Author: jae

went to Columbus today to see my grandfather’s 2nd cousin. hung out on High Street for a while. i used to get records there on occasion. High Street used to be the heppest place on earf, but i’m not sure now. i mean, it’s still cool and all, but i couldn’t find Mongolia_[sic] Thunderpussy. i did find the Singing Dog, though, and completely by accident. that was the only place i ever found that first Posies tape (the one with them on the back with really big hair looking like they just came out of a Cure show). almost got an Afghan Whigs EP i’ve been wanting ever since my trip with Tony & Trav to N’awlins. But instead i picked up

• Melvins- Houdini
• Tom Waits- Mule Variations
• Alanis Morrissette- Supposed Former Infatuation Junkie (back off, muthafucka- Alanis rawks, ai’ight?)
• Soundtrack- The Crow (I)

okay, so i used to own two of those, so i guess i wasn’t real adventurous, but hey. at least i didn’t pick up any goddamn late-period Aerosmith. almost picked up Soundgarden, too, and Marillion.

“i’m-a whittle yew inta kindlin’…” -T. Waits

yesterday afternoon i saw a huge crow outside my window. now what the hell could that mean? no doubt something else bad is going to happen. no, i’m not superstitious. When you believe in things/that you don’t understand/Then you suffer/Superstition ain’t the way

and i’m having a really lousy time of it with the PHP. i installed Apache and PHP yesterday and i followed the directions precisely, but i couldn’t get the php info screen up on my test page. then, just for a laugh i suppose, i went to the root directory on Apache and the default index page was in French, even though i have English set up as higher priority.

so it looks like i won’t be able to add shopping cart functionality to any sites after all. bugger all, i really needed that desperately for the reunion site, too.

Take the Which Beatle Are You? Quiz.

neener neener.

just plain cool. Swank Ivy. check out her pranks page. my gawd!

god damn. why do i love people? i just can’t figure it out; they disappoint me every time. i am certain it all boils down to me disappointing them, though. and god damn, i hate disappointing the people i love.

what a wonderful cycle i live in.

fuck your maya. your world of unrealities and lies. fuck your world of white picket fences and dogs named “Scooter” in the back yard under a cute little roof of his own that’s decorated with miniature potted plants and his own stupid little god damned white picket fence. fuck your insanity, your bullshit, and your play-acted happiness. fuck your lawnmower, too. and your perfect little spouse, and your job that you couldn’t be happier with until you hit the big 4-0 and realize that your entire life has been one long, ugly waking dream. i hope you and your friends are happy when you’re forty and your little picket fences start turning into cages for you. and when the smell of death enters into your well-cleaned bedroom, i hope that you have enough lysol and karaoke and Wheel of Fortune reruns and convertible Lexii and SUVs and french fries and that really nice bottled water and luxury and stock portfolios and maids with clever little accents (you have no idea what they’re REALLY saying behind you back, ha!) and a Palm Pilot that says “Hello, Buddy!” whenever you flick the fucker on and a case of champagne in the garage for those otherwise-awkward dinner parties, to keep it at bay.
i am through with this god damned shitfucking nonsense!

Jackie Corley is at it again, this time with a brand-spankin’-new domain name!

got damn, i just love that sistah! woo-ha! this is america…

whee-ha! thelovingscares.com! a site i made for my dear friend Tony, for his birthday! (shh! it’s not ’til tuesday, but i just sent him an early “invitation,” heh heh.)

Send him an e-mail (on the 15th) to say happy birthday!

for an even more intimate look into the startlingly shallow depths of my soul, visit my LiveJournal page.

now with 50% more funk.

(note: you won’t get the Really Good Stuff unless you sign up with LJ and get in tight with me.)

whee-ha!! how ya like the new look? i finely figgered it out!

i made less than fifty fucking cents on mp3.com for the month of december. (it costs me $20/month)

i didn’t get even slightly drunk for new year’s eve.

and i think i missed a very important phone call from a really cool chick tonite.

i am god damn going to bust something fucking open.

what? yeah, fuck you, too.

i made less than fifty fucking cents on mp3.com for the month of december. (it costs me $20/month)
i didn’t get even slightly drunk for new year’s eve.
and i think i missed a very important phone call from a really cool chick tonite.
i am god damn going to bust something fucking open.

what? yeah, fuck you, too.

well… i called Cat up and told her i wasn’t coming over.

first, i just don’t need complications, even if they are awfully sexy ones.

second, i don’t want to leave my grandpa home alone on New Year’s. he went and got shrimp (and it looks like a case of JWD Honey Brown, too).

yee.

haw.

i sure hope Malinda has a good time at werk tonite somehow. and that she never ends up in a gutter!

and i hope that nothing bad happens in the Werld tonite.

“wake me up when things get started/
when everything starts to happen” -TFF

so yesterday i had a great chat with my special new friend Malinda. i think it was something like 5 hours long or more… really fulfilling, though. i haven’t IM’d for that long in a while.

and, as it turns out, while i was whiling the night away with a certified genius, my old pal/absent lover Cassandra* was trying to get hold of me. she sent me an e-mail complaining about her fiancee, and 4 drunken voicemails (oh, fer chrissake… i do not need this). she was blaring Tears for Fears (Songs from the Big Chair) (an album she knows well that i’ve been listening to a lot lately) and talking about how she was thinking of me. four long, drunken voicemails of this. the kind where the person puts the phone up to the speaker and lets the song do all the work. you know? intense.

a few weeks ago, i went over to their apartment. her and i went out and had a few drinks. she commenced to flirting with me, even grabbed my ass. i hoped that it would just sort of chill out when Seth got home, but not really. she started playing with my hair right in front of him and his friend. i got pretty spooked about it, not wanting any trouble and all, and proceeded to bolt soonly.

*background on my relationship with Cat: we’ve known each other since we were little kids, and started actively hanging out in high school (i was a senior when she was a freshman). somewhere along the line we developed a unique (and frustrating) sexual tension. we never more than kissed, and that only once. just before i moved to florida (8 years ago), she was staying at my grandparents house in my room with me for a few days and she came on to me at least twice in those few days (once concerning showering and once re: sleeping arrangements). then after i moved, we didn’t see each other for a couple of years. when i saw her in May of ’95, we had a hug where she nervously said out loud (as if talking to herself), “I’ll kiss you tomorrow…” but we never did. so that’s what we’re like. destined to never actually hook up. and yet, now she’s starting this up again, and i really like her boyfriend Seth, he’s a great guy. but damn… y’know, i’ve loved her since we were teenagers, and when i finally broke down a couple of months ago and called her parents to find her, i was really ready to do something rash: if she wasn’t already involved, i was seriously considering asking her to marry me. and i am NOT the marrying type, neither.

oh, i really don’t need this. will i be evil? will i be good? who can tell, who can tell….

i started a new site for my pal Tony. it’s at lovingscares.transmothra.com.

i just saw Pootie Tang yesterday with my pal Cat. everyone should see it! it is so freakin’ hilarious! totally smart movie.

okay. i can tell already that the storyproject will be a little slow in starting up…

yesterday i changed the intro yet again. now there is more sound (a scream on click, diabolical laughter on rollover) and text. for those that don’t know what the new text means, it’s latin for “buyer beware!” on rollover and “the die is cast!” on click. plus a preloader that takes waaaaay too long to do anything. i’ll try to fix that tonite.

Malinda is really cool.

Damn, do i really know no guys (with websites i can link to, to "prove" that i know people at least) on the internet? ah, well… c’est tout bon!

wait, there’s Hicutus, but he’s not as purty, and St. D. doesn’t have a site yet.

Damn, i just realised that i need to post more links.

i distributed gifts today to my closest friends. 2 CDs (my own “i am…” EPs, which i introduced as “barely worth opening, really”) to Fred & Lisa, 2 CDs (same, same intro) to Greg & Maggie (who gave me a schwank U2 calendar and a single-volume (?!!) edition of C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia), 3 nutty books for Tony’s daughter Abigail Willow (5yo) (optical illusions, native american poems, and “The Worst Band in the World,” repleat with CD), and Stardust and Sandman: Fables and Reflections for Tony. i already gave Cat the Beatles 1 and the new Pink Floyd Echoes comp, and Seth got Death: the Time of Your Life i also gave my grandpa an electric wok, and my dad gets a 5″ TV, while his sugarmomma gets a vest. my uncle kent got an Amazon.com gift certificate, and Travis & Eirit got one, too. Erica, Ria, Melissa, Pawrl and Jason each got my newest CD in the mail (i hope!).

and now, i’m broke as a broke-dick dog. my car insurance will be due in a few days, too. oh well. fuck ’em. i got what i wanted. i spread a little cheer, if not much. so i feel worn out, but happy. kind of like a well-tipped whore, except i no money. ah, fuck it.

and this, the holiday i most love to hate. BAH! HUMBUG! i delivered everything today so nobody would have time to get me anything in return. Bah! Humbug! i don’t need this! x-mas is so rotten, but at least i get to feel good about getting my friends stuff. but i can still loathe it. i can’t wait until this x-mas is long over. in fact, fuck new year’s too. i never get to go out. nobody ever invites me anywhere. i never get properly drunk. well, not in the company of others. fuck holidays.

i feel sick.

shit. i just can’t seem to say enough good about Jackie Corley. she’s just such a phenomenal writer. listen:

you know something’s special real quickly. it doesn’t take much exposure. not much at all, when it’s something really done with love and soul and heart. with Jackie’s writing, you know it even sooner than that. like the first sentence. i swear when i read the words “You cry for Foster” for the first time, and for each time thereafter, i knew i was in for something i hadn’t bargained for. and the more i read, the deeper it got.

there are times when you just want to drop everythng and scream. for the love, the passion of it all. also the sickness, the blinding disgust you feel when you realise that nobody else is ever going to have the exact same experiences as you. ever, period. Foster O’Reilly, the story, and the character, made me want to drop everything and just scream.

that’s not to say it’s maddening. i mean, it is, but for all the right reasons. but there’s a joy underneath it, like crumbs under the kitchen tablecloth. there’s a real (and i mean REAL, god damn it) joie de vivre and an urgency toward the sacred preciousness of The Moment, a celebration of those things we can never have back again. it’s like hearing a silly kid’s nursery-rhyme song at a funeral: there’s a purity there that you just don’t usually get from ordinary day-to-day life (even though it’s really there, it’s all over the place; just hidden from view).

but the point i wanted to make is that this kid really has it. (i’m sorry, Jackie, for using the ‘k’ word and all, but the maturity in your writing is way beyond what most people are capable of at 39 years of age, let alone 19, fer chrissakes!) she’s really got her own voice, and that’s a big damn deal in an unoriginal and mediocre era. a fresh voice at that, and full of substance – real substance. i don’t know where she gets it from, but i love it. if she isn’t published-so-much-she’s-jaded by this time two years from now, then this world is vastly more fucked up than i thought it was. the world owes itself this one favor: to drink her writing in like the sweet nectar that it is, to celebrate it in excess. Jackie Corley is the Walt Whitman, the Ernest Hemingway, the J.D. Salinger and the Jack Kerouac of the twenty-first century. period.

i have launched storyproject, albeit nervously. i’m only nervous because i’m not sure how it will go, or even how often i’ll be able to update it. i divided it up into a collaborative section, and the main storyproject, plus a link to the poems, if anyone would rather read those instead. allow me to demonstrate for you how i cross my fingers: .Xm

so anyways, e-mail me if you wanna join in the fray on the collaborative project. just keep it real. all i ask.

i changed the look up in dis mu’vuggah. hope this is more readable…