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[09 Nov 2007|02:18pm] |
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mood |
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 disappointed |
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Well, well, well. Three holes in the ground.
It has been made abundantly clear to me this week that despite my previous assumptions to the contrary, I am actually a very bad communicator and a very bad person. I'm not overreacting to one event - this has been insinuated, implied, and outright told to me by half a dozen different people, in different places, on different days.
It seems I strongly come across as a needlessly aggressive, racist, sexist arsehole.
Yep.
I hate all women, all black, asian, middle-eastern people, and I go out of my way to show this in everything I say and do.
Since this is the impression I am giving, I have decided to just pull my head in. I'm over explaining and justifying myself to people who I considered good friends; people I thought actually knew me and understood me. Since it's coming from more than one person in completely discrete situations, I have to accept that the only thing in common is me. I think too fast, and my thoughts are so chaotic that I find it extremely difficult to communicate sometimes, thus seemingly everything out of my mouth lately is offenive and bigoted.
I'm so fucking tired I can barely see straight to walk up the stairs. But I cannot, just cannot be arsed trying to defend, excuse, justify, explain or quantify myself anymore.
So for the foreseeable future, I'm closing all doors. I am not going anywhere except work and home. I won't be posting or commenting on LJ, nor conversing on MSN. The only board I will be posting on where people know me offline is OccultCorpus. Even at work I'm going to be clamping my mouth shut, lest I do more damage.
I am, in effect, severing all ties with anyone I know outside Chrissy and my immediate family, starting... now.
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[08 Nov 2007|02:20pm] |
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mood |
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 contemplative |
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I was talking to Sgt. Matt today about stupid old Const. Dave's comments to me yesterday.
Turns out old Const. Dave was a pugilist who, back in the day, was charged with grievous bodily harm after beating someone to within an inch of their lives (I donno if this was before or after he was a cop).
Funny how that works, eh? How people who possess a flaw will actively pick it out and criticise it in other people. Seems like by trying to convince me to "chill", old Const. Dave is trying to placate some of his own demons.
Keep it to yourself, cuntrash.
Yes, I'm an aggressive person. No, it's not a bad thing. I keep my aggression in check until I need to use it, which is extremely rarely. It's a handy thing to have sometimes, especially if the rest of the time you are a smiling, easy-going person - it really makes people sit up and pay attention if I suddenly raise my voice.
Chrissy is a soft touch. I like this about her. She is gentle and empathic and sweet. She wouldn't, however, want to be with a man who was the same. She feels safe with me if we go out, because she knows that in a confrontational/emergency situation I am able to take control and not let things get out of hand. Even something as simple as our recent headclash with the real estate - they just shrug Christine off, but they pay attention when it's me they are speaking to, and they don't try fuck me around the way they do with Chrissy.
Of course, mindless aggression isn't a great thing, but my aggression is very, very mindful. I went through a lot of shit growing up, facing violence on a daily basis and I very nearly went down a bad road... but I didn't. I hauled myself up, got my shit together, and instead of denying something which by then had become an integral part of my programming, I took ownership of it, made it mine, and put a leash on it.
The people who know me understand this. The people who don't would do well to read carefully before opening their mouths to comment on any perceived aggression.
As an aside, Clanky Rinda was very nice to me today, politely joining in a conversation I was having with another sergeant about movies. I was polite in return.
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[05 Nov 2007|05:41pm] |
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mood |
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 incendiary |
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Okay.
Point the first: I fucking hate Brisbane roads. There are traffic lights every 20 metres, and they are so poorly synchronised that you will be sitting at a dead stop at a green light because the fourth set of lights down the road is red, and there are so many cars that not only are you at a stop four sets of lights ahead of time, but by the time that red set turns green the others will have turned red, so you get to stop at all of them, too.
Point the second: The Veronicas can go eat some ebola and fucking rot. Those stupid, make-up-smeared, smirking little faces under stupid heads of hair are all over everything at the moment. TV, magazines, the newspapers, the internet. Ridiculous, no-talent pop hacks with nothing to contribute to music, let alone the world, and they are so fucking prevalent I end up rocking myself to sleep every night, chanting "Can't sleep. The Veronicas will eat me."
Point the third: Next time Mum calls me because her computer (which has the same sorts of resident and active virus/malware protection mine does) becomes so full of worms and trojans that it spontaneously locks everyone out with a self-set password, she can pay some other cunt to spend hours fixing it, and take the money out of Marnie's allowance. Christ on a bike, every few months it's:
"Joey, I think we have a virus..."
"Is the spyware up to date and running?"
"Yes."
"Have you downloaded anything strange or unusual?"
"No."
"Then how did you get a virus?"
"Donno..."
And not just a virus - the machine is so riddled with virtual nasties it makes the contagious diseases ward in an Indian hospital look like a bottle of Dettol. Fuck.
Point the fourth: If I am expected to play nursemaid to some neophyte, wannabe occultist who is not willing to get off their own arses and read a book/website or actually physically do something in order to expand their own knowledge/experience instead of just trying to talk themselves up at me one more time, I swear to fucking Ayesha that I will evoke the spirit of Aleister Crowley into their colons and wash my hands of what happens next. Nothing for nothing you fuckrods - don't expect to impress me with all of your posturing when you can't even comprehend an extremely simple concept on your own or show me a shred of evidence that you've done anything you claim to have. Fuck off and go become an Emo or something - at least wankery is accepted, nay encouraged among that lot.
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[04 Nov 2007|02:23am] |
I am so very fucking drunk right now. Was totally rad catching up with Alicia and her new boy. He is a top, top bloke. Some parts of the night were pretty bizarre, such as an American, an Australian and a Brit discussing international politics.
But still. I put down a bottle of Johnny Black and several tequila shots, on top of some amazing steak and fantastic sausages and marinated chicken wings.
A good night.
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[03 Nov 2007|03:42pm] |
Great night last night, even though I stayed dry ;) A bunch of surprise faces turned up which made it even better, and I even broke someone's brain. Granted, it was a 19yr old stonerboy with stupid hair and off his chops on super-punch, but still. Giggles were had.
Tonight was going to be a haul into the city for drinks, but now it's a BBQ beside the pool wiith drinks. Win.
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[02 Nov 2007|12:01pm] |
Was just trawling through some old folders looking for something and found these lyrics I wrote when I was in Malaclypse. I really loved this song. The music in particular was so dirty, so grindy, so... awesome.
Texas
Endless day on an endless road
Got a dirty mind, gotta shed this load
Neon signs flash and call my name
A place to rest and find some game
The stench of smoke, cologne and alcohol
Sightless trophies stare down from the wall
Can they see the other inside my head?
Hear the nameless thunder of excited dread
I can hear it crying
I can feel it trying
I can hear it calling
I can feel me falling
The jukebox wails somewhere in the gloom
As I slowly make my way across the room
Billiards crack and roll, I see her there
A drop of heaven with midnight hair
And the bluest eyes in the whole damn world
In the face of such a pretty little girl
Want to take her down, come and play with me
Reckless painful wanton lust depravity
I can hear it crying
I can feel it trying
I can hear it calling
I can feel me falling
Through a blood-soaked bourbon haze I see her face
In a fuck-stained halo of leather and lace
I trace a finger over snow white skin
Angelic form hiding hellish sin…
No feeling now as bloody teardrops fall
Streaks of crimson pain on the motel wall
A sightless trophy with a second smile
To keep me company a little while.
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Copied verbatim from ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) twitchfetish |
[01 Nov 2007|10:15pm] |
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mood |
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cranky |
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music |
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Mudvayne - Dig |
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Dear Everyone,
The next person to send me a fucking Facebook request, or asks me to make a Myspace, gets glassed in the genitals. And the face.
FUCK!
1. Myspace is for emos. Deal with it. It's also owned by a fucking megacorporation with a history of stealing people's shit for spamming.
2. Facebook is run by ex-US govt members from a department whose purpose it was to TRACK PEOPLE'S IDENTITIES and collect as much information about them as possible.
When you send me a request to join your fucking Facebook or whatever, you expose my email address to MORE FUCKING SPAM. 12 months ago, my gmail account was spam-free. Totally. Not a sausage. Now I get 20-30 spams a day. Thank fuck for a decent filter.
If a webpage asks you to put in an email address of a friend or whatever, DON'T FUCKING PUT IN MINE. I don't CARE what it is, I don't CARE if it'll win me a million fucking monopoly dollars, I don't CARE if it will get my dick sucked from here to Narnia.
I. Don't. Want. It.
Keep your fuckin spam and your identity theft to yourselves.
Christ.
Yup, what he said.
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[01 Nov 2007|12:26am] |
Maddox tickles my LOL button:
On red lipstick:
There are very few people who look good in red lipstick, and those people usually juggle for a living. I once met a girl who was able to pull it off, so I let her buy me dinner. Later that night she was making out with my wang, when I realized that all that lipstick was rubbing off. So I evacuated my moan-maker from her face hole, took some silverware for my trouble, and snuck out of her tent.
Describing a certain kind of dress:
If I had boobs, the last thing I'd want to do with them is cover them up with curtains, though I'd probably eventually cover them with curtains when I'd exhausted everything else (oil, soap, other boobs, my hands, the lid of a photocopy machine, the mouths of other lesbians, etc). Quit disrespecting your chest hams.
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[31 Oct 2007|11:11pm] |
One of the sergeants at work was talking about a severe storm warning for Brisbane tonight. I laughed. We haven't had a severe storm in at least 10 years, not in Brisbane proper. We get shouted at by the news "ZOMG! Big stromz lol!!1!" and then everywhere BUT Brisbane gets smashed.
I'm not complaining about the rain we do get though... gods know we need every drop. It's raining quite sedately now, and it's rather pleasant.
I just miss the almight godfuck storms we used to get, the ones that felt like Armageddon.
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[31 Oct 2007|10:13pm] |
Hmm... when did Halloween start to suck?
It seems tonight, in Brisbane at least, is all about running around egging houses, cars, pedestrians, whatever.
Good thing nobody egged me on the way home, or the blood covering their faces wouldn't have been out of a little bottle.
Bah humbug 'n shit, if that applies to Halloween.
People fail.
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[30 Oct 2007|11:27pm] |
Sweet fucking misery.
Note to self: Never, ever watch this while on acid.
Or, alternatively, do.
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[30 Oct 2007|10:54pm] |
Fucking brutal night at work tonight - was more like a Saturday night than a Tuesday. Thankfully the crews on my channel were extremely helpful, and willing to go screaming across several suburbs with lights and sirens blaring at a moment's notice.
I'm sitting here, exhausted and bored, with nothing to do. I can't even work on my assignments as I'm waiting for my tutor to email me back about some questions I asked. I've watched all of my Heroes episodes, and can't watch NCIS or Six Feet Under as I'm watching them with Chrissy and she's currently in Z-Land. Even the ratties are asleep. I can't play WoW 'cos it's server-down night, and I've finished most of the single player games I have (I'm a bit bored with Bioshock).
I don't want to go to bed because I rarely get a good splash of time to myself, and don't want to waste it sleeping. I don't want to go out again, 'cos I'm lazy and tired. I don't want to read 'cos it will put me to sleep (although I have a LOT of reading to do, not least of which is making a start on the Three Books of Occult Philosophy). I wish it was raining, so I could go for a walk.
Hmm... just got involved in an argument about the differences between Voodoo and Hoodoo. This should distract me for a while.
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| Can't get this damned song out of my head... |
[30 Oct 2007|02:12am] |
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mood |
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 sleepy |
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music |
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Timberland - The Way I Are |
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On and off for the last couple of days, I have sat and stared at my Post Entry link on LJ, wishing for something cool or interesting or funny to post about. I haven't been able to come up with anything.
Tonight on the way home from work though, I was reminded of something that happened to me last week.
I was laying back in my chair at the end of one of my nightmare shifts, half awake, half dozing, just enjoying the weirdness that the hypnogogic state brings. Suddenly I found myself riding home along the river, and seeing something in the road ahead of me. I pulled over next to what looked like a rolled-up carpet, and saw two pale feet sticking out of one end. They were cold to the toch, and the smell coming from what was actually a body three-quarters wrapped in a torn, stained sheet was less than pleasant. I angled my bike to block oncoming traffic and activated the hazard lights before calling 000.
I was jerked rather violently from this half-dream by a sergeant talking loudly next to me, and sat there blinking for a couple of minutes trying to sort out what was real and what was dream. On the way home, traffic was much heavier than my dream, and the morning was much brighter. But as I approached the exact spot where the body was laying in my dream, I could see flashing lights ahead, and traffic all merging into the far lane. My heart jumped into my throat and I started to sweat.
Only to see that it was a garbage truck ambling along, stopping every few metres to scoop up a bin with a robotic arm and dump the contents into its back.
Urf. Talk about weird.
I am happy though - tonight I saw something on my friend's page that really incensed me, but I just chalked it up to ignorance, belligerence, and loudmouth, soapbox, know-it-all-know-nothing-ism and went on my way without commenting. I'm getting better.
I finished at 0145 this morning, and have to be back at work at 1330. That's really not cool.
And I can hear the stormbird in the distance...
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[29 Oct 2007|01:22pm] |
I just bought V is for Vagina by Puscifer.
It's awesome.
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[27 Oct 2007|09:28am] |
Saw Caleb yesterday, and he liked the (very rough) design I gave him. He's pretty swamped right now so it will be about 2 weeks before he has sketched it up, but I'm happy to wait for quality.
My dad is a Scorpio, and in the past I came up with a cool tribal scorpion tatt design for him. He totally digs it, but the silly prick keeps losing them, so I've had to draw up close to a dozen of them over the last 6 years or so because he never pulls his finger out and gets it inked. Last night while I was getting my mad drunk on, he sends me a text asking for YET ANOTHER one. Apparently this time it's 'cos his tattooist moved to Townsville, but for fuck's sake. I installed Photoshop CS2 again yesterday, so I might sketch 'n scan, that way I have a soft copy for when he loses this one.
I will endeavour to really hit my current assignments today. My slackness has been unforgiveable, and if I want to start my own business, I'm going to have to start pulling my own finger out.
No plans for tonight yet, but I am fucking skint, so I might just stay in.
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[25 Oct 2007|12:30pm] |
Achieved a little bit of retail therapy today. I scored myself a Classic 80GB iPod, since my old iRiver is useless now that some arseface stole the recharger, Seasons 1 & 2 of NCIS (and if Ten keep going the way they are with repeats, I'm going to buy Season 3 as well just to see the fucking end of it), and a really nice Swarovski crystal necklace for Chrissy that she wanted for Christmas. I'll give it to her today as a surprise - little does she know I have the matching earrings on layby for Christmas proper.
I have to say I think it's pretty damn cheap of Apple not to give you a wall charger for the iPod.
I was planning to go see Caleb re my tattoo this arvo, but after a lot of Johnny Black, four hours sleep and a lot of running around this morning I feel like an extra in Dawn of the Dead. I will go see him tomorrow morning - Chrissy has offered to pay for my left forearm tatt for Christmas. Woot.
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[25 Oct 2007|01:36am] |
Aaahhh... chili chunks, Johhny Black, politics, scene dramas, laughs... it's all good.
I'm glad I stayed in tonight.
Saw IV most probably tomorrow night.
Peace out.
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[23 Oct 2007|06:27pm] |
Tonight is my last nightmare shift.
Tomorrow night, I want to get my mad drinky-drunk on, but I'm not sure how to go about it.
Should I find somewhere "out" to go ( I have no idea what's on tomorrow night)?
Or should I stay in with a movie or a couple episodes of Heroes, and get plastered at home?
See, both have their attractions - going out is cool 'cos I get to see people, but staying in is cool because I don't have to see people, and is much, much cheaper.
Leave a comment if you care.
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[22 Oct 2007|08:00am] |
I'm up to Season 3 of Six Feet Under, and I have no idea what went wrong. The first two seasons were really good, but now it just seems to be made of fail, lose, wrong and no. The characters are all just bumming about the place, doing inconsequential stuff, nothing is resolved, nothing happens, nothing changes. Bleh.
To balance this out, I am up to the last few episodes of Heroes, and it just keeps getting better and better. I'm loving this show so much, it's going to be difficult when I've watched it all and have to wait for a second season. Blast.
For those of you who have watched the show, I have a (possibly spoilertastic) question, the answer to which will save me having to fuck around and find which episode/disc shows it...
( Read more... )
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[22 Oct 2007|05:56am] |
Left my phone at home last night, and came home to find it's fucked. It won't even switch on. Prick of a fucking thing. Now this means I have to go down to the Vodafone store and stand in line for 2 hours sometime today, just to have one of the pimply-faced little dweebs in a red polo shirt spend 10 minutes fucking around with the On button before telling me it has to go away to be fixed, which will take 6-8 weeks.
FUCK.
EDIT: I have just plugged it in to charge it, and it seems to work. The problem is, I only charged it yesterday, so it shouldn't have died already. Damn. At the very least I'm going to need a new battery.
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