Or desire to construct firebombs, in this case.
I'll start: How the hell are you going to eat pizza with that?
must make distance fast
before that tender touch
makes my joints rust
Quoth the Edit:
I'm always accidentally revealing my superhero origins.
14 years agoKevlar
secret package 13 of 50
It's been a few months since I've snuck in a nightcap. Hello, nightcap. Don't make too much noise while we're sneaking about during this Evening Shenanigan edition.
Since it's been so long since I've done one of these, welcome to the new friends. This is a nighttime post about the stuff that doesn't pass muster during the day. It won't disappear this time so Steve won't bitch about me deleting half my posts.
Speaking of days, this is day 3 of Operation Sexify. While I've told some of you close few about my workout routine of the past 4 years, I really haven't ever strained myself to a breaking point when it comes to my upper pecs, biceps and general muscle gain. Naturally, now that I have a camping trip coming up in a few weeks with someone I very much would like to get to know better, I'm going to do the completely wrong thing and ramp up the schedule in a vain attempt to make some immediate gains.
Two nights ago it was (abbreviated version) incline press with straight bar, overhead press, into shoulder shrugs, into squats, into a quarter-mile jog (just to finish obliterating my quads) topped off by preacher curls.
I'm in a lot of pain. That's why I'm doing it again tonight.
My goal is to get my abs back into better shape and try and round myself out in time for the trip. Oh, and to look good in this while I'm out there:
I'll take pics when it comes in if I can actually not look so thin. In the meantime I continue my diet of meat and ice cream. No, that wasn't a joke when I mentioned it last time.
In other news I was looking through old messages I sent myself in anticipation of future rant topics. You know, it's a good thing I self-monitor so much - I found an email from me with nothing but the text "fucking PRETZEL BAGS" in the body.
No, I don't know what it was about either. Probably a good thing I didn't rattle off a post about the dastardly offenders when I was apparently feeling slighted by them.
Finally, the band MusT appears to have been wiped off the face of the earth by another fucking GoDaddy domain parking. This upsets me greatly. Androgynous Jesus is one of my favorite albums of all time. Dave Ireland was a 5' crazy man in a top hat and cane who could belt out some heavy songs with intelligent lyrics at the same time. And when he'd finish a set he'd jump off the stage, head to the bar and do shots with the patrons.
That's Rock n' Roll for you.
ascendant mirth to resplendent rebirth
EDIT: I tried to find a picture of Dave Ireland to better illustrate the void that will be left by this band's absence and this is the third result in GIS:
Thank you Google, that's very helpful.
14 years agoKevlar
As much as I hate the traffic, I just need to make the occasional trip downcity. Different sights, different people, and places I can go where nobody knows my name.
*hums the Cheers themesong*
Wait, should I hum that... Backwards? Oh well.
So I meet up with Ryan (you might remember him) for drinking on the best night of the week - Monday night - and we decide to explore. You see, one of my favorite restaurants for exotic cuisine has been closing down and this is the last open location as far as I know. We can't afford to not support the place when they make incredible mussel and nan appetizers!
They also have Newcastle on tap and make a margarita the size of my head, not that I was thinking of that.
It's in a nice part of the city although parking sucks. I feel like I've never left when we sit down in a nice room, I get the customary size-of-my-fucking-head drink and the waitress winks at me before slinking off to another table. It was always like this no matter which location I went to - two waitresses servicing the whole room, your meal taking two hours and nobody really caring because they're too busy ogling. And it's good to connect with Ryan again; in some way both our lives have been so rapidly changing it's difficult to keep up.
Out of the blue:
I see the rowdy table next to us has paused for a moment for their closest female member to speak the preceding.
"Yeah, the appetizers are good here."
She looks at me.
"No, I wasn't talking about the food."
"Oh, well the margarita's a favorite of mine."
She looks at my crotch.
"No, I wasn't talking about the drink."
Now, if we can hold the frame here for a moment while I begin commentary. *grabs instant replay highlighter* Let me say first that I certainly do not mind flirtation by anyone under the age of 40. Also that it's not bad if it happens often.
What I don't like is the complete lack of finesse whatsoever. Now this is not the same as honesty, because shit, I like that coming from women. This is being so tipsy off your one Rolling Rock that you initiated a class-action flirt. Look, again, you're a woman and interested - that's nice. Did you have to be so loud and so direct as to make your entire table involved with my entire table? Everyone's silent because you couldn't even wait to begin hitting on me, and now they're waiting for my response. And do you think Grandma Peach and Grandpa Falafel sitting next to you are comfortable at all with this?
What is this, some kind of new social standard I haven't been exposed to yet? The angry mob flirt? The bully slut banter? The overly voluptuous vamp? The goddamn egre-- I'll stop.
I mean, neverminding the fact that it looks not only like you have an engagement ring on but a wedding band as well, and neverminding that this apparently is some form of goading to get in my pants, now Ms. Hottie McTightPants over there overheard and I doubt she'll be doing any winking from here on out.
So I did what any man would do when confronted with such an easy and unenticing prospect - I smiled and went back to my drink. And they spent the rest of the night yapping and occasionally mentioning that we were being "too quiet" for them to continue talking to which (translated into non-psychotic person speak) means normal conversation that they weren't able to interject their pack-mentality yells into after being shot down.
I mean, what is the world coming to? A married woman doing that!
Offer me the blowjob after the meal. That might work, wifey.
because i can
14 years agoKevlar
Ooh. So you finally sprung for the remote flash to go with the 8-megapixel, huh? Yeah, we'll be able to do a lot of professional stuff with this.
I'll bet I can bounce this off mirrors and stuff for portraits - you know, make key lighting with just me holding the camera. We'll get less noise issues with it too if we use it right.
So it syncs wirelessly to the shutter? Great. Is this the button that charges it?
Aww, FUCKNIBBLETS. Ow.
Stop laughing at me.
yeah, yeah, you very very wicked
14 years agoKevlar
(I woke up with ash all over my clothes today. Makes me wonder what the hell I was doing last night. Probably dancing around spraying lighter fluid on the fire again. Beats last time when I started drinking the cheap vodka we were using for accelerant and tried spitting it onto the flames.)
So I'm noticing, as predicted, that as the site grows into the pseudo-social experience it is today people become more stringent with their friend requirements. As I'm a whore who desires only the pleasures of the company of the site's elite, I have decided to establish some very simple and comparable guidelines myself. These were created after thorough focus group testing, reading other folks' profiles and the occasional 3 AM Denny's run.
Before You Send A Friend Request:
1. Go to 113 8TH AVENUE. You will meet a HOMELESS GUY.
2. The HOMELESS GUY will try to sell you some SHIT. Get directions to the MAGICAL MYSTERY BUS.
3. Ten hours later, THROW YOURSELF from the EXPLODING BUS OF MYSTERY. You will be in BOLIVIA or THE ARCTIC CIRCLE depending on whether or not you were CHEWING GUM LOUDLY at the time of entry.
4. If you're in THE ARCTIC CIRCLE, please remember to DIE SLOWLY.
5. If you're in BOLIVIA, make sure to VIOLATE THE NEAREST CUTE WOODLAND CREATURE.
6. In its innards you will find a MAP.
7. EAT THE MAP because you won't need it.
8. Holy shit that is a LARGE ROLLING BOULDER.
9. Fucking RUN AWAY, I DON'T KNOW.
10. West, north, north, climb rope.
11. USE POISONED MEAT ON PACK OF RABID CHIHUAHUAS.
12. Recover the AZTEC GOLD and BRING IT TO MY HOUSE WITH A CASE OF BEER.
13. After that, GO HOME and SEND ME A MESSAGE. You may then ask to JOIN MY FRIENDS LIST. No, you can't HANG OUT WITH ME on delivery of the beer.
Haha, I'm kidding; that's not quite enough for some people's friend lists. But seriously, post three times a week. Have good teeth. No fatties. Assmugs help your standing. Be funny. Give me shit. And above all, remember who loves ya.
Or, just, be cool and be above the petty karma grabs. Being here for the community can be fun - trust me!
follow me down to the valley below
moonlight is bleeding from out of your soul
PS. J, it's etymology. Finally, right?
PPS. I actually just got a friend request as I was writing this.
14 years agoKevlar
(Read Part 1)
Excerpts from the deepest movements of the soul...
Brain: So, we're single again.
Brain: Look, I know it's been tough... But hey! It's the end of the semester! There's women to be found everywhere! Let's have a look, huh?
Brain: Of course, ok! Why wouldn't we?
Heart: I guess you're right.
*ten minutes later*
Brain: Ooh! There's another one!
Heart: She looks interesting.
Dick: NEW BUTT
Brain: Look, I realiz--
Dick: IN THE NEW BUTT
Brain: What I'm trying to say is I understa--
Heart: New butt!
Brain: Oh STOP IT! Both of you.
Brain: I know this is the first time in a year you can look at girls like this, so..
Brain: Wow, that really is nice.
Eyes: Damn straight.
Brain: Look, it's been a long time since we've done this. What does she look like she'd want to talk about?
Heart: Sing her a song!
Dick: ABOUT DICK BUTKUS
Brain: How about we play a rousing game of fuck you instead?
Brain: What, do you think you can just intelligently debate me by contradicting my every assertion? I defy you to say something of worth today.
Dick: HAHA, I WIN
Brain: ..Yes. You win. You've won for the past fifteen years by those standards.
Brain: Now let's talk about my having nothing to do with your towering stupidity.
Dick: TOWERING, PREACH IT SISTA
Brain: Sista? What the hell?
Heart: Don't mind him, he's still not wired right after the breakup.
Brain: Yeah, I can tell. You too.
Heart: No I'm not!
Brain: Yes you are. You haven't said two words in this bit.
Heart: Ok - "shove it." That should put me over the top, Mr. I-do-all-the-counting.
Brain: Look, just because I've been drinking heavily for the past week doesn't mean you have the right to resent me for it. It's been for the best for all of us.
Dick: I SHOOT BLUE FUN
well who'm i tryin to please
with this bubblegum sleaze
14 years agoKevlar
(Goodbye, last post.)
Yesterday was officially the two-year mark of RvB fan..ness.. for me here. Seems so long ago that I was the screaming homeless man in the Basement trying to make smart comments.
Now I look normal and yell at passerby in a way that befits my old avatar. Because, you know, consistency is key.
A thanks to the friends who stop by and make this little trip worth every minute. But in case you were wondering, yeah, I guess this means I have to get worse.
*throws diapers at Steve*
with the teeth
14 years agoKevlar
If you missed it, new pictures are up. You probably won't find them up to par but I give myself points for variety. B+, in fact. And the more vague shit I tack on my titles, the more they look like techno remixes. Don't look now, I'm drunk with power!
Light fuse and run away.
There's something malleable about a man's patience. You find yourself waiting a half-hour for a date; well, you're a nice guy and you understand. It's in your nature to be kind, as deep as you have to dig in the particular case.
Then one day you wake up and it's no longer a half-hour wait; it's a two-hour banishment the day of your anniversary while she stays late at work talking to some guy. Hey, you're nice and you understand, right? It's in her nature to be friendly.
The day she screamed at you like a child in the middle of the hotel because you weren't giving her enough attention (neverminding you're best man for your best friend and your speech was in 10 minutes)? You almost gave her that one, too. Almost.
It starts getting harder when you have to apologize for her presence. When she ruins what should be your favorite moments. When you're stoically turning down other women so you can go back to yours yelling about how you're not treating her well enough.
It's not in your nature to be beaten down like this. It's not in hers to accept responsibility or understand commitment and honesty when she can't even acknowledge a single fault.
So she tells you she still wants to be friends, and that's when her real tears start. You get the feeling she's going to ask for sex without the relationship or love without the bounds; that this is still some kind of win for her. You tell her no. There's a flash of that old possessive, jealous anger in her words that drove you away in the first place. She tells you you're going to try, because while things might not be meant to be she still wants to be a part of your life.
And when, before you can respond, bird shit falls from the sky and lands squarely on her leg in the middle of her attempt to keep you close? You know what's meant to be.
Light fuse and run away.
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