::
2004 14 December :: 5.51 pm
:: Music: Alexisonfire - Happiness By The Kilowatt
A Brief History of a Modern Day Crute
10th grade: History - Alex Camp
Alex: "Hey Joe, wanna write my essay for me?"
Joe: "Hell no!"
Alex: "I'll pay you $200"
Joe: "Alright!"
Alex: "Ummm.. how about $100?"
Joe: "Yeah sure"
*Joe waits until Alex pays him the money before getting started, which leaves him two days, busts it out, gets Alex a B"
*Mr. Skinner's notes on essay* "This looks plagiarized"
*Joe's thoughts* Mr. Skinner suspected it was plagiarized because Alex never did any good work in that class and all of a sudden he does a good paper, tisk tisk
12th grade: English - Kyle Lawler
Kyle: *frantic* "Joe! I really need your help! I'm close to failing my classes and I need this class especially in order to graduate. Will you write my essay? I'll pay you."
Joe: "Yeah, no problem man. But keep the money."
Joe watches Kyle walk down the aisle and get his diploma, a single tear falls (Not really but wouldn't that've been cute?)
Wednesday December 10th, 2004: Philosophy - Kyle Lawler
Kyle: "Hey man, I really need your help. I have tons of shit to do for finals and I need to do a damn essay for philosophy. It has to be 5-8 pages and its due on Monday. Will you do it for me please? I'll pay you"
Joe: "Sure thing, but you don't need to pay"
Joe: *spends all weekend writing paper*
-The difference between the past two incidents and this one is I was actually in those classes so I knew the material and I had done the assignment myself, so I knew what was up, I just needed to switch it up a bit. But I've never taken a philosophy class before nor had I ever heard of existentialism or Friedrich Nietzsche. So this was the hardest essay I had ever written. But I did it out of kindness and friendship and because I love to write. If I can do this for Kyle, imagine the possibilities for the rest of you. Ask and you shall receive. I mean it, I'm here for all of you, or there, whatever the case may be. You all mean something to me, the degrees may vary depending on how well I know you, but still, I care about you.
6 Chops |
To The Throat |
::
2004 10 December :: 5.45 pm
You Are a Prophet Soul |
You are a gentle soul, with good intentions toward everyone.
Selfless and kind, you have great faith in people.
Sometimes this faith can lead to disappoinment in the long run.
No matter what, you deal with everything in a calm and balanced way.
You are a good interpreter, very sensitive, intuitive, caring, and gentle.
Concerned about the world, you are good at predicting people's feelings.
A seeker of wisdom, you are a life long learner looking for purpose and meaning.
You are a great thinker and communicator, but not necessarily a doer.
Souls you are most compatible with: Bright Star Soul and Dreaming Soul |
2 Chops |
To The Throat |
::
2004 10 December :: 5.27 pm
:: Music: Sparta - Air
DUH
You're the Rock Star!
Take What sort of Hipster are you? today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Personality Test Generator. Fuck college, fuck a "real" job! Music is your life! You're a hometown hero! You're in at least two local bands and are thinking of forming a third. You sleep on your friend's couch, eat your friend's food, and borrow your friend's car. You frequent the dark city bars and hang with the other rockers and groupies. You wear dirty jeans, well-worn t-shirts, and your hair is a mess. You're sinister and mysterious and look as if you don't give a shit. You worship the Rolling Stones, MC5, and your older brother's band. You're gonna make it big one of these days, you can just feel it.
1 Chop |
To The Throat |
::
2004 9 December :: 10.10 pm
The Sponge
The sponge soaks in every mess around it. It just gets more and more full, taking in all kinds of burdens. It can't get rid of any of its burdens, because as soon as it tries to push some of it out, it just falls back into a different pore, rejoining the other burdens. The only release for the sponge is to do a full wring of itself, draining itself. I am the sponge.
I hate being the nice guy. Every favor, despite the adversity to my own well being, I accept. I am not free of worry and stress, I have my own, yet I willingly allow others to throw theirs onto me as well. And even when they're not throwing their burdens, I take it upon myself to grab those burdens and heave them onto my back along with the rest. Everyone else's are on there, why not add yours? Why can't I just say no? Why are people compelled to walk on me because I'm nice? Its because they know I won't protest. I won't confront them. I just sit back, hold my tongue and twiddle my thumbs, pretending that everything is alright. Well, y'know what? Everything is not all right. You're killing me. Each footfall that drives me deeper into the earth, each burden that weakens my back, eventually it'll kill me. But I will never tell you this, I will never show this on my face. No, instead I'll put on a façade. A bright mask with a big smile on it, letting you know I'm happy and I'm here for you. Because I am. I am here for you. I am here for everyone. I am not here for myself. No, that'd be selfish. Shame on you, never put yourself before others. This makes you happy but it doesn't make them happy? Well fuck that, that can't be, you mustn't be happy at the cost of others! Now lie on the ground so I can use you to wipe the shit off my shoes. That's all you're good for anyway isn't it? You're not beautiful. You're not talented. You're not worth it. Be proud I chose you as my curb. Why are you so surprised? This is how you've lived your life for the past two decades, nothing is different. You're used to it. You accept it. I accept it....... I accept it.
Here's the part where I critisize this whole online journal nonsense. I've lain dormant because I view this journal as not a place to express how I feel about things but rather as a stage to entertain. I look for laughs, or "awwws" or reminiscence. I need an outlet, but its hard when I feel as if everyone is staring at me all at once. I need one on one time to expose, but this opens the doors to countless others. I go through this in my head daily, but clearly its not enough if its a daily occurrence. I needed to put this down, tear it off my chest. But please, as a favor I'm asking of you, don't ask me about this the next time we talk.
1 Chop |
To The Throat |
::
2004 2 December :: 6.01 pm
:: Music: Deftones - Lucky You
Phone Conversation between Laurence and Joe:
"Blah, blah, yap, yap, shootin' the shit"
Joe: *SNEEZE!*
Laurence: *stops*".....did you just sneeze?"
Joe: "uh.. yeah"
Laurence: "Woo! We've reached a mile stone! I've actually heard you sneeze!"
2 Chops |
To The Throat |
::
2004 14 November :: 11.18 am
I want a girl that I can sing HIM songs to
7 Chops |
To The Throat |
::
2004 12 November :: 5.37 pm
I find Teri Hatcher to be quite delectable
1 Chop |
To The Throat |
::
2004 9 November :: 8.38 am
:: Music: the music of Mr. Holland's Opus
Danielle to Laurence: What is something you’ve learned about Joe since he’s been here?
Laurence: Uh….um…when we were watching the Ellen DVD I noticed he blinks a lot.
Joe: WHAT!? I blink a lot!?
Laurence: Yeah, I dunno, I guess. I just noticed you blinked a lot.
Joe: Why the hell were you paying attention to my blinking rather than watching the DVD? I feel violated!
Laurence: Hahaha
Of course this is not verbatim, and it was 4 months ago, so I don’t remember exactly, but its close enough.
So a few weeks ago I remembered this conversation and I put it to the test. I was watching Law & Order at a friend’s house and I was competing with the actors on the show, and I’d blink like twice before they blinked once. But I wasn’t convinced, it could’ve been some trickery of television. So I tested myself against the three other people in the room. I was sitting in a position where I could creepily watch them and not be noticed. And again, my eyes would dry out quicker than them. So I’ve concluded that these Caribbean Blues need to be reunited with the sea a bit more often than regular folk.
26 Chops |
To The Throat |
::
2004 28 October :: 8.05 am
-Budget allotted to the 9/11 commission to investigate the terrorist attacks:
$15 million
-Amount spent on Kenneth Starr's investigations of Bill Clinton's sexual and financial affairs:
$70 million
It's nice to see where our priorities are
2 Chops |
To The Throat |
::
2004 27 October :: 10.19 am
This feeling gets old
And so do your eyes
This is why....
I Hate You
1 Chop |
To The Throat |
::
2004 25 October :: 8.36 pm
:: Music: The Used - Let It Bleed
Don't you love how cell phones provide people an excuse to bitch at you about not answering? I remember back before cell phones were the norm, friends actually had to call the house to find you. I can scroll through my list of contacts and not one is a house number, save for my parents' houses. Before cell phones you had to leave messages with either parents or siblings or on an answering machine, now all I get are voice messages containing: "where the hell are you?" "why are you ignoring me?" "Yeah, its cool that you don't answer your phone" Well y'know what.. FUCK OFF! Cell phones are meant as a convenience to the person in possession in order to call in any situation, i.e. car trouble, insane murderers chasing you, etc. not for people to always be able to get a hold of you. I'm not at your beckon call, I'm not always available, I don't always want to talk. Cell phones have turned us into assholes, as have many other things that we have around nowadays. Plus its helped us forget all kinds of numbers. When my cell phone died a few months ago, I was screwed. I didn't have ANYONE'S numbers. Well that was my rant... I can't delve into the deep recesses of my soul and pull out the dark goo that plagues me and paste it on here for everyone to see, so instead I bitch about cell phones.. ah well.
14 Chops |
To The Throat |
::
2004 21 October :: 7.06 pm
:: Music: What do you think?
I'd steal a carcass for you....
2 Chops |
To The Throat |
::
2004 14 October :: 2.25 pm
Choose a band/artist and answer only in song TITLES by that band: Deftones
Are you male or female: The Boy's Republic
Describe yourself: Headup
How do some people feel about you: Lifter
How do you feel about yourself: One Weak
Describe your ex-boyfriend/girlfriend: Deathblow
Describe where you want to be: My Own Summer
Describe what you want to be: Elite
Describe how you live: Anniversary of an Uninteresting Event
Describe how you love: Good Morning Beautiful
Describe how you party: Knife Prty
Share a few words of wisdom: Be Quiet And Drive (Far Away)
2 Chops |
To The Throat |
::
2004 13 October :: 4.46 pm
:: Music: Hawthorne Heights - Ohio Is For Lovers
I think Laurence owes a debt of gratitude to Kevin Randall and Allison Yocum.
Had Kevin not dated Allison, I wouldn't have met Brandy, who wouldn't have introduced me to Laurence, who wouldn't have introduced me to Woohu, which I then wouldn't have posted about Deftones, which wouldn't have caught the attention of a couple of Deftone-crazy Kuwaities, who one of which in particular wouldn't have met Laurence. ; )
Granted, there is the off-chance that you two would've met randomly on here on your own, but for the sake of my journal entry, lets pretend not.
9 Chops |
To The Throat |
::
2004 8 October :: 1.18 pm
:: Music: Head Automatica - Disco Hades II
I woke up last night at around midnight, vigorously scratching my arms, hands and shoulders. I went to the bathroom to look in the mirror and found a huge bite on my tricep and various smaller bites all around. I went back to bed thinking "great, last time I moved to San Luis I got sick, this time, there are spiders" Throughout the night I have numerous dreams pertaining to the bites, like having them cover my entire arm. I wake up and there is absolutely no sign of anything. Now I'm freaking out. Did I dream everything? Did the bites subside after only a few hours? Have I gone insane? When I supposedly woke up, everything was vivid. Kyle was in his room, lights were on, it was real. I'm still convinced that it was real, but without evidence I'm without a case.
10 Chops |
To The Throat |
|