You are viewing the most recent 13 entries.
11th June 2004
His name was Robert Paulsen
Hi, my name is Arthur. :
I am a figment of Robert C F Clark's fertile imagination.
As fertile as the plains of Africa from days long past.
The fertile crescent between his mighty legs, a trap waiting to ensnare any unlucky enough to wander within.
I yam what I yam.
12th May 2004
Word on the street is that tricks are for kids...
So hey guess what? I met this great girl! she's everything i've ever wanted in a girl = interesting, funny, brilliant, arresting beauty, EVERYTHING. :
wow, things seem like they could really turn around!
huh? what's that you say? she's WHAT?!
LEAVING?! THIS MONTH?!
23rd March 2004
"hi. do you have any applications?"
i was fired from my job at the gayest flower shop in the universe (sour grapes?). another nail in the coffin. :
my boss became different out of nowhere. mean. moody. i blame her husband, black beauty.
8th March 2004
i wouldn't be able to sleep if the Sandman popped out of the cold, thin air and ejaculated all over my grotesque ass-face. i've started writing shit poetry again like i did in shit high school. :
TEENAGE ASSHOLE CHECKLIST:
walk with slouch? check.
scowl at random people? check.
write lame thoughts in shitty composition notebook? check.
have friends that don't give a fuck and, despite being in a scene that supposedly abhors insincerity, stab me in the back and ignore me? check.
complain about the most trivial shit even though i live in a territory of the most powerful nation in history? check.
suck anyone's dick whom i think can advance me in this temporary and meaningless society? double-check.
constantly say 'everyone sucks' when i really mean one or two people that i know? check.
have a negative view of almost everyone and everything outside of 'the scene' because this helps to simplify my life, therefore rendering it understandable? check.
use pseudo-intellectual mumbo jumbo in everyday speech, even though i don't know what the FUCK i'm talking about? check.
read books (inferno, 1984, catch 22, etc.), just to brag about reading them? check.
masturbate constantly and act awkward on purpose just to create and fulfill a martyr/victim complex? check.
waste time complaining about greasy teens by making fake, boring checklists? che- hey, fuck you!
Current Mood: spaghetti
4th March 2004
The Moody School
I was just thinking about human instincts and how, what we call "society" is the vain attempt at deadening the vibrant, pulsing forces within us (an evolutionary hand-me-down). "Culture" is the name given to that which we feel we can replace our natural feelings with. :
"Instinct" is our old, bed-ridden father in the hospital, struggling for what may be his last breath. "Culture" is the name of the man who is boning our mother and teaching us lessons contradictory to what we feel we knew all along. Our collective consciousness, or our Soul could act as mother.
"Society" is the awkward, painful sex between this strange man and she, which we witness through the crack in the upstairs bedroom door on our way downstairs to get a glass of water from the kitchen. Violence and revolution is the vomit spewing forth uncontrollably from our mouths upon realization of the true nature of this disgusting, parasitic relationship.
2nd March 2004
True Love Waits
I'm at work at the moment, listening to the Pixies (Doolittle). My boss is really cool. She's an old Filipina lady and, when it's not busy I can play my CD's. When there's no one in the shop, and if I've finished arranging the flowers and sweeping, I can go online, like right now. :
A minute ago, I read a couple of my previous entries. Man, I feel bad for being weird. Needed to blow off some steam though, I think. I don't feel so bad anymore...um, I really don't feel anything right now. Kind of numb. Is that bad?
Maybe I'll marry my 60-year-old boss. She's sorta lost a lot of her teeth. When they're all gone, she can give me head with her gums and I'll call her my little gummy bear. Of course, as a gentleman, it'll be my duty to toss her salads. This torrid affair will continue until her old Black husband(this is true) finds out, blows me away with his shotgun and sweeps my thin, broken, white corpse out the door onto the street with the very broom I had once used. Concerned with "tha po-lice," as he puts it, he'll drag me back in. Rigor mortis has now set in.
Using me as a mattress, he ravages his little wife with his colossal manhood, breaking my frail body further beneath the weight of his sexuality. He pumps her and pumps her until she has cum out of her ears. Every thrust of his massive lumber displaces all the cum inside her from before (like a fat man jumping into a full bath tub).
Realizing that his wife's earthly coil had been insufficient in the wake of the schlong-beating he's just dished out, he takes us out (cut into small chunks fit for a black trash bag) to the dumpster behind the shop. There my 60-year-old Filipina and I will decompose into each other, finally becoming one, for all time thereafter.
To answer your question: Yes, it's really slow right now.
Current Mood: Feeling slightly better
Ahhhh, goddamn it!! I called her back, asking for more of an explanation, she said,"blahblah girls always flirting with you at work blahblah" among other things. :
WHAT?! That one time she saw some girl and her friends smile at me?!FUCK THOSE FAT BITCHES!! They were probably thinking about cheeseburgers and then looked at me by chaaaaaance!! Dumped over a cheeseburger? This is grounds for a lynching, goddamn it!
Two man enter, one man leave
One shot, one kill
Seriously, first she lets ME go...then right on to starring in scat porn and Tijuana donkey shows.
How did I know this was gonna happen? God. Honestly, this hurts.
Lisa, if you can hear me: I'M HIGH!! FUCK YO' COUCH!! LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THE DARKNESS. DARKNESS EVERYBODY...I THOUGHT I was in love wi....blegh...
Ugh. I went for a drive to cool off, right? I'm waiting at the stoplight next to Oka Pay-less turning left, coming from the hospital. I'm thinking thinking thinking (what else?). And then it was like a dream. You know when your alarm goes off or a telephone rings while you're sleeping and it becomes part of the dream? It was like that. I was at the light, noticing how it looks so much better when it's green. And thinking that all the funny noises behind me sound like weird music. What the hell? I shake it off and realize the light's green and the "music" is all the cars behind me honking their balls off. The second I move, the light turns orange and then red again. I split, leaving all the homicidal (homosexual?) drivers behind me. It was STRANGE. For a minute there, I was purely in space. Motherfuckin Han SOLO from now on.
Women are trouble. TROUBLE!
1st March 2004
Over the telephone? Goddamn it, the TELEPHONE???!!!
Hey, remember my "wonderful girlfriend" who lights up my life? Well I guess she wants to light up some other son of a bitch's life, cos she "needs some space." :
What the fuck does that even mean? You need space? Sign up for NASA goddamn it!
AHHHHH!!! Save me, Jesus!!! Save me!!!!! Fuck you, Jesus!!!!!!! Fuck you!!!!
Current Mood: "wonderful"
Flowers like supernovae
I was driving home from work last night, it was around 6 or 7. God, the sky! The sun was setting and the clouds were all purplish and dark against the pink background. Ahh...The best part was how, behind these purple ghosts in the atmosphere, the sky had all these funky grooves in it. Just like a record. Lines and patterns. Living on this planet all our lives makes us forget how alien things seem to look sometimes. Like when you're driving down a road alone and pretend you're in Italy or Spain or something. I was the only human on an extraterrestrial globe, on my way to language classes to help me fit in with the natives. They speak using a combo of gestures and verbal communication, depending on the subject and/or importance of the audience...I could go on forever... :
Current Mood: groovy
29th February 2004
Today started off on the wrong note, I think. Put simply, women act weird. And awkward, sometimes. I was telling my co-worker Lando about it, how I felt like a plastic spoon melting, curling into itself in the flame. He gave me the usual advice, "Get over it." I just thought it was weird that I could still feel this way. After all, I DO have a wonderful girlfriend, but having a customer (I work at a flower shop) roll her eyes at me as if I'm "checking her out" makes me feel gross. I shouldn't care. Ugh. Sometimes when I make a joke just to ease the tension of everyday interaction, women take it as a come-on or something. I REALLY hate it when the fat/ugly/three-legged ones do that. Sorry, I had to say it. :
Bertha, this means YOU.
Current Mood: Still sleepy
28th February 2004
Dinosaurs roaming the Earth
...and then I said,"rectum? Damn near killed him!" :
I looked up and realized that no one else was there.