heh...we just had that party. I thoroughly enjoy attempting to type when I'm drunk. only a handful of people showed up, but it was a good handful.

cassie called. love cassie. love ali too; she's now MANAGER AT HER THEATER! might marry ali, except for cheesecake who I talk about in a minute.

why does bedroom smell like sweat? no sweat here.

no cheesecake, either. cheesecake is at the beach. in love with cheesecake? perhaps. debacle a thing of the past...infatuation not so. never been in love before, methinks. not in love now, either. being silly.

but josh made the best guacamole ever. stroh's isn't bad beer; had several. face is numb like from botox injections. oh, and the head! the head lolls like a proverbial bladder on a stick.

plan to sleep until monday afternoon. but first the shining is on tnt. whee!!!!!!!!!!!!

You are YOU CAN'T DO THAT ON TELEVISION.
Sometimes, you wonder why you couldn't just be
Canadian. Some people say you are weird. You
have an interesting sense of humor and a
meaningless life. But, you're nearly Canadian,
so did you expect better?


Which old school Nickelodeon show are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

more international espionage should center around reels of microfilm. you don't hear enough anymore about government secrets, etc. being recorded on microfilm and stolen and/or smuggled.

annoyance at work last night: departmental meeting in everyone got chewed a new asshole in a very judge-judy-like fashion. when I think of the field day an industrial psychologist could have at my office. treating employees as people is not a new and revolutionary concept.

dammit, pitt, respond to my e-mail! I'm gonna have to call those bitches up. my future hangs in the balance here.

question for the masses: cutting a totino's crisp crust party pizza. four slices or six?

weight: a bit too much, probably
cigarettes: 4
alcohol units: 1--currently in progress
(am currently reading/enamored by bridget jones: the edge of reason, heh)

good weekend. afternoon at concord mills more than enough to make the cheesecake debacle a thing of the past (bangs no longer being subjected to molding wax). spent only a sensible couple hundred and got several great things. then to the movies in charlotte. I will get around to doing a review of it, but for now let me say GO SEE THE DREAMERS!

visit with 'rents good on sunday. take note: villarosa now sells their marinara sauce by the jar. mmm.

party in 4109 this saturday! here's hoping that guests are plentiful and (relatively) well behaved.

have been filming and writing a lot lately. some decent ideas; no great footage. at least not yet.

off to gobble candy and watch telly.

here comes the pissed off rant.

so, hello! cheesecake IS a damn breeder after all; this time it's straight from the horse's mouth and not based on some obnoxious grapevine gossip (I think mentioning that one lives with one's girlfriend is pretty strong evidence). I could kill scott for getting that started, and that goes double for michelle for passing it along AND encouraging me in pursuit! I should matchstick her buick's tires for that. I estimate that only about 15 people in the office are NOT laboring under the delusion that he's a poof, thanks to their efforts. but do I feel sorry for him? no! I won't tell anyone otherwise unless I'm asked. he's got some nerve being straight; let the whole world think he's a 'mo. I hope guys drive him nuts hitting on him. wait, no I don't. one wink and he's ahead of me (getting hit on by nasty express men salesmen doesn't count). and let's face it, he's probably ahead of me anyway. he's dangerous to homosexuals, that one. he's a siren luring us to emotional downfall. he has to be stopped. dammit, that's it. I'm honestly starting to believe that I'm going to die single. or worse still, end up the downmarket houseboy of some lecherous old antique dealer. death first. no, shopping first. lots of comfort shopping, enough charge card swiping to melt it. I'm going out tomorrow and buying enough new clothes to send an elephant down armani's catwalk. I may seethe with rage, and I may nurse my bruised-but-certainly-not-broken heart for a few days, but I'm going to look good doing it. and look good for myself, not spending absurd amounts of time exfoliating and shaping my bangs to impress that dumb awful...dumb awful...person (not that I, hem, ever did that)!

eat it.

(sorry about that, but I had invested a good bit of emotion in the situation and needed to vent. ah, feeling better!)

had a picnic in the park today, just me and some bruegger's and patricia highsmith (well, she's dead actually, but one of her books). this beautiful weather is too incredible.

I've developed a really nervous stomach lately. consequently, I'm not eating enough. as a result, I stay shaky about half the time. I just bought a shitload of zantac, and hopefully that'll quiet things down. I'm also not sleeping much, though--shoots my concentration all to hell. in a nutshell, I feel a little unglued of late.

upcoming visit from the 'rents on sunday. saturday night I'm tempted to drive to chapel hill to go to the movies again. the dreamers has finally opened!!! but I don't want to go alone, so in all likelihood it'll be a slow couple days. nothin wrong with that...I suppose.

circle up, y'all. cheesecake update.

he is. naturally, so am I. and he knows that I am, but doesn't know that I know that he knows. and I'm not sure whether he knows that I know that he is. I seem to be very much in the know, except that I don't know what to do now. given my timidity in these matters--and the ever growing attraction--it's best to hope that he makes a move, does something detestable, or gets fired as soon as possible. given the situation and the workplace, anything is plausible. needless to say, the warm weather is making things that much more difficult, as it's kept him from wearing that absurd scarf.

but no more about that until new developments occur. and speaking of new developments, there really isn't anything else. guess I'll go eat leftover mexican food.

roads melted. went into work after all. rather tired. situation with mister cheesecake still unresolved.

(since this was such a short post I was going to write it in the form of a telegram, but in researching I found that at no time have telegrams actually used the word "STOP" to separate anything in print. that's unfortunate; I always thought they did.)

it's the apocalypse. they actually let us go home early at work. but then, it is truly a blizzard out there--even by my mountaineer's standards. it is beautiful, but if it doesn't melt a bit I'm going to stun everyone by not going to work tomorrow. I saw too many people sliding into ditches. so there.

time to celebrate the evening with some cheezy movies.

I've been informed that my list of "arguments against gay marriage" is courtesy of the gator gay straight alliance. they seem to do a number of good works.

speaking of the gay, I must now recant on my statement about gentlemens' scarves, as the fellow (a co-worker) who inspired the comment is unfortunately growing on me. no puns, there.

but is he or isn't he?

arguments for:
1) an incredibly snazzy dresser.
2) his hairstyle must take at least ten minutes to get right.
3) a techie (top of the line cell phone, eagerness to discuss computers, and I dunno for sure but he oozes mac nerd).
4) loves cheesecake even though his "never turn out very well." and I quote.
5) seems much more comfortable in female company.
6) most importantly, drives a new vw jetta.

arguments against:
1) voice very masculine, no sign of lisp or nasality.
2) incredibly unsnazzy shoes, rather aged looking sneakers.
3) thumb-flicks his cigarettes (of the two methods used to remove ash from one's cigarette--the finger-tap and the thumb-flick--the finger-tap is most often seen in ladies, 'mos, and people who don't smoke regularly).
4) gestures and expressions tasteful and subdued; no histrionic hissy fits here.

so it seems that he is...but the vibe just isn't quite there. and I'm looking for it, believe me. but cheesecake and a jetta? I don't know why I even bother wondering. (disclaimer: any cheesecake-baking jetta-driving straight men reading this, don't be offended. but do give me your numbers.)

oh, for pete's sake.

You're Ulysses!

by James Joyce

Most people are convinced that you don't make any sense, but compared
to what else you could say, what you're saying now makes tons of sense. What people do
understand about you is your vulgarity, which has convinced people that you are at once
brilliant and repugnant. Meanwhile you are content to wander around aimlessly, taking in
the sights and sounds of the city. What you see is vast, almost limitless, and brings you
additional fame. When no one is looking, you dream of being a Greek folk hero.


Take the Book Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

why eating six krystal cheeseburgers is like hiring a high-class call girl: sure it's a great experience, but you still feel dirty and ashamed afterwards. and perhaps--at least in the case of the krystals--a little ill. blaarrggh.

weird esp moment of the day: woke up with "ahab the arab" stuck in my head. haven't heard that in a quite a while (not that I've missed it). it was on the radio when I drove home. it was maybe the fifth time I've ever heard it on the airwaves. and lemme tell you, there are reasons for that.

I just don't know if I could ever date anyone who wears a scarf and tucks it into his coat. y'know, in that formal looking way that guys do? looking back I realize that I've worn my scarf that way before. I never will again.

and while I'm on the subject, I find this funny.

to reiterate my stance pro-gay marriage--and just to share this tasty little bit of satire with everyone--I offer:

Twelve Arguments Against Gay Marriage

1. Homosexuality is not natural, much like eyeglasses, polyester, and birth control.

2. Heterosexual marriages are valid because they produce children. Infertile couples and old people can't legally get married because the world needs more children.

3. Obviously, gay parents will raise gay children, since straight parents only raise straight children.

4. Straight marriage will be less meaningful if gay marriage is allowed...since Britney Spears' 55-hour just-for-fun marriage was meaningful.

5. Heterosexual marriage has been around a long time and hasn't changed at all; women are property, blacks can't marry whites, and divorce is illegal.

6. Gay marriage should be decided by people, not the courts, because the majority-elected legislatures, not courts, have historically protected the rights of minorities.

7. Gay marriage is not supported by religion. In a theocracy like ours, the values of one religion are imposed on the entire country. That's why we have only one religion in America.

8. Gay marriage will encourage people to be gay, in the same way that hanging around tall people will make you tall.

9. Legalizing gay marriage will open the door to all kinds of crazy behavior. People may even wish to marry their pets because a dog has legal standing and can sign a marriage contract.

10. Children can never succeed without a male and a female role model at home. That's why single parents are forbidden to raise children.

11. Gay marriage will change the foundation of society. Heterosexual marriage has been around for a long time, and we could never adapt to new social norms because we haven't adapted to things like cars or longer lifespans.

12. Civil unions, providing most of the same benefits as marriage with a different name are better, because a "seperate but equal" institution is always constitutional. Seperate schools for African-Americans worked just as well as seperate marriages for gays and lesbians will.

(oh, and I didn't write these myself. but whoever did deserves a medal.)

sometimes I'm so freakish. I went out today with the lofty goal of buying a DVD recorder. the wal-mart across the street was out. the wendover wal-mart was out. so what do I do? I drive to both high point and winston looking for the damn thing and couldn't find one. jeez, I could've called them first.

do you ever have days when everyone you encounter seems to be behaving in a socially unacceptable fashion? today I had to deal with people casually walking right up the middle of lee street (coliseum event or not, that's not okay), wal mart employees standing around and staring at me, and a sketchy random woman asking me for no earthly reason if I whiten my teeth--and then acting confused when I said no. she hadn't even seen my teeth. I'm never leaving the house again.

there's no reason to do a full fledged review of it, I don't think, but if you like suspense/horror/mystery films I can't recommend the changeling highly enough. they don't make 'em like that anymore. go rent it.

dude. they're totally putting self-checkouts in wal-mart. I don't know if I can handle this.

warning: semi-pessimistic discussion ahead. some lucky souls in the world are referred to as "born to do great things." often this phrase is used erroneously; the lifetime of a person is examined and the illogical conclusion is reached that their good deeds were "meant to be." in other, more esoteric circumstances, an elder (usually a religous person or one of the psychic bent) will insist that a young person--could be a newborn, one with a caul perhaps, heh--has a lofty destiny.

if people truly are born to do great things, it's only logical to assume that some others are born to do terrible things. but what if some people are just born into mediocrity? living life in a middle of the road, middle class (okay, I'll say it, bourgeois) fashion. doing well but not remarkably so. living a cookie cutter life that millions have led before.

accepting mediocrity is lazy. accepting ordained greatness is egotistical. I say screw fate or die trying.

(disclaimer: if political rants bore you, stop here.)

since that's out of the way, I feel the need to speak up about the recent flurry of gay marriages. lynch me if you like, but I'm with barney frank on this one. I am in favor of gay marriage and you'd better believe it. but not this way. the situation in san francisco is coming across as more of a hostile spit in the eye of tradition than a rational chain of events. and it's one that's leaving a bad taste in legislative mouths.

people, the fma is nipping at our heels, and homosexuals are working against themselves by moving full speed ahead. it's all fine and good and idealistic to want to change the system through revolution. but in reality, in order to enact true and lasting change, the smart idea is to play it cool and go through the proper channels--at least in this situation.

now, anyone with any sense could challenge me by saying, "well, what about the civil rights movement? would african-americans have achieved their ends by lying around and allowing beaurocratic red tape to tie them down? there were sit-ins, boycotts, protests, all flying in the face of the white majority. are you saying that those were bad ideas?"

in answer: of course not. but what we have to realize is that we're not just challenging social norms here, we're going up against religious traditionalists to boot. think of the times that we live in. we have a largely conservative administration that led us through the wake of 9-11, an event that brought Christianity to the forefront of many american minds (not to mention many american leaders' mouths). during the clinton years this business would have ruffled fewer feathers, methinks, and I'd probably have been right there on the "pro-marriage-now" side of things.

for now, we can only hope that the days of dubya are numbered. and until such time as he bids the white house farewell, I cannot be in favor of any action that could force a decision on gay marriage. because that's what's happening, folks. the more we revel now, the more we push the fma toward reality. gather ye rosebuds while ye may...before the powers that be come along with their pruning shears.

finally my new ATM card came. bout friggin time. of course I'm too lazy to just go to the bank and cash a check, so I've been living off pocket change for a week.

although poverty drove me to create a fantastic culinary delight that I call frog stew (there are no frogs in it, and it's not stew; nevertheless it's called frog stew). add a little salsa to a can of hormel turkey chili with beans and start heating it. meanwhile, boil two blocks of ramen, but put the seasoning packets in the water first thing--I used chicken, but I doubt if it makes a helluva lot of difference. once done, drain it completely. get the biggest bowl you can find, dump chili and noodles in and mix well. and I kid you not, it is sooooooo good. and a ton of food for quite little cash.

today was thursday, and that's always a good thing. it's payday. the knowledge that I have only one day of work before a reprieve is nice. most importantly, though, the weekend is just around the corner--but I haven't yet fully realized that I don't have jack shit planned for the weekend. that always sinks in on friday.

speaking of work, at long last my madness has begun to wear off on my co-workers. I now have them shouting at a ceiling vent in the breakroom on a regular basis, they have become more prone to "losing all muscular control," and they completely understood my comparison of the office to a pac-man game.

new at petrified fountain: a couple thoughts on the baftas and reviews of the triplets of belleville and hollywood ending.

[here was typed a rant about snow making greensboro shut down, but what's the use in complaining anymore? at least it's pretty outside. hmmph.]

ali, you mentioned needing "a plan." I almost have one formulated. brace yourself...I'll get back to you with specifics soon.

I'm starting to become concerned that I have a lot of repressed anger. it's become common for me to have these upsetting dreams in which I blow up at someone over nothing. I just start yelling at everyone around me like a madman. better that than actually doing it, I suppose.

I've taken some of my speedy pills and am washing them down with some of Gate's finest brewage. objective: to wear myself out by cleaning frantically, relax in a hot tub, get up early to go to Tate Street and do character sketches for a few hours before work.

since no one's around to hear my amusing story:

I'm very particular about my toilette; it's one of the few areas in my life where I insist on absolute and unwavering routine. after showering I dry off, apply deodorant, brush my teeth, and begin to dress. I also choose a cologne and spray it on my chest exactly twice.

today, rather than spritzing with cologne, my addled mind took a breather and I liberally coated my rather hirsute torso with spray hair gel before I could realize that the bottle was entirely the wrong size, color, and shape.

although I rectified the situation immediately, I contemplated not doing so. for if I am caught outside in fifty mile-per-hour winds without my shirt later tonight, my chest may get somewhat rumpled now. oh, well. it's a chance I'll take.

southward ho.