welcome to nightmaretown
It is a beautiful freaking day outside and I'm here, drooped over my stupid keyboard, thinking of stuff I'm going to do but probably never will. If you're interested in learning a few tricks in the porn-lit game, check this out.
Saturday, April 12, 2003
Thursday, April 10, 2003
let's crawl, snake
The spring semester is almost over and I am feeling pretty pointless, but I'm not going to waste time waxing miserable. Just as an update, I missed my show again and got a finger off the high hat from the management, but I'm okay. Doing my show (totally unslept out of my mind) was good, even bone dry. I think I'm begining to reconcile my love for the sauce - I'm going to start trying this wacky new thing called restraint - I'll tell you if that works out for me. If you hadn't guessed, this means that I'm still going to try to make 21, maybe tempered and toned down a bit with my newfound lust for moderation. I'm trying to get a sense of the austin "maga" scene. I found one the other day at vulcan called two note solo that's pretty cool. I don't know. I just need to start writing and drinking (but not too much of either). Oh on another note, a recent daily texan has spurred my interest in food not bombs. This is the kind of activism I can sink my teeth into - dumpster diving and terrorizing the homeless with vegan cooking - brilliant. What a link-heavy entry. po, r.
The spring semester is almost over and I am feeling pretty pointless, but I'm not going to waste time waxing miserable. Just as an update, I missed my show again and got a finger off the high hat from the management, but I'm okay. Doing my show (totally unslept out of my mind) was good, even bone dry. I think I'm begining to reconcile my love for the sauce - I'm going to start trying this wacky new thing called restraint - I'll tell you if that works out for me. If you hadn't guessed, this means that I'm still going to try to make 21, maybe tempered and toned down a bit with my newfound lust for moderation. I'm trying to get a sense of the austin "maga" scene. I found one the other day at vulcan called two note solo that's pretty cool. I don't know. I just need to start writing and drinking (but not too much of either). Oh on another note, a recent daily texan has spurred my interest in food not bombs. This is the kind of activism I can sink my teeth into - dumpster diving and terrorizing the homeless with vegan cooking - brilliant. What a link-heavy entry. po, r.
Saturday, March 22, 2003
consecutive posts = end times
Man. After a drunken cloying margarite escapade last night, I fucking slept right through my radio show. Damn I hate that, I've been victim of a DJ just not showing up & it is a real drag. [And I think our phone is f'ed so no one could call to wake my ass up.] My guilt (guilt is my motor, baby) from this faux pas combined with my strict bottle-emptying policy last night has forced me to reconsider my life as a bon vivant. The stunning realization that I've spent about a grand since quitting my job (of which a solid $300 was booze or boozing equipment), calls for the immediate reevaluation of my lifestyle over the past weeks. I think its pretty obvious that my hobbyist interest in drinking is as much (if not more) about the cullinary aspect as it is about getting krunk. I need to find another hobby. Maybe I'll work on my website more, or cook more, or perhaps actually put some effort into school or my supposed chosen field. Regardless, the drinking magazine seems way less appropriate now. I'll probably edit out its mention from previous posts in a fit of 1984esque history-rewriting. Maybe not. I still want to make a zine. I probably will. I still like the title, regardless. It just wouldn't have nearly the content, but what of my products does? I've been thinking of taking up my turntables again and going into more of a dub thing, but records are a far more costly addiction than booze. I know all of this rant is 100% morning-after (or afternoon-after, or simply noonafter). This particular interest has peaked, I guess. Its all downhill from here...doubleplus great. - r.
Man. After a drunken cloying margarite escapade last night, I fucking slept right through my radio show. Damn I hate that, I've been victim of a DJ just not showing up & it is a real drag. [And I think our phone is f'ed so no one could call to wake my ass up.] My guilt (guilt is my motor, baby) from this faux pas combined with my strict bottle-emptying policy last night has forced me to reconsider my life as a bon vivant. The stunning realization that I've spent about a grand since quitting my job (of which a solid $300 was booze or boozing equipment), calls for the immediate reevaluation of my lifestyle over the past weeks. I think its pretty obvious that my hobbyist interest in drinking is as much (if not more) about the cullinary aspect as it is about getting krunk. I need to find another hobby. Maybe I'll work on my website more, or cook more, or perhaps actually put some effort into school or my supposed chosen field. Regardless, the drinking magazine seems way less appropriate now. I'll probably edit out its mention from previous posts in a fit of 1984esque history-rewriting. Maybe not. I still want to make a zine. I probably will. I still like the title, regardless. It just wouldn't have nearly the content, but what of my products does? I've been thinking of taking up my turntables again and going into more of a dub thing, but records are a far more costly addiction than booze. I know all of this rant is 100% morning-after (or afternoon-after, or simply noonafter). This particular interest has peaked, I guess. Its all downhill from here...doubleplus great. - r.
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