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Well. It's now 10:22 at the exact instant that I am typing at this keyboard, hearing the keys click.
You know, that's one of the things I always liked about typing. The sound of a keyboard at work just calms me, some how. I'm weird like that. I also think that feeling the wrapper of a soda bottle clinging suddenly to the bottle as you open it is one of the most fantastic sensations ever.
...Why do I always want to type weird as 'wierd'? I've made that typo since I was a kid, and it really bugs me.
This is probably going to look like a whole lot of short, one-line whatnots, and it's probably gonna look all dorky and hard to read. Maybe I should've done a bulleted list. But I hate bulleted lists in HTML, it takes a shitload of annoying tags to make them look anything decent.
My head is kind of funny right now, but I think that might have to do with the fact that I had my first experience drinking beer today. Okay, I CAN understand how some people MIGHT like it, since it does taste palatable... I just find it disgusting. It tastes just like it smells. Yech. I enjoy it more than cough syrup and rum, but less than vomiting violently.
Actually, that's a lie. Vomiting violently fucking hurts. I remember, because the Christmas before last, I got a nasty stomach flu. I remember details far too well. That I'd been playing Ocarina of Time, and felt a little queasy - I wrote it off, since, hey, I hate the Forest Temple. And then about an hour later, my guts decided to go on vacation in the toilet. Yeah, I'm probably giving too much info, but that's what free-association is for. It's to get it off my chest.
Did you know that regurgitated Pepto Bismol will stain plastics bright pink for the rest of eternity? No lie.
I guess I should say why I'm even WRITING this big-ass entry. This is probably going to be my last full entry from my current home in Rancho Cucamonga, California. I'm moving to Dallas this upcoming Saturday, to live with![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mutt12 and help him pay rent. Everything's packed. Almost everything's sorted. I just really don't want to screw this up.
We also had to kick out the friend I'd let live with me a few years back. It was about time - he was clearly taking advantage of our hospitality, and this was a good excuse to get rid of him. He left us one final parting blow, though - he left a good 30% of all his stuff here, including a car that he couldn't drive - suspended liscense due to driving without registration - and that had become one that nobody else could drive. It's been sitting in our driveway long enough that the engine is a block of dead, and the tires are starting to go flat. And he didn't take enough time before he was getting rushed out (by his dad, mostly, I assume) to figure out a way to get rid of it.
Sometimes, I wonder if I'm doing the same thing by leaving a lot of stuff here. I've talked to my mom about it, and she doesn't mind if a lot of it stays here, but I still feel bad, in retrospect.
Should I feel bad that I snagged some of the things that my old roomie left, including the FF6 OSV (which I'd bought him for Christmas to replace his lost copy of the American version of the same), a Torchic plushie, and a pendant he never wore, ever? I mean... aside from the torchic, I'd be surprised if he even remembered he had it.
...I really want a Squirrelly Wrath t-shirt. I'm sad. I adore Foamy like most folks adore Happy Tree Friends.
Holy damn, my closet scares me. I really, really hope there's nothing I would've wanted to take with me in there, because it's scary frightening. All that I know is in there is my Pathetically Generic And Bad Porn Tape Collection, my (musical) keyboard, two messed up soft DDR pads, and a very unfortunately damaged copy of the Sonic The Hedgehog comic, ish #3. It's special because they introduce Bunnie in that one! ...It's also special because that was back before it tried to be serious, and as of thus had a quality of writing not seen outside of Scholastic '1000 jokes for kids' books.
Holy fucking shit,jchance sent me a lot of copied anime back in my MSTing days.
I've been thinking of getting back into writing, but it seems like my muse is bound and determined to get Curse of the Platinum Winds (my upcoming RPG) finished, despite the fact I've stubbornly insisted on using a homebrew, and as of thus, will never COMPLETE the stat/combat system.
I wonder if I could ever be truly monogamous. I enjoy both the male and the female way too much to miss out on them. Of course, I've never actually been with a real female, so I'm just thinking on wankery terms. Maybe if I found a guy, I could put aside the 'damn, I need some breasts to fondle' and similar thoughts.
rainbow_roo has me kind of worried. I want to help her, very, very badly. I wish I could stay in California longer, for the sole purpose of helping her get over her pain. Makes me feel like an ass that I can't. Too much is planned, it's too close to everything changing.
My head hurts. Why does my head hurt? Is it because of the beer I tried earlier? I know I can still fucking taste the swill. I think I still have a mountain dew in the fridge. Computer, don't crash on me while I go check and/or get it.
Ah, truly the elixyr of the Gods. Or God, whatever your belief system may be.
...why am I so insistant upon the Bahamut = God/Tiamat = Satan theology I've mentally set into stone? I mean, why am I so insistant that I have to randomly toss out the mention? I've got it in Curse of the Platinum Winds, I was originally going to put it into my Tales of Destiny-based IRCRPG (me trying to put it in is part of what ruined the game solid, in fact)..
I'm awierdo wier weirdo. AND WHY DO I KEEP WANTING TO DO WIERD? ...stupid i before e except after c or when sounded like a as in neighbor and weigh (You don't pronounce it wayrd, do you? so it should really be wierd! But it ISN'T. What the FUCK, English Language.)
Sometimes I think everything would be easier if we all spoke Vogon.
Why did they have to give Ford Prefect dreadlocks in the upcoming HHGTTG movie? He could've been the same actor, and EVERYTHING, and it would've WORKED, but then they gave him DREADS and now he's HERMES CONRAD. The fuck.
I wonder if I should stop. This has gone on pretty damn long. It's now 10:51.
I only have 31 hours before I no longer live in California, possibly ever again. Cripes, that's scary.
You know, that's one of the things I always liked about typing. The sound of a keyboard at work just calms me, some how. I'm weird like that. I also think that feeling the wrapper of a soda bottle clinging suddenly to the bottle as you open it is one of the most fantastic sensations ever.
...Why do I always want to type weird as 'wierd'? I've made that typo since I was a kid, and it really bugs me.
This is probably going to look like a whole lot of short, one-line whatnots, and it's probably gonna look all dorky and hard to read. Maybe I should've done a bulleted list. But I hate bulleted lists in HTML, it takes a shitload of annoying tags to make them look anything decent.
My head is kind of funny right now, but I think that might have to do with the fact that I had my first experience drinking beer today. Okay, I CAN understand how some people MIGHT like it, since it does taste palatable... I just find it disgusting. It tastes just like it smells. Yech. I enjoy it more than cough syrup and rum, but less than vomiting violently.
Actually, that's a lie. Vomiting violently fucking hurts. I remember, because the Christmas before last, I got a nasty stomach flu. I remember details far too well. That I'd been playing Ocarina of Time, and felt a little queasy - I wrote it off, since, hey, I hate the Forest Temple. And then about an hour later, my guts decided to go on vacation in the toilet. Yeah, I'm probably giving too much info, but that's what free-association is for. It's to get it off my chest.
Did you know that regurgitated Pepto Bismol will stain plastics bright pink for the rest of eternity? No lie.
I guess I should say why I'm even WRITING this big-ass entry. This is probably going to be my last full entry from my current home in Rancho Cucamonga, California. I'm moving to Dallas this upcoming Saturday, to live with
mutt12 and help him pay rent. Everything's packed. Almost everything's sorted. I just really don't want to screw this up.We also had to kick out the friend I'd let live with me a few years back. It was about time - he was clearly taking advantage of our hospitality, and this was a good excuse to get rid of him. He left us one final parting blow, though - he left a good 30% of all his stuff here, including a car that he couldn't drive - suspended liscense due to driving without registration - and that had become one that nobody else could drive. It's been sitting in our driveway long enough that the engine is a block of dead, and the tires are starting to go flat. And he didn't take enough time before he was getting rushed out (by his dad, mostly, I assume) to figure out a way to get rid of it.
Sometimes, I wonder if I'm doing the same thing by leaving a lot of stuff here. I've talked to my mom about it, and she doesn't mind if a lot of it stays here, but I still feel bad, in retrospect.
Should I feel bad that I snagged some of the things that my old roomie left, including the FF6 OSV (which I'd bought him for Christmas to replace his lost copy of the American version of the same), a Torchic plushie, and a pendant he never wore, ever? I mean... aside from the torchic, I'd be surprised if he even remembered he had it.
...I really want a Squirrelly Wrath t-shirt. I'm sad. I adore Foamy like most folks adore Happy Tree Friends.
Holy damn, my closet scares me. I really, really hope there's nothing I would've wanted to take with me in there, because it's scary frightening. All that I know is in there is my Pathetically Generic And Bad Porn Tape Collection, my (musical) keyboard, two messed up soft DDR pads, and a very unfortunately damaged copy of the Sonic The Hedgehog comic, ish #3. It's special because they introduce Bunnie in that one! ...It's also special because that was back before it tried to be serious, and as of thus had a quality of writing not seen outside of Scholastic '1000 jokes for kids' books.
Holy fucking shit,
jchance sent me a lot of copied anime back in my MSTing days.I've been thinking of getting back into writing, but it seems like my muse is bound and determined to get Curse of the Platinum Winds (my upcoming RPG) finished, despite the fact I've stubbornly insisted on using a homebrew, and as of thus, will never COMPLETE the stat/combat system.
I wonder if I could ever be truly monogamous. I enjoy both the male and the female way too much to miss out on them. Of course, I've never actually been with a real female, so I'm just thinking on wankery terms. Maybe if I found a guy, I could put aside the 'damn, I need some breasts to fondle' and similar thoughts.
rainbow_roo has me kind of worried. I want to help her, very, very badly. I wish I could stay in California longer, for the sole purpose of helping her get over her pain. Makes me feel like an ass that I can't. Too much is planned, it's too close to everything changing.My head hurts. Why does my head hurt? Is it because of the beer I tried earlier? I know I can still fucking taste the swill. I think I still have a mountain dew in the fridge. Computer, don't crash on me while I go check and/or get it.
Ah, truly the elixyr of the Gods. Or God, whatever your belief system may be.
...why am I so insistant upon the Bahamut = God/Tiamat = Satan theology I've mentally set into stone? I mean, why am I so insistant that I have to randomly toss out the mention? I've got it in Curse of the Platinum Winds, I was originally going to put it into my Tales of Destiny-based IRCRPG (me trying to put it in is part of what ruined the game solid, in fact)..
I'm a
Sometimes I think everything would be easier if we all spoke Vogon.
Why did they have to give Ford Prefect dreadlocks in the upcoming HHGTTG movie? He could've been the same actor, and EVERYTHING, and it would've WORKED, but then they gave him DREADS and now he's HERMES CONRAD. The fuck.
I wonder if I should stop. This has gone on pretty damn long. It's now 10:51.
I only have 31 hours before I no longer live in California, possibly ever again. Cripes, that's scary.
