five deadly everythings...

Some nonsensical randomness

Those who claim vegetarian suck the fat beneath the table
the crack metaphors in fables are the only things remaining stable
stomach pains remain the staple of thanksgiving meals
thanks for giving a shit man, f'real
but still, you steal a glace at my half-assedness behind my back
but why give a shit or a crack at bat?
when that's that and that's all?

Sometimes I try to stall, or at least enjoy the freefall
enjoy the space between these three walls
and break the forth one down to look my audience in its eye
say "Hi, it's time to cry, laugh here, clap here, curtain call when Jeffrey dies"
But still I spy with my brown eyes the skys not all above
and all I need to grasp the fact are five within my glove
A fist a slap or open hand make the band and break the sound
The stakes are high when mistakes fly, pound the stakes into the ground
rest in peace or rest in pieces while the rest are resting easeless

*ahem*
I'll never work for them! You're jerkin them, the sperm's a racial facial
Don't be wasteful get a tastefull! It's tasteless man
it's chicken blood, or witch's cud
And I'm not crazy but this lady thinks I'm made of dirt or mud
It's never fun convincing people my mind's not drunk or high
But what the fuck it's brucked up when the samurai's a friggin white guy

*inhale*
Okay I've made my own mistakes but this I race to face
And if my life was running than my shoes I'd tie in place
It seems I'm never going, never flowing man freal,
A rhyme a poem a limerick shit I can never tell the feel...

But this I feel...
this,
steel...

a knife, a life, a difference cut across an effete wrist bone
a deaf man gets the gist of home
!!HELLO!! Am I Pissed Alone?

I can't get why you ain't mad like me,
but still: calm your loud ass down,
shit's real but not that bad you see
...i give enemies a pound.
and I'll admit, I contradict
but aint' never fuck with hypocrites

There's a difference there... Are you with me? quit your stares.
I only speak what's real, believe the deal, I do it cuz I care.

Contradiction's fair cuz truth is truth but lies are only lies
Mirrors never work too well cuz reflection means disguise.

...

bah. Now that's on some 16 year old poetry shit. LOL

peace,
-2th.

Posted by Scene -- at 1:24:00 a.m. | Permalink

ain't no half-stepping

I was purchasing Fast Food Nation today at the local Chapters (thanks to Suzie C. for the discount), and had a couple of cool conversations. I was asking the Harry Potter-looking dude if he had read FFN, and said that he hadn't but had a couple of friends who loved it. I asked him and Suzie if there was anything else I might want to pick up, and Mark said "Well, if you're just searching for some convenient cause to believe in, something easy to be pissed off about..." LOL. I really like that he said that. It's a nice quote.

I also saw So in the bookstore. We talked about school and work and shit like that (Trang has a new Asian boyfriend)...and eventually got to talking about film. I told her about my cousin and the film festival, and it turns out that So is also into computer animation and alla that shit like my cuz is. She talked about the animation industry, Sotra2Femme, and by the end of it we had agreed that we're gonna work on a movie together.

I've been getting a lot of ego checks lately, and I'm very greatful for all of them. Because to be honest, those were two really intelligent conversations I had with people I think I always assumed I'd never have intelligent conversations with. I'm a big asshole like that sometimes. I really need to check myself. Being humbled is actually a very nice feeling though, when it doesn't come rudely in the form of condescension. (Yes, I'm talking to you, stupid ass Starbucks customer).

But yea, something about a Jeff, Kev, and So collabortion makes me giddy.

Weird outing today; I went to the movies with Cindy. We were both cashing out at the sametime, I asked what movies are playing, and she asked if I wanted to go watch a movie. I had nothing better to do, so we snuck into Cheaper By the Dozen. Sneaking into movies is still really fun. I was surprised that Kutcher, Welling, Perabo and Duff didn't get as much screen time as the younger kiddies did. I was expecting more of an ensemble, with those four being the main focus. But naw, it focused more on the younger kids, and thus, was much more of a kids movie than I expected.

It was pretty funny in some parts, but still, it was some pretty blatant Hollywood life-affirming bullshit. Also, the moral of the story seems to be that if you have kids, you can kiss your dreams goodbye. Which makes sense, of course, but it's kind of depressing when you think about it. It led to a happy-ending that seemed kinda sour to me.

Speaking of child-rearing interfering with your career, Zorya quit today, how crazy is that? I got mad at her, and after some careful psycho analysis, we decided that my anger stems from the fact that I'm still working is the same damned god-forsaken coffee shop, while she, on the other hand, no longer is. LOL. I never got to work with Z much...we had some good laughs today, though.

Another good convo I had recently was with Rohan on the state of hiphop. Ro seems like a another true head who Used ta Love H.E.R. But thinking about that shit makes me sad. I have this weird urge to take up Bartek's offer to meet up, smoke some weed, and throw up a cipher.

Oh fuck, just heard this crazy story from my dad the other day. Apparently my father was mugged at gunpoint just before be emmigrated to Canada. The dude couldn't get my dad's wallet out, so he ripped his fukkin pants off! All while pointing a gun to his temple. This is why my dad doesn't have his original birth certificate. I'm assuming that this is also the reason why my dad is such a big safety freak.

Worked out yesterday for like 20 minutes. I got tired before I got sweaty, and now my muscles ache. I'm really out of shape.

Haven't done any zazen since the holiday's started. Which explains why I've been so irritable and scatter-brained. Like really. I'm all over the fukkin place, and I keep getting annoyed with people. The annoyance lasts for like 5 seconds, tops, but for the 5 seconds....watch out. It's weird. This is my first Christmas Season since I more or less officially became a Taoist/Zen Buddhist (I hate labels, f'real, so gay...), but I have to admit I pretty much became a Christian again for the week or so. Old habits die hard. Still though, good will is good will. Who cares where it comes from.

I saw an interview with Zadie Smith on some hip-hop show today...I think I'm in love with her. Why is it that I asked for White Teeth as a Christmas gift this year, and both Chris and my sis received it instead? Oh well, I guess that at least gives me two people to borrow it from. Hey Zadie. Purrrrr.

φзαςє,
2thpick.

Posted by Scene -- at 2:36:00 a.m. | Permalink

How the Grinch Loved Christmas

So, this was the best Christmas I've had in a long while, and I'm not just talking about the gifts (though I *did* clean up this year). Chillin with the family, though stressful, was a good experience. Noli and Banjo are already gone, and I already miss them. My mom went psycho this holiday, but even that was just kinda amusing (I'll blog about that another day, to tell the story in it's entirety).

Some sick fukkin gifts this year, here they are:

Chris: 200 dollar jacket, nice shit.
Suzy: Bruce Lee fleece blanket, some weird dijereedo(??) music...lol. Good shit.
Marisa: X1 and X2 boxset. Y'all know how I feel about this shit...
Mom: Sweater and new leather wallet.
Dad: CD discman, MP3 compatible.
Noli: "Buddha" grahpic novel (yea yea), "Watership Down" DVD, toy foam nunchucks.
Jay: "Spike Jonez", the DVD full of his music videos.
Tito Al: Cash, cash, cash.

Not bad eh? I'm pretty fukkin happy. I got excited with every one of those.

I'm pretty happy with the gifts I bought this year as well. I gave my brother the Boondocks collection, and what's cool is that he met two other people on his return flight to Van-city who received the same book for Christmas! They all started talking because of it, and they got along so well that they are meeting up for drinks in a few days. So my gifts are bringing people together.

We got our dad this cheap-ass plastic pocket digital camera, (it's a fukkin key chain), and we all thought it was crappy gift. But it turns out, that the camera is prety fukking decent, and now we're all playing with it all the time. And my dad loves it. It's the first gift I ever got for him that he so clearly enjoys. It's a good feeling.

I saw Morgan and Marisa's new place the other day, and I must admit, they got a sweet deal on this apartment. It's really nice looking and clean, they paying 800 a month, and there's no fukkin lease agreement. They can leave whenever they want, going month-to-month. Good stuff. I just hope they can find jobs before their savings run out. Who goes looking for apartments without jobs??

Best Holiday Story: So yea, I was really nervous showing Jay my film. But whatever. I muster up the gumption and show it to him just before he leaves. he watches it in silence. I'm was like...totally embarassed. But then he says: "Jeff, that was awesome. I loved it." He goes on to tell me that it's better than like 60-70 percent of the stuff he sees in NY, and that he "knows people" and can get me into one of the film festivals. Not that "he can talk to people"...he actually said, "I CAN GET YOU IN". So like....come fall next year...I'M GOING TO NEW YORK AS A FILMMAKER. I'm still in shock. It hasn't hit me yet. And then we spent a good 15 minutes talking about the film. Yup. Still in shock.

Work was good today, went out for drink with some of the people after. Walked home from work.

Good Christmas. Yup Yup. Thanks to everyone. I'm madly in love with you all.

peace,
-J.

Posted by Scene -- at 3:11:00 a.m. | Permalink

Okay Okay, I Like Christmas

Although I've spent much of the last week hating my family, hating the coffee shop and it's employees and customers, and hating the concept of Christmas in general, I hate to admit...all that is gone. Maybe it's because I've finally talked to Beigy on the phone again, maybe it's cuz I like buying gifts for people, maybe it's some cheesy Capra-esque Christmas magic. But whatever. Yay Christmas.

Shopping with Suzy is a nightmare. I know you are reading this, so: Merry Christmas and I hate you. LOL. Looking on the positive side of things, I think I lost some weight as she dragged me across the mall back-and-forth twenty thousand times, one thousand of those for the reason of dropping her coat off at Carmi's gift wrap service over and over again. "A Giraffe! Keeep flying! Let's visit your faaaaavorite lake!"

Okay okay, I did my share of dragging. Watever. (Thanks for the gifts man! Bruce Lee blanket....homoerotic, but niceness indeed.) But the draggin was for a good cause, I guess. I was determined to buy some kick-ass toys for the toy-drive (going to the kids at Credit Valley Hospital) that were still within my price range and personal politics: No blatantly patriotic action figures, no action figures that closely resemble Aryan physical ideals, no lifestyle marketing disguised as toys (i.e. no Barbie, Mary Kate and Ashly Olsen, and those damn wigger/hooker dolls). Suzy was able to find both, a Disney Princess doll, and a Batman Beyond figure with motorcycle and movie video. Both under 10 bucks. A much greater find than it sounds, considering all the cool toys were long gone.

A confession: I ripped the video off of the Batman package and kept it for myself.

Another confession: I was supposed to save money this Christmas, but I've ended up buying myself a couple of gifts: A Zen book, and an anime movie (Perfect Blue). Good stuff for each. I don't feel too guilty, cuz they're both sick as hell. I wanna post what I bought everyone, but I can't just yet, cuz pepl might be reading this blog at home.

Talked to Mike today, and we're gonna sneak into Kill Bill. ("Gyessssss" - Movie Ticket Dot Comm Loser).

Talked to Beigy, she survived the earhtquakes (Gyesssssss x 2). Come home already. Who do you think you are? Gulliver? Paris Hilton? Go to hell! (i.e. come to mississauga!)

So yea, I was feelin kinda weird around my brother and sister because while they were cleaning for the renovations, they found a bunch of stuff I had written over the years. Stuff I totally forgot about and discarded into the clutter that was my basement. I went downstairs and found a neat little pile of poetry, short stories, psychotic little rants on scraps of paper, doodles, phrases, photographs, collages...it was pretty intense. Looking through all the crap (and I do mean crap...I lot of it is really really bad), I felt like a psychopath. And knew they must have thought I was a psychopath as well. Did you know I used to cut out newspaper clippings of murders and shit?? I totally forgot. But then I saw them. And I'm like....whoa.

But yea. My brother told me that he didn't read any of it, but I don't believe that for a second. Not that I blame him, of course. I would have read the same shit, and I would have lied about it as well. I was just embarrassed more than anything.

It took a couple a days, but I've come to terms with the whole deal. I mean, they already know that I've been depressed since I was a kid. If anything, now they'll know it and believe it. After thinking about it, I was more ashamed that my writing was so bad, not that it was private. If it was good shit, I frankly would have no problem with them finding and reading it.

I got a message on my voicemail, a Christmas greeting from Franky-freakin-Natale! How cool/weird is that? Ima call dude back.

Anyways. I have more to say, but I'm tired.

And Balancio, you lost the fight dude, get over it. LOL. Aww man, I gotta buy the twins gifts, don't I? You just *had* to go and have *two* kids, didn't you?? Dammit.

Peace all,

-2thpick.

Posted by Scene -- at 1:08:00 a.m. | Permalink

No Surprises Here...

Here are my results on the World's Smallest Political Quiz. Try it, it takes like 5 seconds. Ahem:

According to your answers, your political philosophy is left-liberal.

Left-Liberal
Left-Liberals prefer self-government in personal matters and central decision-making on economics. They want government to serve the disadvantaged in the name of fairness. Leftists tolerate social diversity, but work for economic equality.

No kidding. But yea, interesting that it's so accurate with so few questions.

peace,
2th.

Posted by Scene -- at 2:00:00 a.m. | Permalink

And if ever I write/ I need the space to say whatever I like - Jay

I never quite understand why my insomnia is strongest when I have to wake up early the next morning. 1:01 am...opening tomorrow...I did my best to sleep. I was physically in bed by 9:30 pm, and finally got out three hours later. Cuz let's face it, three hours without falling asleep is a little ridiculous.

The basement is finally finished, and all that remains is the clean up. Oh, my wonderful clutter. My siblings are bothering me now, giggling like little girls, making smart-assed comments about everything and anything. Don't get me wrong, they don't mean any harm, and they're actually quite hilarious, but it's getting to the point now where I can't make a move or think a thought without hearing some smart-assed comment. Even in my bedroom, I hear them giggling and guffawing away in the basement, making fun of me and everybody else. The house will seem empty once they are gone, though...a feeling I haven't experienced for years.

3 days without Beigy, and she's telling me that there will be no MSN, and very limited e-mails and blogging. Bah, whatever, hmph.

Ah, my brother is still awake. He caught me blogging. He says that if he brought his acupuncture needles with him, he would have been able to put me to sleep. LOL. He says he did it one time on himself and he got so drowsy that he almost passed out with the needles still in. Ouch.

Gerard's like the only person on-line. I haven't seen any of my friends in the longest time. Talked to Suzanne of the phone on the other night, saw Jimmy briefly on the road, got an e-mail from Marc. But that's pretty much it.

It's funny that Suzanne and I were talking before about how we've grown apart from Blaise. He came into the store awhile back just to drop by, and I didn't really notice it at the time, but I greeting him with a pound. It just goes to show that we're no longer as close, cuz I don't greet close friends by giving them dap. It's mostly with acquaintances, or at least, friends who don't know me as well and Blaise does/did. No hard feelings of course, it's just the way shit goes sometimes. I still love dude like my brother... but me and my bro ain't exactly the closest people in the world either.

I been feelin kidna alone lately (and yea, I know that's mostly my own doing). That busride to York seemed to be the perfect image for my life. Alone, always in transition, but never really going anywhere.

Anways, marry christmas to everyone. Mike, G, Ima call you to chill sooner or later. I should call Tony before Tracy gets back....

But in the meantime, for your nostalgic viewing pleasure:



Oh, and Michelle Branch is nekkid in the new Maxim. I'm really regretting my vow to never buy an issue of that stupid magazine again in my life.

peace,
2th.

Posted by Scene -- at 1:31:00 a.m. | Permalink

Happy Thursday

As much as I keep giving P the benefit of the doubt...or rather, the courtesy of my conversation...the dude keeps saying some pretty stupid shit. It's not worth my time to go into detail, but I thought I would record my final opinions on this guy. Suzy might be a little crazy at times (lol), but this dude is dumber than that guy who ordered the irish cream cappucinno today at work. And since you don't know him or the story, let me assure you, that man was pretty fukkin stupid.

Went shopping with the siblings today. I finally got my shopping done; the first year that I've finished ahead of time. I'm not too happy with what I got my dad, though I'm hyped about what I got my cousin. Jay's coming to town, and I bought him that Mississauga version of Monopoly. It's really cheesy, but seeing as he's been out of the country the past few years, I doubt he knows of the game's existence. That pic of Hazel holding the giant fish had me and Noli splittin our sides for a good view minutes.

Jay wants me to show him my movie, Found, and I have to admit that I don't really want to. Jay's overwhelming talent and success really intimidates me, to the point where I become a blustering idiot in his presence. I feel really inadequate next to him, and I have no desire to extend that feeling over to my creative works. Also, he's very on the tech-side of film, and I always feel uncomfortable when talking to those people. The always seem to make me feel like an idiot because I know shit about cameras and lenses and editing programs...no matter how good my film is.

I saw this girl at work today who looked exactly like a grown-up version of Becky Brown. *blushes like a little girl*.

Ah, I also saw Andrew from MAFA. He's dating Irene, or he's related to her, or some shit like that. He was my sparring partner from waay back, when we were both training for our first fights. I hated that dude because he was such a natural. He excelled at everything he tried, and he would kick my ass all over the ring. Still, I learned more while sparring with him than I maybe did in the last two years of my training. I really need to get back into it. I keep seeing people from MAFA, seeing specials on TV, fights and documentaries....and talking to Krystle about her training...I really wanna get back into that shit. Ima have to get back into shape first though. And "NO", I'm taking Shaolin kung-fu, lol, I don't care what you say.

My life is boring. I think I will go now.

2 Days Without Beigy.

φзαςє,
2thpick.

Posted by Scene -- at 1:00:00 a.m. | Permalink

It's Beginning To Feel a Lot Like Christmas...

Gifts are hard this year. My siblings and I are stressing, and I can't remember how I ever came up with gift ideas for my parents in the past. Though, when I come to think of it, I've never really gotten them anything great before. Magazines, useless electronics, trinkets and other such baubles. A certain redundancy runs through my Christmas gift lists.

I got sick just an hour or so before the 'Bucks Christmas Party. But still, I had a pretty good time. I'm glad it doesn't feel like a waste of 24 bucks to me...shows I'm not as concerned about money as I was fearing I was. Or growing to be.

Return of the King was awesome. I really have to watch the extended versions of all these flicks, because I feel I am losing out on some of the character development. Beigy got all jumpy and excited when we procured opening day midnite tickets. I thought she was going to cry. Her childlike honesty of emotion is endearing. She is gone to California. (boo-hoo!).

A hearty "fugg yall" to all the merry Christmas shoppers out there. Yall are some big assholes. I really don't know what it is about this holiday that gets people so riled up. Maybe it's the cold weather; maybe it's the year-long pent up Christian guilt. Whatever the case, effa yall and A Happy New Year.

I told Ron that I wanted to be Shift Supervisor, and I'm now kind of regretting the admission. I'm thinking that I should have kept my thoughts to myself for awhile. I haven't even planned this shit out.

Work is a nice place now. Krystle is cool, I'm sorry to say. A certain Beigy one is "hmph"-ing as she reads this, (and boy, is she cute when she does it) but hey, my blog is my blog. I think what I dig about her is more what I've been missing in the store. I used to love this place because of the energy that it gave off. The "potential" of all the kids working there was astounding. I dunno. I'm not sure how to phrase it. But I think we lost some of the that with the recent of hiring streak of who I call "The Cutthroats". The Jills and Tinishas and John Standard's (no offense to them, of course). And the streak after that I call "The Hiltons"; the Zoryas and Jees and such. Not that the store is overun with those two types (or that I dislike these people in the least), but there is enough of them that they assert control over the store atmosphere (the rest of us are just too passive, chill, or indifferent to adjust the scales). Kyrstle just seems this odd throwback, to a time when the store was full of people who's potential in life was so much bigger than the store, and the society that this coffee corporation represents.

But geez, was that pretentious or what? I hate being honest with myself because that means being honest about my pretentions. And then I go back and forth, and it's this big uninteresting struggle. Whatever.

Haven't met/worked with the other new girl, Irene. Marites is old news from highschool, so no new thoughts there. She cool though.

Where's Suzanne? Sending me e-mails, but no idea what's going on. I should call her tomorrow.

We've been painting the bassment, and it's looking nice. I'm bored with this house.

I'm bored with my life.

I miss you, Chris.

Shoutouts to Jimmy.

I went to York today to return my overdue library books. The busride was depressing. Who would think that such a small contricting space could feel so damn desolate? I'm sure the weather had something to do with it. The snowstorm, the clogged trafficways...me reading Ginsberg and staring at my reflection in the mirror...my face superimposed onto the wet concrete suburb structures outside the bus.....And York itself is always depressing. Especially when empty and dark. Walking around kind of reminded me of living on rez, though. I wandered some, bought Mos Def at the CD stand because my old copy has been scratched to hell.

But Jeez...why do I always begin my blogs with the best of intentions and moods, and then become sad and depressed by the end of it? Dammit, I hate this shit. Ok. I'm leaving.

Time to either start my school readings, or go procrastinate on Okayplayer. I'll leave your imaginations to decide where I've wandered.

peace.
-2th.

Posted by Scene -- at 12:23:00 a.m. | Permalink

The Nooner Blog

It's fun coming into blogs without something in mind to type. It feels more honest. I often lie to myself, which is dangerous, because I'm a very gullible person. Like that time I convinced myself that I was doing o.k. in school. Ha! Whatanidiot.

Woke up late today for my garbage run shift....and yet still made it to the store on time. Thinking about it now, I realize that I neglected to actually take out the garbage. Oh well. I was lazy today. Just a four hour shift. I pretty much made two mochas, put the milk away, made a couple of drinks and then went home.

Nothing is new with the store. I'm not sure if it's comfortable or stagnant. I guess it's good that there is no drama. Well, sure there is...but just little stuff. Nothing worth my worry-lines.

I still have to get Tony's gift. Gotdamn stand at York sold out of the Kill Bill bootlegs...so now I'm not too sure what to get. Should I disregard the price limit and get him a real gift? I think I will. I'm giving Ron the entire Star Wars run on VHS as well. I'm not sure if he'll find that funny, but i will. LOL. Ron doesn't take jokes very well. Not stupid jokes, at least. I told him today that Krystle quit, and he said, "yes yes, that's funny", and gave me the screw face.

Banjo seems to be much more comfortable around people. That's nice. nice dog to pet. Kinda of a pussy, though, if it's possible for dogs to be pussies. We're painting the basement.

Had fun with Chris the other day...talk show marathon, and I got to repeatedly body slam her onto the bed. (No double entendre intended...lol). She got me a nice jacket. Grown and sexy. Not too sure if I can pull it off. I feel like playing "Change Clothes" when I wear it.

Seeing MA's handwriting on Ravencroft's blog was weird. This whole time it was really funny, as if they were just characters on a cyber-space sitcom. The handwriting was very..tangible, though.

"Honey" was great. If I have time, I'm gonna critique it over in other-blog land.

Shout-outs to Gerard.

peace out dun,

-tooth.

Posted by Scene -- at 12:06:00 p.m. | Permalink

jeffnog lattes

Usually i come up with titles that are at least half-way appropriate, or witty, or whatever. But my brain just ain't working properly lately. So that's what you get. jeffnog lattes.

What to say? Blah days, man. I was opening this morning, but i didn't want to sleep through yet another alarm, so I decided to not sleep at all. Thanks to Chris for staying up with me. Work was boring, though I did finally get to meet Her. Nice girl. Got nothing else really to say.

Chris went to christmas dinner w/friends. hey Jen. I like Martin.

Noli is coming today...in just a few hours. I am trying to read as much of The Boondocks as I can before he gets here...before I have to wrap it up and cease ownership.

I gots nuthin much to say. I'm bloggin for the sake of bloggin. Suzy's not doin so well. Sent an e-mail I wish she never sent. What's-his-face initiated an MSN convo with me. I think i surprised him with my coldness. Peple really think that just because I'm a nice guy, that I must be a pussy as well. Where did that come from? I'm getting a log of random thoughts lately.

Oh fukk...this morning I was walking to work at like 5am...totally dark outside. And I swear to God, there was this old woman in a parka about 30m behind me. I couldn't see her face, but god, SHE WAS HUMMING. And I tried walking faster and faster, but everytime I turned around to check: SHE WAS THE SAME DISTANCE AWAY. I never gained any distance on her, and she never gained on me. All I could hear was her humming. I'm not sure if this is the same old lady I saw last time, running down the street in a nightgown, fear in her eyes...brrr...but, whatever. I'm now convinced that my street is haunted. At least they seem like harmless ghosts, but whatever. Old ladies freak me out. The next person that thinks it's funny to do an impression of that lady from The Others has got a nother thing coming. And just so you know: it's a fist.

I think that's it for now. I'm kinda tired. Oh yea. I didn't sleep last night.

And just so people know, being healthy is a good thing. Right Chris?

φзαςє,
2thpick.

Posted by Scene -- at 1:40:00 a.m. | Permalink

Full Moon Today

Today was the Full Moon....maybe that explains a lot...maybe it explains nothing more than the turning tides...the purchased tithes wrapped in mylar plastics in your backpocket thighs....(is this a poem? whooboy...here we go)

I'd lasso the moon and swallow it for you,
"it's a wonderful life" aint it?,
take my medicine
and choke on the wonderful craters
where God sat his fat ass
down and left the imprints
of his indifference.

Changing the channel,
clicking happily through His infinite
ever expanding number of channels
and speciality networks,
the vast expanse of lives and stories
swirling through the ether like satellites
mine just another low budget production
produced by some Asian kid
feeling repressed in some
suburb
of a suburb
while inbetween essays
and on both sides
of the fence.

I think this happens once a month
(though my astrology is rusted)
where heaven gets kidney stones
and passes them perfectly round,
a pristine prism reflecting heaven.

Nobody cares anymore
the stars don't move them
so big on themselves
they think they can move the stars
Be All You Can Be
but never ever be
moved.

Never write like you mean it.

Never fight like you believe it.

Just go on,
shadowing a clique a clouds,
go on, keep going
try to hide...

Once a month though
the moon is full enough
to find me

it's spotlight spinning
reflecting and never blinking
and I can't escape;
the imprint of God's ass
sits right on my face.

No air to breathe,
*gasp*
*gasp*
*gulp*
I swallow the moon,

and wait for Him to change the channel to
"It's A Wonderful Life"
where another angel gets his wings...

a bell rings,
a song sings,

and later on
on another day somewhere else
in someplace sitting in the absence of song,
in a suburb of a suburb,

yet another angel slits her wrists,
her metaphorical wings literally fluttering like
a dead, slaughtered chicken's.

*gulp*

...don't care, not moved,
change the channel,
the moon was only
half-assed
on that day
anyway.

peace,
2th.

Posted by Scene -- at 12:57:00 a.m. | Permalink

musique

So somewhere in the world, existed this sikk-ass concert, with this sikk-ass promo poster:



Fukk. Fiona and Jurassic. That's banannas. That's like the Ludacris/Atmosphere show me and Marcus were reading about. Who pairs up these wonderfully illogical bills, and why don't they ever come to toronto? That's awesome. I can't even imagine.

My dad is sitting in the living room, listening to Blackalicious. Nobody else is home. Salem is sitting by my feet, and I've just received an invitation to join Friendster..lol.

Hungry, hungry hippos.

-toothpick

Posted by Scene -- at 1:35:00 p.m. | Permalink

backs scratched leave scars of comfort, locks latched leave bars intact

Brace yaself for a ride, cuz I got nuthin to say. *nothing*. Not that I've ever really had anything of substance to say before.

When I was in Grade School, we used to have to write in our Jounals daily, and hand them into our teacher. We weren't graded, but she would write little comments in the margin. I was the lil' creative kid...a passion to write, but nothing to write about. And so, inspired by the high-concept behind Seinfeld, I decided to write about *nothing*. Literally, nothing. And I would title them "Nothing". And I would ramble. And the ramble would always start with: "This journal is about nothing. If you do not like reading about nothing, you probably shouldn't continue, because that's what this is about. Assuming of course, that something can be about nothing, which it probably can't, cuz that would make is something". One time, my teacher actually wrote "Ok, Jeff, I'm going to take your advice and not read!". That kinda hurt.

But anways. Here, right now, I give you:

Nothing: The Return

Just so you know. I wasn't kidding. This blog is about nothing. Well, of course it's about stuff. But just random stuff. Like snowflakes. And chickenfeet. Not specifically those two things, but you get my drift. Not that there's a drift you get, mind you. A drift would be something. And this is nothing. Remember the Nothing? From the Neverending Story? I used to be scared of that. Well, honestly, no I wasn't. But man, that princess girl gave an awesome performance. "Say my name Bastion! Say my naaame!!!!" Oooh, do you think that's where the Destiny's Child's song came from? Bastion = Beyonce? Uhh...ya. Maybe I should break paragraphs now, this one is getting kinda cramped. This first paragraph was kinda ghey. There's a picture coming up, of a manga book I want to buy. But the picture is waay too big. I'm still gonna post it though. I do what I want. I'm a rebel. I ain't give no shit about no blog template measurments. Yea! Fight The Power! Wasn't I supposed to break this paragraph?

Ahhhhh.....that's better. Talking to Chris and Suzy. Meta-tags and the tedium of life. If I could force myself to sigh I would do it right now. Why do some people love The Last Samurai? I just don't get it. I guess I never will. It's probably the same reason some people have sex with CP. You know. Satan. He makes everybody go a lil' crazy once in awhile.


Speaking of Satan. Merry Christmas. Haha, it was joke. Shut up, you Christian. But ya. What is with christmas and the way it makes people all crazy? Everybody is irrtiable and cranky and asshole-ish. Speaking of assholes, my stool has been very fluffy and soft lately. But still solid. My fibre intake is finally paying off. Morgan's a vegetarian, and I still don't know what "sectarian" means. I use is sentences sometimes, though, and people think I'm smart.

So if I cut my hair like I want to next summer, people will just think I'm biting Kamal. Thanks a lot Chris, you didn't let me do it and now I'm behind Kamal...once again. Sigh....I was gonna do that shit months ago. This is what I get for being a good boyfriend. I get hair.

Crazy Sushi kinda sukked today. The service was slow. But that's aight. If it's aight, then why does it suk? I'm not too sure myself. But what I am sure of, is that I hate cleaning up spilled eggnog at the bottom on the milkfridge. I also hate that customer. Yea, you know the one I'm talking about. No, not that one. No, not that one either....argh, never mind.

Random pictures are kinda fun. They're kinda like life. Insert: reference to Forrest Gump. I like the phrase "90s hot". It's fun. This hummus is expired. You're supposed to consume it all within 2 days of opening. Didnt' we buy this like last week? Hummus is good. When I was a kid, I used to confuse "hummus" with "hubris". Creates a lot of confusion for a kid who reads a lot of old books. Freal.

I feel like screaming. I really do. I want to yell and scream and punch. My throat feels itchy from the lack of screaming. I used to do this weird thing when I was kid....things, everyday objects used to look itchy....and I wouldn't be able to continue on with my life, because I would have to scratch the object. Cuz, y'know. A car tire couldn't very well scratch itself, now could it. But there it would be...silently throbbing in irritation. And I would have to scratch it. We talked about it in one of my classes. One girl would tease me by making a "scratch" motion with my finger. I honestly can't remember who the girl was, but I remember thinking she was cute. Damn. Memory is really weird like that.

I get really jealous easily. I think I'm jealous at this very moment. It's a weird feeling. It's the worst feeling. Jealousy and Paranoia. My two good friends.

I really really need a smoke. A nice inhale-exhale. I feel like crying. No I don't, but I kinda do. I miss a lot of people. I've missed a lot of opportunities. I've pictured a lot of people's deaths and/or funerals and they've made me cry. Seriously. Maybe some of you reading this. I've already weeped over your deaths....and maybe that will make it easier when it acutally happens. I dunno. I've said before that time in non-linear. Just like my thinking. Which shows my affinity for the Nothing-Journal. Thank you Ms. Boulanger and Mr. Vukosa for telling me that I can write. It means more to me now than ever, cuz in some ways, it's all I got. One person can make a difference. One difference can make a person.

Gas is expensive, I would hate to be a driver. Ron didn't even offer me a ride home today. I was gonna walk anyway, cuz it's fuggin great outside...but still. Offers are nice. The night was very crisp.

Maybe I'll write a poem.

Ahem.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Hang-ups do hurt
whether personal issues
or impotent phone calls
either/or
cuz double meanings
are usually parts of
a whole.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You ever wanna smack somebody and say "what the fuck were you thinking??" Not me. I think about it sometimes. But when it comes down to it...I don't really feel like smacking anybody. Maybe I'm a really nice guy. Maybe I'm lazy. Yea. I'm lazy. Mike, where you at? We gon' chill with Gerard. Haven't seen that dude in awhile. Haven't seen Rose's nekkid pics yet, I'm feelin kinda left out. I feel left out of a lot of things, I think. It seems, there some things I really don't want ot be a part of...but people still make a big deal about including me. And then other things that would just really be nice to be included with...and I'm never included. Nahmean?

All this talk makes me want to do something. Maybe I'll meditate. I feel weird doing that with all the family home. It's weird having a full house again. Or half-full. But man, just wait until Noli gets here. Chris is leaving, and so is Tracy, around the same date. So me and Tony are girl-friendless. I wonder what I'm doing for New Years? I don't think I want to chill at Mark's party. It just dont' feel right. I know Mike and Priscilla aren't doin anything....Priscilla's mom has her birthday then, or something like that. New Year's last year was fun. I miss Trang and So.

What to do about anything? Shut up Suzy. I like the book that I bought for my bro. The Boondocks rules. I highly recommend it. Some things/people are just so fukkin smart. So fukkin cool. Insightfull. And other people are just idiots. I love people but I hate humanity. Sometimes I love humanity and hate people. It seems like one is a very dangerous mindset, (like, Hitler dangerous), but I can't decide which one. It never seems to be both at the same time though. I guess it wouldn't.

What's everybody up to? Sometimes I just need to be selfish...and I can't bring myself to. Of course not. I hate being rational. When was the last time I was irrational? You're so stuck up...it was probably like 10 minutes ago, you bastard.

Why is being a bastard such a bad thing? So a guy has no father...big deal. I just don't see how some words become insults.

I bought my sister a Wok. Did you know that guy from the cooking show was faking his accent?? My dad got mistaken for that guy twice at the border. My dad looks nothing like him. He's not even Chinese. Isn't it scary that the people at the border make such easy mistakes with appearance and racial-profiling? It's harmless. But think about it. It's kinda scary.

A lot of things are scary. Some people just don't get some things. *shrugs*. I don't think I could go my whole life eating just tofu.

Good night everybody.

If you stuck through this whole blog, it probably means I love you in one way or another.



Eh yo, what happened to peace?

"peace",
2thpick.

Posted by Scene -- at 1:12:00 a.m. | Permalink

My Eloquent Review of "The Last Samurai"

Okay. I was pissed that this movie was coming out. But even I decided to give it the benefit of the doubt (see: http://funkymonkeybutt.blogspot.com)...saying maybe aside from this being a Japanese story starring a short lil' white guy...maybe it would still be a solid movie.
Gah.

Wrong.

Here are some problems I had:

1) Tom Cruise's overacting: I mean, I've know he overacts sometimes. But this was ridiculous. I was cracking up during the scene where he wakes up in the samurai village and starts yelling for a drink. "Sake. uh....Sake. Sake! Sake!! SAKEE!!!! SSSSAAAAAAKKKKEEEEEEEE!!", as the camers whirls around, stirring the drama. Boo. One more time. (ahem). "SAAAAKKKKKEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Not only is Tom stealing Jean Claude Van Damme's roles, but he's also stealing his acting style.

2) The Girl: A big actress in Japan, brought over to America to star in a movie where she does SHIT ALL. She barely has any lines. Which brings me to the next point:

3) The Love Story: And no, I'm not one of those azns that get all miffed when they see a White Guy with a Hot Asian Girl on screen. BUT...this said WG killed HAG's husband! Not only that....but they dont' even talk to each other!! And they fall in love?? He killed your husband and doesn't even talk to you!!! Well...I guess it *is* sexy the way he whispers her name. Gah.

4) The Armor Scene: So, HAG is putting her dead husband's armor on Tom Cruise. Poignant. Wow. But then, they kiss. This is the big kissy-scene. While she's putting her dead husband's armor onto the man who killed him. And then she kisses him. Sorry for my clipped senteces. And bad grammar. But....I'm speechless. Doesn't anybody else find this creepy? Anyone who likes this love scene is some weird sort of pervert.

3) (and a half): Anyone notice that once again Asian males are desexualized?!?!? Tom seems to be the only man in the movie with a libido. Ah, the powerful virility of the White Guy.

4) Tom's Invulnerability: So, Tom is still on the American/White side. He gets ambushed by the Samurai. Proving he's a tough sunuvabitch, he takes out like 5 Samurai without any guns. Damn. Even the Samurai are impressed. He kills on particularly tough one in Red Armor. He's a badass. But then the lead samurai says "Take him away"....and they take him away. If he's so tough: WHY DOESN'T HE KEEP FIGHTING?? He's obviously better than they are already...sheesh.

5) Tom's Big Transformation: There is a moment in the film where they prove Tom's hard gained Samurai spirit by having him take out 5 guys with swords. It's complete with slow-motion spidey-sense effects. Great. Swooning music. And then...WOW! He did it! He beat them! But ugh...HE WAS ALREADY ABLE TO DO THAT (see: point 4).

6) Seppuku: In which a Samurai, when confronted with shame or defeat or death of their Master, kills themselves honorably and without fear. In the first seppuku scene, the Samurai has his head cut off before he can complete the ritual because "He wanted help". In the final scene, where Katsumoto (the *other* Last Samurai) wants to commit seppuku in order to redeem himself...he needs Tom Cruise's help. They don't even do it properly....(inserting blade into lower left belly, cutting across to the right side, and then upwards the ribcage, allowing the guts to fall out). Tom just hlpes Katsumoto bluntly and ungracefully stab himself.

Here's my problem: Katsumoto, the *real* hero of the film, isn't even allowed to die with dignity. Fuck guys...let him finish the ritual himself. I'm pissed off enough at this point that Tommy is the last man standing. But at least let the Japanese go the way he wants to go. Argh.

7) Tom's Influence: So Tom is able to turn that pussy of an Emperor into a Great Man. Bah. And he does it with this line: "Katsumoto, with his last breath, wanted you to know that"...STOP RIGHT THERE. Katsumoto's ACTUAL last breath was "Perfert...they're all perfect" (with regards to the cherry blossoms). Stop putting words into Katsumoto's mouth, you drunken bastard.

8) Okay. I could go on. But it's lunch time. And lunch is more important than this crappy, poorly-written, overacted, racially and cultural offensive, Hollywood piece of tripe.

And to be fair: some of the fight scenes were nice. Whoever played Katumoto was awesome. Some decent cinematography. Aside from the white guy, pretty historically correct.

A good idea for a movie, considering that only 30 years post, Japan would be fighting full scale wars with fully automated weapons, a military, etc. Interesting idea. Bad execution.

good day.

-toothpick

Posted by Scene -- at 1:38:00 p.m. | Permalink

"They tell me 'be a doctor', but I don't have the patients"

Well, it turns out I don't have the patience for Film Studies either. I guess it's the way my mind works...kinda like what MacArthur and I were discussing. We're smart. We like to learn. But I like to learn what I like to learn at that moment. I love film studies...but I could give a crap-and-a-half about post-feminist theory right now. I'm too busy deconstructing the relevance and usage of pastiche (and the subsequent pardigmatic shifts it causes to meaning) within Tarantino's Kill Bill.

And fuck ya, I'm using big words just to sound smart. And fuck yea, I know what I just said. And fuck yea, I'm jockin Ravenloft's blog. Whatever.

All of this to prove one thing: I'm smart, I know what I'm doing, and goddamit, effa school.



On that note: I'm killing school next semester. I know I know...I speak in contradictions. I don't care anymore. The unwillingness of people to accept their contradictions limits their potential and personalities. We as people are not singular, but rather the result of an infinite number of causes and conditions.

Like my good pal Bruce Lee, who I'm stealing all this mumbo-jumbo from (but no, not plagiarizing...those are my own words), I'm aiming to fully realize myself. No longer to realize the image of myself that I created...the illusion of "what I want to be", and then working towards that goal. No. There is no visible goal such as that. It's now just about realization, not actualization.

From this day forward you will notice a dramatic decrease of blogs rehashing the following script:

"I'm gonna start doing this"...."I'm gonna do less of that"...."If only I could...."

In place of that: "Yesterday I did:(blank)"......"I am now (blank)".....

We are now dealing with the present, folks, and documenting past-presents. None of this future crap, unless it just has to do with wistful idealizing and dreaming...that shit is fun. But no more promises, plans, or magic solutions. Only results.

The present, in all it's Zen-ly wonderfullness.

In that vein.....I've started my essay....finally. And I will post up when it's done. But I will not mention when I promise to have it done.

Wow. That was hard.

I would like to thank the following people and their wonderful Buddha-natures...the Tao speaks to you, and your Dharma touches me deeply:

Bruce (Lee, yes)
Ancestor Lu
Suzanne
Mark
Christianne
Kamal
Beau Sia
Saul Williams
Allen Ginsberg

You each possess old souls seeing the world through children's eyes...

I am melodramatic...

so let me break the tension by farting.

*ahhhhh*

nice.

φзαςє,
2thpick.

Posted by Scene -- at 12:33:00 a.m. | Permalink

Through the Looking Glass

I woke up to a wet pillow
and invented excuses for the
excessive wetness of my eye sockets.

Something in my eye!
Something in the air tells me
Something is up...

Something is spinning patchy quilts
in the attic of my skull, sulking spinsters
bringing new meaning to the ciphers
I conduct in my head, round and round
till the quilt covers my consciousness.

Like tamed birds in savage cages, I fall to sleep
when ungulfed in the Darkness.

I peck at the mirror image above my seeds,
the ghost that looks so much like myself,
that
winged thing
that won't
leave
me
alone

no matter how violently
I chew at it.

It pecks back, talons scratching,
I feel no hurt and yet bruises
form, bones get broken,
and blood paints a mural
positing the perpetual pain
of Prometheus.

I wake up, the quilt lifted leaving behind
a layer of moisture, cries for help
degraded to just plain crying.

In lieu of flying,
sight turns to sound,
touch turns to taste,
a funhouse mirror for
the other four senses;

I hear my crying and taste
my flight.

Somewhere through the looking glass,
It touches Its eyes and feels
Its bitterness.

No beaks to peck with, we punch,
fists colliding,
knuckles blushing deeply
from the sudden, violent intimacy,

a collision of allusions
reflection severed
and now suddenly
bloodbrothers:

Birds of a feather.

φзαςє,
2thpick.

Posted by Scene -- at 6:52:00 p.m. | Permalink

The Welcome Mat

Wow, what a horrible blog title. Okay. So this is my new address. Make yourself at home.

φзαςє,
2thpick.

Posted by Scene -- at 12:09:00 a.m. | Permalink