tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-62714202012-02-07T19:40:20.725-05:00some people feed the homeless. i do this.ledusenoreply@blogger.comBlogger1421100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1152844811512290972006-07-13T22:04:00.000-04:002006-07-13T22:40:11.530-04:00

1) you refer to your dealer as your dealer2) you order a coke and someone breaks out a baggy full of powder of indeterminate origin and youre like, no, motherfucker, im thirsty. this happens more often than not.3) scarface starts to look like a pussy when you consider that party you went to in queens.4) so many skateboards. so few people who can actually ride them.5) you feel like you live in the

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1146088002507704212006-04-26T16:06:00.001-04:002006-04-26T17:46:42.506-04:00

did you actually just fashion your leash into a crop and whip my dog with it? no seriously. did you, in fact, just beat my dog? the dog that is mine, and not yours? really? did you hit him? hard? causing him to yelp in pain and run to me and cower under a bench behind my legs? did it make you feel like a Big Man to give a defenseless animal what for?you, sir, are a sack of shit. and if you ever

ledusenoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1145557380959245712006-04-20T13:53:00.000-04:002006-04-20T14:23:01.043-04:00

so we have a wee problem here at 4E, the apartment where dreams sometimes go to die. The crapper keeps stopping up. And our pakistani/pseudo-muslim/sikh/shit-in-his-beard-he's-been-growing-since-birth-praise-allah super wont do anything about it, aside from recommending that we don't use toilet paper. the fuck? are we supposed to use corn husks like the fucking indians? fuck that. indians are

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1135090736275568192005-12-20T09:55:00.000-05:002005-12-20T09:58:56.286-05:00

do what you need to do.damn the man.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1134704696458065482005-12-15T22:25:00.000-05:002005-12-15T22:44:56.523-05:00

while there have been numerous low points in my relocation to new york, the city that chews you up, spits you out, and then makes fun of your mom, i have reached rock. fucking. bottom. i got fired today. i haven't even worked in this place for a month and i got shit-canned. Mere HOURS after i turned down another job because it would interfere with the first one. did i mention new york is

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1133980143104375182005-12-07T13:21:00.000-05:002005-12-07T13:29:03.113-05:00

this actually made me nauseous.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1133563937448868472005-12-02T17:07:00.000-05:002005-12-02T17:52:17.493-05:00

I had seven faces thought i knew which one to wearI'm sick of spending these lonely nights training myself not to carethe subway is a porno pavements they are a messi know you've supported me for a long timesomehow i'm not impressed so a friend writes me one of those, 'what does it all mean', 'why are we here' and 'help me im lost in my own ass-hole' letters.and im like, whoa there....WHOA. you,

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1133285165675362422005-11-29T12:07:00.000-05:002005-12-02T13:15:23.833-05:00

1. your bar is just a front for your lucrative, mob-related money laundering business.2. you insist i conserve and reuse rubber bands because they are oh so expensive.3. during happy hour, you play the NIN version of "Hurt". HAPPY hour.4. everything must be written in capital letters and all messages must be as brief as possible. ME TALK GOOD ONE DAY. I RETARDED.5. there are more doors, levels

ledusenoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1132201617825779442005-11-16T23:09:00.000-05:002005-11-16T23:26:57.836-05:00

ive been going on craigslist to try and get some sucky bartending job, like, anywhere. since ive been back in nyc ive managed to sign on to a temp agency, but that leaves my nights open for a shift or two a week that could be filled with many shots of bourbon and enough cash to roll around naked in at the end of the night. piles and piles of money. im done with being poor. being poor sucks ass.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1132200523914604882005-11-16T23:05:00.000-05:002005-11-16T23:08:43.926-05:00

my website gets third place in the search for free-basing vicodin. on msn anyway.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1131559437182554942005-11-09T12:20:00.000-05:002005-11-09T13:03:57.246-05:00

yeah. thatd be great. and before i return, it would also be great if you could remove the crack-head that always hangs out in front of my apartment. hes always accusing my dog of mugging him. "Tha's the dog that mugged me las' night!". which is bullshit because my dog hasnt the opposable thumbs. also, the other homeless dude/crackhead who referred to my dog as a 'nigga'. as in, when i was walking

ledusenoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1131408334386298522005-11-07T18:53:00.000-05:002005-11-07T19:05:34.483-05:00

ledusenoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1130629626201780472005-10-29T18:49:00.000-04:002005-10-29T19:47:06.266-04:00

dear idiot ex:1. if you make a habit of sexing people in the same circle of friends every time, eventually, we're all going to get together and talk about your penis. in all the ways that are not good. dumbass.2. youre ex-girlfriend is fucking psycho. that is all.3. i wasnt referring to myself in that last point. seriously.4. and admittedly, im pretty fucking crazy. so shes like...whoa.5. you

ledusenoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1130537890618752002005-10-28T17:53:00.000-04:002005-10-28T18:18:11.213-04:00

you see, this is the type of shit thats gay. if you werent such a massive butthole, id be calling you right now to see how you were doing. i know you just lost your game and all, and that probably sucks. so maybe you dont want to talk to anybody anyway. and thats fine. but because you cant stop yourself from being the biggest tool in the shed, i wont be calling you at all. ever. and thats the

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1130203467719134052005-10-24T21:15:00.000-04:002005-10-24T21:24:27.726-04:00

homecoming is silly. it took me three months to grow back my stomach lining. and now what. gone. thats what.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1129696676372330712005-10-19T00:05:00.000-04:002005-10-19T00:37:56.430-04:00

dear life,please stop sucking. there is only so much suck one person can suck on before they start choking. maybe if you could start small. for instance, you could let my dog know that peeing all at once is far more efficient than saving it up for each and every bush and lamppost ever. EVER. and then you could tell him to stop being a whiny little bitch at 9am when im sleeping. yes. im the only

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1129518347988349222005-10-16T22:38:00.000-04:002005-10-16T23:14:14.546-04:00

i have read five harry potter books in the last week. im halfway through the sixth. im going to cry when i am done. there will be nothing left to make me not bored. and im pretty sure a fuck-load of people are going to get killed off at the end of this book, and its going to end all dark and disturbing like, and then im going to have to wait for three feking years for the last bloody book to come

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1129432719233707372005-10-15T22:40:00.000-04:002005-10-15T23:18:39.266-04:00

so i was talking with a friend last night about the emotional murdersuck that life can sometimes be, and he was all 'dude, thats the best part, feeling all these different emotions, the stronger the better". and i was like "are you high?!", which, of course, we were. it makes sense, if you allow for the assumption that youre going to get an equal-ish portion of all these emotional episodes.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1129265829211352432005-10-13T23:04:00.000-04:002005-10-14T00:57:09.273-04:00

"always seems like your leaving/ when i need you here/ just a little longer..." ~Violent Femmesi have a recurring dream/nightmare that people keep disappearing. this isnt something that should be surprising or uncharacteristic, i probably have lots of fears roiling beneath the surface of my conscious thoughts. but it seems bizarre that in every one of these dreams i get so frantic and sweaty and

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1129174165416830162005-10-12T22:49:00.000-04:002005-10-12T23:29:25.463-04:00

my brother is a fine upstanding citizen, and after a few years of rumspringa-esque naughtiness he now goes to church and doesn't even smoke cigarettes or anything. i was thinking about how he's so annoyingly put together and how his life is perfect and how for christmas a couple years ago he gave me his old black fleece. the tag said something like, "black sheep of the family: it's your turn,

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1129083826565278082005-10-11T21:18:00.000-04:002005-10-12T22:48:41.006-04:00

but not in an existential, nine-inch-nails kind of way. yet.so a week ago i fractured three vertebrae in my back. and yeah, it hurt like a bastard. it still does hurt like a bastard. but really not the worst part, the painful stabbing is.I AM SO FUCKING BORED. BOREDBOREDBOREDBOREDBORED. i cant go anywhere. i cant do anything. i cant stay in an upright and locked position for any significant

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1129005120245011112005-10-11T00:02:00.000-04:002005-10-11T00:32:00.280-04:00

but it looks like ill be gaying right along with it for some time to come.so i looked all over the place for something that didnt suck as bad as blogger. but there were stringent limits as to what amount of effort i was willing to put into de-gaying my online publishing gaiety. i took a good long look at movable type. long enough to realize i didnt know how to install it. long enough to know i

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1126820200174052762005-09-15T17:10:00.000-04:002005-10-11T00:02:03.946-04:00

So here goes:first i didnt get into school and then a nut-bar moved in with me cause my best friend moved away and then the crazy started stealing money from me and also he got arrested for stealing from bookstoresandebay and then i got a dog i think you already know that and his name is troy and then my asshole boyfriend dumped me whenineededhimthemost story of my life and did i mention the

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1112898874970409362005-04-07T14:28:00.000-04:002005-04-07T14:34:34.970-04:00

all i need is my leatherone t-shirt and two socksill keep my hands warm in your pocketsyou can use the engine blockand we'll light out to californiawith my arms around you chest and ill pretend that this is realcause this is what i love best.im going to stop writing for awhile. i dont have anything to say.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1111117054728029232005-03-17T22:13:00.000-05:002005-03-17T22:37:34.730-05:00

while i was in the library this morning i kept a pretty close watch on the clock cause i had a paper due. yeah. my lazy ass went back to school. so around 12:00, while i was freaking out about some paper and a stupid test, this kid across campus was busy killing himself. just a few buildings away and all. i thought, 'what a random time to kill yourself'. but maybe it wasn't random for him.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1110226602112654482005-03-07T15:08:00.000-05:002005-03-07T15:16:42.113-05:00

how in fuck does someone who used to be an english major find themself completely unable to write an eight page paper without getting donkey-raped by grammar and a complete lack of an attention span? bah.why is writing crap i dont want to write about so hard. if this assignment were about farts and penises i would so get an A. farts and penises. where can i go to school for to write about

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1108525821011170132005-02-15T22:31:00.000-05:002005-02-15T22:50:21.013-05:00

...but are probably never going to happen.i want to get an A on my next test.i want to be a good dog mama.i want my cell-phone battery to discontinue sucking it's own dick.i miss my parents.i miss my brother.i miss my bob.i want everything that must be done to schedule itself in a nice orderly fashion, or, to be able to clone myself whilst my clone does all the sucky stuff i have to do but dont

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1107668747177415522005-02-06T01:14:00.000-05:002005-02-06T00:45:47.176-05:00

the very next person that asks me that question is getting a pint glass right up inside their asshole. seriously. thats a heavy question. and its kind of personal. so why the fuck is it that total strangers youve just met feel entitled to demand a dissertation on your future life's work? 'well sir, im going to have 3.14 kids and i am going to feed them pie. is that a good enough answer

ledusenoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1107666767508555352005-02-06T01:09:00.000-05:002005-02-06T00:12:47.506-05:00

so. the last time i got fired from the job of girlfriend, the first thing that popped into my head was, 'golly, i sure am glad i didnt bother shaving.' cause that wouldve made it so much worse. really.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1106853688675198432005-01-27T14:14:00.000-05:002005-01-27T14:21:28.676-05:00

so i walk into my room today, and i notice that my dog is chewing on a somewhat large object. turns out, the little shit-head is gnawing on an empty bottle of my anti-anxiety medication. by virtue of medicinal residue, he will be very chill for the rest of the night. very. very. chill.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1106543334190333382005-01-23T23:14:00.000-05:002005-01-24T00:08:54.190-05:00

i thought some guys on the radio were rapping about chickens and ducks the other day. and i was like aw. thats so cute. the chorus went something like 'two chickens and a duck, fuck fuckety fuck'. but they're really saying this. i was crushed.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1106449633938337512005-01-22T21:57:00.000-05:002005-01-22T22:07:13.936-05:00

this weather blows. it makes me want to sleep all day. and dogs that are whining because they want to go outside and prance around in the sleet can go fuck themselves.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1105292937311499862005-01-09T13:46:00.000-05:002005-01-22T22:10:11.753-05:00

i cant believe he's not dead yet. im a fucking saint. gimme a cookie.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1105203935720930552005-01-08T11:23:00.000-05:002005-01-08T12:05:35.720-05:00

this is the sort of blog entry that people use as evidence in homicide trials. ones where they try to prove premeditation so the scumbag on trial cant get off on manslaughter. except im not really going to kill anyone. i just dont know how to express myself very well. when someone flails their way into your life by chance and that person sucks so bad that you are unable to articulate how much

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1104441996292048932004-12-30T15:42:00.000-05:002004-12-30T16:26:36.293-05:00

if i get one more email trying to super-size my penis... well. i probably wont do anything. really. laziness and procrastination are far more satisfying attributes than irritation and/or blind hate. penis mail's just another one of life's metaphysical gnats, squatting on your coke can or flying up your nose. so. its been a whole year. just about. i really dont want to write anything meaningful

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1103427260672953992004-12-18T22:21:00.000-05:002004-12-18T22:34:20.673-05:00

my dork friends and i, all two of them, have a little saying. the specifics arent fit to print, but lets just say they involve the words 'balls', 'deep', and 'ass'. instead of saying hello to each other. instead of making idle, pleasant conversation about the weather. instead of going to church and praying for our certainly damned souls, we giggle and chitter like coked up monkeys because one of

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1102972140786678732004-12-13T15:39:00.000-05:002004-12-13T16:09:00.786-05:00

still not dead. and now i have a computer to tell everyone about it. and a dog. his name is troy. he will eat your dog if he can. especially if your dog is a little yapper that shouldnt really be classified within the bona fide species of dog anyway. those dogs are rodents. and should be dealt with accordingly. am i alone in thinking that a chihuaha is rat-esque? if chihuahas were found to

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1097549943456686962004-10-11T22:16:00.000-04:002004-10-11T23:03:17.493-04:00

there are many different stages of drunkenness, as well as different types of drunk. you can be tequila drunk or red wine drunk, but theyre fundamentally different animals. examples of the types of drunken-ness one can achieve are: vodka drunk, boat-drink drunk, beer (we'll be here all fucking night) drunk etc. general side effects may include: tequila= the encrazyment of the drinker. beer= the

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1097474846535944262004-10-11T01:23:00.000-04:002004-10-11T02:07:26.536-04:00

this guy, we'll call him 'ray', is running for president of asshole-land on the platform that mornings are the devil. but thats neither here nor there. being that im the current president of asshole-land, and also a card-carrying member, there have been many discussions as to the true nature of that which is an asshole, and who among us is most capable of stepping up, and wearing the esteemed

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1097040259015256972004-10-06T01:19:00.000-04:002004-10-06T01:24:19.016-04:00

i appolomagize profusely. i have no computer. i dont even have a place where i can pretend i have a computer. i merely have a library from where i can sometimes talk some shit about the douche-bags i work with. (love you guys!). seriously, i am in die-ing-er need of some fucking internet access. so. dudes i work with need to quick looking at so. fucking. much. porn. because for

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1095568911009857162004-09-19T01:21:00.000-04:002004-09-19T00:41:51.010-04:00

oh dear lord. the drunkenness that is now. 1. that chick in the chris isaak video wearing dude's underwear. that shit's hot. 2. noses. i dont know why. 3. boobs. that clearly needs no explanation. i am straight. but if i see my humble boobs in the mirror. oy. so totally hot. 4. when the chick in the chris isaak video rubs sand all over her excellent nubile body. hot. 5. when the chick in the

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1095291649131872802004-09-15T19:37:00.000-04:002004-09-15T19:40:49.133-04:00

dude1: 'the only people that go to the green leafe are english professors and fags.' dude2: 'thats not true, english professors never hang out there.'

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1094961295801736342004-09-11T23:18:00.000-04:002004-09-11T23:54:55.800-04:00

'everyone's afraid of their own life, if you could be anything you wanted i bet you'd be disappointed. am i right?' ~isaac brock what the hell do you do when you dont know what to do with yourself. in the sense that you dont want to do what everyone else is doing, and therefore have no guide or map or obvious route to which you could emulate. i guess it would be so excellently easy for a person

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1094543391236553102004-09-07T03:22:00.000-04:002004-09-07T03:50:54.333-04:00

i realize the lack of posting might signify that i am, in fact, quite dead. but fortunately i am not an old woman in the possession many, many cats that could possibly be feasting on my ripe carcass by now. god thats gross. sorry dudes. i dont know. ive been a little busy. just a little. and ive come to a realization that my shit was not good. my shit was in fact awful. my karmic shit was of the

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1094341597055429962004-09-04T19:44:00.000-04:002004-09-04T19:46:37.056-04:00

i am writing this at work on a computer that moves as fast as my dead grandmother. the reason being, my poor roomate's computer is sick and we dont know how for to fix it. so ive been ultra lazy about finding ways to make blog entries.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1092532770738054262004-08-14T21:04:00.000-04:002004-08-14T21:19:30.736-04:00

oh lawd. i live on the eastern sea-board thingy. so hurricane Charley is about to crawl right up in my ass and pick out curtains. last time a hurricane came to town i broke my arm on it. i just threw the old cast away, and i really dont want a new one to jump on my elbow. that would suck. so ive got candles all up over this bitch. you may remember them from such posts as, 'jesus fucking christ

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1092286778237999142004-08-12T00:31:00.000-04:002004-08-12T01:04:30.280-04:00

my roomate might be the largest dipshit on the planet. but he also might be the nicest person ive ever met. except when he wants to fight glasses that need to be broken. but thats funny so its ok. sample of bob wisdom: 'i dont know what you think youre doing, but youve got to talk to me sometime. because all this seclusion and not hanging out with any of your friends is bullshit. youve got to

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1092261667762404732004-08-11T17:49:00.000-04:002004-08-11T22:43:37.880-04:00

a girl with a clip-board walks up to a group of cooks smoking in the back parking lot. she says tentatively, 'any of you guys want to sign a pledge that says youll vote this year'? nobody says anything. they continue smoking, and look at one another, waiting for someone to make her go away. finally one of them says, 'im a convicted felon'. she looks them and goes, 'oh. ok.' and walks quickly

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1092111710667431382004-08-09T23:46:00.000-04:002004-08-10T00:24:26.573-04:00

since the hair nazis have left town, i think im going to have to fix the dead animal on my head. at least i hope they're gone. id feel like a total shit-bird if one of them came in and i had obviously tweeked out the mullet-y part. anywho. ive been thinking. about lots of random crap. the problem is, i cant seem to concentrate on one thinkable subject for any significant amount of time. i have

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1092021416017523982004-08-08T22:44:00.000-04:002004-08-08T23:19:26.610-04:00

i got my hairs cut today. dude comes up to me at the coffee shop and is like 'hey dude, you want a hair cut?' i wasnt offended or anything, cause my hair was approaching haggard. since my mood the last few days could most aptly be described as nutbar, i was all 'yes. yes sir i do want a hair cut'. and dude gave me $50 and a bag o' hair products. it was pretty sweet. i sat on a stage and a

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1091942291076290842004-08-08T01:14:00.000-04:002004-08-08T01:18:11.076-04:00

this is how it is suposed to be. i like you. you like me. we spoon a little. we maybe start to dig each other. but there is certainly no way i am allowed to give a shit. and there we are. and now i am doing a car bomb.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1091904003851344582004-08-07T13:39:00.000-04:002004-08-07T14:40:03.853-04:00

you silly, silly girl. why would you go to the sandwich shop located in the middle of colonial williamsburg, on saturday, at 12:00 sharp, in the height of tourist season. you are not a smart townie. but that was a good motherfucking sandwich. i tell you what. ive been putting off writing a real post for a while now. and by real post i mean something with more depth than that of a baby pool.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1091718201562699412004-08-05T10:59:00.000-04:002004-08-05T11:03:21.563-04:00

are you ok? yeah, but the room is spinning when i close my eyes. have you been licking frogs again? no, ive been kissing them.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1091596526341766632004-08-04T00:58:00.000-04:002004-08-04T01:15:26.340-04:00

there is still no power in my house. there is no hot water. the hot water thing is almost ok, because it is hotter than the fire of a billion suns in williamsburg. but, the drains are still clogged. i used drano. i shot high velocity water directly into the drain. i yelled at it. i cried at it. i showered and eventually swam in it. i am seriously considering locating where it is that high

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1091324143527826672004-07-31T20:48:00.000-04:002004-07-31T21:36:07.790-04:00

well. i cried when i was cleaning out the refrigerator. and then i cried some more when i realized that the stupid mop had already been packed, and fuck knows where. and then i cried when i found it. i cried when i inadvertently saw a picture of paris hilton's tits in the newspaper. (that's news???). i cried some more when i realized it was, in fact, news. i cried vomiting, sputtering, calf

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1090991183486290772004-07-28T00:57:00.000-04:002004-07-28T01:06:23.486-04:00

we'll all float on.  ok. stupid song's starting to make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  i am, in fact, aware that this is the second time ive linked to this.  but its 1am and i have no where to live.  yet.  packing sucks.  but if you press 'play', and then 'repeat', its seems way more than all good.  dont you worry.  sometimes life's ok.  good news is on the way. 

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1090989512045332152004-07-28T00:21:00.000-04:002004-07-28T00:41:57.886-04:00

fuck.  god fucking dammit.  fuck.  fuck.  fuck.  there once was girl named 'leduse'.  and she had way too much fucking crap for her own good.  and she tended to worry about it a great deal, when the point where she had to move out seemed eminent.  oh. so. fucking. eminent. and then there was a boy named bob.  who did little dances around the girl that was trying to pack while the girl was

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1090694121385963182004-07-24T14:05:00.000-04:002004-07-24T14:35:21.386-04:00

so, where i work, when you start a tab for someone, you use a ridiculous screen keyboard to write out the person's last name.  at least, that's what youre supposed to do.  more often than not, tabs turn up as 'assface'  and 'doooshbag'.   its a nice little passive-aggressive way to send out our vibes of hate to a customer who decides to suck. and sometimes we make up subtle ones like,  'dudes'

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1089397780672136422004-07-09T14:09:00.000-04:002004-07-16T16:30:23.800-04:00

we got fun and games. or, that time i got drunk in cancun and woke up with a tattoo on my ass. cliche. meh. in my 20th year of life, i decided to cash in my meal plan, all $700 of it, and put the money toward one debauched week in spring break-assaulted cancun, mexico. and almost five years later the smell of ramen wafting gently from a dorm room microwave still gives me the vomits. 

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1089396361777671462004-07-09T13:56:00.000-04:002004-07-09T14:06:01.776-04:00

what day is it today? the 9th or something? yes. i still do not have a place to live. the not knowing what day it is...not helping. so these nazis that rent houses dont really want to let you rent their houses. they just put up signs in the front yards to show that they have all these cool places to live but you cant live there. this is not a game. this is not a game called monopoly. the

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1088622857140316262004-06-30T14:52:00.000-04:002004-06-30T15:14:17.140-04:00

from an actual woman, and not 'Maxim'. 1. first, ask yourself these questions. and be honest: do i live in my parents basement? do i have a job? do i ever, in any context, make use of the word 'holla'? if you answered 'yes' to any of these questions, you have a damn sight more things to worry about than a piece of pussy, and should not be wasting any of my time with your entreaties. 2.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1088534691848521222004-06-29T14:40:00.000-04:002004-06-29T14:44:51.846-04:00

been busy. brother married. house not found. elephant not eradicated. hairs not cut. sleep not had. eyebrows going unplucked for what seems like weeks. fuck blog.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1087617180544788602004-06-18T23:31:00.000-04:002004-06-18T23:53:00.543-04:00

ever walk into an old navy store and see some dipshit with a head-set on, and wonder what the fuck could possibly be so important in an old navy store, that requires up to the minute communication? its as though theyre all feverishly dedicated to the strategizing of ways to get performance fleece to you, as quickly and conveniently as possible, so as to avert the disaster of your leaving theyre

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1087462949145084662004-06-17T04:10:00.000-04:002004-06-17T05:02:29.146-04:00

i loathe confrontation. id rather tip-toe around the ginormous pink elephant in my living room, than risk making it feel sad by telling it that things just aren't working out, and that it is too pink and too big and i cant take it anymore, and will it please leave. cause i dont want to make anyone feel badly. especially not an elephant. but for serious, i dont know how to make both the

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1087197226933182502004-06-14T02:51:00.000-04:002004-06-14T03:13:46.933-04:00

i dont like stephen king. not even a little. i think his books suck ass. all except for the dark tower series. i read the new book, in all its four hundred page glory, in less than 24 hours. and in the middle of that i might have gotten somewhat drunk, thusly killing yet more time. my nerding has been going really well. im usually not afforded the time to nerd so exclusively and

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1086898040225493672004-06-10T15:56:00.000-04:002004-06-10T16:07:20.226-04:00

ive got nowhere to live. im pretty sure my roommate and i have to exit the premises, with our tons of crap that we dont need, in the next month. i might be living out of my car, or slobbing on someone's couch. this sucks. eh. not really worried about my prospects in the finding a new place to live department. there's a million little shit-hole shanties in my town, and ive never been afraid

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1086200205585409782004-06-02T14:16:00.000-04:002004-06-02T15:04:28.603-04:00

the mutual affection dogs and owners share makes the world, and waking up in the morning, suck less. a woman was cruising down the road in a wheelchair, with her big hairy dog beside her, and i was jealous. of the woman in the wheelchair, who lives in the nursing home across the street. this struck me as an apt metaphor for the seemingly endless desire of people to acquire more and more shit

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1086154275495693902004-06-02T01:08:00.000-04:002004-06-02T01:31:15.496-04:00

things that are bothersome to dudes: 1. calling them, like, ever. 2. taking an interest in their goddamn lives. 3. looking sideways at a baby. 4. poking them with your finger. 5. poking them with your finger even when they tell you to stop, for serious. 6. getting good and drunk, making fun of their shitty taste in music, and then pleading with them to get over themselves. 7. dropping a

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1085541591693044642004-05-25T23:13:00.000-04:002004-05-25T23:19:51.693-04:00

vacation time is beautiful time. a time of idyllic beautifulness. and im off to sunny...seattle. what the fuck ever. at least i dont have to be at work for a full five days. and a bad day fishing is still better than a good day at work. word. can you believe 'beautifulness' is a real word? i cant. thank the gods for spell-check.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1084820215228423332004-05-17T14:41:00.000-04:002004-05-17T14:56:55.226-04:00

what. so you thought you were going to occupy my airspace for the first time months. and then you thought i would be ok with this. and then you went so far as to joke about it with mutual friends. on how you might 'get some' this weekend. i cant decide if im more irked by your stupidity or your hubris. the only thing you will be poking is the hornet's nest of my rage. the only 'some' you

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1084511586747664122004-05-14T00:39:00.000-04:002004-05-14T01:13:06.746-04:00

chain-smoking. waiting. thinking of things to do to make myself busy. i dont have to be busy cause its my day off, for chrissake. fuck the mid-life crisis. im having a huge fucking wigg-out-cause-im-not-even-25-yet-and-im-shitting-my-pantalones crisis. what the fuck am i doing with my life. the simple answer being: not a goddamn thing. i can write as many snarky mean-spirited things as i

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1084472471953402552004-05-13T13:33:00.000-04:002004-05-13T14:21:11.953-04:00

there is no sex in my violence. dear guy who stole my bike seat, it was good of you to leave your really crappy trek seat in place of my really awesome gary fischer one. it has just the right amount of aesthetically pleasing rust on it, lending my bike a quaint redneck credibility. but, guy who stole my bike seat, i did not desire you to make this trade. i liked my seat just fine, though,

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1084436073898546682004-05-13T03:24:00.000-04:002004-05-13T04:14:33.896-04:00

so. why do i yell at perfectly nice people when im inebriated. cant i yell at people i hate. no. i pick on the cool people. perhaps getting black-out drunk on a fairly regular basis isn't the best of ideas. quothe the immortal colin farrel: "I ended up on a shrink's couch and he told me to write down how much I did in a week. Twenty E's, four grams of coke, six of speed, half an ounce of

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1083858223826775772004-05-06T11:25:00.002-04:002004-05-13T03:20:13.846-04:00

the eternal conflict. ok. im going to have this one beer. and then im going home. just one. maybe ill run afterwards. beer running is fun. hydrating and anesthetizing. i could still be so totally productive after just this one beer. what? youre getting a shot? dude. i want one too. aaargh. my beer is almost gone. what am i going to chase this tasty shot with? all right goddamnit.

ledusenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1083351173297276342004-04-30T13:56:00.000-04:002004-04-30T14:57:38.403-04:00

so this is how i learned about racism. i shadowed my brother most everywhere because i thought he was the shit. more like obsessively stalked him. that is, until i figured out that he was a boy and boys are slimy and they smell bad and we should throw rocks at them and poke at with twigs. i was being the usual hanger-on pain in the ass, and i followed my brother over to his friend mark's

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1083222300332244112004-04-29T02:37:00.000-04:002004-04-29T03:09:17.106-04:00

somewhat crappy ways to deal with your shit. i am a well-motherfucking-adjusted individual. goddamnit. several not so nice things have occured in my lifetime, but i am not naive enough to believe that such events dont bust up other people's 'chi'. like, i dont try to stroke the whoa-is-me card. is what im trying to say. i guess. i write things down, and then i feel better. and if

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1083210819042141202004-04-28T23:29:00.000-04:002004-04-29T00:20:16.890-04:00

Pray God you can cope. I stand outside this woman's work, This woman's world. Ooh, it's hard on the man, Now his part is over. Now starts the craft of the father. I know you have a little life in you yet. I know you have a lot of strength left. I know you have a little life in you yet. I know you have a lot of strength left. I should be crying, but I just can't let it show. I should

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1083122229181784342004-04-27T23:03:00.000-04:002004-04-27T23:21:24.200-04:00

this is why the music industry blows. thank you, pound. for pointing this out. fuck you, nickleback.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1083053944323206102004-04-27T03:37:00.000-04:002004-05-13T04:19:21.413-04:00

people fucking suck. sorry. no im not. 1. listen, asshole. dont order a sample of a drink, deem it yummy, and then proceed to drink half of it, and then also proceed to tell me it no longer suits your obviously fickle fancy. 2. hey dipshit. that's what samples are for. if you didn't like that fucking sample you should most definitely not have ordered a massive pint of it. asshole. you are

ledusenoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1083007271700244892004-04-26T15:04:00.000-04:002004-04-26T15:25:24.843-04:00

this is so fucked up.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1082946169979244982004-04-25T20:53:00.000-04:002004-04-25T22:46:20.716-04:00

or, i really enjoy compiling useless lists. or, its april but whatever. 1. drinking is the devil. stop dancing with him. so much. in the pale moonlight. 2. smoking will only lead to a pair of lungs as black as your heart. 3. stop not shitting. seriously. 4. sleep long enough to become not enraged at birds chirping in the morning. 5. no more shaking of the enraged fist at birds. they

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1082914466586725272004-04-25T13:18:00.000-04:002004-04-25T13:48:05.483-04:00

...still arachnophobic as a motherfucker. spiders are total assholes. i hate them. i am strongly opposed their sometimes hairy-ness. when i dream of them it makes me not happy. so i was at this party last night, and this girl was like, 'hey, why arent you talking? whats with the not talking? why dont you talk more?'. to which i replied, 'well. i am shy, and i definitely dont know maybe

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1082834709653755732004-04-24T14:08:00.000-04:002004-04-24T15:31:41.750-04:00

his fucking majesty, Elton John. i know its an idiotic, 'im a fourteen year-old boy who hasn't achieved puberty yet', thing to do, but i still turn all the lights off and listen to pink floyd's The Wall, in it's entirety. sometimes. i see nothing wrong with this. i dont even like pink floyd much. but like all music, it has this ability to impress itself indelibly with good and bad memories.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1082765928220843342004-04-23T20:18:00.000-04:002004-04-23T21:20:30.200-04:00

so ive been meaning to see the 'jesus christ chain-saw massacre', but given my repressed-nazi-catholic upbringing, i am decidedly hesitant. as i am still a recovering catho-holic, i feel it would be a step backward to review the propaganda, in graphic detail, that's been shoved down my esophagus long before anything should have ever been shoved down my esophagus. i like the idea of jesus. he

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1082733597782633472004-04-23T10:49:00.000-04:002004-04-27T23:33:30.856-04:00

reproductions of ridiculous shit uttered, recently. 'dude, look at all these parking spaces. ive never seen so many open. i feel heady with power, yet am indecisive.' 'yeah, i know. lets just stay out here and park the car again and again until we get it out of our systems. look at all the possibilities!' 'man, i had to spend two entire days cramped in a suburban with my family. it

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1082702194705530082004-04-23T02:23:00.000-04:002004-04-23T02:40:42.780-04:00

god motherfucking dammit. at some point i will be able to make an actual entry to my actual blog, but until that time when i become not cheap enough to not buy my own motherfucking computer, i will be inundated with monkeys looking over my fucking shoulder to see what im writing. yes. i know this is a public fucking site. but its a little fucking hard to concentrate with eighteen drunken

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1082328702663452142004-04-18T18:31:00.000-04:002004-04-18T18:55:45.373-04:00

so i went to a wedding this weekend. you know, the joining of man to woman. or woman to woman. or man to man. or man to woman to man. whatever. aside from having to spend way too much time with my parents in a suburban, i actually had fun. also, my brother and his fiance came along for the ride, and it was good to get to know her better. though, im not sure i like the dynamic involved when

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1082014149653537082004-04-15T02:32:00.000-04:002004-04-15T03:34:20.623-04:00

so my land-overlord came over yesterday but didnt give my roomates and i any warning. and he had some prospective renters with him. and our house is a complete shite-hole right now. naturally, i had been up till that hour of the morning when the sun should rise, but as williamsburg is the forsaken, curs-ed, barren center of the universe, where nothing will grow and no light will shine and

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1081966649773183452004-04-14T13:42:00.000-04:002004-04-14T14:23:29.700-04:00

top ten reasons i went to william and mary. really. 1. UVA told me to go fuck myself. 2. out of state tuition is a total bitch. 3. accidentally included a photo in all my other applications. 4. im really fucking ugly. 5. came to visit on the one day in the 1000 year astral cycle that williamsburg is sunny. assumed it was always sunny. was fucking wrong. 6. saw someone drinking a beer and

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1081836004333250062004-04-13T01:59:00.000-04:002004-04-13T02:13:56.560-04:00

every poet is a thief... ~paul hewson its killing me that i feel like everything i write is just some idiotic mock of something someone has already done. i am a product of what i grew up on. there isn't much i can bullshit in the world of the internet. and i dont want to. i definitely dont fucking want to. but i just feel like this massive, hemorrhaging douche-bag, when i 'reference'

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1081749410307251392004-04-12T01:35:00.000-04:002004-04-12T02:24:27.013-04:00

i have a bad habit of listening to Kid A when im really depressed. which blatantly doesn't help. cause it's not the most uplifting of soundtracks. but it has been the theme music to my 'im way too fucking miserable to get out of bed' type days. someone please shoot thom yorke and put him out of his misery. someone please shoot me and put me out of my misery. maybe this fabulastic mood is

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1081703644024646132004-04-11T12:30:00.000-04:002004-04-11T13:17:56.560-04:00

i stole this. from this. genius.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1081483198966704152004-04-08T23:54:00.000-04:002004-04-09T00:56:28.483-04:00

i hate to beat a dead horse's skeletal remains, but what the fuck is this. i cant pretend i dont like it. that saucy mustache. those marine muttons. a surreal underwater concert: snorkel mask included. that damn song is growing on me like a virulent rash. i enjoy both livestock, and mustaches. so i cant not appreciate a creation that serves me equal and generous portions of each. and a

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1081408378079165352004-04-08T02:37:00.000-04:002004-04-08T03:16:45.920-04:00

'at night i wake up with the sheets soakin wet, and a freight train runnin through the middle of my head...' ~bruce the springsteen at least that motherfucker can sleep. im tired all the fucking time. but this tiredness never seems to prompt any essential, life-nourishing rest. i dont really like going to sleep. once im all up in it, snoring and drooling, all is well. if im in a zone of

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1081307735387107112004-04-06T22:16:00.000-04:002004-04-06T23:19:21.576-04:00

menage et trois. 21. dont speak, write, or morse code me for more than 4 months, then roll into town, come to my workplace, and strike a pose at the end of the bar as though all is well, for hours. 22. dont be afraid to stay in town for like, 5 days, on account of some 'conference' you have to attend. 23. whatever, dude. 24. leave bizarre messages on my answering machine at 2am. yeah, i

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1080880269168964102004-04-01T23:01:00.000-05:002004-04-01T23:36:18.903-05:00

part deux. 11. let out that rancid fart you were holding in, and then fail to warn me, on the off chance i might not notice. 12. have the balls to get pissed when i light a match. or six. 13. play tetris on your game-boy while taking a crap, instead of concentrating on hurrying the fuck up because im about to have an ass-plosion. 14. complain about your butt falling asleep, cause you were so

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1080809133502575442004-04-01T03:16:00.000-05:002004-04-01T03:49:11.310-05:00

or, ways to incite me to eat your face off. 1. learn my name for the sole purpose of repeating it ad nauseum, until you get your drink. 2. make me run your stupid fucking credit card for $3.29. and then come back ten minutes later thinking i will joyfully run it again. 3. tipping? is that a city in china? 4. "so...when are you gonna get a real job?" 5. "so...english...what are you gonna do

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1080400732044848582004-03-27T10:08:00.000-05:002004-03-27T10:23:38.810-05:00

modest mouse, i love you, and all your idiosyncratic, barren, delicious guitar renderings. but dudes. what's up with the new single. you are making me cry. right now. swear to god. 'float on', might be one of the best examples of what i was bitching about yesterday. take a really decent band. add an ass-fucking producer. presto=crap. 'float on' out of my life mo-mo. and take all your

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1080333745794512452004-03-26T15:23:00.000-05:002004-03-26T15:45:56.263-05:00

or nothing like it. lately, the planetary bodies orbiting my mortal coil have been sporadic and random, as pertaining to my inability to predict, with any accuracy, what they will do next. each day is a new and interesting study on what will cause me to soil myself. i am ill at ease.

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6271420.post-1080242042758677682004-03-25T14:08:00.000-05:002004-03-25T15:27:19.060-05:00

to sex, drugs, and rock-n-roll, now we just have AIDS, crack, and techno... ~laughing colors or, people used to make records as in a record of an event the event of people playing music in a room now everything is cross-marketing its about sunglasses and shoes or guns and drugs you choose. ~ani difranco dear music industry dudes, there are way too fucking many 'artists' that need to be

ledusenoreply@blogger.com0