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Friday, May 2nd, 2008
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4:57 pm - Art Walk Yesterday
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Cadie and I did the First Thursday art walk and saw a bunch of nifty shit - a lot of Salvador Dali , yeah, woodcut prints + lithography, some insanely sculpted+polished granite v glass, and a bunch of oh-really-wow shit.
The one work that I was able to appreciate on an artistic level was a piece in some gallery in the ground floor of Tashiro-Kaplan lofts - I think it was Soil... The work was an installation piece consisting of an astroturf floor and a partly-cloudy sky made of a blue base + white clouds. The sky was being held up by an 2-dimensional array of 100 metal bars that looked like they screwed together in the middle.
I'm all for apocalyptic messaging, but I can't quite remember what I was feeling yesterday. Something about a man-made approximation of the great outdoors being a cartoony and ultimately plastic version of the original - and constrictive, to boot. The defiant title seals the messaging - "The Sky Is Not Falling" - like a PSA from the federal government, assuring the citizens that the sky isn't falling, to enjoy their (totally derivative + restrictive) version of freedom and reality.
I liked it.
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| Thursday, May 1st, 2008
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4:47 pm - OH MY GOD EAST COAST 90'S RAP
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3:06 am - I Betrayed Someone At Warfish Today
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It was your regular 8-man free for all - with 9 territories.
As it goes in these games one guy got a hold of a territory. A pawn in the game, Gray, started trying to rally everyone against Blue, my enemy. I attacked Blue and broke his bonus - then he messaged me suggesting peace for now - plenty to kill till we fight later. I said nothing, but kept my forces to myself that round.
So began our armistice - him sending me messages on how to position my troops and so on, and I silently did my thing. Got a territory he straight up gave me - and as he drew more and more fire for being the aggressor in the game, I quietly scored another - starting no wars, simply cleaning up. That's 3 out of 9 if you're paying attention.
The latter part of the midgame came with the battle for my 4th territory and the death of my 4th opponent. I was creeping into the territory as I always have done this game - slowly pushing forward a wall so formidable it's best to simply attack weaker opponents. However, this round, Blue messages me - "I want this territory."
I moved my 40 units off the border and sat them on mine. Predictably he moved into the territory and completed it - leaving 3 measly units on his border. All the while I have been building up my borders, plain as day.
So it came to my turn, and I quite reluctantly slit his throat. The game yet might go to a player other than me, but this guy is done. His reserves are pathetic, and his income destroyed ( from matching me at 34 down to 8 ). His opponents, I'm hoping will attack him, but if they have half a brain they'll attack me... No matter. Endgame.
I feel guilty, even though I agreed to nothing. Blue is going to be mad, and that is what I feel bad about. Am I a traitor? I simply made my move at the most opportune time, and I am definitely against this guy now, rather than silently playing parallel...Seriously what do you think when you see 10, 15, 20, 25, 30, 40 troops build up on your border??? some people...
current music: DITC
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| Sunday, April 20th, 2008
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11:22 pm - Pain, Pleasure.
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This week flew by, lots of coding, need to code more. code more. lots of fun on the weekend also lots of crap. hence.
MACBOOK PRO(N)
My laptop that I recently purchased for a large sum of money and then promptly dented twice in bike accidents has ceased to function. The keyboard and the trackpad don't respond to my touch. Plugging a USB keyboard/mouse will make it work for the time being but that's uh, not quite a laptop now is't? I never use it I just use my stupid desktop. Last time I used the laptop was like last fuckin week when me and Cadie watched porn on it.
It's pretty cool, watching porn.
So today we went on a mission to return my Macbook Pro to the Apple Store so they'd Take It Away, Charge A Lot With A Smile, and keep them my Only Source To Salvation.
Fuck the Church I want to hammer a new list of rules on Their Fucking Door, but I Digress - I had to take the book 2 the store. So I walked inside and Made A Reservation and then went to J. Crew (next door) for all of 10 minutes, saw some really cute skirts and this nice argyle sweater vest (it was not a cardigan. it had holes for a head and arms) but nothing really for me, although the shopkeep was sporting a black-and-gray houndstooth vest which I thought was great (and saw nowhere in the store) went
back over to the apple store and this chick greets me - for the second, a completely new interaction as far as she is concerned - and checks me in for my goddamn appointment and i stand in line and this guy calls two names then calls me up -
"Hi Quinton! How ya doin? Hey, my name's Joe."
"Hey Joe, thanks. I'm Quinton."
"So what are we doing today?"
"Just some repairs. The keyboard won't work, neither will the mouse. Here, you can see, let me start it up - actually though I think we need to plug this in because it's drained its batteries..."
Joe plugs the power thing in and waits a moment.
"OK let's start her up... and ... oh!" and so quick he turns the computer around to show me - and the entire fucking store - a video of a post-coital couple, the girl slowly sucking on the guy's spent dick - and I am just like uh,, oh my god I, shit, shit, let me close that, ctrl-w, ctrl-w,ctrl-w,ctrl-w, god damnit the keyboard doesn't work ahhh close the lid, look around embarrassedly, the guy's like "ok all good to go?" FLIP "no! no! not yet! jesus!!!" and I have to restart the damn thing
then he shook my hand and called me by name, "Bye now........ Quinton!" at the end of the conversation and I just felt damn disgusting
( TEENAGE METAL PARTY )
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| Thursday, April 17th, 2008
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1:21 am - 2 Weekends Ago
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THURSDAY: Saw Thunderbird Motel at the Fun House, happy hour sushi at Red Fin, skipped Bonkers much to my chagrin, went home.
FRIDAY: Spent madly hacking on bullshit, got off at 9 to go eat shellfish with Cadie at Ivar's. I called and made reservations. Wow, man. Anyway. I like steamed clams. I don't care for raw oysters. My penis was not substantially supplemented, but maybe it's a delayed-delivery system.
SOUTHERN SHELLFISH PREPARATION: take (1) saltine. Take (1-2) shellfish depending on size, dip them in melted butter, preferably hot (hot), and place on the saltine. Dollop a serving (to taste) of cocktail sauce and squeeze a bit of lemon on the top. Eat in one bite.
SATURDAY: Went to hip hop open mic at Faire Gallery on Olive and Melrose. Saw a lot of young people and some decent rapping. Energetic in the room. Then off to Sun Liquor where we drank with Sarah Squared and some other people. Met this really obnoxious Californian. The bartender apparently cut him off and he thought that was bullshit, tried to get us all to pop over to the Summit Tavern. We said we would and then we didn't, went back to my house and smoked pot.
SUNDAY: Flammable at Re-Bar. Fucking sick.
MONDAY: A U T E C H R E . Massonix was not impressive. Rob Hall was. Good chatting had with Cadie + Matt Emmons. Autechre was unbelievable, though there was this big bullshit about me & Cadie getting separated and differing expectations on who would be where, blah blah couples drama.
WORK WORK WORK: Yea.
WARFISH WARFISH WARFISH: In a couple games right now, going to win one of them after precariously balancing my play. James is a hot-headed fool and fancies himself a Machiavellian genius, when really all his subterfuge is bullshit and anybody worth a damn can see right through it. Troop numbers, cards held: that is how you know a man's intentions. He gets under my skin because he lies straight to my (cyber) face. Observe:
JAMES (privately, to Quinton): Quinton, I intend to help you win. Don't tell anybody.
QUINTON FORTIFIES HIS BORDERS, BREAKS ONE OF JAMES' TERRITORIES AND PLACES 8 UNITS TO DEFEND IT
JAMES (privately, again): Never mind.
Like, what the fuck am I supposed to do, leave him alone because he has given his word that he wants me to win? If he wanted me to win why would he get pissed that I'm taking territories? It's such sophomoric bullshit. Anyway. This most recent game is on a Texas map and I am oh so happy at the outcome. I played slow and methodically - never pissing anybody off prematurely, as was Waldo's mistake - after grabbing a decent chunk of land I ceased expansion and concentrated on defending - already my troops are spread too thin to adequately resist invasion, but moreso than my opponents, whose troops number 1 across the board, ravaged by back and forth possessions powered by card trades. Finally Annie got weak enough that Waldo was tempted to make a card capture play, but, failing to run his numbers properly ( I knew he wouldn't be able to make it without ungodly luck ) he left himself open and her more than willing to retaliate - laying waste to his entire territory, until finally he did indeed capture the cards and start laying into Justin. I don't know why he didn't try to take me, but I think it had to do with inheriting Annie's territory and a need to defend it against Justin.
( About 600k worth of images )
MUHAHAHAHAHAH: I am a risk master. Also very lucky in that game - many incredible defenses that I had nothing to do with. Yes yes.
I must get on the bike back up the hill.
MAD LOVE: it's all yours.
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| Thursday, April 3rd, 2008
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5:11 pm
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LOADS OF DOPE TECHNO: We've got Underground Resistance, Submerge, KMS, Electrofunk Records (which is basically just a booty-house DJ Assault roundup) up at necodo.com. I want to make some Detroit-by-way-of-Seattle techno soul stuff. Man, sometimes I wish I was black, or gay, or on really hard drugs, preferably all of the above.
LOADS OF DOPE HIP HOP / OTHER SHIT: We've got anticon, Western Vinyl (on digital release, I had to snicker), Record Label Records (new guys but engaging, quality "experimental" music) up at necodo.com
BICYCLE CONTINUES TO EXPLODE OVER AND OVER AGAIN: So after my derailleur tried to murder me and I got it replaced, my pedal straight up fell the fuck off while I was riding it. I knew it was getting loose as I was riding it, but I figured I'd be able to make it home on it, then I'd tighten the bitch up... But No! Shit fell off while I was riding up Harvard like 2 blocks from my house. And whatever screw-thing that was keeping the pedal attached to the crank has VANISHED! What the hell. Did somebody sabotage my bike? My coworker? Did it just fall off in traffic? Very disturbing. Through riding my bike, I'm slowly burning off all the delicious fat that I accrued in my trip to SF, and I'd like to continue doing so but it seems the forces of the universe have decided I must work much harder at my bike if I am to uh, ride it.
A SUPERFICIAL PERIOD: not so much "superficial" as it is just me caring about my appearance and taking care of myself. I had the diet thing down before I left - but after reading American Psycho I am doing the whole uh... Regular washing, shaving, moisturizing, sunscreen thing. It really does make a difference! I know it sounds wierd that I'm emulating Bateman. I haven't tortured any dogs, fyi. It's been fun, even though my haircut is utter shit and I need a new one.
PARASITE FREE: I am parasite free!!! Being parasite-free is something akin to having regular bowel movements. You don't really understand how good you have it until you can't shit properly. That's why I thank God everytime I have a good shit. You, dear reader, should consider it a blessing that you don't have parasites.
I've written this post over the course of 3 days. Song of the day: Senses by Heath Brunner (KMS Records). I don't have any good links except for nuloop which is going to make you sign in if you want to hear the song. My coworker Grindle knows all about Detroit Techno - like, he partied wit Richie Hawtin, like Hawtin slept on his floor. That's pretty significant. So he knows a lot of the history and is able to educate me on the gospel. Hell yea, KMS Records. Uh, we have a lot of good music and I should probably get to hacking up the code to propagate that music 2 u. Much love,
Q
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| Monday, March 31st, 2008
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1:41 pm - Harvard & Denny
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I now live on Harvard and Denny, the heart of Capitol Hill. It is a one-bedroom, somewhere in the order of 500sq ft with adequate storage and a nice layout. Actually it's much like ![[info]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) girlscorpio's old apartment on Summit & Howell in layout. East facing windows.
The application process was easy, albeit long. The landlady has been fucked over a couple times, it seems, and she is taking measures to make sure that doesn't happen again. IE all applicants must not be felons, must not have been involved in a court matter for the past 2 years, must not blah blah blah to meet the MINIMUM requirements for residence. Then comes a credit check, apparently a simple pass/fail test, and finally a character review. Luckily I have good credit, and I am apparently a nice guy. She called Marquetta, of all people, to get a character reference. "Does he have anger issues?" "Does he do drugs?" "Does he owe you any money?"
This woman collects "Alice in Wonderland" commemorative plates as a hobby.
Moving took all day Sunday, one hour was completely my fault as I left my keys to my storage (aka my office) at home, so we had to go back an get them. Frustrating. But all the gear fit into the Whiskey Tango van like a charm and it only took 2 trips to get my minimal setup into my apartment, so that's something to be thankful for.
Finally now I can start cooking for myself again, leaving dirty dishes in the sink without fear of prospective homeowners coming in to find my mess, walking around naked with impunity and, someday, MAKE SOME SICK ASS BEATS!!!
Uh, so yay for new mailing addresses, yay for changing my mailing address with most of my important institutions, yay for 500GB USB 2.0 storage devices for $130, piss on Apple.
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| Wednesday, March 26th, 2008
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6:23 pm - San Francisco
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I have returned from my trip to San Francisco well-rested, parasite-free, better-dressed and ready-to-work. In my haste to leave, I left my office keys at home and couldn't get into the office, depriving me of all sorts of useful things - cell phone charger, trousers, shoes that aren't 8 years old. So that got the trip off to a bad start, but Cadie surprised me at the airport, darling that she is, and we hopped the BART to downtown SF, checked in to our fahhhhbulous hotel bought by my parents' timeshare monies - then up to Berkeley to grab her gear. That night we drank beer and ate nachos. Yum yum.
The next couple days were spent generally screwing around, went down to the Mission and did some shopping - I was on a shoe mission as I had no good shoes down there - but I also had no idea what style I wanted and how much I wanted to pay for them. Let me tell you - when shopping for shoes the most important thing to remember is they're just shoes. There will be more shoes, shoes in Seattle, shoes fall apart, fuck it if you don't like the shoes days later you can set them on fire for all I care. So it took me most of the trip before finally relenting at Macy's and picking up some decent-looking brown Calvin Klein calfskin square-toe dress shoes. And 3 days later and after getting a bit of water and having them stepped on by some dickhead at da club I feel great about them so there.
Met a couple of people from my past and present, including friends from the internet who are generally awesome if not extremely repressed homosexuals; friends from high school, all very successful but with wildly different self-esteem levels ranging from humble to completely self-absorbed. Went to Golden Gate Park, had sushi in the Castro; lots of time on Haight-Ashbury which is not exactly my favourite place in the world; clubbing in Soma - the walk from our hotel to the club area - up market street from, say, Market & Valencia to 6th street is FUCKED UP, SO FUCKED UP - and club 1 was stupid, just a club with pretty boys and girls, where are the real house heads oh wait there are none; had my friend Rachel up with her atomic posse, all ready to psychoanalyze at a moment's notice, either that or get stoned.
Right. Last time I saw this chick she was like, scared to drink because God wouldn't approve. Now she's like deeply scheming with her friends to GET STONED OUTSIDE OUR HOTEL. Which, to me, isn't that big of a deal. But apparently if you are to smoke pot in your car in LA, you must have your map out AND have the engine idling to give the appearance that we are just simple tourists looking for directions... please. Cute, but unnecessary. But man, wow, I don't get stoned like that anymore, and these are all LA-based school teachers. Apparently you need drugs to take the edge off of wrangling hellions all day long, I don't doubt it - notice I didn't go anywhere near Education in my uh, education.
Also read American Psycho over the trip - which is a fantastic book, while deeply disturbing at the same time - finished it last night and started taking notes on it today. Not like I'll actually write anything about it, but it kinda makes me want to join a book club. Reading books makes you smart and you have things to talk about. That is pretty cool.
And a bunch of other shit happened, and I survived. Oh I got a really good deal on sweaters at united colors of benetton. Seriously, 4 sweaters for $140. I got 2 wool sweaters, gray and black, and then 2 cottons, a deep red and a kick ass fruity argyle sweater. I also picked up a beautiful purple cotton sweater at Zara, though I would have liked to buy more, I found I was not really enjoying Zara as I previously had... Hm.
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| Monday, March 10th, 2008
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6:39 pm - Sunday
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BEING WOKEN UP AT 2PM BY PROSPECTIVE BUYERS OF MY BOSS'S CONDO: I'm sure they enjoyed my sleepy murmings as I insist they come in and check out the place. Oh, my, can we get any more awkward?
DRIVING A SCOOTER: I love scooters.
MY EXPENSIVE STUDIO GEAR HAS BEEN FUCKED UP BY A DRUNK PUNK: After driving a scooter to my friend's house I learn that his roommate (also friend of mine) came home wasted, generally caused Trouble For Everyone... In my case he somehow zeroed in on my Mackie HR824 studio monitors that were still in their boxes and smashed the casing on one of them... His apology is "I wish I could tell you what happened...sorry."
Life throws you curveballs. Some people fall off bikes and dent their laptop up to shit. Other people try spinning at -40F only to have their vinyl irreplacably ruined. I've dealt with destruction of personal property before, but it's kinda always been my bad... Now I am tasked with Making This Right; even though Mike really should, it doesn't seem likely that he'll move on it any faster than I do. I'm not even using them right now and won't have an opportunity for the next month, but I know that next month I would REALLY like those to be in working condition.
I think what I'd like is to see if I can get them repaired and certified (to refurbished level - even though I don't know how much he fucked up my other speaker I want them both checked out) on his dime. So tomorrow I guess I'm gonna call Mackie and find out their rates for that kind of shit. Silver lining: at least they're based out of Seattle!
DANCING TO HOUSE MUSIC: Re-Bar was kickin' last night, I took Amanda P. out and she had a good time... I've been there previously and it's been a little quiet - got busy around 1AM but generally I'm looking for a way home, at that point... 2 differences this night:
1. I don't live in Ravenna, I like like 5 blocks from Re-Bar and I can stumble home whenever the fuck I want
2. It was kickin' at Re-Bar yesterday... Ah man, we turned the corner to see all the people standing around smoking, and I knew, oh I knew. Cute door girl gave me discount AGAIN, yay cute door girl! Then I rocked my body for a little under 2 hours... God damn so much fun... Can't explain in...
FUCKED UP SLEEP SCHEDULE: I've been sleeping from 6 to noon every day. Somebody, help.
MULTIPLE ALASKANS COMING AN EXPECTING TO CRASH: I've got a social collision happening, 2 people expecting to stay at my boss's condo with me. While this is OK, I need bedsheets to accommodate them. Or a second sleeping bag. Ahh transients.
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| Sunday, March 9th, 2008
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3:22 am - ENERGY!
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just got back dancing
have a bit of um ENERGY ringing in mah fuckin ears! heheh. Derek Plasliko? Banging Ass Techno, Chicago House Shit. Rocking... Can't wait to go out to house tomorrow, better dancers. hahaha.
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| Saturday, March 8th, 2008
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4:34 pm - life
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PARASITIC INFESTATION: I am 95% sure they're dead. Aside from the residual itching, the chapter is over.
WHERE I SLEEP AT NIGHT: We moved out of our slum shack, falling apart fucked up nightmare house last weekend. It was a grueling affair leaving me soured on life, all the crap we carry with us, and dependence upon vehicles. I am now staying at my boss's American Psycho-inspired condo on Capitol Hill, which is pretty bumpin'. I'm supposed to keep it spic and creepy-span because he's trying to sell it. ANd generally not be a nuisance to my neighbors, I'm sure they'd appreciate that...
So of course, this happens: I was hungry and tired, no cooking kit with me, so I'm like, "fuck it, I'll just make a frozen pizza." Now I felt very bad making a frozen pizza in a kitchen that should be preparing grilled salmon with wild rice and unicorn testicles, but whatever. So I pre-heated the oven, smoked a spliff, then opened up the oven to pop in the 'za - and what's there but this PLASTIC COLANDER THING!
"Fuck!" I say. "The fumes!"
So I rushed to open a window and let out the toxic fumes that are surely polluting my mind, when the fucking fire alarm starts going off at 1AM. The phone next to the fire marshall's bed rings once before his sure hand firmly grasps it, "Where?" he asks; a Black Hawk based in the Olympics is loaded with 500 cubic meters of water - "Godspeed," says the deck crew; so on and so forth. Here I am cursing quietly, jumping up and down (also quietly) to try to hit a button, any button on the fire alarms to shut it up, "shit! shit! shut up!"
I think I hit one and then the other one started going off, back and forth back and forth. Finally they shut up.
[GOD FUCK I JUST HAD THE MOST INSANE ALLERGY ATTACK EVER: fucking nose is going haywire]
Then again I forgot that I turned my alarm clock on but didn't set the alarm, so on Wednesday my alarm went off from Midnight to 12:10 when I happened to show up.
Otherwise it is a cool place. Makes me have hope for Cap Hill residential west of Broadway. North of Denny is very sleepy. I just walked around and found quite a few places, though nobody could be bothered to pick up they fones. "Hello, this is Quinton Harris, I'm interested in the 1 bedroom at 712 Belmont..."
HEADING TO SF THIS WEEK: And I can't wait. I want to charter a sailboat for a bit, go do some shopping, get some nifty shoes, see all the art there is to see - GO DANCING!!! Can't wait... OH man and now I just watched some "house dancing" vids on youtube.
PEOPLE ARE BEAUTIFUL: I've been peoplewatching now that I live on Capitol Hill again. I watched a couple duck into the entryway of the apt building across the street. They sat down, started preparing something - I thought it was a joint, coulda been anything... One guy walks by and they get all "oh just sitting here at 2AM on Tuesday don't mind us, no..." Wait until he's outta sight and get back to it. Then they do whatever they do - shoot, snort, something... And hug, and make out for like a minute, obviously blissed out. Then they walk up the stairwell and go inside.
Why did they do all that on the street? I don't know, but I'm glad they did, it was fun to watch.
Then I was on the 11 going up the hill from Pioneer Square, and just talked with a dude. The guy clearly wanted somebody to talk to, talking to the bus at first, then he started talking to me - I was expecting he'd hit me up for change, or whatever, but it was a really fascinating interaction.
"You been clubbin' tonight?"
"Nah, just workin."
"Oh you a bartender?"
"No."
And up went his hands with an expression like, "ok, that's private, never mind." I was actually expecting the "what do you do then," but I was struck by that action. Why didn't I just flat out say "I'm a programmer" ? Why was I in interview mode? Fascinating. I really love talking to people.
Over the past year I've learned to walk differently, too. Not in the way my body moves, but how my head is positioned and where my eyes go. When I first moved here I of course wanted to NOD AT EVERYONE, everyone except the hot chicks of course, because the way you score chicks is to pretend like they don't exist. Or so I thought at the time. Then I didn't look at anyone, but made little fleeting glances when they weren't looking directly at me. Now I look at people in this fashion: scope em out down the street, full on. If they're worth looking at I'll go for eye contact around 10 paces away, and if not just look straight ahead.
I was reading a while ago on one of those don-juan websites, all about eye contact and chicks locking on with you. It's powerful stuff. You look a [potential mate] in the eye and they will more often than not lock onto you, half staredown, half trance. Fascinating that stuff. Sometimes I do it full on like a damn dog, othertimes my head actually turns, nervously, but I keep my eyes locked, but I feel it's weak as I position my head to be looking out of the corner of my eye. Eye contact. Is so incredible.
Anyway tonight I am going dancing at Re-Bar to some fuggin' TECHNO, I want to go tomorrow to some fuggin' HOUSE, let's see what the techno party is like though, I ain't never been to a real techno party.
I wanna go to Shelter in NYC.
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| Tuesday, February 26th, 2008
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10:17 pm - Slow Chord
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Well, I don't know if they're dead. I cleaned everything, I washed everything. I still itch. Now it's normal to itch for days after treatment... I can't help but be paranoid. Is this a new burrow I spy? What is this bump? Why do my legs itch like fucking crazy? STOP SCRATCHING!!!
Been going out a lot, been spending a lot of money. Which is fine, nothing too crazy, but definitely my per-diem which means no savings. I like saving, it makes me feel good. I have been having a blast, too. Money is meant to be spent. Just some nagging thing in the back tells me to stop and save.
18 days till I see my love. I spoke with her today and she complained about her pill-popping half sister getting too fucked up on prescription meds to drive her to the train station, so she had to catch a bus. Basically a worthless person that half-sister. But to hear Cadie so rared up hahahaha so not the peace and love child that she normally is... it was great. Maybe I'm horrible for saying that, but it was great :)
Generally I am again consumed with this itch and annoyed, I am considering doing another application of the goop just to be fucking sure... fuck these bugs...
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| Thursday, February 21st, 2008
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3:34 pm - 5% Permethrin
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Currently slaughtering all the fuckers in my hands - I envision they're all screaming right now, something akin to the agony at Alderaan. Permethrin is a neurotoxin that effects neuron membranes by prolonging sodium channel interaction... I wish I could talk to one, right now. I would savor it, savor their torture as they have tortured me.
ACT III, SCENE I: A SMALL BASEMENT ROOM
THE DOOR BURSTS OPEN AS DEBBIE II IS PUSHED IN BY QUINTON'S GOONS. THE GOONS SIT DEBBIE II DOWN IN ONE OF THE CHAIRS. DEBBIE II IS NOT RESISTING. THE GOONS LEAVE AND QUINTON ENTERS THE ROOM. DEBBIE II IS CLEARLY SPASMODIC AND CANNOT CONTROL HER BODY MOVEMENTS.
QUINTON: What's that, Debbie II? Something wrong with you?
DEBBIE II: (unintelligible)
QUINTON: Are you sick, Debbie II? Is it bacterial, viral? Perhaps a parasite?
DEBBIE II FALLS TO THE FLOOR
QUINTON: Oh my, Debbie II. It seems you can't control yourself. Debbie II, can you hear me? Debbie II!
DEBBIE II LOOKS AT QUINTON BUT IS UNABLE TO COMMUNICATE. QUINTON KICKS DEBBIE II, THEN SITS BACK DOWN. DEBBIE II IS STILL SPASMODIC.
QUINTON: Maybe it would be better if I just burnt you at the stake? To think that dying by flame is a more humane method of extermination. If only there were another way, if only I could cup you in my hands and let you fly out the window... Alas, I have you in my hands already, yet you are unwilling to let go. This is your suicide, Debbie II. I'm sorry it came to this.
THE SEIZURE OF DEBBIE II REACHES A PEAK
DEBBIE II: (moans)
QUINTON LIGHTS A CIGARETTE AS DEBBIE II DIES
QUINTON: Was it good for you, Debbie II?
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| Tuesday, February 19th, 2008
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4:21 pm - Scabies II
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I can feel them under my flesh slowly burrowing. I market their trails yesterday and today I see their progress.
Knuckles took something of a 70 degree turn to the left. I think she's trying to draw a heart? maybe her children will finish the job.
Blade is hidden and I can't really see where she's gone, but I can feel her presence, oh wait maybe that's her fecal matter.
Debbie is doing SOMETHING to my right hand, I don't exactly know what their patterns are - how long does it take to feed, how long does it take to lay eggs? All I know is that it itches like hell around her.
Debbie II isn't doing much or is digging further into my skin, because all I see is a very well defined burrow and no evidence of her existence. I think she's scared. Hopefully she knows what's coming to her.
Annie hasn't moved much. I think she might just be a big patch of eggs and not an actual mite. I don't think the mites are that big.
Mannie however is very much alive and active, the longest burrow yet! I'm going to try to isolate her to make sure she breeds - really good stock, she's got the wanderlust in her.
I'm going to miss these friends when they're gone, but I take heart in knowing that I'll always have them in me.
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| Monday, February 18th, 2008
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6:08 pm - Definitely Scabies
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I am infected. I'm not only a victim, I'm a vector. There are microscopic mites burrowing tunnels into my flesh, eating that flesh, shitting it out and laying eggs. In 24 days the eggs will mature and I will be even more pestilent.
How do you know you have scabies?
Simple, the ink-burrow test. Take a felt tip marker and apply it to a suspected burrow. Liberally get ink all over the wound. Then wash off the ink on the surface with an alcohol swab... If a line of ink remains, there's your burrow. The ink follows the burrow and is not washed off by scrubbing the surface.
I can see their burrows... these raised paths with a dark dot at the end. Devils. Eating my blood and laying eggs. Ahhh jesus christ it is absolutely disgusting.
Mom's sending me some permethrin creme that should be here Wednesday - CANNOT COME SOON ENOUGH JESUS CHRIST I CAN COUNT 10 ON MY LEFT HAND
psychosomatiariffic
in other news, I disappointed some beautiful girls just by being a selfish asshole, and generally life sucks
happy birthday to me
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| Friday, February 15th, 2008
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12:12 pm - Why?
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I am itching, all over my bod, more and more every day. My opaline flesh is starting to suffer - bruise-like sores, teeny little nicks like miniature bullet wounds. I've tried so many different soaps to varying degrees of success but it does not address the root. I don't think it's my detergent. My guess is it's the water that I shower in doing something to my skin. Thus I will go back to my million dollar shower place and take a shower there... If itching persists I'm going to see a fucking dermatologist. This is insane. I just hope it's my slum shack of a house and the pipes therein and not some creature inside me, eating my skin away and making me itch uncontrollably.
Q: Why do bad things happen to good people?
A: Maybe those people aren't actually good.
Fucking sucks.
Lots of good back catalogs coming into the store - Aesoteric, Nordic Trax, Planet Mu, Nite Grooves, King Street Sounds.
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| Wednesday, February 13th, 2008
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4:28 pm
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| Saturday, February 9th, 2008
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4:34 pm - Here's a desert eagle with infinite ammo. Hold still while I tie the blindfold.
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To make space I'm converting all the wave files to FLACs.
We have our files laid out in the database according to a ridiculous structure tying together logical release elements and hard file paths. Unfortunately due to my code and fucked up aggregator metadata, a lot of rows lie about nonexistant rows, rows corresponding to other releases, so on and so forth. Our media delivery code is not affected by these, but deleting a release gets very hairy.
Somehow, SOMEBODY and I know it's me deleted 2 tracks off a Lusine album, like, hard.
I don't know what other releases have been affected, which means I have to write yet another script.
Fuck.
edit: thank god, thank god. We're talking 22 fucked up releases, most of which are probably crap anyway. (excluding Lusine, naturally)
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| Thursday, February 7th, 2008
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2:24 am - here's a happier rambling
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My bank's url is alaskausa.org
dot ORG people. as in, a not for profit organization owns this website.
theoretically anyway, but do I care if they make money? no.
I certainly want them to, and I want a piece of the action.
BUT
I do NOT want a fucking BANK with all sorts of SERVICES and FEES and FUCK ME IN THE ASS PLEASE WELLS FARGO
you fucking assholes
God Bless Alaska USA and the fine people behind that institution. My love for you and your handling of my money is boundless.
Money is an incredible thing, isn't it? And credit, beyond mere money? I guess credit is a form of money... Just that less people care about it. I mean were I to go to a street fair does anybody give a FUCK what I'm worth? no... they want cash. which is cool. It's understandable! It amuses me that I can walk into a store, take whatever I want, and essentially say, "oh, I'm cool." to the security. It kind of makes me want to steal a credit card just for the high [note: I would never, ever, do that].
In other ways, money sucks. My landlord has $1k of my money tied up in last month's rent and damage deposit. If we are going 2 break this lease of ours, I have to get a new place and could REALLY use that money.
Money that she is not inclined to part with under any circumstance, valid or not.
This means squeezing it out of her, blood from a stone, this prickly wrinkled thing that bristles at engagement; a passive aggression so sold - it's more con than fool's gold. Stupid small sentences, "so did you go to high school with your roommates?" when we are discussing how she is fucking up the house, TEXT MESSAGES as communication but not email, a lawyer who hits us up on fucking FACEBOOK, what the hell ... whoa
sorry didn't mean 2 freak out on you guys
further I have the big gay boat party to trip to... a party I would have loved to blow a thousand bucks on, and that is a gross (but fair) overestimate of my expected expenditures
all of a sudden, forces pressing inward where once life left no adversary
a less humble lifestyle yet perfectly afterwards: humbling hardships
QZA SHIVERS, GETS UP FROM STOOL AND TURNS THE HEAT UP
yet what could be more humble than this hovel? heh, alack'd? that all the red flags and feelings you might have had at the onset MIGHT HAVE BEEN RIGHT? it's the feeling that you can make a mistake - it's the feeling of "getting screwed out of money"
which in our society means shame, shame. FUCK it is FREEZING! I want to write some plays. OK much better now.
In other news, I cannot decide paying sale price for normal fit and full price for a slim fit. I love slim jeans. they are good 2 bike in. maybe someday I will have fat legs, or I'll want to catch my jeans on things, maybe someday I will have an amorphous mass for an ass, big ass jeans to hang your coat up in. I am cooking this bomb ass souppp and I'm putting in avocado just for the hell of it. Hey, you know what rules?
AVOCADO!!!
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| Wednesday, February 6th, 2008
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11:50 pm - He's a ticking time bomb...
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So I was poking around our cart code just trying to get a rendering issue in Safari worked out. But before I even got there, I realized that even though we were listing FLAC files as available for sale there was no cart mechanism for selling the FLACs. This was all UI stuff, however, as my former coworker had written all the back end code to accomodate FLACs.
( nothing of interest ) and here I am bitching about it in my livejournal
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