Tuesday, May 20, 2008

Back to it.

Comment moderation is now the order of the day. My apologies for the inconvenience.

Saturday, May 10, 2008

Epic

Photobucket

Oy.

Wednesday, April 30, 2008

"What can I say?"

"Hey, little girl..."

So, okay. Mister Cicero has a crush. Gods, what wimp I am for even writing this.

Mister Cicero has a BIG crush. And it's for someone who is absolute trouble, all the way 'round, but still... Brains, and will, and charisma, and beauty, and pain, and happiness, and all the rest. You appeal to the best parts of me, and the worst ones, all at once. You make me nurture the human, emotional side that I reject so easily for cold logic and reason. You make the fucking sun come up in my world, kid. And I'm not even really sure how or when that happened. One moment, I was the master of my own destiny, the next, I was yours.

"So, hey, little girl,
I wanna be your boyfriend."

:)

I know the bullshit and drama that would come along with it, and I'd gladly take it all, and more, just for the chance to be with you. I know I'm not your "type" and that you're not mine. So what? You can't scare me.

"Do you love me babe?
What do you say?"

C'mon, you've even gotten me dancing and singing. Shows, and bad games of pool, and out of breath bike rides. You make me happy, and I like to think I do the same for you. Take a chance with me.

Lol. Alright, I'll stop inflicting my twitterpation on the rest of you.

:)

p.s. Bonus tunes:
I Think I Love You, The Partridge Family

Bleed The Freak, Alice In Chains

p.p.s.
Is this the digital version of telling it on the mountain? I think so.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

One more time around.

I woke the same as any other day
Except a voice was in my head
It said, "seize the day, pull the trigger,
Drop the blade, and watch the rolling heads."

The day I tried to live,
I stole a thousand beggars change
And gave it to the rich

The day I tried to win,
I dangled from the power lines
And let the martyrs stretch.



...
I woke the same as any other day, you know
I should have stayed in bed.

---

Bonus noise:


Wake Up, Rage Against The Machine

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

Not funny.

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
.

Fuck.

Sunday, February 03, 2008

Yes, we can.

I won't be the only asshole to post this, but I'll give it a couple thoughts.

I do not support Senator Obama for President, not directly. I am an undecided Democratic voter. I will work for our nominee, whoever that is, because I believe that our worst is better than the best the GOP can offer. This video is part of the reason I believe that.

Friday, January 11, 2008

Let's visit the 90's for a sec.

Just some thoughts, via song. Not exactly something new from me, I guess.

Feeling sort of wistful and melancholy, and most of these tunes carry strong memories or emotions for me. I may have posted some of them before.

And I'd give up forever to touch you
Cause I know that you feel me somehow
You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be
And I don't want to go home right now


Iris, Goo Goo Dolls

Sucked Out, Superdrag

The World I Know, Collective Soul

In The Meantime
, Spacehog

Counting Blue Cars, Dishwalla

Brick, Ben Folds Five

I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles), The Proclaimers

Crash Into Me, Dave Matthews Band

Standing Outside a Broken Phone Booth with Money in My Hand, Primitive Radio Gods

There, now that's a decent set list.

Cheers

Thursday, January 03, 2008

I wonder how old he is?

(Note: the following is a cross-post of a diary I wrote at the kollective this morning. It is not my habit to cross-post items, but I felt like this merited an exception.)

Looks like he's about 16 or 17. I'd guess he's probably closer to 20, but that's a stretch. The two girls who have been waiting to greet him look even younger.

I wonder how old he is?

The girls have been here a while. They both seem excited. I'm not trying to eavesdrop, but I pick up on the fact that Cody is coming home, and that it's been a long time, and that one of them is his girlfriend (I think). Idle chatter, until I hear someone say Iraq.

I'm standing in PDX, waiting for a good friend to arrive home from Boston. I'm a little early, so I take one of the available seats in the waiting area. The chattering pair of girls are two seats away. A couple of punk-rock chicks, carrying a sign welcoming "Tom-Tom" are the only other folks talking. Everyone else looks tired, subdued.

One of the girls mentions Iraq. She makes few breathless phone calls, then settles back in to wait. Won't be long. They lament the security that will keep them from running up and hugging their friend as soon as he disembarks.

Cody is off the plane before my friend, C____, so I get a good look. Still in his BDU's, First Cavalry Division, by the patch. He looks tired and happy. As soon as he enters the non-restricted area, the girls are on him. A long hug with one, while the other takes some pictures.

I wonder how old he is?

Everyone else seems to be studiously directing their attention elsewhere. A few sidelong glances, maybe. A couple of his fellow passengers size him up as they walk through.

Here comes C____. She looks tired and happy, too. We exchange a quick hug, and head downstairs, to baggage claim. Some idle chit-chat about the holidays. We wind up waiting a few feet from Cody and his welcoming crew. C____ says she has to find the loo, so I babysit the carry-ons for a few.

I wonder how old he is?

"15 months." More eavesdropping, but that's really all I catch. 15 months? Gods, he's had at least one birthday, "over there". He's fingering a pack of Marlboro Reds. Looks at the door, then the baggage carousel. Plays with the pack some more. I'm looking around, and there's still no one that even looks interested.

"Excuse me."
"Yeah?"
"Did you just get back?"
"Yeah."
Offer him my hand. Manage to choke out a "thank you", and a "welcome home". Seems like I should have more to say, but I can't think of what. One of the girls asks him if this happens often. He shrugs.

C____ is back. We're watching the carousel go 'round. More idle chit-chat, this time about about architecture in Boston, and on Martha's Vineyard. Here comes her bag.

"Thanks, again." Another handshake. He sort of smiles, just a bit. The girls start asking him what color his luggage is, teasing him that it's probably pink. C____ is ready to get home, so we leave.

I wonder how old he is?

Update [2008-1-3 7:51:31 by Marcus Tullius]: jimstaro has an excellent diary up, concerning those serving in the military, and the shortages they face.