sometimes a man gets carried away, when he feels like he should be having his fun

hit up cpk with the usual suspects this evening. caitlin mentioned on the walk over in our black hoodies and somewhat unnecessary sunglasses-wearing that we actually kind of looked like the usual suspects. as usual, i tried to play it off like it wasn’t an accident, until we both realised that i’ve never actually seen the usual suspects. oops.

i spent the last few days molesting my childhood, and i must say, it was kind of fun. this video is going to be creepy as hell, and i’m actually really glad that herbert didn’t wind up being cast. i’d never be able to sleep again. ugh… so creepy. so excited.

found a goodwill drop-off site very close to my current place of residence, so that will make packing and moving and generally clearing my life of meaningless junk much easier.

speaking of, i really wanted to get some organizing and junk-clearing underway tonight, with potential background noise ranging around the princess bride (since that’s usually the movie i start on when i clean things). however, i just looked at the clock and realised that it’s nearly one am… and i’ve to be up for river cleanup at 8a. after that it’s study, clean, study, pack, study, study, study. ooh.. laundry, too. shite.

okay. (in my tired state of not having my fingers on the right keys, that was actually “play.” instead of “okay.” i don’t know why i changed it.) sleep well, night owls.

everybody wants to rule the world

classes are technically over. finally. this last week has been hell on a stick, in a handbasket, and on sale. i still have a few finals and a video project to shoot, but i’m not really concerned with those. they’re fairly spread out, and honestly, not that intimidating.

today was productive. caitlin met me at work, and when i got off we went to the bank, followed by borders, claire’s, h&m, and cvs. we then grabbed some lunch at the caffé le dining hall, followed by another quick stop at the bank to double-check something. it seemed that we got a lot done, and time was passing slowly, and the day was beautiful, and it was great.

i bought chunking express and clerks (tenth anniversary edition!), along with a happy bunny watch that’s pink and blue and says “i hate everything.” shit. now i have to remember how to tell time again.

the soundtrack to my day has been fantastic. thank you itunes, for understanding.

eff the internet… it’s time to watch clerks before the shoot tonight.

gobbeldy-gook

it’s 2330 on tuesday, april 25.
i have a ten page paper due at 1700.
i basically began the text research for this paper this afternoon at 1515.
i just finished a small stretch session to force some blood-flow to my brain.
i have a my name, the course code, the date, and a thesis on my paper.
honestly, it’s further than i thought i would be before midnight.

i have to work at 0715.
i have my science final at 1600.
i kind of want to cry.

i wish i went to nyu.
i hear they have a killer library.

"there’s only one return, and it’s not of the king, it’s of the jedi."

the only thing keeping me motivated is the new clerks II trailer. because, if i kill myself now, i won’t be around for the film’s release in august. i’ve also heard rumors that clerks II will be released the same weekend as snakes on a (motherfucking) plane.

do it for dante and randall… and sam jackson’s worst career move.

went to the library today. stopped for some dinner on the way back. i got to the sushi bar and placed my order, and when i sat down to wait “walkin’ on sunshine” came on the radio.

made me laugh. and then it made me miss you. hope you’re well.

back to my miso. followed by premature meltage into that amorphous puddle everyone’s always talkin’ about.

THE ALL-NEW 2006
GAY AGENDA

proudly brought to you by angry_biscuit

goodbye, blue sky…

i think my dinner was trying to tell me something…

i just wish the universe would stop speaking in tongues. (and for those that honestly don’t get it… that’s a piece of bread shaped like the lower penninsula of michigan. now stop reading and go buy a fucking map.)

more fun with myspace boys:

i know it’s been a while since my last installment of “wtf myspace messages.” actually, i don’t think i’ve done one since i’ve abandoned xanga. the reason for the hiatus has been that i’ve gotten significantly less messages since i’ve added the blurb about living a head-from-ass lifestyle to my profile. these two gems, however, seem to have slipped through the cracks; and on the same day, no less!

from “lex star”:
WOW CHILLIN
kim’s reply:
i think i could stare at those two words for the rest of my life and still have no fucking clue what you’re saying.

from “den”:
Hi:) I like your profile!!!
Have u heard about “Do you like”? It is very funny site.The thing is, they show you a pic of a boys and ask if u like them. You answer Yes or No. If you do they send them your pic and ask the same. If you both like eachother you can get in-touch and meet up.
Do you like me???
if yes you will be my future sympathy!
kim’s reply:
“sympathy”? as in, i get to feel sorry for you because you put your profile on websites with names such as “do you like me”?

if that’s what you meant, then you’re right. i am sympathetic. or maybe i’m just sad. it’s hard to tell anymore; the world can be such a disappointing place.

watched the wall with caitlin tonight because there’s no better way to combat depression than with a completely disjointed and all-too-political acid flick from the early eighties.

i enjoyed it. i think i’m still a bit depressed, but i enjoyed it.

this next week is, to put it nicely, going to suck. hard. i have much more work to do than i thought i did, and it’s all pretty much due at the exact same time (roughly 5pm on wednesday). i, however, am not setting an alarm tomorrow for what may be the first time in five months. i’m hoping that it will help restore some giveafuck because as it stands now, i’m running on fumes.

head—>wall—>bang—>repeat

i’ll see you on the other side. well, that is, of course, if the book of bunny suicides doesn’t inspire me before then. (i give simply the best belated birthday gifts.)

clearly, the most productive way to spend an afternoon in the heat of finals season was to take a nap and watch say anything…

“when you hear that smoking sign go ding, that’s when you’ll know that everything is going to be fine.”

sigh. where is my lloyd dobbler?

oh, what a cop-out!

To whom it may concern:

I recently purchased a Kit-Kat Extra Crispy candy bar from a vending machine in the laundry room at my school. The label of this candy bar claims that the Extra Crispy candy bar has “twice the crisp” of a normal Kit-Kat candy bar.

While I do not dispute that the Extra Crispy version of the Kit-Kat is crispier than a normal Kit-Kat, I cannot help but wonder what methods were used in not only determining the crispiness-factor of each, but comparing them to make such a bold claim. It would seem to me that a statement such as that undoubtedly required some research.

Any information you can offer me on this subject would be greatly appreciated. Thank you for your time.

Sincerly,
Kimberly Diesel

———————–

Thank you for contacting The Hershey Company.

I’m sorry, unfortunately we do not have the information you requested available.

Your interest in our company is appreciated.

Sharon Wilson
Consumer Representative

you can choose the rain, but i choose the sun

i am a big emotional ocean whose tides turn at the mercy of the moon.

i am über-stressed and over-worked and under-sexed and i feel like i am behind in my work–even if i know i am not–and i am kind of freaking out.

i have a song in my heart and a skip in my step.

i need a carhood and a pack of cigarettes and the beach. the night is beautiful, the sky is clear, the moon is full, and everytime i smell the air, i cannot help but hum.

it is great how relaxing it can be to lean against a wall on a night like tonight and smoke a clove and hum a tune with no melody to no one but yourself.

it will all be okay, i think. i will make it out of this, and i will be a better person for it.

i think it will all be okay.

if you wanna get down, down on the ground, cocaine

i don’t understand why boston never seems to get the memo. well, maybe it does, but it still has a problem with its tps reports. i just don’t see why this town has to be so goddamned beautiful and romantic on the days i just want to curl up and be depressed. you know what, boston… that’s just rude.

i was on my way back from work this afternoon, not fifteen minutes ago actually, when i heard the sounds of the accordian player on the bridge. not to be confused with the fiddler on the roof; those are two completely different people.

i weasled a dollar out of my wallet and palmed it, ready to drop it in his case with a “thank you” as i passed. i love that accordian player. he reminds me of my grandfather. if my grampa were still alive, and there were a park in fremont where he could play his accordian, i like to think that’s exactly how he’d be spending sunny afternoons.

i walked and smoked and tried to be inconspicuous; i was, afterall, still wearing my stylin’ ball cap from nhccs, but i was also wearing mirrored sunglasses and all black, so i tried to play it off like i was more of a coffeeninja than a coffeeslut. i was also still trying to ignore the beautiful day and the ducks and the sun and the accordian and be depressed. i love the mood these people can put me in. i know it’s just coffee, and you know it’s just coffee, but that’s what pisses me off… that these people can be so goddamned nasty over a fucking cup of coffee. it really must suck to not know what it’s like to work a day of actual service in your entire life; to spend it all in a suit behind a desk at a job that you got by going to college with daddy’s money.

but i digress.

suddenly came the voice from behind me. “excuse me, miss?”

i turned my head, half-expecting to see the alpha male of some touring family, map in hand, wondering where they could get a decent lunch. what i saw was some twenty-ish white kid with sweat beading down his face and a cell phone in his hand which kept ringing with one of those really obnoxious spoken-word-yelling-at-you ringtones.

“yeah?” i replied, curious as to what his next move would be. i clasped my purse a little closer to my body, just in case.

“do you know where i can find some marijuana?”

i missed a beat. did he really just say that? “uh, no.”

“well, why not?!”

“because i don’t smoke marijuana.”

“BULLSHIT! you’ve got a bong, a pipe, AND a police officer waiting to guard you.”

and with that, he picked up his pace, sweat some more, and let his phone keep ringing. i shrugged, took a hit of the clove i was choking on, smiled at the accordian player and gave him his well earned dollar with a nod and a “thank you.”

i noticed strung-out-white-boy go straight, so i veered to the right and headed home. i’m not as depressed as i was when i left work, but i must say, i’m a little confused.

i could make a lot of money someday if i were able to make this shit up.