- Canada
- Today's title
- The ratio of illiterates with the letter D as their first initial
- Girl's at work
- Girl's not at work
- Guys...that are my friends
- Incompetent franchises that are blue balling themselves over their own fear of being a outstanding liability. <--- They're already a liability just existing.
- People I haven't called in...months, years, lifetimes
- People I wish I could call in those aforementioned periods
- and I'll top it off with a list of movies I like
Someday...right?
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 21 October :: 3.42 pm
I lost my appetite, but gained my self awareness...
Happy fucking belated birthday to all you on the 19th.
Including:
- My dad
- My brother Mitchell
- John Lithgow
- and that shit brick named Dustin.
So, considering the roster of individuals who share the same birthday, as me, my dad, and my brother. I've decided that none of us people will have significant birthday's until at least two of us, die. I'll be damned if it'll be me. Thus, I'm going to invert the whole tradition and kill those two next year. Or, maybe I'll just change my registered information. I'm just rambling. Blahity, blahity, blah.
...
...
I just zinged myself.
1 Shot |
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 9 October :: 6.36 pm
I live in the sea, with a talking used brillo pad, who smokes like a chimney...
You are Snow White!
What Disney Princess are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
I heard my sister coming down the stairs. So I jumped under the desk and started picking up my nose. Then I found a piece of paper sitting by my elbow, so I threw it away. She never came in the basement. So I got back up and started typing this.
I got a birthday card from my grandma. She moved somewhere south. She said she wants to "give" me her van. It hasn't worked in the last three years. How generous and humane of her. EH! EH! EH!
Fuck the police!
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 3 October :: 10.37 pm
Rape the fuck out of internal despair, and then call yourself original...
I remember that I sunk into a depression that almost killed me. It was my sophomore year. I liked it. I slept a lot, and I felt healthy.
I blamed it on drugs. I blamed everything on drugs.
I don't think it was the drugs.
It was very uncanny.
D-M.J;
Visited mom. sigh.
Mom
Nicholas
Nathan
Dave
Missy
- I wish you guys the best. It hurts to think about you.
<3 <---- <(-_-)>
/End/
4 Shots |
Point and Shoot |
::
2003 24 September :: 2.20 pm
Take me to...Ireland...
Dearest Mr. J,
Two jobs now! What could be in store for our imfamous Dustin. Could his life get complicated? Has working ever been fun in the history of man kind or form?
Tune in tomorrow, same fucking time, blah, blah.
Fucking Wendy's.
Oh, hey, I have an apple tree growing in my room. He says "Hi" to the cedars in Colorado.
Bleh. I'd like to reinstate my whole life into a single piece of dialogue. I decided that's gay though. A piece of time just flew past my head, and I just put up a crystal clear window. Woops.
Anyway, you should be getting to work.
My deepest condolenses,
Dustin
1 Shot |
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