TWIST

in need of a life

2004-12-09T13:21:00.000-05:00

this keeps going on and on
and on and on and on and on
you're too drunk to hold on
smashing your head against me

Olive Juice: Vol. 1

2004-11-22T00:08:00.000-05:00

jordanvsbird1on1: aaron i'm so fucked

Auto response from Oyster the frog: here's this long haired weird dude spouting nonsesical mayham to those under him. they're lauging. what the fuck am i doing??? Dry Ramin speaks: "Yo this kid can do the moonwalk!" fuuuuuck. i can, but not on concrete you fool! shut up Ramin! ah fuck it. i did it. it was horrible, but the people all jumped and hooted and yelped. my audience loved it. Ramin started doing the robot. "oh man that's horrible," someone said, "what is that the drunken robot?" too much oil, i said as i turned and walked back into the house. either these people were the dumbest bunch of assholes, or all piss drunk... but when i said "too much oil," they all lost it. hardy freakin' har har! laughing like goofballs.

brockport was fun.

jordanvsbird1on1 returned at 5:55:13 PM.
jordanvsbird1on1: that sounds ho larious. haha. hahaha. i could picture these people. or no.. i couldnt, but i can imagine -and the birds -and oh i have two huge tests tomorrow and then TUESDAY -bloody tuesday. dead on the beach wiped out tuesday. hung and strung out ripped open black bacteria bitchin bladder bustin bum biting tuesday. i have the biggest report tuesday. oh yeah -and its due. theres no way out. i feel like tupac in timesquare. why does half of me try? i need you to do me a big thing -i need you to really help me here man... this is the only way i'll buy you beer/liquor. find some info on your choice of the geography, culture, government, economy, military, or international dsiputes -i'll take you and your sister to polar express 3d -i'll buy her a pony -anything. just help me out. its a community thing. i'll check my e mails. i'll take ye ice fishing. i'll... shit i gotta go
jordanvsbird1on1: heh bacteria
jordanvsbird1on1: :?:?END OF TRANSMISSION:!:!
jordanvsbird1on1 is away at 6:04:42 PM.
jordanvsbird1on1 returned at 7:23:30 PM.
jordanvsbird1on1: GO BILLS

jordanvsbird1on1 is away at 7:23:43 PM.
jordanvsbird1on1: hah

jordanvsbird1on1 returned at 9:37:40 PM.
jordanvsbird1on1: what did i say a few hours ago? i was just plain drunk and high. oh man, a little work later and i'm ok. i dont even remember what the fuck i said to you... jordanvsbird1on1: GO BILLS ...haha i just pasted that. anthony's profile maybe?
jordanvsbird1on1: i dont know
jordanvsbird1on1 is away at 9:44:32 PM.
jordanvsbird1on1 returned at 9:53:19 PM.
jordanvsbird1on1: read my amazing profile

[sadly i don't have what was written in his profile]

cocks are purple and you've lost your gull

2004-09-28T00:02:00.000-04:00

montage of scenes.

damsel in distress

-train tracks/girl

-voice overs

five essentials of cowboys

standoffs/whores from the bars/indians/sheriffs/spittons/spurs/chaps/catus/

nemesis/cowboy hat/cows/lasso rope/bandana/

holster/mustache/poker/whiskey/outhouses/halfmoons

/coytes

fire two sticks/ smokes/ guitars/harmonica/

cameo-mr.walker/taco joe

one cowboy in a clip at a time main theme

two cowboys in firescene/ one with back to us

ferry/gold/banjo/sunset/ithica gorge park/letchworth

jack/jim/pooker/opium den scene(deleted)/woodchopping

roosters

john wayne quote

scenes

-shooting milk bottles/bottles (sandwas)

woodspot/western looking spot

-cooking over flame/beans/cowboy rustling up grub

-girl on tracks

-walking through swinging doors(silverlake)

-girl in lingere(blacks/garters)[sara ross]

-molasses hill/cow bodys

-running through stream

-repair fence

-indian running at cowboy/turn/cowboy stabs himself with knife

-cowboys meet at abandoned building

-deleted scene -aaron and justin:
holding rifles to eachothers heads yelling

-shots at dawn

locations

-ithaca gorges-run scene

-sandwash-shooting range

-silverlake-swing doors

-letchworth

-kistners

-le roy abandonded building-meeting area

-medina

-mumford

-woods- jackson and beleveder

-toy train minature

-american stone mix

-kistner concert

-molasses hill bridge

-jon mager house

cowboy identies

random thoughts

-cowboys all start on stream run down and vere off at differnt paths/ all run at different times

-all go to adventures

-all show up at abondanded building from different directions and convene in center with whores

-all own scene with the girls

written by:

SPORTS

-he was 63 years old-

2004-09-27T03:49:00.000-04:00

he was 63 years old.
"all you need to worry about," he said pointing upward with his eyebrows, "is The Flag."
my eyes themselves lowerd a bit...
he continued, "all you have to do is defend That Flag."
i looked away for a moment. i had to. sipping more of this god awful beer he'd bought for me helped lighten the mood. it was bud light; simple, 'normal,' mindless... american.
i dropped the beer from my throat into my stomach, and looked at him.
deep into the black of his eyes.
i grabbed a hold of the back of his mind. that place where you'd only dare attempt to see when coming face to face with either an enemy or a friend.
that place, tucked behind the muscles, cells, and electronic impluses that literaly make up your eyes and brain.
without knowing it he spoke again. "would you defened The Flag to your death?" he asked.
i saw into him and held him there.
"No," was all i said.

Florida. Stupid fucking Florida.

2004-07-27T20:38:00.001-04:00

DAY ONE of the 2004 Joy Family Vacation. I was up at night last night.
Our flight left at 5:30am. Up. Up. Up. In the sky, me scared shitless only because I was. Much like the girl in the terminal whom I will never forget. Balled up, scared shitless. Rocking back & forth, head buried inbetween her knees. She was powerful - full of gravity. My mind, at 9am singled her out. Our eyes skipped off one another a few times. I hope she felt what was on my face - the look, the uneasy quiet fear. Somehow our gravity melded together and she ended up next to me on the plane. I kept my head pressed against the side of the cabin, hoping for sleep. She sat with her knees up, her feet on the edge of the seat. As the plane began its noise, spreading and fanning the fear, the Girl hid. Covering herself with the complementary blanket found in the over-head compartment, she didn't move until we touched down in Florida.

Drinking beer at 11:34 in the morning is always a good idea.
I've been on the beach since 9. Sweating, squinting, reading. I walked aimlessly up and down listening to Beck's opus off of Eternal Sunshine. All that ran through my head was, "gee where should this song go on the Kate mix?"
I told myself that I would never again fall hard for a girl. That was truth, a fact and something that was actually happening until I met Kate.
It's only been about a week since rearanging the pieces so the water would flow in this direction, but already I'm turning into clay mud just thinking about her.
There is no burn, no longing - no earth stopping longing - but it's only been a week, it's only been a few kisses...
We stood in what I'm assuming was her father's "office", holding each other.
Holding each other?!!?!
It was as if we were old, harden'd Ex's finally returning to normality. Returning to that infinatly small space that exists inbetween two humans pressed so tightly against one another that stars could form. Smashed together, squeezing. I pressed my head against her neck.
My God she smells like beauty.
I can feel the alcohol she spilled soaking through my shirt and into my skin. In the darkness, the sound of us is deafining.
Luke, I can hear him shuffeling through the house, his bare feet skidding on the hardwood floor. Even though I'm transfixed on her face, I can sense Luke and Brittany standing behind us, by the staircase. I don't care. How could I? With Kate pressed against me, it's hard to think about anything else. Including the continuation of this paragraph.
I've been thrown back into the hear-and-now.
My Brother and Mother have returned from the beach. Michael is complaining about my music (Stevie Wonder), wanting to watch TV. Mom's making sand-whiches. I'm eating one and drinking a fresh beer. Michael has moved into the bedroom where a door can seperate us. Dad's on his way back here for the sand-whiches and Mom's left.
As quickly as this room filled, it's empty again. When I drink around my parents, I get more drunk than I would with said company above.
When I was at Kate's, I finished a 750 of Captin' (with major help from Kate) and only after I got high, did the rest of the evenings consumption smash me in the forehead. It might have had something to do with the numbers the grandfather clock was pointing at (3, 5).
I asked her to stick around for a while. She answerd by tightening her grip around me.
Blur-all blurr until we are on the couch. Her head nuzzled under my chin.
She passed out like a rock, quickly cutting off blood flow to my arm. My left arm. I pressed my nose against the top of her head. Pouting my lips I kissed her hair. She smells like shampoo.
Well, at least her hair does, which is a good thing. Shows me she likes to be clean--what the hell am I writing about?
Back to the hear-and-now. My Dad has made it back here for his sand-which. He is enjoying it next to me. We're going to converse and discuss the eventless day a head of us.

It's Sunday. My hair's wet and my shoulders are ruined. The sun has tap danced the Charleston across both of them, with golf shoes.
I haven't written in here since thursday and right now I'm forcing it. My Dad is in the room with me. "Aaron! Do you want a piece of provolone cheese?" my Mother just asked. My answer would have to be, no. I have yet to shower. I think my hair is turning white.
I went to a flea market yesterday. Blah-zow! the event of the vacation. When I get back to Blahtavia, the populous (as I now call them) will ask, "So, what'd you do while you were down there?" Answer: Flea Market. Other than that, I looked at the ocean a lot, floated in a pool quite a bit, and ate food.
This entry is turning to shit. Way way way too many people in and out. I try to ignore them, but my vision is too wide. I'm going to freak out. This is hopeless. (Train of thought: why is Fishman such an amazing drummer? Answer: because Fishman is such an amazing drummer.)
Questions seem to be the theme of this entry. Questions & rolling frustration.
I don't like people around when I write, it hold me too far outside their realm. Me, this pen. This paper. My mind transforming into a phsical object - that being these words up this. It's too much.
...Yes! Victory! They are gone.
Look at that, they cleaned the freakin' room while they were here. More quotes: "It's 3." Yes, thank you Dad for that bit of information. I'm thinking about eating some food. We're going to eat at 4:30. My body is lame right now. Sun, heat, water, and only Cherrio's will do that. I need to shower, but dammit I'm too tired.

My headphones are on. The Yankees are on. Phish is in my head, thanks not to the Yankees, but rather to my headphones. It's still Sunday. This vacation is getting longer as it gets shorter. I still have 3 days in this state. Day three will be spent traveling.
I want to write about Kate, but I don't want to over do it. I think about her, but they are slow thoughts. Ones that come and go, but never really leave. It's a calm aloe-like idea, the thoughts of her. Who is she? We've only just met. Things have (if at all) just begun. Thursday (could have been Wednesday) on the phone she pressed out words about falling easily for people. "I'm scared," she said. Not wanting to fall into that todash darkness where your thoughts become overpowerd-BLAHBLAHBLAH.
Yanks are losing 7-2 against Boston. My brother turns into Satan while watching these two teams battle.
Those sentences I just crapped out, fucking sucked. "I want to write about Kate, but I don't want to over do it," and I did. So forced. So fake. "Todash darkness" was the moment I knew it was time to put down the pen for the night.

I had my first dream about her last night.
I'm standing in the grass of some annonomus subconcisous home. There is a party floating around me and as usual I'm the last to arrive -and the one to arrive alone. I know Kate's somewhree around here and I begin looking for her. When I find her, she's on edge, nervous & her eyes are bouncing around looking never right at me. There's a guy there with her - I can feel him stairing at me. She keeps telling me that she wants to get out of there but before she can leave she has to go talk to this other guy.
It's not a good dream. Laiden with paranoia.
Kate is new in my life. A human whom I've just begun to understand. The manafestatoin of her past which is unknown to me is this kid in the blue jacket. Kate walks over to him and whispers something to him. He looks over her shoulder at me whith his head down peering through his bangs.
My God, it's me, only I'm taller and skinnier.
As dreams happen, the shift from one image/moment to the next is unnoticable and impossible to describe.
I'm looking down now at Kate. She's in my arms, making a horrible face. Her mouth is sucked in on itself and has turned into a crack running lengthwise across her face. "Aaron," she says, "everyone is leaving and going to Amanda's house to smoke pot. Ireally want to smoke pot but I really want to go with you."
"Can you stop that with your mouth," I ask. Apparently she can't. Her eyes have begun to do the same thing. Her face now is only a nose bookended on top and bottom by what looks like a deep groove, almost like an ass crack, from one side of her head to the other. I violently push open the groove where her eyes should be. "Look at me please," I said. As soon as I take my fingers awy, the groove/divit returns.
"I hope, I really hope they don't actually smoke," she says, "because I want to go with you."
Alcohol. Suddenly we need alcohol.
I leave her at her house and I am on main street, Batavia. All the streetlights are off. Half the road is under construction. As I get infront of 3D liquor, all the cars a head of me have their lights off. It's pitch black. I flash them 4 times. The car on the right is the first to turn them on. Soon, almost all the cars are glowing with light, illuminating the road. As I turn down center street I can sense/see Jackson St. it's coverd thick in darkness. Bad darkness. Todash darnkness. Something is wrong. Is the power out? Why did I leave Kate? It's so dark over here. Something, some huge devistating presance is waiting for me at home. Why did I leave kate? Turning onto Ellicott, I know that leaving Kate was a bad idea. "I had to get alcohol at my house, that's why I left you!" But why? Wasn't there booze at her house? What the fuck am I doing out here?! I can't that this shit -
my shoulders are on fire. My sunburn. I'm back in Florida, crawling out of this dream, rolling back and forth on the bed. Holy shit, my shoulders are burning alive. I either need to fall back asleep (near impossible) or just get the hell out of bed.
It's Monday now. Two more days to go.

Tomorrow I fly. We fly. 1pm flight time. Lay-over in Atlanta and then on to Rochester. I'm on the beach today at 9:30 attempting to finish my book. The longer I'm out here, the greater the puddle of sweat is that's forming on my stomache. It couldn't be any later than 10 and enough is enough. I gotta get inside.
The walk down the million-dollar walkway is growing. The weight of my backpack is growing. Why the hell did I bring all these CD's in the first place? 96 Phish CD's plus 96 random. You have got to be kidding me Aaron. Actully, now that I think about it, it might only be 72. Reguardless it's a lot, and I don't know if I'll make it inside because of it.
Out from under the palms, across the road and onto the blacktop parking lot. Door No. 2 -closer. Closer. Get under the shade, fast. Past door No. 4. My ears begin to ring. I'm so weak that at door 3 I have to switch hands and hold my backpack with my left. The backpack's coverd in sand, otherwise I would have had it on my back. Attempting to unlock the door is near impossible.
THE A/C!!! Praise the Man Jesus it's cold air!
I am NOT built for this state.
Collapsing in the first chair I get to, I begin heaving in huge gulps of air. Maybe I'm dying. Maybe I'm deydrated. Maybe I should sleep. Yes. Sleep would be amazing -and ya know what? That's all I did today. Not bake in the sun, like I wanted to -but sleep. It was lousy dreamless sleep too.
Noon, two, five. Okay! Dinner at six. Off to Stevie Tomatoes. Home of the best wings, best pizza in Naples and full of the lousiest idiots I've ever come across. As you could expect, the pizza was as good as the people.
Florida. Full of plastic. Cheap fake plastic.
So here I am, sitting upon a bar stool, in Naples, eating "hot" wings and waxing poetic Jethro Tull with my father and brother. Meanwhile my mother and her sister, my aunt, are drunk on vodkatonics and who knows what Frank is. Michelle, our waitress is getting a full-on of what the Semmens are capabul of: quiet mind control. Michelle has a lot of tables, and the last thing she needs is a couple of we-think-we-know-it-all flower childern telling her where and what to do next in her life. I have ears like a hawk has eyes. If the wind blows in the right direction, if the holes inbetween the sounds of the resturant arrive at the right time, I can pick up on bits of their conversation. They're feeding her the "just be happy" with your life bullshit. I'm sorry Michelle, I didn't get to pick my family. Please ignore them... and what's with Frank pointing at me? Why is Frank pointing at me? Michelle comes to my side of the table. I have dirty plates and since I'm not allowed back in the kitchen - "He's a writer," Frank begins. Oh no, fuck you man. Michelle smiles. "He could write you a wonderful love poems." Jesus fucking shit! Michelle can only smile. I can do anything but. "Oh! You're embarassing him," the Sisters yelp. At least by this time Michelle's left.

If you wanted to split hairs, I could just write her a journal entry.

fun with robots.01

2004-04-25T02:22:00.000-04:00

theMANpantsdance: hey sexy.
RingMessenger: Hello again, theMANpantsdance. Where would you like this journey to take you?
theMANpantsdance: into my pants.
RingMessenger: I reckon I will have to think about that for awhile.

white light zings by

2004-04-20T01:47:00.000-04:00

living in between buffalo and rochester is somewhat like sleeping wrapped in a $5000 comforter you got from your mother who got it from her mother's brother's wife for nothing.

life is good.

living in an apartment that costs you nothing, teaches you nothing. living with an amazingly beautiful virgin dosen't help the situation either, especially after that goes.

The nd on Tuesday

2004-03-10T03:02:00.000-05:00

dj apple j a x: "oh, yeah johnny depp is going to do a movie baised on a ride at disney world and then be nominated for an oscar because of it."
"yeah sure, and martha stewart will be a convicted felon with a prison record."
AngryInch82: the world is ending a week from tuesday
dj apple j a x: i figured.

i was 14.

2004-02-29T00:44:00.000-05:00

i was 14. much like everything else at one moment or another. at some point during those moments my cousin or the might-as-well-be-my-older-brother Loren asked me if i had heard of the musical act who believed they were aliens from elsewhere. i hadn't. those same two bastards thinking they were aliens just got themselves a grammy for album of the year. in honor of stuff happening here's a website to the new movie Loren's producing and editing: www.slightlymotivated.com two guys from the cast (ya gotta check out the bio's) i've actually worked with. jimmy owens was on loren's first movie (i was the boom mic guy) and the infamous gareth reynolds who was loren's roommate on joy st. in boston -i ended up with a pair of gareth's shoes. true stroy, one way to tell if you're seriously drunk is to lose your own shoes. Anyway...

Flip/Flop

2004-02-07T06:47:00.000-05:00

I went to a new years eve party when I was 18. that party was as close to "almost" as two people get. It was also Y2K. I drove 15 minutes away from my town, with three other guys in the car. They of course could, if any showed, drink as much as they wanted to. I was destined to spend the biggest new years sober and bored. I remember standing inside this barn, it was a huge barn. Big enough for 50, 60 kids. There was a pool table, 4 couches and a makeshift bar with a huge refridgerator behind it. on top of the bar, at first I thought there was a television. But the way the humans standing infront of it interacted with it’s glowing screen I could tell that it wasn’t a TV. The longer I stared at them staring I realized it was a computer monitor. There were people 360 degrees around me so I just asked aloud as to why there might be a computer outside in a barn. When I found out as to why the monitor sat on the bar, I couldn’t believe it. he was using his computer to play music. Not cd’s inside the cd-rom, but actual files on his computer? Come on. You’ve got to be kidding me. I couldn’t believe it, this kid had 100’s of songs playing all night. Jessie’s Girl, All Along the Watch Tower, Purple Rain, Stairway to Heaven… it was my first living moment with mp3’s. something that has taken over our lives here in the 21st century. Kodak has stopped production on all 35mm products. Holy shit. So I suppose it’s safe to say that the “future” is beginning. The space age where dinosaurs walk across the skyscrapers of Tokyo on high definition monitors inside the windows. To live to see Walt Disney not only shut down the animation studio in Florida, but to go so far as to change the name of hand drawn animation to “traditional animation.” I could go on and on but it’s almost 4am and Ryan Finn is getting married tomorrow.

Random memories are for the most part, the best memories to have. You can get away with calling them flash backs. I almost forgot the one that caused this chunk of writing. I’ve been sitting in front of this screen for 4 years now. My eyes have melded to the pixels inside the motherboard.

Greetings from Woonsocket

2004-01-12T20:27:00.000-05:00

[please note how this person spells the word "cousin" because it's worth noting]

Mystikal52173: yo what up kid
Dj Applejax: hello
Mystikal52173: is this aj
Dj Applejax: it is, who is this?
Mystikal52173: michelle
Mystikal52173: what up kid
Mystikal52173: what did you want beth to find out
Dj Applejax: who's beth?
Mystikal52173: ??????????/
Dj Applejax: are you sure you have the right person?
Mystikal52173: is this beths cuzent
Mystikal52173: are you aj
Dj Applejax: i am.
Mystikal52173: how old are you
Dj Applejax: 21.
Mystikal52173: sorry
Dj Applejax: hahaha... it's okay. i've been trying to figure out who you are for like a week now...
Dj Applejax: where did you get my screename from?
Mystikal52173: you
Mystikal52173: i think
Dj Applejax: hmmmm
Mystikal52173: sorry
Dj Applejax: who is this beth you speak of?
Dj Applejax: where are you guys from?
Mystikal52173: woonsocket
Dj Applejax: huh. no clue.
Mystikal52173: where you from
Dj Applejax: new york
Mystikal52173: oh sit
Dj Applejax: my name is aaron. but people do call me aj
Mystikal52173: oh ic
Mystikal52173: dogs
Dj Applejax: not the person you thought i was?
Mystikal52173: nope
Mystikal52173: dogs

Friday Night @ the Varland's

2003-12-20T04:20:00.000-05:00

[this is an away message i wrote for mike varland durning the middle of one of the many Varlandapaloozas. i think this was the night justin bachulack got coldcocked by aaron weaver... twice.]

so i'm home... but home is not here. here is not where i live. i am not michael. i have a brother named michael, but it's not the one you know... unless you know a Joy. alas, 3am is amazing no matter how many times you get there... new deal in the backround, floating through the kitchen from the speaker by the rafters. "this is porno music!" julia dumo-house-key just said. "yeah, blahblahblah." echoed jon mager. that's not May-Grrr... you can call him Cracked One-Eye Jon. to tell you the truth, i just forgot what beer i was drinking...
to review: Michael is alive and well, he's home for break and enjoying it to the fullest. wish you were here, and all that bullshit.

The Snow Fall

2003-12-16T15:23:00.000-05:00

I know this much is true. Every time you think its love, it’s not. The line between love and lust is so fine that to be able to say “I love” that person takes years. But those years, they can’t be spent in the presence of the one you love. Real love is something that cannot be felt. It doesn’t make your toes curl or your fingers tingle. It doesn’t knot up your stomach and leave you breathless. That’s lust. At first it’s lust for the physical touching, but it never moves much past that. Craving their presence, needing to smell their skin, to lie naked under cold sheets, waiting breathlessly for them to get to your house. Missing them when they’re gone… it ain’t love. Love is only a word, like lust, like all of these… Love, I have finally come to understand, is something that’s not felt by your body. In fact it has nothing to do with the physical person you’re with, but rather, their mind, the subconscious connection that can only be formed once you’ve lived through the lust. To arrive at a connection this deep can only be made by giving up all hope. You have to realize that you’re never going to see this person again, you will never share another moment under the blankets, or across from one another at The Olive Garden. The endless mindless hours of movies, of TV, mix CD’s in the car, all of that will never happen again. In order to live with someone for the rest of your life, you have to figure out how to live with out them. Nothing is permanent. All great loves will one day have to part and if you don’t understand that, then you can never complete the circle with that person, it will be broken at the weakest point. The same location every other lust goes askew. That bullshit cliché sentence that everyone from DMX to your mother knows “if you love something, let it go…” is true. I hate myself for admitting this, but it’s true. The love that forms is slow love, real love, love that has nothing to do with the word, or what they show you on TV. It’s a calm blanket over one’s mind. An understanding that only the authors know, being able to squint your eyes just right to see the syntax in between the lines. In other words, not having to say or do a damn thing. No need for explanations, because there is no way to form the words to explain. What exists is beyond words. Our entire perception of everything around us is controlled and limited by words. They’re only patterns of sounds we recognize. You hear the word “love” and you make think of roses and wine. Problem is you’re stuck limiting yourself to the understanding of words. In fact, roses and wine have nothing to do with loving someone. That’s “lust.” The acts, the physical portion of what I’m talking about, is all lust. Love and Lust go hand in hand. For every human being on this planet there are actually two. You. Your physical body, your ass sittin’ in front of this computer, and then there’s you. Whatever you are inside your mind, the never-ending vastness of your conscious and subconscious. You have your body, and your thoughts. Two parts. Two words. Love, Lust. The line is the finest in the history of evolutionary emotions. Confusion of the two leads to doom. The understanding between the two is only achieved through time, which means doing and saying nothing. Allowing life to move around you and not through you. Every moment something is happening otherwise you’d be dead. And every moment has two outcomes, it either happens, or it doesn’t. Leaning your mind towards one of the two will falter your path. You have to stay humble and allow the outcomes to move past on either side of you. The truth that is hidden behind “love” stands with you at the other end of your path. From where you stand, in between every moment’s outcome, is where your mind opens up and the understanding of “why” is finally achieved. Why all the shit ‘n’ piss that ended things in the first place happened. Why you’ve gone in the direction you have. You begin to understand all the choices you’ve made and even the ones you haven’t gotten to yet. You feel that tranquilizing calm of what is behind the word “love,” and for some reason everything… makes… sense. Lust is there to bite you in the ass; Love is there to mop up the blood.

TRINITY

Maybe we did something wrong.

NEO

Or didn't do something.

MORPHEUS

No, what happened happened and couldn't have happened any other way.

NEO

How do you know?

MORPHEUS

We are still alive.

(from reloaded)

ph44: Press that button and you're dead!

2003-12-10T03:33:00.000-05:00

i was going to guess the date of this photo but'uh....
guess not.

Inside a Black Hole

2003-11-20T05:29:00.001-05:00

PROLOUGE: The Next Thing You Know… (front porch scene)
PART ONE: The New Deal (from blockbuster to Ithaca)
PART TWO: This Will Teach Us Nothing (the colts lost)
PART THREE: What Happened Last Time (the yanks lost)

Prolouge: The Next Thing You Know…

FRONT PORCH: NIGHT

SAMANTHA and KURT are seated next to one another on the loveseat. Their legs and arms intertwined. HOWEY and JOEL are standing with their backs against the wall. In between the wall and the loveseat is the front door. Everyone has a cigarette in their hand. There is also cigar forgotten in the ashtray still burning.

KURT

…So everything couldn’t happen for reasons.
(beat)
Wouldn’t shit just happen?

HOWEY AND JOEL exchange looks. JOEL finishes his cigarette and picks up the cigar.

HOWEY

Kind of like we just happen to forget about the blunt?

KURT

(flatly)
No one’s listening…

JOEL

Naw man, we heard ya. People always say “everything happens for a reason”

HOWEY

-And you’re saying that if everything is happening for reasons-

SAMANTHA

(like she’s heard it a million times)
Wouldn’t aaalll reason be lost? Wouldn’t things just happen.

KURT frowns and slowly nods. JOEL hands him the blunt. KURT sips his beer, and hands it to SAMANTHA who begins to drink it. He exhales loudly and stares aimless at the blunt as he rolls it back and forth in between his fingers. He inhales very slowly. SAMANTHA continues to drink the beer until it’s finished.

in need of a buffalo trip

2003-10-28T21:48:00.000-05:00

[originaly an IM conversation]

“I need a buffalo trip,” I said. “Shit man, what the fuck?”
Eric shook his head, “Not in the next seven days bro.”
I took a step back, “Whoa,” I laughed. “What's up for the next week?”
He smirked calmly and shrugged his shoulders, “I’m booked all week, and maybe even Saturday. Monday and Tuesday I need to work on my Halloween costume. The next day is the party.”
I kept staring at him.
“Then Thursday is Marty’s farewell party at Romar’s, and Friday I might have a hot bitch to attend to.”
I slowly nodded in silence, reworking plans out for the rest of the week in my head.
“Saturday I shale sleep,” Eric finished. He sat back and took a sip of his 10 minute stale Coors.
“I guess Friday really is Halloween,” I said. “Wait… did you just tell me that two out of your six days of social life will be spent working,” I paused. “On a costume?” I couldn’t believe it. “Are you sewing it together yourself?”
“Yes actually, I am,” Eric bit back. “I’m gonna be a Siamese twin.”
I stopped for moment and finished the worst part of my beer. I took a slow deep breath, exhaling through my nose, reflecting on the potential of Eric’s costume. He began laughing to himself, understanding what I wouldn’t until the unveiling at the party five days from now.
I pressed my lips together in a Don Corleone frown of modest agreement. “I would have said maybe something to do with anti-gravity, or a Siamese twin.” I opened another beer. “Or maybe turning yourself into a hot slut, or even Beethoven.”

102 & 134

2003-10-05T00:14:00.000-04:00

[two away messages: one written for mike blecha, one written upon returning home from his house that night]

i have to tell you guys something...
this... this person that is creating these words right now... i'm not michael... infact he's not even in this room. mr. bleach-uh is in the kitchen surrounded by hookers and piles of money. we were playing 3's but i think everyone is too fucked up to play anymore. personaly, i'm enjoying myself right now, being aaron, listening to radiohead and whigging out do to my intoxication level. for those of you expecting something else -perhaps, "drinking and shit," i apologize. you see, my parents own the house that your dear friend michael lives in. thus resulting in my ability to do anything i want. please, don't think i am full of what you people would say "myself," it's just a natural reaction to the ability to proceed any why i choose. so call his cellphone already!

oh man... oh man. oh man oh man. i think i made it home safe and sound before all the goddamn goldschlager hit me. -and the world... it's got me spinning. NO! it's the inability to overpower the grasp of gravity, thus keeping you "grounded" with reality. the fact that i have now gotten an eyelash into my poor right eye socket -and my random memory of buying Austin (Plattsburg) a bottle of jack @ the store where the proprietor had won a 19 million dollar lotto pull two weeks prior...
all this, amounts to nothing.
everything is just one long, over worded continuously flowing never ending unstoppable rhetorical directionless sentence- ???????????
what?!
what's next? i have no clue! either do you. alas, the same boat we find ourselves paddling...

Cocaine and Underage Sex

2003-09-18T18:39:00.000-04:00

[i don't know who wrote this. i think i might have.]

“who wants to play, drink a beer?”
“I do.” He drinks a beer.
“he wins!”
“what do I win?”
“another beer!”

standing at home plate he says, “come on timmy throw the silly ball.”

and then there's nelly. god i hate nelly.
and then there's taildaters. god i hate taildaters.
and then there's r. kelly.
god hate's r. kelly.
me too.
why is he allowed to write songs about asian thongs -or something. as i have been bed-ridden all day, the amount of horrible TV is making me sicker. and one moment that occured was the new r.kelly video. he's fucking gross. "thoiathoiathoia thong?" dude, what the hell do you think you're doing? you like to fuck. you like to piss on girls. and you enjoy it more when they're not old enough to drive.

i'll tell you one thing, if George W. Bush and R. Kelly made a video together, i bet there'd be a lot of coke and underage sex.

We Gotta Weed

2003-09-09T12:29:00.000-04:00

"we'll go to the lagoon. we gotta weed and rake, and clean all the spaghetti sauce that's in the sponges. wash it out. then clean the webs out, clean the webs out swiftly."
i just stood there, dumbfounded. i couldn't believe what just came out of his mouth. the lagoon? spaghetti filled sponges? webs!?
he was still sitting there, holding his carrot. he still looked like a rabbit. his nose continued to do that annoying rabbit twitch. he was surrounded by a small cage floored with woodchippings and shit. his shit. HE'S A RABBIT!
why in the hell is he speaking english?
"well, ya awful jackass," he said. "are we going to the lagoon tomorrow or am i gonna have to shoot you in the other foot?"
i looked down. that would explain the unbearable pain i was in.

Where Were You in August of 2003?

2003-08-30T00:56:00.000-04:00

here's another story you fucks:
i was standing outside at some bar last night and this kid's got on a bathtub gin shirt. i yelled to him, "and wendy's on the window sill waiting to be let in!" he laughed and hit me in the arm. "hey, d'you go to IT?" he asks me.
no. no i didn't, thanks for asking.

-i never said the story was gonna be good.

Pizza... Express.

2003-08-07T01:13:00.000-04:00

what you lil bitch let me tell you something you havent raised nothing except for your dick... other than that you aint shit and ill fuck your crew up....i dont need 5 or 10 pple those folks are just behind my back..you just dont have no one backin you up because your not trusted enywere..pple always told me they dont like you in the hood lol...this will be one on one for everyone then you ll see who s number one!!>:o

murz56: wonderfull typing from dennis vendetaa

this doesn't make sence

2003-07-21T12:27:00.000-04:00

this doesn't make sence

the slow burn of that certian kind of sarcasim
that can only be felt between former love
and rolling hills
if we made such a good team
then why the fuck am i writing this?

i've got a bad song
stuck within my head
the words, the rythms
remind me of you
that's not saying much
a car accident
would do the same
or the smell of broken glass
the idea of slit hands
it should've ended with the first argument
i don't care if it was over showtimes
or pizza toppings.
the fire was there
only this shit burned the hell out of me
you're lacking in the soothing fire of passion.

there's a storm coming and i'm not talking about us
i mean the clouds over head are beginning to move
the leaves are turning upside down
embracing what is about to come
the only life on this planet that needs the rain more than me.

Olive Juice: Vol. 2

2003-05-06T22:47:00.000-04:00

JusBlazea50: CHAP

Auto response from dj applejax: i don't know how,
but i'm 21 at midnight.

JusBlazea50: you can be called CHAP
JusBlazea50: WHAT THE FUCK!
JusBlazea50: well atleast your not an old chap
JusBlazea50: then you;d be in for it.
JusBlazea50: you're* rather
JusBlazea50: imagine you're on IM for the first time and its almost satisfying to type here right now
JusBlazea50: well
JusBlazea50: yes.
JusBlazea50: MARCH: a love written in blood
JusBlazea50: the Joys of Flesh
JusBlazea50: stripped Bare
JusBlazea50: dirty secrets?
JusBlazea50: are the titles of the movies playing the painting as mu' backdround, ya HEAR wilbar?...
JusBlazea50: "this boy will have hurting kidneys the next morning"
JusBlazea50: -latest from tcm
JusBlazea50: not latest anymore
JusBlazea50: about ten secounds ago now
JusBlazea50: scouts
JusBlazea50: scouts and scoundrals
JusBlazea50: HAH
JusBlazea50: WOWOWO
JusBlazea50: HA
JusBlazea50: and thats it
JusBlazea50: .
JusBlazea50: the NOT SO ENDING SO, ONCE ABOUT A TIME LIKE THIS, A WEAK WEEK IN OUR LIVES I PRESSED BUTTONS SO LIFE COULD FUNCTION BUT teathered WIVES IN THE STREET MADE THE CONJUNTION I NEEDED, SO I BLEEDED TO CRYPT THE BEING INSIDE ME BUT TEARS ESACPE AND I ALSO SHIT PISSED AND SNEEZE. AKA BLONDE RAPPER NAMES SHIESTA, RAMBO, AND M&M booed off stage last night at Chreenes house of blues. Ray, you know who from the ghostbusters fucked shit up when that bastard rat Charlottes Web brabbed his cob of corn

Auto response from dj applejax: i don't know how,
but i'm 21 at midnight.

JusBlazea50: i dont know
JusBlazea50: HAH
JusBlazea50: brilliant
JusBlazea50: its a fucking gold classic fuck
JusBlazea50: a gold classic fuck for aaron joy ladies and jatalmen
JusBlazea50: THE BELVEDERE TRUMPETS
JusBlazea50: AND A BOGGEY BOO

Sheep Shouldn't Sleep in a Shed, Sheep Should Sleep in a Shack

2003-04-05T12:24:00.000-05:00

If pets could talk.
birds on the shoulder, not poopin
Cats dogs goin out to bars on Friday night.

********************

Eating a bag of chips and you get so nuts with them, you have bb-q flavored bomb shelters over your fingertips. You start to get to the smaller broken –yet still almost whole – chips the ones where you gotta kinda peekinto the bag, give a shake…. You find more big ones and begin mowing again, you lose it man, you start watching the commercials… ‘oh I love this one.” Wait a second… you finish the wad you have in your mouth and actually take a breath for the first time since you opened the bag… and you suddenly become so digusted with the chips and the smell and the shit on your fingers, you almost wanna send ‘em all back into the bag real quick. You just lick your fingers –and of course by the middle finger you’re like… mmmmm those were almost better than bein’ naked and just start right back in on the rest of the 12 chips that are in there.
(sidenote: uh I actually wrote this piece while eating a full bag of chips. Half the keyboard now is all salt ‘n’ vineger)

"As the dawn began to break I had to surrender. The universe will have it's way." -from the song In the Morning of the Magicians by the Flaming Lips

2003-02-07T04:24:00.000-05:00

For the twelfth night in a row he came home to infomercial and Channel 9 Wake Up morning news. You couldn't even call it morning yet, it was still deep into the night for some people.
Walking into a pitch black apartment was at the bottom of his favorite things list, but he still did it, every night. Likewise, at the top of his more loathed things list was waking up in an empty apartment. As guaranteed as the universal movements of the events leading up to them, every morning the apartment was as empty as when he shut his eyes, hoping to wake up anywhere else.
Sleeping, although, was something that he never could figure out. Like washing your car in the middle of winter the second you leave the garage, it slowly begins to regain all the filth that was just carried down the driveway in a parade of suds. Then why tease yourself with dreams so beautiful, so enormous and warm that waking up becomes a nightmare?

This One's About the Nuts

2003-01-12T14:10:00.000-05:00

[i feel bad about this conversation. i was lazy and didn't want to type a lot so i lied to my brother and told him that i really didn't know what a Golgi Apparatus was, when infact i know damn well what it is.]

Aaron: so how do u like that spyder suit?
Michael: its awesome
Aaron: it fits you, huh?
Michael: yea
Aaron: yea its weird. you feel like your naked. everyone can see you golji apparatis.
Michael. golji apparatis...whats that
Aaron: i dunno, i made it up.

ph03: Dude... your father's sportin' a mean musstaaa'che!

2002-10-21T17:37:00.000-04:00

My father cica 1987.

20

2002-05-08T00:28:00.000-04:00

I’m 20. now what? What more am I going to do? What in the hell have I done?
so how in the hell did this one happen? It just happened. Just like everything else in the wicked world, it just happenes. Life, happenes. We don’t really pay attention to it. We never actually do. We want to. We try to, but never succeed. Why? The proof is that you’re reading this, and agreeing. Time isn’t really there. We are made up of two moments in time, the future (which never gets here) and the past (which never goes anywhere) once the future gets here, it’s gone, that same instant and it’s the past. When you take time out of the equation, you find the answer. The answer to why we’re here and what in the hell we;’re supposed to be doing.

ha.

no one knows.

I’m 20 years old, I’m the full time unofficial tech supervisor of office max store no. 898. I have a beautiful girlfriend that I’m madly in love with. I have a shit load of friends that all love my apartment, and I just got a whole heep of new music to listen to for my birthday. To say the least, life is good.
But to speak the truth, there’s something missing. The sence, the satisfaction in knowing, and the calming effects of knowing that I have actually suceded – well, this is where I’m torn. Full time job? Not to bad. But what about school? Eh… who knows… but alas, the stike and reverse of that never happenes.

Lost
Without a thought
A plan
A choice
Not being able to write a single line that made sence
Lost in a thinkness that no one could see though
The choices that were made years before
Made him lose all sight of the hopes to come
Standing alone in his room, the room he’d seen for 20 years before
Began to shink right infront of his eyes
The walls began to move
The books in the book case jumped
As the case began to slide slowly across the floor
The bed
The desk
The tv
The pile of dirty clothes, falling over itself as it crawled and dragged it’s way across the floor as twards his toes.
Panic.
Not to mention the oncoming back pains?

...shit that’s all I’ve got. I wonder what my girlfriend is doing.....

The 6 Foot 8 Man Strikes Again

2001-12-24T20:58:00.000-05:00

dj applejax: just to let you know
dj applejax: your pipe is @ emily's house and she's not gonna be home until sometime next week. i'll get it to you then
snatch7909: this is her father!!!!!

[i don't care who you are, that's some scary shit (imagine if you had dated
his daughter and the break-up didn't go so well.)]

As Forgien as Golf

2001-12-06T21:39:00.000-05:00

[someone's profile]

well, i'm diana! i'm a 16/f from NY. i'm single.. and i'm a varsity cheerleader! and yes, its a sport.. thanx for asking! i'm very proud of my most recent mount.. i do a liberty to an arabesque to a scorpion then we turn it to face the crowd, i do a heal stretch, then we cradle it.. all in an extention.. without reloading in between!! its really awesome!
p.s. sign the guest book! i know you wanna!

BECOMING ONE'S ELSE

2001-11-01T21:32:00.000-05:00

JUST WHAT IN GOD'S NAME HAD I BEEN TALKING ABOUT? HOW LONG DID I GO ON LIKE THAT? OBLIVIOUS TO ANYTHING I WAS SAYING, LIKE SOME KIND OF CRAZED SEX FIEND WHO WOULD STOP AT NOTHING FOR A FRESH YOUNG SCHOOL GIRL -THIS MADNESS MUST STOP -ALONE, I WAS ABLE TO THINK CLEARLY FOR THE FIRST TIME IN YEARS -I SAW GOD IN THOSE FEW FLEETING MOMENTS OF SANITY THAT WERE CRAMMED INBETWEEN EONS OF BLUR'D MADNESS -I WAS SLUMPED OVER ON THE FLOOR LIKE A COKE JUNKIE FIGHTING SOBRIETY -I WAS DROOLING ALL OVER MYSELF AND HER HOMEWORK -I CHOKED AND GAGGED ON MY OVER ACTIVE MUCUS MEMBRANES -NOT ABLE TO CATCH MY BREATH I BEGAN TO FALL FACE FIRST INTO A WHIRLWIND OF PANIC -I WAS OUT OF CONTROL -BECAUSE OF IT IT ONLY THREW ME DEEPER INTO THE HALLWAYS OF A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN -I'M NOT HELPING YOU SHE SAID AS SHE STEPPED OVER ME -I BEGAN TO GAG ON WHAT MY BRAIN WAS TELLING ME -GOOD, IT SAID -NOW YOU SEE -WELCOME TO EVERYONE ELSE -FROM YOUR REACTION, I CAN TELL YOU'RE NOT ENJOYING WHAT YOUR LOOKING AT -MOST PEOPLE WOULDN'T -WAS I TALKING? -THEN WHO WAS THAT? REALITY WAS SLIPPING AWAY LIKE THE LAST SHOCKWAVES OF A BAD ORGASM -HOW COULD THIS BE HAPPENING? HOW DID I LET IT? -MORE IMPORTANTLY HOW DO I STOP IT? -HOW DO I RIGHT THE WRONGS? AND WRONG THE RIGHTS? -WHAT WAS IT THAT I WAS STARING AT? HOW COULD I -WHY NOW? -IT WAS 4:15 IN THE MORNING I FIGURED GOD WENT TO BED BY THEN -IT WAS SO LATE IT WAS EARLY -I NEEDED TO REST -TO SLEEP -IN THE MORNING, EVERYTHING WOULD BE DIFFERENT -SOMETHING DIDN'T FEEL RIGHT -AS IF MY BRAIN HAD OPENED UP AND SWALLOWED ITSELF -I WAS NOT SITTING IN THE CENTER OF INSANITY AND ALL AROUND ME WAS BLACK -IT WAS FUZZY -SHE WAS SAYING SOMETHING TO ME AGAIN -I RECOGNIZED THE VOICE -THE MORE SHE SPOKE -I COULD FEEL THE REAL WORLD BEGINNING TO POKE BACK IN -IN SMALL QUICK SHORT DOSES LIKE A DIABETES PATIENT DRAWING BLOOD FROM THE TIPS OF HIS FINGERS -THE WORLD WAS COMING BACK.

Ode to Batavia, by Jon Mager

2001-10-28T20:43:00.000-05:00

i have to get out of this fucking town. i will pick fucking cabbage in idaho before i'd stay here for my entire life. this place is filled with nosey hipocritical assholes that can't keep their fucked up opinions to them selves. how bout the fat, ugly pimpled chick at mcdonalds hit on me the other day, i wanted to throw my big tasty in her fuckin face. skank. and the humungous kid in my history class needs to shoot himself sometime soon, before he procreates. GOD I HATE BATAVIA. I was getting gas at tops the other day and the dumb whore in front of me thought it would be a good idea to go to blockbuster and leave her fucking car running at the pump. i was ready to kick the fucking tail lights out....then some asshole at work knocked over a $3000 television and busted the fuck out of it, cock sucker.

whoa howhoa

2001-10-24T23:42:00.000-04:00

hellcat145: heoolloooo

Auto response from dj AppleJax: elvis.

hellcat145: you want toi be drukn like me.
hellcat145: yes you do.

dj AppleJax: but i am
dj AppleJax: i am!
hellcat145: aaron is dru kn too
hellcat145: like too
hellcat145: i man
dj AppleJax: yes yes
hellcat145: mean
dj AppleJax: goood man
dj AppleJax: i am drunk
hellcat145: like me
dj AppleJax: you are troo!
dj AppleJax: true?
hellcat145: yea
dj AppleJax: yes true!
hellcat145: and i have to drive
dj AppleJax: no no@
dj AppleJax: heoooooo@
dj AppleJax: do not drive
dj AppleJax: drive where?
dj AppleJax: who?
dj AppleJax: what's going on
hellcat145: liz is hot
hellcat145: im her
dj AppleJax: you're liz?
dj AppleJax: hellloooooo liz
dj AppleJax: how are things liz?
dj AppleJax: i am aaron.
dj AppleJax: aaron is drunk
dj AppleJax: good thinig t he oonly thing i had to do was walk next door
hellcat145: no she's not liz
dj AppleJax: who is this is?
hellcat145: dustin'
hellcat145: anbd he is gonna go watch band of brothers
dj AppleJax: hellooooooo diustin
dj AppleJax: eve n better
hellcat145: bue bue
hellcat145: bye bey
dj AppleJax: bue bue
hellcat145: bye
dj AppleJax: by ebye
dj AppleJax: where war eytou going
hellcat145: leave me a message
dj AppleJax: where are you going
hellcat145: wait
dj AppleJax: get david long
hellcat145: im not on
hellcat145: shit
dj AppleJax: gaivd ling
hellcat145: he's pooping
dj AppleJax: goggelplex
hellcat145: he cant talk to youl.
dj AppleJax: poop tell hinm to talk to me
hellcat145: he cant
hellcat145: byue
dj AppleJax: NOW LATER I MEAN NOT NOW
dj AppleJax: BUEEEEEEEE
dj AppleJax: GODLFIMSH\
dj AppleJax: GOIOOOLDDFISH
dj AppleJax: GOLDFISH
dj AppleJax: HAPPY DAYS ARE COMIN' AT MEEEEEEEE

Auto response from hellcat145: the monkey went around the corner to buy some cheese. when he came back he saw that the goats were all gone, and his pants were muddy!

dj AppleJax: I AM SITINIG ON THE BANNNNNNDDDDDDD
dj AppleJax: LIZZZZZARDS ARE OUT TONIGHT
dj AppleJax: ONLY IF THE APPLES WHERE HERE
dj AppleJax: O KKEEEEP TO KEEEP THE DOCTOR AWAY
dj AppleJax: THE THINGS I'M TALKING ABOUT
dj AppleJax: ARE FUELD BY THE GOLDFISH
dj AppleJax: I THINK...OW. MY FOREHEAD.... I THINK IT'S THAT LITTLE BIT OF SALT THAT'S S-A-L-T AND OF COURSE THE SMILEY FACES.... who the fuck am i writing too ? again? idon't know....
dj AppleJax: OH LOGJAMMIN'
dj AppleJax: DAVE LONG.
dj AppleJax: LONGJAMMIN'

There will never be another you.

2001-10-02T03:22:00.000-04:00

i haven't felt like this in so long. i haven't missed him in ages. i walked away never to look back. but right now i can feel him and smell him, it's killing me. but it's not a hurt like an ache, like i usually feel, it's more like short, quick, stabbing pains. like the memories coming back one by one to stick themselves into my flesh. he was so perfect at that time. everything i wanted in another person. so beautiful and amzingly passionate. i always told him i loved his passion. is it possible i will never love someone again the way i loved him? it was never easy. but always exciting. sometimes i wanted to die inside. sometimes i felt every breath, every movement 100 times stronger cos he was there. he's what i could never have. and have always wanted. do i still love him? yeah, i do. i love that he doesnt wear shoes or socks, that he eats toast, i love that he can't hold hands right, i love that he has so much talent and no ambition. would i ever want to be with him? nope. he has too much baggage. plus he'd never hurt me again. i wouldn't let him. but i'd still love to curl up next to him. or spend hours talking to him. but not who he is now...who he was. the tourtured, hopeful, passionate spirit that i thought as long as i believed in would never die...

-Sarah K. Steck

the answer

2001-08-30T01:56:00.000-04:00

"They all became part of the river. It was the goal of
all of them, yearning, desiring, suffering; and the
river's voice was full of longing, full of smarting woe,
full of insatiable desire. The river flowed on towards
to it's goal. Siddartha saw the river hasten, made
up of himself and his relatives and all the people he
had ever seen. All the waves and water hastened,
suffering, towards goals, many goals, to the
waterfall, to the sea, to the current, to the ocean
and all the goals were reached and each one was
succeeded by another. The water changed to
vapour and rose, became rain and came down
again, became spring, brook and river, changed
anew, flowed anew. But the yearning voice had
altered. It still echoed sorrowfully, searchingly but
other voices accompanied it, voices of pleasure
and sorrow, good and evil voices, laughing and
lamenting voices, hundreds of voices, thousands of
voices............."

Siddartha
by, Herman Hesse

ph11: Everything really did change.

2001-08-30T00:47:00.000-04:00

[dave's apartment.buffalo.ny.august.2001]

ph05: Again, with the things that I have (not actually) spoken about before.

2001-07-27T23:47:00.000-04:00

yes.

ph08: If you knew half of the stuff I've gotten myself into, then this website would not thrill you.

2001-07-25T15:37:00.000-04:00

im sure they're cwosed.

2001-02-24T12:15:00.000-05:00

yes man tatter,
everyday i love the music of the dave mathews man. I'd like to
smoke nuggets. I smoked in the his one time, i did, really i did. but the
house was gray. and the people in the house were a pale pale yellow... you
know that kind... where...it's, kinda red where it's streached over over
his sick muscle tissue. zap momma whatcha talking about buster. i think
therefore i stink.
here i am you shit faced twatter nut juicey mop of butterrrrrscotch weirner
shit headed player of nutterbutter jelly rolls under her shirted twinky
fart.

-a power puff guy wrote this

The Life of Superhero (D-Tea with Aj5 edit)

2001-02-02T00:49:00.000-05:00


it's rather -well, i don't know what it's rather like. it's not so
much funny, than depressing. it's not so much cute, than-

I know, I know. it's like high school, but with everyone I hated and
all the kids I never talked to. GCHS is the best way to describe it.
There is no campus. It’s all housed in one building, just like high
school. No one really lives there, just like high school. We all
drive there, park our cars, walk a mile and a half to the one and
only door anyone goes in through... we go to class and drive home.
We even hang out in-between classes. Some of us have hour breaks,
others have 20 minutes. 8, 9am rolls around and the flood of
red-eyed, half-asleep, burnt-out kids all walk towards that one
door. some of them still carry their backpacks on one shoulder.
because... it's cool.
you sit in class with kids you hate. you sit there looking out the
window, but the only view you have is that of the cafeteria which is
filled with more kids you never talk to. but as much as you wish you
could pull the trigger of the gun that's been pressed against your
temple since you parked the car, you can't help but smile. how many
will be here, 3 years from now? who will be the ones sitting in the
back, attending class with your freshman brother? i smile, one of
those million dollar smiles, that only i can see. i'm not sure if
you remember him, but... mike d. they used to call him. mike
desionaro (like the mustard, djuan-fuck me i can not spell that...
let's move on) ANYWAY -he's in my COM 110 class and when ever he's
called on, somehow he works into his answer, that he's in a band and
he wants to be a dj on wgcc and that is band isn't mainstream
they're "progressive" as he calls them. i think their band is called
neidam nori or some other heavy metal band name spelled backwards...
mike d. if one thing makes me wanna get the fuck out of here, it's
him. him and his goddamn band neidam nori.

ph102: 1, 2, & (3).

2000-12-25T12:11:00.000-05:00

L.A. and A.J.

Purchase File (#42)

2000-12-10T03:05:00.000-05:00

[yet another example of what "college level intoxication" is all about]

Jack Napier 134: what mutha fuckin time it is?
drumpm: 3:01am
Jack Napier 134: thank you.....
Jack Napier 134: MURDA NUCKAS!
drumpm: aaron?
Jack Napier 134: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH
Jack Napier 134: HAHAHAHHAH
Jack Napier 134: sorrrrry buddy
Jack Napier 134: `010101020224!

The Joy of Mad-Libs on the Internet

2000-11-27T14:04:00.000-05:00

[this one was for david d'amico]

The story of Dave Da'Flimico

Originally by Owen Prater

I was born in the teepee at the rez almost 19 years ago. My mother was a junior spanking champion and my father was a dead monkey fucker. I had 2 brothers and 1 sisters. Our family was unusually friendy with one another while we showered. We went on many vacations. One memorable year we went to the teepee at the rez. Our luggage got lost and all we had were 2 rather small jars of rotted snatch. We didn't even have a cum covered pubic hair! Besides that, I think my family was pretty normal. Sure, one of my brothers kept an a bloody dildo with poop on it under his pillow and took it with him everywhere. In addition, my Mom, Wendy ate wet asshole everyday with dinner. Well, I guess every family has their own quirks. Ours just has more then most.

The Bowl of Ramin That Ended Up in My Shoes (Purchase File #37)

2000-11-27T02:59:00.000-05:00

Squeakywheel5: you go buy food now okay?
dj applejax: yeah.
dj applejax: i'm gonna die if i don't.
Squeakywheel5: me too

later...

dj applejax: to save me money... i decided to eat ramin noodles... i've been miserable ever since i got here today... i didn't want to come back to this place, and i'm stuck here for 18 more days... i hate everything about this place... i'm down to 2 packages of ramin noodles... the bowl of freshly seperated ramin, sit on my desk and somehow i knock the bowl off the desk, and all over my floor, my seat, and inside my fucking boots... i really am not having a good night. i think i need to watch the three stooges and go to bed...

White Guys Under My Closet Door (child is the father to the man)

2000-11-20T18:48:00.000-05:00

Date: Mon, 20 Nov 2000 16:48:56 -0800
REPLY | REPLY ALL | FORWARD [As Attachment]
Previous | Next | Delete | Done

someone hands you a bottle that says vitamin e but really it contains vitamin x, as in used to be...the plot lines have changed so many times in so many ways I'm not sure just what part of the book I am in...chapters are written just as quickly as pages are discarded...has anyone mentioned to you that this all could be a ruse? a put on of the highest order, a conspiracy so thick that the participants are not even aware of their own roles, even though they speak the lines as written, drawing on the guns to fire flowers into your open mouths...we were forced to speak in code before for lack of recognition left us at the doorstep cold and unhappy, so what makes you think now is any different...one has to only take the temperature of the body to bear witness to the fact that the heart still beats alive, and as the monster awakens so to will the old ways of destruction and epiphany cracking...welcome back say the signs but we have never left, so play victim, cry foul, blame whomever whatever anytime, you cannot stop the rock from achieving it's ultimate goal of harmony and true resolution...we are in control...seek elsewhere and you will not find...we hold the key, and it may be you that cannot find the door...but alas the door has been open, so go, dust off your vinyl and peer between cracks well worn, there is a reason that meteorites keep moving until they hit something, only to shatter into a million pieces...I celebrate the earth, in mourning, in passing, in every single breath...I so desperately want all of it to work, for everyone to get what they need, to see what they need to see...blessed are the moments of celebration, where one recognizes the paradigm that things are the way they are for some unseen reason...we are all dying all the time, and life is to short to hold on to dreams that are no longer dreaming, words that have no meaning, feelings no longer feeling...

-william patrick corgan

so here i sit, looking out the window, not at snowfall, but rain. relentless non-stop rain.
i am half a world away from the ones i love, wishing i could be home, this very second...
but i have 23 hours to go.
and if God chooses, maybe more.
the airport is closed.
all flight are canceled.
those who were flying today, are bumped to wednesday...
but what about those who are flying tomorrow?
no one knows.
home.
such a simple idea, but so impossible to obtain.
where did i go wrong?
did i?
some of us haven't been home since we where in high school... some of us, never had a home. No home? a thought that i can not even concive, has been a way of life for so many.

"We believe in God as a kind of universal consciousness.... God is love - God is you - God is me - God is everything right here in this room. It's a spiritual concept which inspires a great deal of our music." ~Carl Wilson(LLVS pg.26.)

"Zen brought God in Heaven down onto the earth...God ceased to be something outside us and consequently his kingdom was to be conceived as our own and its inhabitants were no less than ourselves, including all that makes up this universe."~D.T.Suzuki, Zen And Japanese Buddhism(pg.34)

"I'm writing a teen-age symphony to God." ~Brian Wilson

MANY OF YOU MAY HAVE HEARD ABOUT AN ALBUM THAT HAS BEEN SLAVED OVER FOR QUITE SOME TIME NOW... THE ALBUM COVER, ART WORK, AND EVEN THE TITLE HAS BEEN KEPT IN SECERET SINCE THE BEGINNING. NO ONE EVEN KNOWS THE REAL SET-LIST, THE ORDER OF THE SONGS, OR EVEN WHAT SONGS ARE ON THE ALBUM. SOME HAVE BEEN LEAKED OUT, IN ONE FORM OR ANOTHER... BUT NOTHING SUBSTANTIAL OR RECGONIZABLE...

BUT THIS EMAIL IS NOT ABOUT TO FILL YOU IN ON ANY OF THAT. INFACT, THIS EMAIL IS ABOUT TO TAKE WHAT YOU THOUGHT YOU KNEW ABOUT WHAT WAS COMING, AND COMPLETELY FUCK IT ALL UP...

THE GENIUS BEHIND THIS NAMELESS ALBUM (SOME HAVE CALLED IT WITCHES AND DEVILS, OTHER CLAIM IT TO BE CALLED SIMPLEY, THE OX... THERE WERE EVEN RUMORS THAT IT WAS GOING TO BE CALLED "WGUMCD" THE MEANING OF THAT IS TOTALY UNKNOWN) HAS RECENTLY ACCUIRED AN ADDITIONAL TWO TAPES THAT SERVE AS BOOKENDS TO HIS ORIGINAL ALBUM. THE BOOKENDS ARE UNCOMPAIRABLE TO ANYTHING THAT HAS EVER BEEN DONE BEFORE, NOR COMPAIRALBE TO ANYTHING THAT WILL EVER BE DONE... IF YOU HAVE BEEN FOLLOWING THIS ON GOING STORY, THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE SOME SORT OF A CLUE AS TO WHAT IS COMING YOUR WAY... IF NOT, THEN I SUGGEST YOU GET SOME SLEEP... REST UP, TAKE YOUR VITAMINS, AND SAY YOUR PRAYERS, BECAUSE ONCE YOU BEGIN TO SMiLE, YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO STOP.

Purchase File (#3)

2000-11-18T02:25:00.000-05:00

[back when i actually went to college (for that blink of time) i used to lose my mind on new york city pot. i would get wasted and then sit down and attempt to type out an emaisl to david d'amico and dustin bow. the three of us would write back and forth to one another. each time attempting to top the last email that had been sent out.]

3 oh its the majick number.

so ladies and gents...

it is time for a ppguy exluceive!
all the weed
possiblle
a bowl an hour
for 8 hours
all day
saturday
what do you think?

i lke

i likhinkt!

i like....

read this
TELL ME WHAT
YOU
think.

IT MEANS SO MUCH MORE TO US JUST THE SMIOKE ASPECT OF ACHEEVING COOFFD AT THAT MONOMET IS MORE JAMOIGS@ THAN ANYTHING ATHAT COUURES IN OR U NOMR OMA life!

Tha’ts in!

Littlie !!!K KJ!IJ!IJ I!JIJ I!JLI$J lkj3lk jlkj kjjokjlkj in the farmhouse ojs is here with the listons and ig tgigigles nad !!!!! I’m here with the barfoijotr anlkd milkjyt way!! So than tha tnat hant ath I could onlyk sidoie or r scokeone on tmy e e tm my own vomit that I coud ddie!~ help me helmpe god in .he avhe . helo e jin go?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! w I ttttttttttttttttches and d D E V I L S !!!!!!!!!!!!! SDRAWSAEKMATEMEITRWSDOOWAABVACK! OH OIJGOIj!”I!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

So then we all came out
And it was darj
Like the monnn was crying
!
ehre at the buens ivston social club! Peopke tlikst sotihs oishoiheihe hhe hti jaijoit hti ass pokclej!

OKA~!

I AM SO FUCKED UP.
the tv is like a 3d image magic eye......
forever powered by smile..
god only knowas what is about to happen.but i tink josh will say it............i had theese ureleased backroungs....andthewere reaally good..... they had good vibrations and this amazing philosopst

you're s ick lilte moknyey to say yo ulike witches and devils. it wasn't me says god 2. cancer for the cure is just tomorrow away. but tomorrow never nkows for the guerrilla radio is about to hit the pueblos nevo. the farmohuse is full of kc faggots.......

i'm sorry i can no longer go on.....
my time here is done

scott facuse on the scihing! was played by jess than jake on wednesday.....
it was ssoooo good

thiogut about us thieree going to see then
bsboer
and going just nuts
like spoieerd monkeys!
that i love tthat
idea!

You Won't (really) Get This, But Read It Anyway.

2000-11-11T16:47:00.000-05:00

You have just entered room "squeakYwheel 5 Chat32."
yantzers: hello
squeakYwheel 5: there we go
squeakYwheel 5: hello jen
DJ AppleJax: hello
yantzers: hello
yantzers: how are all of you today
squeakYwheel 5: i'm tired
squeakYwheel 5: and my face hurts
DJ AppleJax: i'm good.
yantzers: why does your face hurt?
squeakYwheel 5: i got hit
DJ AppleJax: i have a hugh gash on my wrist
squeakYwheel 5: how was the partying last night?
yantzers: i went to the movies
yantzers: and saw and independent film
yantzers: 'drivers wanted' -it was filmed in rochester
squeakYwheel 5: DRIVERS WANTED!
squeakYwheel 5: HAHAHAHAHHA
DJ AppleJax: DRIVERS
DJ AppleJax: OH MY GOD
squeakYwheel 5: KICK ASS!
squeakYwheel 5: WE SAW THAT
DJ AppleJax: THAT'S TOO MUCH
squeakYwheel 5: ME AND AARON ADN WENDE AND LISA
yantzers: it was funny huh
yantzers: i liked it
DJ AppleJax: i enjoyed it.
squeakYwheel 5: IT WAS FUCKING HILARIOUS
squeakYwheel 5: OH MY
squeakYwheel 5: YES... IT WAS GOOD
squeakYwheel 5: EXCUSE MY LANGUAGE
yantzers: it was awesome, i laughed the whole time
DJ AppleJax: how long ago did we see that
DJ AppleJax: that was right before you left wasn't it?
squeakYwheel 5: BEEP BEEP! GET OUT OF THE WAY PLEASE!
DJ AppleJax: hahhhaha
squeakYwheel 5: FFUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKEEEEEEEERRRRRRR!!!!!!!!!
squeakYwheel 5: AH!
yantzers: hey dears, i gotta go eat now
DJ AppleJax: really?
squeakYwheel 5: NO
DJ AppleJax: it's not lunch time already is it?
yantzers: yeah, i have to eat brunch
squeakYwheel 5: IT'S A LIE
DJ AppleJax: what the hell....
squeakYwheel 5: I KNOW!
DJ AppleJax: brunch?
yantzers: but i will talk to you guys later alright?
DJ AppleJax: you eat brunch at UB?
yantzers: yes we have brunch 11:30-1:30
yantzers: no breakfast
DJ AppleJax: that's lunch.
yantzers: no
yantzers: cause they have breakfast stuff there
squeakYwheel 5: THAT IS LUNCH
yantzers: no
squeakYwheel 5: YES!
yantzers: no
squeakYwheel 5: YOU KNOW
DJ AppleJax: yes. brunch is pre lunch
yantzers: but i gotta go sexy people
squeakYwheel 5: WE CAN ARGUE TIL LINNER
yantzers: linner?
yantzers: haha
DJ AppleJax: lunch and dinner
yantzers: ok but bye bye gusy
squeakYwheel 5: WE'RE THE SEXIEST GUYS SHE KNOWS
squeakYwheel 5: POOR JEN
yantzers: hell yeah
yantzers: bnye
DJ AppleJax: it's a shame
squeakYwheel 5: AARON
DJ AppleJax: we're so far away.
yantzers: bye
yantzers has left the room.
squeakYwheel 5: YOU'RE THE SEXIEST GUY I KNOW
squeakYwheel 5: OH DAMN
DJ AppleJax: TIM, I LOVE YOU.

I’d like to say a word to the people, not so much the people in the audience...

2000-11-06T00:30:00.000-05:00

I'm sorry I never got to respond to your email from
before, but I suppose we're all busy and as I had no
time to myself to write you most likely had as little
time to read. I think about what you wrote to me
almost everyday, there's something about that text
that struck me in such a way, how it was mysteriously
written almost in code as it so unexpectedly sat
burning white from the Evansdale lab computer screen.

Move aside, and let the man go through.

A sort of battle cry, as it were... if you think about
something and bounce it around in your head long
enough it starts to scream at you. It turns itself
inside out right before your proverbial eyes... well,
perhaps your brain turns it inside out before you...
well, more likely your brain turns itself inside out
thinking of the infinite possibilities of meaning
within the simplest of words that you repeat to
yourself so completely, varying the rhythm and
kaidence so subltly every repitition that you don't
even know where you are when you're done with the
thought, and you least of all know how you got there.

You begin to see the world in not such a different
light, persay, but suddenly the light BECOMES
something to you... it is and entity all its own, it
is another thing standing in the room with you,
another object to take up your precious space.

Super BonBon, SuperBon... Bon!, Super...
Bon.....bon!

The theory of words and the vastness of what the
imagination can to with 26 letters is beyond ...
well... the vastness of the imagination.

Suddenly you're standing in a crowded basement bar...
the adolescent brainchild of the sharp cutting-edge
crisp magazine glamshot photos and the raw grit of the
$15,000 indy film. You hear music that is some
intoxicating combination of the of the lights and the
warmth, the odd colored drink that the shot girl just
handed you, and the sheer power of the perfume from
the blonde in the tight black skirt behind you who is
the remarkable, and beautiful combination of Krista
Bordner and Sarah Michelle Gellar ... somehow makes
everything... per-fucked... just per-fucked.
The music rises, as per-fucked music sometimes tends
to do... you see the entire crowd... somehow given the
flexibility to go from a calm James Tayler audience to
a riot. They rise up... in unison as it were, moving
as a mass of humanity and a sample of the human
sexuality, that in the end, drives us all. The women
begin to breathe heavier and the men can to nothing
but raise an eyebrow at some of the shit that appears
to be about to go down. As the beat continues you can
smell the sex in the air, perhaps it's so strong that
it radiates over the perfume and the sweat and the
alcohol... but more likey, it is the inevitable result
of the mixing of all of it. The once unfamiliar faces
around you are suddenly family, and you have not a
quam about grabbing the blonde from behind you and
leading her out to the dancefloor. Songs you hate on
the radio begin to come over the huge speakers
suspended only inches over your head... you love them
though... this once loathed music beats in unison with
your heart and you libido, and the incredible
sensation you feel radiating from the tight polyester
covering the blondes treasures. There are no clocks
in this place, for there is no time. There are no
windows in this place because there is no outside
world. Who you are here is not who you are... well,
you know how it goes.

-Tim Wigton

Anthem For the Year 2000

2000-11-02T00:35:00.000-05:00

I hate every single one of these songs.
Well…almost.
These songs actually mean a lot to me. If these songs, don’t in some way, take you back to a time, when you had your whole life a head of you, when you were at the top of the world, when you were still in high school…then you didn’t graduate in the year 2000.
Ever since my first day of school, my first day of school, I was told that I was special. Mrs. Packard, my kindergarden teacher, also told me that our class was special because we would be graduating in the year, 2000! Holy shit! 2000? Is that even a year? Shit, by the time I graduate, we’ll be flying around in our cars and jumpin’ on hover boards and our 3 square meals a day will come in easy to swallow gel-caps.
Well, not exactly…by the year 2000, we were flying around in our cars, but we were still on the ground, just driving a lot faster. Our meals didn’t come in easy to swallow gel-caps, but rather, neatly wrapped paper, ie: Burger King and McDonnald’s. And I’m still pissed that the whole hover board thing from Back to the Future II was as about as true as the flux capasitor.
Either way, the year 2000 sure was one hell of a year.
But this cd is not about the year 2000, rather, the graduating class of it.
If you’re up to date on your memories, then you’ll know every single one of these songs, and chances are, you know all the words too. You’ll be able to think back, to maybe not the first time you heard the song, but close enough.
I started the cd with a song that not too many people will know of, but I felt oddly compeled to use it…Hova Song…pretend I’m the Jigga.
Then of course we move right into one of the worst songs to come out of our senior year…Back That Ass Up. This song is my tribute to Jimmy Stading. If you don’t know why, IM me and maybe I’ll tell you, cos I know I won’t be getting any phone calls about that one…
The Bad Touch of Blue mix is the product of my evening spent at The Attic, in Myrtal Beach. I go away on vacation with the two sexiest sons-a-bitches ever to come out of that high school, and us three, (know as ATM, to a few girls living in Michigan and one on Long Island) wanted to bless The Attic with not only or amazing dancing ability, but we also wanted to met some Southern Bells we kept hearing about. We pay our 10 and in we go. If I would’ve know it was going to be a high school dance I would’ve stayed in my tent. I knew more people there, then not. Bad Touch of Blue is my gift to those bastards I saw there that night…thank you for cramping our style.
There was a time when I actually knew What A Girl Wants, but then I met Kelly Paterson…anyway…
Try Again, has no actually memory tacted on to it, just a general time frame in the past…late February, early March.
I’m not sure if it’s been done before…but when I went to snowball 2000, I had five dates, and I don’t mean to toot my own horn, but beep beep man…The song, Man, I Feel Like A Woman, was going to go on the cd, mostly because of Crystal’s ability to skank now thanks to me, but instead Better Off Alone made the cut. I’m not sure why…
Take A Picture, Otherside, and Kryptonite are the best main stream rock of our senior year…actually I do believe that those songs were the only main stream rock songs worth of placement on this cd. Sure, there was Blink-182, and Papa Roach (“cut my doughnut into pieces…”) and lest we forget Limp Bizit (yes, Bizit). But they just plain suck. Sorry.
Jumpin’ Jumpin’ makes me jump. Everytime I hear that damn song, it doesn’t matter if I’m on the subway in New York and some thug’s got their ten year old boombox sittin on their lap, I just need to jump.
If my memory serves me right (most of the time, it doesn’t) Party Up came out at the ass end of our senior year. I was torn between that and What’s My Name but once the sound clip was infront of it, Party Up was the obvious choice.
Forgot About Dre…If you were ever around me and David D’Amico while we were stoned and the song came on, you were treated to our very own rendition of it. My name is Slim Shady, and David, I swear the kid’s half outta Compton.
Why Big Pimpin? If you don’t know, stop reading this right now and I want you to just take the cd out of the cd player, throw it on the ground, and stomp on it, cos you’re a dammed idiot. Dustin Bow said it best, “It’s just an undeniable beat…” If you’re still clueless, lemme refresh your memory. Senior skip day…deep into Letchworth State Park…and all that naked swimming that went on. But of course, the real songs from that day are neither Top 40, nor to they contain any English words spoken…think real hard, you’ll figure ‘em out.
Which brings us to the “end” of the cd. Graduation Song, a rather stupid song, but since it was the last song played at prom, and it was the song for the class of 2000, it was a no brainer to put it on the cd.

The Last Episode is what started this whole thing. I was bored one night, and a little stoned, and I had this great idea to somehow mix a Dr. Dre song with Britney Spears…as best as I could “mix” two songs together. And what a better song then Oops!…I Did It Again. Who can forget that delicious red body suit… Anyway, what you hear is what I did, that night, and by the time I had mixed the two songs I was also 3 quarts drunk. I don’t know how, but it came out pretty good, if I don’t say so myself. Part III of The Last Episode could’ve been The Real Slim Shady, but that would’ve just been stupid. Criminal was picked for two reasons… One, the intro works well with the song prior, and two, Ben Buholts. I can’t remember how many people were there that night, but Ben sang to Matt Cippilone, and it was the most amazing thing I had ever heard. Then Terri cut Ben off.
Always by Dave Matthews (a.k.a. #40) mean a lot to me. It’s the most meaningful song on the cd. Why? Listen to the lyrics. And, right as Dave finishes saying “always” for the last time in the song, listen carefully to the guy in the crowd that yells something over the rest of the 50,000 screaming fans…it sends chills down my spine everytime.

And so, this brings us to, what seems at first to be the most of out place song on the cd, God Only Knows. As you may know, is a song by the Beach Boys. Written by the one and only Brian Wilson, taken from the album “Pet Sounds.” It was used also in the film Boogie Nights, directed by the great Paul Thomas Anderson, but that has no relivance here. I’m going to leave it up to you guys to decide why it’s the final track on the cd.

When the cd is looked at as a whole, it’s rather confusing. It feels complete, but at the same time, it feels as if there is a lot missing. The great thing about Top 40 radio is that there are 40 songs…and those 40 change, for the most part, weekly. But reguardless of what kind of music you love, be it Jurassic 5, Zap Mama, Critters Buggin’, The Encrica Slavata’s Fun Time Trio, or The Burns…there’s just something about Top 40 that sticks with you. Maybe it’s the mindlessness and the repition of it all. But I think it’s the memories that are hidden within the syntax of each song that make the songs what they are.

Then again, I could just be reading to far into it all.

When you do nothing, you lose all track of time.

2000-10-30T12:59:00.000-05:00

I am not a writer.

...as I sat there, attempting to enjoy my food, I found myself thinking about a lot more than "what in the hell is wrong with my cheeseburger?"

With more thoughts in my head than food in my stomach, I got up and left. I couldn't believe what was happening. For the first time in a long time, I was beginning to cry. Why?

A combination of a lot of things.
I sat at the Hub, alone with Borders & boundaries in my ears, thinking about what really happens when you grow up and get lost. Because no matter how lost you think you are, finding yourself and finding your way again - is so simple, even the most brilliant genius could over look it.

I couldn't tell you what I did last Monday, nor could I tell you what I was wearing on Saturday -but if you asked me for directions back to my house I could tell you.

enerX (Purchase File #7)

2000-10-26T01:56:00.000-04:00

From: KIDAj [SMTP:kidaj@theglobe.com]
To: dmd@geneseo.edu
Cc: dbow17@hotmail.com

Subject: enerX
Sent: 10/26/00 1:56 AM Importance: Normal

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the badman

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hhhhhhhhhhh
hhhhhhh hhhhhhh
hhhhhhh hhhhhhhh
hhhhhhh hhhhhhh
hhhhhhh hhhhhhh
hhhhhhhh hhhhhhh
hhhhhhh hhhhhhh
hhhhhhh hhhhhhhh
hhhhhhh hhhhhhhh thank you music. i love you.

it is now 1.40.
i'm sorry.
i'm still stoned, but now i have fritos.
they are amazing.
I'VE JUST GOTTA GET A MESSAGE TO YOU
wow.
THE BEST FUCKING SONG EVER. it's called "I'VE JUST GOTTA GET A MESSAGE TO YOU" by moxy fruvos. listen. download, and listen. simply. amazing.
i love you guys.
my my powerpuff guys.

thanks for being.........extcuse me. fritos break. i will hold down the . key until i'm done.............................................................................................................................................
...............................................................................................................................
..............typingwithonefingre.................................sogoodowijustbitnmytonge.............
............................................................................stilleatingsogood.............................
...........................................................................bboooogiieeeeenihgtsissogoog...........
..............................................................................ohmy god u cxgh ,,,, ui'm still esting, butim typeing eith my irihtgh hsnd perfic.
yeah so i thought so. soorry,bppbiehghghghghghghg boobieweener

i'm back.
that was good.
i just got an idea.
i wanted to share.
half baked. it's basically jim brewers and that black dude's high storys from high school. they're just telling us theres. then why! aren't OURS funny to other people. like even the ones you guys are having with your friensd at college. not just us to them. HEHAHAHAH PINK FLOYD I WISH I HAD THAT ALBUM.
so there we go....
why does that movie work then?
hmmmmmmmmmmmmm?!?!!!!

mroe fritos

i am a smooth criminal.

7:01

All For the Maple Leafs

2000-10-25T02:49:00.000-04:00

[The stage is set up to look like a resturant. Nothing special. There is a couple, center stage, enjoying a meal. A waiter is walking from table to table, but no one is seat at the other tables. The lights are dim, but they come up onto the table, center stage.]

DAN

I had a really fun time.

BETH

Yeah...me too. The movie was great. I love Woody Allen.

DAN

I was surprised that you had never seen Annie Hall before...
(under his breath)
freak.

BETH

(thrown off)
I-I-I’m sorry?

DAN

(smiles)
Nothing, nothing. So did you like the movie?

BETH

...yes. I thought it was one of his best.

DAN

(under his breath)
Well...duuuuhhh.
(a loud)
So how’s the salad?

BETH

Oh it’s great. I love this dressing.

DAN

Ya know Beth, I really really like you. I think you’re great. And you’re really really foxy.

BETH

(trys to laugh playfully at “foxy” but ends up snorting)
-Thanks.

DAN

So what are you doing next weekend?
(quickly brushes his left hand across his nose)

BETH

Well, I have to go to Boston on Friday, but I’ll be back in town Saturday evening. As of right now, I’m not doing anything -but I might pick up a guy in Boston.

(laughs which quickly fades into a giggle and then a sigh)

So...

DAN

So...

BETH

So how did you like the movie?

DAN

-Look Beth, I’m just going to come right out and say this. Just so it’s right out there, out there, out there, on the table, in the open, there in front of us, on the table, the table...I’m a junky. Yup that’s right. A junky. A crackhead, a smacknoser, a tracker, a snortsnuffer -whatever. In fact, I love coke. I love it so much, it always comes inbetween me and my potential girlfriends. Granted, I’m just always on the rebound, because I monthly break up with my whore bitch of a girlfriend -Deborah. And she knows, it’s always crack -then her.

[BETH just sits there. With her mouth open.]

DAN (cont’d)

Always. Crank, girl. Never girl Crank. Well in the winter it’s The Maple Leafs, crank, girl -no wait, crank, maple leafs, then girl. YES!

BETH

Are you nuts.

DAN

Nope, just a cranker faced coke junky. Now, with that out of the way -it makes this a lot easier...I need 250 dollars. Are you good for it?

BETH

Excuse me!?

DAN

It’s only 250 dollars. I’ve been up for 4 days and durning the movie I started to come down. I need the money. But don’t expect it back. I’m never good at that whole paying people back thing. -In fact, I never do.

[BETH begins to get up.]

DAN (cont’d)

No, stay a while. We can talk about something else, not my cake habbit -I mean crack. CAKE!

BETH

I’m sorry Dan, I’ve got to get going. Thanks for dinner.

DAN

No, stay a while. Come on baby. FOXY!

Purchase File (#10)

2000-10-18T12:51:00.000-04:00

Aaron Joy
10.18.00

PETE

Anyway

MIKE

I was looking for sites on....dammit

PETE

Maybe you were looking for Jimmy Ray —ARE YOU JIMMY RAY?!

MIKE

Incredible…without you... Jimmy Ray would have been lost from my memory forever. I don't know if I can forgive you for that one

PETE

Sorry man

MIKE

…Meghan staring holes through our heads -you you you- were gonna ask her to the snowball…sophomore year. I asked her about the possibility of it in Gym class

PETE

Fucked that one up didn't I? Whoo hoo!

MIKE

She said "maybe, but I might be going with someone already"

PETE

That was who again?

MIKE

Hey, she was a big deal back then... oh...oddly, John Taggert

PETE

That’s what I thought. I went alone....sorta....Dave was my date, we left early, rented apocalypse now and then went to bed. It sucked —the night, not the movie

MIKE

Wondrous. What if? You know? Just... what if?

PETE

She wouldn't be a bitch right now, I’ll tell you that much

Purchase File (#8)

2000-10-11T14:32:00.000-04:00

Aaron Joy
10.11.00

TIM

In my younger years, I took a fancy to drawing and designing cars. Up in my room, I could create the most amazing dreams for myself. Somewhere between my brain, my hand, my pencil and my notepad, there was magic. All of the impossible was possible to me. I used to listen to the radio while lying on my bed, dreaming dreams of fast cars and loud guitars. I listen to those songs these days, and it takes me back. Right there, to eighth grade. Sitting in my room, the real world a million miles away as I stared into the depths of my imagination.

AARON

A simple hello would work. Cos then, when I get something as profound as that, I have nothing to say back, but.... hello.

TIM

I’m sorry about that.

AARON

But that was good…when'd you think that up.

TIM

Well, thank you... twenty seconds ago.

AARON

Nice. I’m mad busy. I need to finish this paper in 20 minutes so I can't really talk.

TIM

I'm actually about to toss it on an away message and head to the laundry room, then the shitter... I understand.

AARON

Well then.

TIM

Good luck.

[believe it or not, i went to college for a few days]

CREKTRE2

2000-10-10T18:28:00.000-04:00

“Old Creek Road”

It was just another party, at just another abandoned house out in the middle of no where. The house had been used one hundred times before, for the same reason, a safe haven for under aged drinkers who just wanted to get plastered. Tyler, a seventeen year old neo-hippy lush, a rage against society type complete with birkenstocks and a hemp lecklace, walked quitely around the back of the house with his girlfriend, Marla. She was a typical 16 year old. She was at the top of her game, in love with the latest fad, a slave to the Top 40 radio air play. The complete opposite of Tyler, and that’s why they worked. He had tried many times before to intoduce her to the world of “non-commercial” radio and “indi-rock” or “college music” as Tyler called it. But it was no use, Marla was who she was and not even her boyfriend could change that.
They walked hand in hand around the back of the house. They spoke not a word. They seemd to be intranced by the totality of the house and the condition it was in. The back of the house had completely fallen off, they could see their friends inside doing keg stands. The upstairs windows in the back were nothing but square holes with curtains hung from the inside. Every now and again, a curtain would catch a hold of a draft and flutter outside, unnoticed.

"Justin"

There must be some unwritten law that no matter what party you go to, or no matter where you are with a lot of socialy diverse people, Dave Matthews must provide the soundtrack. Tonite, of course, was no exception.
As I sit here, years after the events took place, I’m trying like hell to remember all that was said, and all that happened, for I was, well, I was three sheets to the wind. And now that I look back on what I thought was just another nite in the life of a 17 year old, I realize that, shit, this is a story, and it needs to be told.
It was just another party, with the same old people and the same old beer, and the same old music. All the usualls were there. The Abercrombie’s were making there presents known while the “Who-invited-them”s slipped in and out of conversations unnoticed. The overly macho bingers were there (but in a way, we all were) with there funnels in tow. The frosh girls were there (all three of them) with a swarm of testosterone drenched hormone charged guys suffacating them. Somewhere in that group were two of my best friends. We were the “Uncatagorizibles” the ones who were diplomats to all groups. The ones who had friends all over the board. It’s not like everyone wasn’t friends with everyone but we had something different—something no one else had. Granted, this year was different. The love between everyone was amazing. I think it was prolly because we were all seniors and we all secretly knew that this was the last time all of us would be together. Once June rolled around, we all would go our separate ways not to be heard from again till the 10 year reunion. Of course some of us would stay together, some of us would end up together by fates wanting. But either way, things would never be the same after Graduation Day.
The nite started out ordinarly enough, I of course had to work until 10 and Dex wasn’t getting out until 10:30. That means we wouldn’t grace the party with our persants until at least 11. No biggie, that’s just the time things would be getting started. Alex and Brian were heading out right at 9. Damn fools. They’d be waiting for two hours anyway. Of course, I know I would have much rather waited at the party then work my ass off.
Dex and I showed up at the party at 11:17 (I checked my watch)

I think it was around 2 in the morning when I felt it was time for me to get my sixith beer of the night. By that time, Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds had repeated themselves 4 times and Lover Lay Down was now leting everyone know that, yes indeed it was on the album. I think it was a sign that that perticualr song was on. Maybe I had timed it perfectly almost 5 hours ago, when I decided that acustic Dave was the best choice for the evening. I think my choice was fuled by the mood of the night. Everyone was very I don’t know, mellow.

convo 8

2000-09-11T09:33:00.000-04:00

Aaron Joy
09.11.00
#3

[On the bus to White Planes]

GIRL #1

I couldn’t believe it.

GIRL #2

Oh I know! After she told me what happened, I was like, what!

GIRL #1

He’s such an asshole

GIRL #2

I don’t even know why she’s still with him.

GIRL #1

She said she was in love, or something. I was like, come on you ain’t in love, there’s no way.

GIRL #2

But he’s such an asshole to her.

GIRL #1

I was over Laura’s house on Friday and Brandon called her. It wasn’t no more then 2 minutes, she was crying.

GIRL #2

Wait, Brandon called her?

GIRL #1

Yeah on Friday-

GIRL #2

What the hell was Brandon callin’ her for?

convo 3

2000-08-30T03:34:00.000-04:00

PETE

(on the phone with his mother)

Yeah, it’s really cool in here...we got pretty lucky...yeah-i don’t know...well like, we like just left the windows open...just tossin’ ‘em against the window...no...yeah, no...yeah it’s good new furniture...they’re like, comfortable, it’s like inside but it’s like, it’s like...yeah...really?...oh...yeah...um...the 1st was alright basically it’s gonna be...yeah...no papers to write, i was like, YES!

So Long Never-Never Land

2000-08-23T23:32:00.000-04:00

[this one got me in trouble.]

From : "A J"
To : plapass@hotmail.com, rebamail@yahoo.com, klm_34@yahoo.com, leezzardo@hotmail.com, dbow17@hotmail.com, aux_buss@yahoo.com, dyingjade4@aol.com, lillithann7@yahoo.com, lilqtee579@chickmail.com, newgirl00@hotmail.com, roxywave20@aol.com, 180gurl@snowboarding.com, agold03@hotmail.com, hwaiiansun@aol.com, discerned@hotmail.com, mono14@usa.net, squeakywheel@coolmail.net, squeakywheel32@yahoo.com, varsina@aol.com, credi21@1033edge.com, colgate14@excite.com, wscutt@hotmail.com, woody733@hotmail.com
CC : terri2000@hotmail.com, stephenvalle@yahoo.com, Rhino1979@hotmail.com, kkegs2000@hotmail.com, Jslim01@hotmail.com
Subject : so long never-never land...
Date : Wed, 23 Aug 2000 08:32:52 0100

in 10th grade, some of us where fortunate enough to have mr. starkweather as a
teacher. he was one of those guys that you couldn't help but love. sweet, kind
hearted, wouldn't hurt a fly. he was a grandfather to everyone who sat in his
classroom. a man like that, you'd believe that he was perfect -not one thing
wrong with the guy. well, there was one thing.
he kinda smelled.
but it was fitting. i'm not saying it was good. just that, it was fitting. with
he little pot belly poking through his shirt. the bottom buttons hanging on for
dear life. i always remembered invisioning one of those buttons popping off and
hitting me in the forehead. and i sat in the back row. i pittied the poor
bastards who sat up front.
mr. starkweather would walk the isles between our not so even rows, "coming
around to see how we made out." as he walked by, just as with every other human,
a smell cloud followed him. you know what i'm talking about. when someone you
liked would walk by you in class, you'd induldge in their after aroma as long as
the moment held on. but when some like, say....george warren walked by, you held
your breath.
anyway, starkweather would walk by, and if you weren't ready for it, his smell
would hit you like a dump truck. so, as the year progressed, david long and i
would talk and joke about his smell, and how it would just hit you. i can no
longer remember whether it was he or i who came up with the horrible pun, but it
was birthed between the two of us. when something hits you hard, it hits you
like a starkweather. not a dumptruck.

it's 2.56am
in 5 hours i have to get up at dismantle my computer which i'm sitting at right
now, and pack it into my van. it's the final thing i have to do before i leave.
SUNY Purchase of the Performing Arts! WHOO!!HOO!! as pete metzler refers to it,
Poorchoice. get it? cos i still don't.
anyway tonite, i just wanted to reflect upon, and i felt that my email address
book audience would be the best place to do it. you see, i don't have to be
there when i tell you this, i don't have to listen to you laugh at me, or i
don't even have to watch you hit the delete button. you guys are the best
audience i've ever had.

for those of you who remember, i used to send out riddles way back in the day.
when we were in high school. when college, it was so close, yet it wasn't
happening to us yet.
i wrote a riddle/newsletter after i got home from our senior banquit. something
i wrote made a couple of people cry. i can't remember who, nor can i recall what
i wrote. i bitched and moaned about what little time we have left. 4 months! til
graduation! oh my god! 1 month! 10 days! HOLY SHIT IT'S HERE! what now?
we still had the summer.
what now? i'll tell you what now.

now we say goodbye. we cry. we laugh. we hug and shake hands. we cry. we cry. we
cry. we cry. and we cry.
tonite i went to sport o's with josh, dave long, david damico and dustin. becky
rider was there, and so was nicole....sitting next to me, not saying a word was
wendy. i bought her a bagle or "bogel" as josh hates...

after a suck ass "dinner" we all stood around outside, in the freezing cold. it
must've been about 60 outside, but none the less, cold.
we all just kinda looked at each other. not sure of what to say or what to do.
we're new at this. we all are. for the past two months of summer we've be
wondering around in our thunderclouds of ignorance, not facing what was going to
happen.
and here it is, standing there, outside with us, shivering along with us as
well.

this isn't the end.
this is only the beginning.
what we just went through, high school, middle school, grade school...it's all
the prologe, the overused often skipped and forgoten intro to every hip hop cd
you've ever bought...
tomorrow really is the first day, of the rest of my life.

this feeling, i don't think it's really hit me yet. going to college, starting
my life.
growing up.

growing up.

where's never-never land when you need it?

it's been real guys,
so long....

aaron joy.

ph07

2000-05-25T03:46:00.000-04:00

[working in yearbook bought the oppourtunity to see every photo taken that year. that would amount to a lot of unused, and unmissed photos. i would like to thank rachel chase for not knowing i have this photo.]

There's a Fingernail Stuck on the Wall

2000-04-30T20:40:00.000-04:00

so there i was, sitting on the shiter with nothing to read except an archie
comic when i got a brainstorm. actually it was more like a vision. me and you,
in the year 2005, driving across county in your truck, which will still work,
and going into some major movie studio trying to sell our screenplay to the
FatMan behind the desk in a $500 suit, smoking a cig. and the best part is i
saw it working. i saw us, walking out of the studio with dumbfounded looks on
our, by that time, pretty, taned mugs...thinking, what now?

lets see, hrms......undercover eehh? you're going in, moving on down and across the hall? can i ask you something...why. what are you going to accomplish over there? if you think
you can make some of those kids your next project you're nuts. they're so
stuck in what they thought they needed to become that not even God Himself
could tell them other wise. and i don't think it would really matter anyway,
because they are who they are and-*blech*
fuck it. i had nothing left. my brain dried up.
well, i wish you luck over there. i've been there, i am there...i'm the silent
partener...it can be fun, it can be fun...but soon you look around and realize
that stading in a warehouse full of mannequins and talking about politics is
more fun.

i have a purple pen.

for some reason-
fuck tim! YOU HAVE TO GO TO PROM WITH KATIE. why
not.....please i'm beggin you. saturday i'm going to ask wendy, or maybe i'll
get spunky and ask her tomorrow during school. *idea* what if i gave stacy a
note to read during anouncements at the end of the day that said something all
sweet and i stood outside of zynda's class (or where ever she is 4th block)
and -damn, i'd get laid. by EVERY GIRL IN THE SCHOOL!!!!!

-AAWWW SHIT! I FORGOT OUR SENIOR BIO THING WAS DUE TODAY!!!! FUCK ME!!!!

well, on that note, i better go....

don't be surprised if i ask you if i can borrow your comments tomorrow

\aaron

____________________________________________
CoolMail(tm). Hear. There. Everywhere.(sm)
E-mail by phone - http://www.planetarymotion.com

ph01

2000-04-25T03:20:00.000-04:00

@ the House of Blues, Myrtle Beach.
i have nothing witty to say. the picture is stupid enough.

ph012

2000-04-19T01:11:00.000-04:00

[pirate land]
[pirate's keg]

ph08

2000-04-17T03:38:00.000-04:00

[more self amusing phots taken with the Polaroid Joy Cam while on spring break @ pirate land in the year 2000]

YtimK

2000-03-02T21:53:00.000-05:00

I know you Aaron, you're just like me,
you do things because it's the right thing to do,
not because it's the proper thing to do
Like lying to me, thank you for being a good enough friend
to lie to me so I would feel better.
I appreciate that.
*****
Why Aaron,
Why?
So I’m just sitting here wondering what I should do.
I’ll figure it out, don’t worry.
I’ll do the right thing,
Maybe not the proper thing,
but the right thing.
And, I’ve got this new set of notes, for her.
The start of a new letter, another little artwork
timebomb.
but hell, I don’t know,
I think I’m going to write Dave Matthews a letter,
asking him for some guidence
he’s Dave, he’ll know what to do.
*****
And, get this, for a minute, I actually thought that i
was in the health office because of a broken heart
and i almost asked the nurse if she had anything for
that. But then I almost threw up on Ashley Hale and I
decided to drive home.
I almost got carsick on the way home too, AND I WAS
DRIVING, AARON!!!
Oh, I just met Bo, he is a moron.
And look at this!
Some omish guy with a scottish accent is planning on
ruining the wedding! Could this get better?
I'll see you later.
*****

/tim

regarding the rez.. ..

2000-02-13T20:52:00.000-05:00

From: Timothy Wigton
To: geekUSA2@coolmail.net
Subject: regarding the rez...
Sent: Sun, 13 Feb 2000 08:52:50 -0800 (PST)

WHAZZZAAAHHHH!!!!!!!!!!?

Hey big buddy, how are ya? I'm fine but a bit tired.
Okay, the rez is definitly a cool place...little heavy
on the wallet, but a good getaway. JR was kind enough
to pick us up at my house and we drove off save a
quick stop at sugarcreek on 33. There we were greeted
by two derelics who had nothing better to do than
stare at us while we pranced around the store picking
up gum and candy and juice and all. JR didn't like
that so he went back in after filling up with gas and
told these two fagits that he wanted to give them both
a big kiss. He walked out and to his delight Tom had
jumped into the drivers seat and, it seemed, was all
ready to drive off for a quick insult-escape routine.
Cept he forgot one thing, Tom's an asshole.

He had locked the door and proceeded to drive off
around the gas station leaving JR to handle these two
dudes who were up on something like PCP. When Tom
pulled around again I tried to hop out of the car
figuring that even though my deadly right is
momentarily on the DL, I'd show the muscle and the
smaller guys would back down.

Well, I neglected to compensate for the 1/4 inch
thick, sheer solid ice that was covering the pavement.

Let me tell you, it is really hard to scare someone
after you've just taken the spill of your life infront
of them. Either way, JR hopped into the car and we
drove off to the Rez. Nice place, we were the only
Batavia kids when we got there, but luckily, my friend
Stacie (from Hilton) was there with some friends and
we passed the time humping them til our girls came.

Um...who showed? Rachael Lutey, Jenn Yantz, Stacie
Stack, Maria Katriliotis, Jenn Wether, and Kelly
Patterson, they came with the ride bitches, (ogeen,
holman, dewitt) and the only other real guys there
were Steve Hardy and Travis.

Wether was trashed, she puked, JB took her home.

I got up in "the cage" with her. and after she kissed
me she told me how "cranked" she was...
then I inquired about the ski bus nudity,
her reply was...
"i'm REALLY cranked"
so she kissed me again

i think she meant tanked.

Let me tell you something though brotha, something I
said to marques last night while I was dancing with
Jenn (wether),

"Look at that ass....
it's wonderful."

there, that was my wise quote for the day.

Other than that, um, let me see. Oh yeah, Yantz was
gettin all up on me and shit and she grabbed my
package, no, massaged my package, which was friggin'
huge at the time, and she got this look on her face
like she'd struck gold.

Well, she has.

/tim

There is no time like the present to procrastinate.....

2000-02-10T17:57:00.000-05:00

From: squeakywheel@coolmail.net
To: geekUSA2@coolmail.net
Subject: There is no time like the present to procrastinate...
Sent: Thu, Feb 10 2000 17:57:14 -0500

So...the dude's home in bed today and he can't even send me a message? I see.
Anyway, you'd better be in school tomorrow, you missed some good shit today.

Both Marques and Anna are alive and happy. Marques, because he's finnaly
broke with anna, and Anna, because she can now say that she's finnaly back and
officially together with Marques.
Naturally an argument resulted in this matter, and just as naturally, the
weaker character was beaten...congradulations anna, your reluctant boyfriend
has returned.

Ugh, I hate Jenna. She's such a...a...a...well, i don't know what she
is...but i don't like it. But regardless, if she asks about me, tell her I'm
still thinking of her in THAT way...i'd like to still be thought of as the
regretful partner.

Anyway, here's the story...marques comes into advisement today, and he's
like..."hey you have to come with me" so I follow. and he takes me to the
computer lab, where SHE is sitting all alone. and he's like "LOOK AT THOSE
PANTS, I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!"

and I agreed so I figured instead of doing the normal thing and just sighing
and walking away as she left and went down the stairs, I walk over and i'm
like, "hey, you still want to get some flowers when me, aaron and marques buy
them right?" and as she continued to walk down the stairs she's telling me
"yeah,...if you want, i don't care"

WELL, SWEETS, I DON'T CARE EITHER...was my general feeling...

oh you're on now...so i'll send this and talk...

Re: eric clapton, don murdoch and how not to get caught in a mind trap

2000-02-02T15:28:00.000-05:00

From: Timothy Wigton
To: geekusa2@coolmail.net
Subject: Re: eric clapton, don murdoch and how not to get caught in a mind trap
Sent: Wed, 2 Feb 2000 13:28:10 -0800 (PST)

Aaron, i usually try not to reply to emails..it's just
too easy to take someones unique email that they spent
long and hard writing to you and just press the reply
key and say something like:

" oh i think so too...lol!!:)"

i hate that, but i have to 'reply', because this is
one of the best mails i've ever gotten (definitly one
of your top five) and i want to respond to every
little piece...

in response to radiohead...very insightful, very. I
wonder what else thom york thinks of while driving his
lexus to the store...?

yes, i agree...wendy scutt is the goofiest girl i have
ever met...and somewhere within that too-tall clumbsy
female with the dorky face we have both found
something we didn't even know we were looking
for...she is the best...i'm glad i met her, marques is
the man, i know so many people solely because of him,
it's unbelievable.

oh yeah...i just read the next part of the
mail...dont' thank me...thank marques.
so...yes, patience is a virtue...thank wendy for the
idea about saving the liquor
"Drinking with the girls (boys in our case) is like
fingering yourself (jerking off in our case)"
So how about we put the two lonely groups together and
we can drink and masturbate eachother til we puke...
sound good?...I thought so.

thank you immensly for the dave tape, it's stellar.
wow! good word. and if you get me oasis, i'll have
some serious shits to take out of my pants!

Yeah, well God has a plan for everyone...or maybe He
doesn't. But who are we to argue with His oppinion?
I don't know exactly where i'm headed after this
life...but i'm sure as shit that i'm gonna push my
luck as little as possible.

You are a wise man, aaron...i'll tell you. and, you
probably know more about relationships than i do.
Correction: we've been broke up for six months.
Correction: i don't necissarily want to get back
together with her. we just need to mutually
understand some things...
you see, aaron...as alike as we are, we are very
different. I can not live with walls or boundries in
my life as you can.
Boundries? you ask.? yes, boundries. between you and
sarah, between you and whoever. boundries are
something i live to break...my own and other peoples.
i can't have any kind of boundry between me and
someone i shared nearly all i had with...
or else...
or else she will haunt me forever... and every
relationship I have from now on will be overshadowed
by the question of what may have become with her.
you dont' see her the way i do aaron...and i'm just
trying to show you my world for a few seconds
i'm not doing such a good job...but i'm trying.

and you have to believe me...these questions about
noel have nothing to do with jenna in specific...
but ALL girls. in yearbook yesterday, i couldn't have
givin a fuck about noel...if I cared about her
more...i'd have the will power to avoid situations
like that.

I've never had a school year as free as this one,
aaron. I've never had so many friends. and to toss
all of that away to having a steady girlfriend doesn't
even make me feel bad....
it makes me laugh.

I don't want Noel to be my gilrfriend, not now.
I don't want Jenna to be my girlfriend...not now.
I need to have this time. I need to break these
boundries...help me help myself, aaron, anna, marques,
noel, jenna, by understanding what i say.

eric clapton, don murdoch and how not to get caught in a mind trap

2000-02-01T00:09:00.000-05:00

tonight. tooooonight. tonight at the game. i couldn't get over how goofy wendy scutt! is. but at the same time i couldn't get over how much i was attracted to her. to think, i would've never met these girls if it wasn't for you. i need to give you a long over do THANK YOU.

it's after midnite (the clapton reference) and i'm tired as hell, but i promised you an electronic mail. so here it is.
what you said on IM the other night really twerked me. but, like i knew i would, i got over it. but i think it was just the realization that HELL YES WE'VE GOT LIQUIOR AND IT'S ALL OURS....LET DRINK IT. but for some reason, you were right. (fucking movie!) like tyler said to the narrator, i will drag you, kicking and screaming, and in the end you will thank me...or something like that.anyway, this weekend we shale begin our quest for gold! mantazuma gold or whatever the fuck that shit is. the rez(oo) hehehehe, see what i did there, i put in the oo like zoo....sounds promising. we should bring katie and wendy and the garbage too, (we are the garbage men) and do sum bumpin and grindin wit 'em. but NO TEQUILLA FOR KELLY AND LIZ, THEY NEED TO GET THEIR OWN...unless of course, head is in the deal. mmmmmm, head........ah! kelly giving it....stdennis...not for me thank you. but wait! six degress...jason, kelly, my penis....seems fitting.

come to the race!

i hope marq's in school tomorrow. why the fuck is everyone dying...? loren's grandpa, then my grandpa, then anna's grandpa, now marq's aunt, and now loren's grandmother is dying. lord, what'd we do wrong? my mom started yelling at Him today. it was crazy.

*breaths*

whoa.
what did i just write. 10 minutes has passed.

i had a point in there somewhere, but it got lost right around the time i said "come to the race..."

TIME FOR AARON J'S, PRO RELATIONSHIP ADVICE GIVER, TO, GIVE UH, WELL... ADVICE.

hello. and welcome to aaron j's relationship corner. today, we will be
learning how not to get caught in a mind trap, by studying the case of 'tim' and 'jenna'. some quick back round on this one....then went out, they broke up. simple enough. now, aparently this, tim, we'll call him tim, he's asked to remain annyomus...he wants her back. interesting. i do belive it's about 18 months after their break up. so i've gotta ask 'tim' if he's out there...tim, why now? but more importantly, why? what i've come to learn in life is that, getting back together is NEVER good. i'll tell you why. 1.) if you never get back with her, you can live the rest of your life wondering if she really would've resulting in misery. 2.) if you do, and she breaks it off again, you will live the rest of your life in misery. 3.) you get back together, stay together, for a time, but eventually break up, and then and only then your realize all the time you just wasted and all the other girls you passed by with something that didn't work out the first time through. you live in misery the rest of your life. 4.) you get back together, you get married, you have kids...but you're miserable for the rest of your life, because you've been dating your wife of 20 years, give or take a decade, since your junior year of high school.
look, bottom line is, we are too young to take any relationship as serious as we sometime do. there are a million fish in the sea, and even more girls on the earth. you can not become attached to the first girl you fall in love with, or even the first girl you date. i did both. i pictured myself 30 years down the line with everyone of my girlfriends. and now look at me. i hate half of them. our time here is running out, and we can't spend it whinning over a girl we lost a long time ago. enjoy what we have now, the past is gone. the girls change like the weather, wait 10 minutes...you're at a mall, you can go into any store you want for as long as you want, when you want. but if you just drive to a store, you're there, stuck there without an option of what to do. sure you can leave at any time, but it's one hell of a drive back home.

my name is aaron, and these are just my opinions.
i hope they help 'tim' and who ever else is reading this tonight.

goodnite, and godbless.

5 a.m.

2000-01-29T22:22:00.000-05:00

From: Timothy Wigton
To: geekUSA2@coolmail.net
Subject: 5 a.m.
Sent: Sat, 29 Jan 2000 22:14:04 -0800 (PST)

The first time I got drunk was a Friday. I walked to
a dance with you and Dave D'Amico and Matt Podalak and
Todd and I drank a Hooch w/ Marissa Dickenson and
three shots of vodka out of your shot glass, aaron. I
was buzzin high up at the dance and i made out with
Maria Katriliotis, Jenn Carver, and Jenn Tomazuski.

The next night was my first camping trip.
I drank five beers and made out w/ erin something from
ND, becky Varland and Lisa LaFornara.

Cold sores, anyone?

The next morning I changed the sparkplugs in the Jeep
w/ my father.

Yes, Aaron, the girls were uglier, the beers were
fewer, and life was simpler. We forgot how to party.

Do you even remember when we used to think Josh and
dave were stupid for drinking?

Goodnight.

ph02

1999-12-16T20:22:00.000-05:00

[drunk]

Sinbad

1998-09-01T14:21:00.000-04:00

"it is hard to begin"
-stephen king-

last night was not only one of the best most fucked up nights of the summer, but it also was the most scariest night of my life.
it all started when dave said to me, 'hey! what'cha doin' tonite?' . dave told me that josh's brother bought him a bottle of wine for no reason. so we figured that we would get together and have some wine. i know it sounds funny. but then todd masters called us up and said-'hey i'm getting some liquids so guess what, we are getting drunk!' awesome right? wrong. todd got something called special brew from a guy at work and it was like snapple only with 6.0% alcohol in it. i had berry flavor and it was good. we all went up to the old jackson bridge by my house. the jackson bridge is really an old deterating HALF a bridge. so when we got up there i chugged the special brew so i got drunk quick. anyway since i have no tolerance i was the only one really drunk. i went spinning off to the end of the bridge and i crashed into the chain-link fence. i fell and layed there for like 15 minutes slowly feeling the effects of the alcohol taking effect. finally we went down off the bridge and i guess dave long was invited to this party at this house on liberty street-the person who lived there, she worked with dave at wendy's-(which is two streets over from my street). oh-here is the list of people that were with us--me, dave long, dave d'amico, todd, josh, and tom (all campin' vets)so dave long told me and dave d'amico and tom to stay outside and he told dave and tom to keep and eye on me. because when you're drunk, you have no scence of time (actually when i'm drunk) i thought the dave and todd and josh were in the house like for hours so i started to get antzy. then tom left and went inside and soon, dave d'amico went in too and left me alone. so, i stumbled across the street and made my way onto the porch and dave told me that when he saw me coming he was fighting his way out just to keep me out of the house, but it was too late, i was in. there were only to people in the house: dave's fellow employee who we will call white trash, and her husband, this puerto rican guy nicknamed-sinbad. sinbad was drunk and i guess when he gets drunk and pissed off, he gets really violent. (f.y.i. on the way there, josh and i were making designs in the street when we were pissin' and walkin' at the same time-which is not a good idea, cos it gets all over you :o) so anyway, he asked me if i wanted a beer. so, of course i said, sure! so me and josh and dave and everyone else went into his kitchen and he gave me a 16 oz. red dog, and he handed everyone more beer. sinbad likes to cook, and he had cooked some ribs and macironie salad, he offered everyone some. anyway, i was just standing off in the back, thinking; this is wrong, this is all wrong. the next thing i know, sinbad is yelling at me. "Hey! You in the back. You look like Bruce Lee! Are you Bruce Lee?" then he started in with, oh, i wanna fight you-ya know this and that-come on defend your title-all that shit. i really wasn't diggin' it a whole bunch. anyway dave d'amico, todd and tom go off into the living room to watch south park and this is when the fun begins. sinbad starts back in with 'hey bruce come on and fight. i wanna fight you in the back yard. so he opened up his back door and grabed me and started to drag me out of his house into God knows where. i looked at dave like; HELP ME HERE HE'S GOING TO KILL ME. acording to dave and josh, sinbad was never going to do a thing-yeah, whatever-i was never more scared in my life! i needed to get the fuck out of there quick. so i stumbled out of the house and sat down in the street. i guess, white trash and sinbad didn't go for that too much, so, sinbad comes out and said, 'hey, what'cha doing out here!' i was trying to make sence of all this but it wasn't happening. sinbad picked me up and tried to put me in a head lock. but i squrmed my way out of it. he said, "come here, i'll give you something to lay down about." dave, dave, todd, tom and josh were holding him back, while i started to walk away, very fast. soon after, the guys came runnin' up to me, hey bruce! they were screamin' bruuuuuuce! they all thought it was just the funnest thing that they had ever seen. well, i didn't think so. anyway, the next thing we did was kinda' stupid. we all decided to walk to this 24 resturant called Sport of Kings (we call it sport o's). now, sport o's is way out at the end of town, and, well, we were at the total opposite side of town. it must be a three or four mile walk to the end of town, and, well, we walked it. but the cool thing was, i was totally oblivous to the fact that we were walking five miles. so on the way there, josh was watching over me, and i was pissin' him off. so every time i did something stupid, he punched me in the arm and the next morning i had huge black and blue marks on my arm. anyway, on the way there, every telephone pole or sign that we walked by, i would yell at it. 'get yer ass home, it's too late for you to be out!' i did that for about 15 minutes till josh punched me. about half way there, because his 'feet were hurting', josh decided that it would be a good idea to take off his shoes. so, he did. once at sport o's, i went around back with dave d'amico because he needed to find out what time he working that day (because, duh, he works there and because by this time it was one o'clock monday morning), so i waited out side. out back, it is really scummy but that didn't stop me from laying down. dave came out and draged me around front. the six of us didn't really fit into a booth so, josh went off and talked with this indian guy. everyone ordered something, but me, cos i was broke. dave ordered a bagel, and i took half of it, which he didn't find funny-but for some reason, i did. i was still hungry, so i took two of those little jelly packs and ate the jelly with a spoon. everyone was getting pissed, so i was like, "fine, i'll just kill myself." "good," dave said. so, i picked up a knife and started to cut my wrist. well, i tried to anyway. "no one's gonna stop me?" i said. dave's response: "no, because you're trying to kill yourself......with a butter knife!" that didn't work. so i just put my head down and fell asleep. now this is the really weird part. after i put my head down, the next thing i remember was laying on josh's living room floor at like 5 in the morning. i thought, maybe i passed out. but dave said i walked home, but i never said a word the whole way home.

.and that's all i have to say about that.

aaron.

EGGTHING

1998-01-26T17:22:00.000-05:00

Aaron Joy
Per.3

1.26.98

Tuesday January 13th:

10:21am— I get to see my baby for the first time. He kinda’ looks like an egg.
11:03am— I’ve got a name for him: Mr. Bill.
11:40am— Mr. Bill and are about to go to lunch when he tells me he wants to say with Mr. Zynda for the rest of the day and learn how to speak Spanish.
3:05pm— I pick up Mr. Bill from Mr. Zynda. He can speak Spanish better than I can.
4:34pm— Mr. B. sits and watches me write this.
7:32pm— I put Mr. B down to sleep (in the frig, he likes it next to the other eggs).
‘Round
Midnight— Mr. Bill won’t stop crying. I’m starting to like this parenting thing already.

Wednesday January 14th:

7:18am— Mr. B. looks so peaceful just sleeping there. So I deiced not to wake him. I guess I’ll see him when I get home.
10:10pm— Mr. Bill and my two cats—Dusty and Tiger—had a good time playing Clue all day. But now I’m home from a ski team race and Mr. B’s already sleeping.

Thursday January 15th:

10:15pm— Today was pretty uneventful. This morning Mr. Bill cried all morning. So I gave him some Corn Flakes. He helped me get my ski stuff in the car. He carried out my pass. On the way to school he was singing. What, I don’t know? Something about Mr. Hanky The Christmas Poo. Well, let me tell you, I put a stop to that quickly. At school he was quiet all day, except at lunch when he yelled, ‘Food Fight’. Mr. Bill, what am I gonna do with you? Tonight at ski team practice he stayed in the race room, nice and warm, while I froze my butt off outside. Oh well, I’m home now and Bill’s sleeping next to me. He’s a cutie, but I still think he looks like an egg.

Friday January 16th:

4:23pm— Today at school, Billy decided that it would be funny to light my homework for Mr. Kennedy on fire in the bathroom. I just don’t know what’s gotten into him. All day he kept saying, “Fire! Fire! Fire!” then laughing like and idiot. I think he’s gettin’ these idea’s from TV. I’ve got to find out what he’s watching.
4:45pm— That’s it, I’m losing it with him. I just had to douse Dusty’s tail out. Bill lit it on fire. He climbed up onto the counter top and got into the box of matches we keep in the kitchen cabinet (for lighting candles) and he snuck up on poor Dusty and lit his tail on fire. Tiger thought it was soooooo funny. Well now he’s fighting with Dusty.
11:58pm— How could they do this? After getting home from seeing Titanic for the second time, I was just about to go upstairs when I heard this horrible smack. I ran into the kitchen and what do I see? Well, I’ll tell you. I see Dusty and Tiger running away and I see Mr. Bill lying on the floor, smashed, and dead. Oh no, I’m crying again. Those damn cats!

Saturday January 17th:

10:03am— Thank God for Moms.
10:20am— She’s a doll(get it), I love her. My new baby’s sooo cute. I will name her Beanie. She’s so well behaved too. So far......
2:30pm— I’m at Swain now and I’ve got to get up to the start house so I don’t miss my start. My Mom’ll watch her till I get back.
3:11pm— I’m back. Baby’s fine. A little cold.
10:30pm— On the way home, Beanie got snippy with me. She’s turning into Mr. Bill. I’m getting a little scared here.

Sunday January 18th:

11:45am— Well, Beanie thought it would be funny to delete all of my health articles I had been working on. I can’t figure out what’s gotten into her.
1:59pm— I think I know. I caught Beanie watching South Park. That is not television for a two day old baby. I heard her swearing like one of the kids on South Park. Then she started to sing that Mr. Hanky song. Just like Bill did. That’s it. No TV for her at all!
5:30pm— Beanie and Dusty & Tiger are now downstairs with my brother Michael playing Poker. Beanie’s ten bucks in the hole. Ha. Ha. Ha. This will be a good lesson in money management.
5:40pm— I just went down stairs to check on Beanie and she is now 35 dollars richer. And Michael owes her 20 bucks.

Monday January 19th:

9:31am— We ate breakfast and washed up together. She’s acting really good all of a sudden. I think she’s got something up her sleeve. I better be on my toes today.
5:52pm— Nothin’ happened today, we just kinda sat around and watched movies all day. I let her watch Twister. She loved it. Then we watched The Empire Strikes Back. Did you know that those Star Wars movies are really long?
7:20pm— Ruined. They’re all ruined. Beanie though all my old Rolling Stones’ were dirty. So she decided to wash them. She filled up the bathtub and threw all of them in. Oh, she saved the one with Brad Pitt on the cover. Gee, thanks. I can’t handle this anymore. I feel like I’m gonna blow a gasket here. Beanie’s driving me right up the wall. Thank God she’s not real and this story is just a figment of my overly active imagination, cos if it wasn’t, I don’t know what I would do.

ph04: At least there were Cheez-its.

1997-08-07T07:10:00.000-04:00

fun camping. morning. van. smile? no. not yet buddy...

Letters to Sam: Vol. I

1995-07-06T20:24:00.000-04:00

JULY 5 1995

DEAR SAM,
I GOT YOUR LETTER. I LIKED IT A LOT. I KNOW YOU DON’T HAVE ANY FRINDS YET, BUT DON’T WORRY YOU DEFINITELY WILL. I MEAN I STILL DON’T HAVE ANY IN MY NEIGHBORHOOD, BUT I HAVE THEM OTHER PLACES INCLUDING YOU OF COURSE! I READ THAT YOU WANTED ME TO WRITE BACK AND I DID. I WANTED TO KNOW IF WE COULD BE PENPALS SO AFTER EVERY LETTER WE DONT HAVE TO SAY: “PLEASE WRITE BACK.” MY BROTHER HAS BEEN BABYSITING ME SENSE THE BEGINING OF SUMMER VACATION. TO TELL YOU THE TRUTH IT’S NOT FUN AT ALL!!! I’M GOING TO BASKETBALL DAYCAMP ON FRIDAYS (WELL IT’S KIND OF DAY CAMP). I’M ALSO GOING TO THE PARK TODAY.
YOUR FRIEND,
MICHAEL JOY
P.S. MY FORTH OF JULY WAS AWESOME HOW ABOUT YOURS? (IN NEXT LETTER)

ph00

1990-05-07T18:06:00.000-04:00

[the framing of this photo, you may have noticed... is damn good]