Saturday 7:32am
A thoughtless hodgepodge.

Settle in kids. Grab some rations and maybe a canteen. I get that long post feeling coming on. This is what happens when I go a few days without my dose of thought expression.

I think my loathing for people is reaching gargantuan preportions. Astronomical how everyday I can find one more thing I am revolted to discover. Do any of you know who echo and the bunnymen are? Please, someone say yes and I will act like I like you. In my eternal sleeplessness I was cruising the personal ads of web chicks. It is amusing: I will soon post some of the profiles I put on these pages. One led into another endlessly. Are there really this many women that are "Fun and outgoing and adveturous with grate since of humor and I love the uotdoors. The theng I liek most is to danc!!!!!!!!" have all women been "Hurt in luv and made to crie so many many tymes that I wont let anyone close no anymore." And do all women have pets? "My dog Roger, my cat Misty, my Aligator Peliroha are the mst impartant thengs in my lif!!!!!!!" Do they have a factory that makes neurological stimulators that make the female mind think they want a "swet, hand some guy with a grate since of humor like me that is as much fun as I am and nos how to treet a ledy!!!! that luvs me for who I am and not jsut (that is my error) wat I look like. I want respect and luv." Oh but do remember that "I wont let anyone close no anymore." Plus you have to play second fiddle behind dogs, cats, alligators, chickens, cows, rabbits, Gila Monsters, Kimoto Dragons, Chia-Pets, sea monkey, those psychotic Beta Fish, sheep, pictures of Reagan, ex-boyfriends, more cats, and one of those genetically engineered rats with a human ear instead of a body. Now believe me, this isn't what any woman wants. Guys like that are fucking their fist for long long periods of time. What the damn sites should say is "I wnat a guy that is coky and bearly speeks ot me. He shood just come to my house to jump into bed with me with no warning or call or anythig stuff liek that!!!!! I want him to fuck around on me and stick his peenus in my freinds!!!!!" because those guys are always with woman, while the nice guys I meet are buying tons of vasaline and dressing their body pillows up in lingerie or those schoolboy uniforms with the little half-pants. I said they were nice guys, I didn't say they were normal at fucking all.

What I want to see is how these women become the later mature and sophiticated females that I have heard of women becoming (shortly after either building a cocoon or being replaced by a vampiric body snatcher). How come the Nike website for women doesn't read: "Hey giirlys watz ^? I got deez nice shoos that look soooooooooooo cute and stuff you know what i mena? You can bike and hike with your favorit dog (or Gila Monster) or just go out dnacin in thees shoos!!!!". All these girls are 18+ too, with pictures, and I am talking about pages of them, they can't all be fake now can they? I want to know how these women who claim to be college students survive.

"My theesis on Biolagical Warfar!!!!! There are many terrorist gruops aperating int he US today that are not sweet or hand some and they hit ladys. One of teh most dangerus items these guys have are bioliogical weapons. Such weapons can kill milions or evne hundreds of Americens by maeking them sick. And when I am out hiking with Rocks, I don't want to get Anthrax becuz it is hard to be outgoing and fun and enjoy life wehn youve got Antrhax. So we must do something about biological weapons, like stop fucking selling them to other goddamn countries before we all die. Biological weapons are the biggest threat of the future and make me not trust anyone and not want to let them close no anymore!!!!!".

*Thinks about just giving up on humanity and using "The Burnz Doomsday Machine!!!!!". I wouldn't worry too much, because it is shitty as doomsday machines go. It is a megaphone attached to a '77 Chevy Nova that I drive up and down the street in putting out negative energy which affects those that hear it, making them act worse, dropping their karma until it is sufficiently low for death to be the justice exacted from them. I also have a shrill cackle looped on a tape that I will play when the armaggeddon is complete.

A profile on the people I work with. Entertainment value: Low.
Jess - The underboss. Everyone questions his sexuality, he isn't flaming, but he is a bit quiet and gentle. He constantly talks about his goddamn wife, and will threaten you with "I will have my wife beat you up." The sexual adventurist, if someone says "Now these could be fun" you can bet your ass it is Jess.

Karine - The flirt. One mouth, two languages, no waiting. Karine can and will talk endlessly to anyone about anything. I am the only person that can shut her up with my monosyllabic answers and depressed manner. She adores me anyway and if I go to lunch with anyone it is always Karine.

Carlos - The tweeker. A large guy who can score speed in no time flat. A usually amusing guy with the exact schedule as me. He sure does like to throw shit and is always telling me to calm down because he isn't adjusted to my intense delivery. It isn't unusual for him to be very strange toward the end of every other day due to his alleged total lack of sleep and drug consumption.

Sandy - The overboss. She used to be a cop. She is one of those middle-aged women that are convinced of their own "badness" and try to talk a lot of shit. When it hits the fan she is a bitchy little wench and nothing more severe than that.

Jose and Justin - The wetbacks. One is 6'6" the other doesn't break 5 feet. It is like Jose and Mini-Jose. I work with them one day and could certainly do without it. They think they is "OG"s but I got more gangster in me, and I got damn little.

Justin - The other Burnz. Grim, cynical, malcontent. A dry and surprisingly intellectual person that I was thrilled to meet. Mirrors me in many many ways. No one gets things done faster than me and Justin except Ricky, and we can do it without talking at all, sympatico.

Ricky - The worker. Silent, 22 and looks 42. A skrawny guy that can stack shit better and faster than any two people in the whole goddamn building. Speaks in a polite little voice and is mousy and nervous. Ricky is the only guy in there that I would date if I were a woman, and he is probably still a virgin. Nice work women, you got taste for shit. Confidence does not = appeal, will you ever learn? How about you show a little backbone and approach someone. Fuck you all.

Paul - The Ox. You know the Blue ox that Paul Bunyan had? I work with it now. It is southern and never shuts the fuck up. It talks endlessly about nothing. No one can stand listening to the giant SOB for any period of time. We can thankfully tune him out. What is it about guys named Paul and being massive?

Martin and Kara - The non-smokers. Half the crew doesn't smoke, but they sit in the smokers lounge anyway, because we are just better people, more fun. I think I hate these two. Martin is nearly blind and nearly deaf. He can barely do the job and says nothing worthwhile. Kara is bored and low class. She done has trailor park scrawled on her tom-boy ass. She would be pretty if not for her clothes, job, language, manner, and whole attitude. And she don't like me cuz I ain't nice to her.

Wednesday 4:21am
A numb kind of confusion.

Tell you what, since this is my site, I am going to put what I damn well please on it. However, many of you may have already heard this, so if it starts to sound familiar kill it. One thing before I start: The Sermons page is big and sloppy. How should I index it? Break it down into more links? Enumerate it? I don't want you kiddies to have to muddle through giant amounts of text. Any suggestions are welcome (although I know none of you will try to help.) Now onto what I want to talk about. I wanted to put the pen down again today, swear off writing all together. There are sporadic times when I belive I can actually make something, I know now that these are completely the product of mood. Excuse my self-doubt, but I really can't see anything coming from me that is worth the time and trouble. I want to just never bother again. Finally be able to deny the written word as my talisman, forsake it for something more productive, but I can't seem to ever do it permanently. It isn't even making me happy to do it, just something I do, an action I perform almost compulsively, I don't know why. I don't ever want to think about it again. Don't want to worry about where to take a story, or the daily creative dry-heaves. It is wearing on me a little bit.

2nd Item: Well, I am self-sufficient. I am now the only person Matt relies on. I have achieved a state of completely recieving all entertainment, emotional fulfillment, and legal tender from myself. I am now autonomous. Ultimately this is all I ever wanted out of life. I mean, I had those pie in the sky dreams, but for my cynical self I have all I really expected to accomplish. I need a dealer, but upon landing that there is no further upward drive in me. So the questions that come up, are "So you are just going to die?" I don't know that yet, but planning says that isn't interesting so no. Expectation says that is realistic, so yes. Assuming I will not just sit here with my nice internet connection and mark time until my mortality runs out then "What next?" I thought about this one all night. Where to go from here? College? To do what? To accomplish what? I like what I do, I don't care if the money is shitty. Monetary influx is not how I would ever measure success. More money wouldn't make me happy. If I wanted just something to do, something to fill time, then I can work on a car, build a lava lamp, retrain myself to write with my left hand. They are cheaper than school. "So what would make you happy?" Let's just run the gauntlet on this one.

- Relationship - Certainly would make me happier than I am now for sure. But so unlikely that I would start buying lottery tickets first. Yes (Randal) sex is nice, but really leaves me pretty cold. So I mean some degree of couplehood. Lets say, on the off chance, I meet someone (1 in a hundred) that I am attracted to (1 in a thousand) that digs me (1 in insert large number here) and then we manage to actually hook up (there isn't even a 1 for this.) Consider these factors: I don't talk to anyone. I don't meet anyone to talk to. It isn't like I am going to roll up to some leggy thing while dressed like shit at work and try to throw my groove down. Even the few times I have seen the fairer sex socially, I don't talk to them. I don't know what to say. I can't think of anything, mind freezes up and I am overcome by my esteem induced desire to combust. I then drink until I throw up and those are the least of my concerns. I am a blue collar animal with a shallow disposition, a gargantuan ego, no money, no ambition, and a track record with relationships that reads like a legal petition for castration or solitary confinement. I can't offer the opposite sex anything. And no folks, I am not about to change all that just so I am not alone. I would rather be myself and alone than some imagined person that can attract the women-folk. So relationship might help, but getting it would be pointless, plus there would be a whole new bundle of "What now"s that came with that.

- Other socialization - People to get drunk with. I have always had very few friends that I consider close to me. I haven't met anyone I would choose to see socially up here, and due to my hermetic nature, I doubt I will meet any.

- Spirituality - Right, I am going to be born again now. I have thought about it at much worse times than this and clung to my godlessness to sustain me. My spirituality is very full, it just happens to be filled with reliance on self and skeptical hesitancy to accept neo-mythology. I define my parameters, it is my responsibility to achieve what I want and repair what is wrong. I don't have cosmic forces to do it, it is all me. You all see it the same way, but have several steps to get there. This isn't a religious discussion however, so I will just leave it at saying I am all the God I need. That is very empowering. It is also fraught with guilt.

- Career - As I said, I do what makes me happy. It really is all the same. It is all work, it is all accomplishing what I do it for, a paycheck. As long as my check is enough to provide that which I need I am not going to look to upgrade to something that is a higher echelon of the same damn pyramid.

- Personal Growth - I have this. I read scads on topics that interest me, and often write long dissertations about them and how they pertain to my life. I can teach me whatever I desire to know at a pace that befits me.

Maybe it is just time to die. It is all the same. Pro and con that balance out. So it comes to personal preference, and I don't really care. I would like a social circle, but attaining that....impossible really when outfitted with my station and mind. So there is all my slightly melancholy glory in full futile view. All I want is to get well and smoke a couple of cigarettes. Maybe have my roomates gone some Saturday and rent a movie.
Tonight's Quote: "You ever just ramble hoping you will find the perfect thing to say? Hell, that is all I do. My theory is the more I dribble along the better the epiphany will be when I finally reach it."

Monday 11:13pm
An update that doesn't deserve anything catchy.

Thanks to one of my lovely little online helpers, I realized that those of you who still use the 800x640 resolution couldn't scroll to see the entire navigation bar. I had to sacrifice some aesthetic value (all that this site had left in fact) so those of you with inferior display settings would be appeased. Now you can reach the Links, E-mail, and Forum icons on the right hand side. Just scroll down. Thanks to Byrd for pointing this out.

Monday 3:12am
An irrespresable love of self.

Look to the right. You see the goat head thing? That is the sermons section. That is new, if you care, you can click on it and be transported to a magical kingdom. If you don't care, you can click it and go straight to hell asshole. It is amusing stuff, but some of you have seen parts of it, this is one of those times when it pays off not to know me well. Actually that always pays off doesn't it? I'll tell you, that empty forum makes me feel like a bad webmaster. *Thinks of ways to get hits....then thinks of ways to get people to come to his website.*

Sunday 3:36am
A hopeless kind of person.

Went out and got really really drunk last night. Played pool and made friends with my neighbors, they all talk a helluva lot. I did bond with my roomate, so that was good I suppose, and he is landing a load of KB for us, which makes me kinda happy. But when I got up today, I was massively hungover. I really wanted to do something else with my life than this. I don't really want to turn my life into a string of chemical encounters. Especially not booze and grass, that makes you damn stupid feeling. If I am going to take a drug, I like it to be an enhancing thing, a better feeling, not just mindlessness. Too much of a numbing feeling, too animalistic, just want to get laid and maybe break something. I do not find that fun. I did, I don't anymore. So I started wondering what I should do, what would be something "normal" to desire. The only thing that I came up with was material. Buy stuff, own good things. I did miss being coupled today. Someone to rub my head and say "poor Matt." But I would end up shredding another relationship, so I know that isn't something to strive for. It has just been a while since I have seen someone I really liked, and would choose to associate with. These new folks are just default players that are slightly better than being alone. Things are going well though. And maybe I should use objects to supplant any real sort of life fulfillment...Any thoughts on what should be my next big step?

This was just hungover ramblings, sorry my articulation was shady if there at all.

Friday 4:50am
An excersize in Rag nostalgia.

Headlines: Dirt Devil releases new lightweight, adjustable, upright girlfriend with 6 hose attachments.