purge

Blarg purge! You don't even want to know how many blogs I write, the ones that you actually see are just ones that I either stuck with long enough to finish, or felt good enough about to publish. I write about everything, and nothing. Everyday minutiae, condensed into a 5 paragraph digital shout. The main reason I don't publish a lot of these blogs is because I am trying to make this less personal and more about ideas and thoughts. The problem with my MySpace blog was that it was too personal and I used it like a blunt instrument. Here are a few of the post that I didn't finish.

"atm ninja?" I am not sure where I was trying to go with this one, but I am guessing something really cool happened at the bus stop.

I left work at 5:55pm the bus would arrive at the stop outside of Starbucks at 6:07pm, but I would not go straight there. I first had to drop by the ATM so I could pull out some cash to give to my roommate for this months cable bill. As I made strode towards the cash machine, I noticed another man who was clearly making for the same machine I was. There were a lot people downtown because today was the second day of the Mariners season. So I increased my pace and attack angle, and easily caught the guy off guard, deftly removing my wallet from my pocket, flipping it open and inserting my card. I couldn't help but notice in the reflection of the camera's protective screen, how indignant the guy was over the fact that I had so easily overtaken him. Clearly, he was pissed, but little did he know, he was dealing with an ATM ninja. I was in and out of that bitch in less than a 45 seconds. Cash and card in hand. Strolling confidently past the man I had just usurped, I couldn't help but feel pretty bad ass. The faux-hawk and aviators were a plus at that point.

I arrived at my stop with about 3 minutes to spare before the 66 came. 1

"jeff & those gays" I actually have a finished version of this blog waiting to be published, I just thought that the second paragraph was kind of funny.

I liked Jeff Tweedy more when he was getting run over by the wagon, instead of riding it. That is all I am really going to say about the new Wilco album. The first half is pretty good albeit a little jammy and at times it can be pretty schmaltzy even in Tweedy standards. It really just goes to show where drugs can be good for you m'kay.

I've been living in Ballard for approximately 3 weeks and I think it's the best decision I've made in years, actually the hair removal from my back via laser, now that was the best decision I ever made. I've been doing a lot of thinking and exploring within Ballard and have decided it is probably the best neighborhood in Seattle, even if it is a little out of the way, we're a helicopter ride away from the nearest I-5 entrance/exit. That, as far as I can tell is the only downside and even then it isn't a downside because I don't own one of those auto-mo-whats-its, and I-5 is primarily for the gays. Word on the street.

I think the main reason why I love it here so much is because it's like a small town in a large city, and it reminds me of my hometown before it started turning into a strip mall. Fuck

"big love" This one actually had some legs! The jokes are good, and topical but I started getting a little self-righteous there at the end.

1: As much as I like to think that thousands of people are reading this blog, the truth is that it's somewhere closer to 527 people, and out of those people, about 132 actually can't leave the house unless they read a fresh blarg written by me on Monday or Wednesday. So, to you I apologize.

2: If I am not writing inter-blogs, than I am scouring these nets for my own obscure fetish. What is it? Sock Puppet BDSM. Now the internet knows and much like this girl, I am no longer safe.

Anyway, good weather has seemed to grace this fair city, and like rats escaping a sinking ship, the tourists are coming out from their hiding places in retarded droves. There are only a few things I hate about living here, but the number one thing I can't stand are the fucking tourists. Holy shit do I hate them. I hate for the fact that they think they need to act like "Seattle-ites" when they come here. They mostly try and accomplish this feat by going in to any Starbucks they happen upon and order the same ridiculous drink they get themselves when they are at home in Bum-fuck-nowheres-ville, all the while wearing a t-shirt adorned with Kurt Cobain's face that they bought at Sea-Tac airport when they got off the plane, while I stand in line behind them considering whether the jail time is worth me smashing a vacant coffee mug over the back of their ignorant skulls.

Case in point. I was a block away from work, and as I walked by what I can only assume was a large Mormon family, I heard three of the younger female members exclaim; "Oh look! An art store! Let's go in." While I could pick that quote apart alone like a pretentious fuck for several paragraphs, I won't because what they did next was absolutely hilarious. They went in to the store. Which is really where it gets funny because the place they went into was clearly a frame shop, and very obviously marked that way. With the multitude of galleries located in the Pioneer Square area they chose a framing shop to go in to. I wish now that I had just waited in front of the shop and looked through the window just to see the looks on their faces as they realized their mistake, if they realized it at all.

My point is, when I am touristing it up in a new place, I don't try and act like I am down with the cities "theme". I do everything within my power to avoid the places where other tourists go. Not bec

"sweet jane" This one was supposed to be about the clerk at the QFC that I have a huge crush on but I wasted to much time writing about the scene with my mother and grew board with the whole thing. Such is life.

When your own Mother has lost faith in you, you pretty much know you are fucked.

I flew home last weekend mainly to visit my family. While sitting at dinner with my Mom and sister, my Mom mentioned that she might want to sell her house. She had said this before, citing the fact that it's way to huge for one person to be living in all by themselves, which is true. But oh internets, if you could only see this place! It was built over 120 years ago, and my Mom took it upon herself to restore, and even add on to it. It is truly a beautiful house, and one of the first places I actually ever called 'home'. I digress however, when she said that she was looking to sell, I sarcastically (big surprise!) asked "Where will your grandchildren come and play?" Scoffing she replied "Do you have a girlfriend?" "No." "I wonder how much I can get for this place now?" Burn! She is right to ponder though. My siblings have terrible taste when it comes to picking boy/girlfriends. My brother is especially gifted in when it comes to

I've been spotty, at best, when it comes to posting on time or frequently. Not that any of your internets give a shit, hopefully Peter Means Rock will come to my aid with a spanking new website and I will be able to give up this blargging crap for good.