money    2002-06-01 05:28:01 ET
money...the destroyer of ideals...why is it that every cultural shift we have enjoyed since the dawn of the teenagers as an independant source of thought (i think this happened some time around the 1910s to 1920s, after the industrial revolution) has suffered or been defeated due to the use of money...think about it, the beat generation, ha they were toppled with proffesorships and publishing hand outs, brought into the fold and calmed down...what about the greasers, they were all mostly teen age rebels due to lack of cash, it was kind of an economically assumed position at the time...and they chased money like everyone else from there generation, hop skip to the hippys, fuck that they got some shit done...then they turned into these good earth health food coporations and ben and jerrys and blah blah blah...but much respect...you'll never see a two hundred thousand punks rally together under the washington monunment....then came punks, then came major label deals, then the loss of them, do you all get my point, why is it that we as whatever we are, let are ideals get pushed aside to make money...


oh yeah and just cuz you listen to rancid doesn't make you punk it just means you haven't found operation ivy yet
4 comments

     2002-05-29 08:13:38 ET
the devils in the details....must find the devil...the devils in the details...

when my father almost had an anuerism (can't spell it) it was affecting the part of his brain that controlled speach, and he couldn't talk correctly at all all his words were abstracts for what he really meant...my name was no longer peter to him it was "nitro"...*LOL*...pretty fun really...it was basically impossible to understand what he meant...he didn't have the anuerism but a partial blot clot formed and was fought down by medication he is now 97 percent of his old self he still blips crazy once in a while...

but the real quextion remains why did i become nitro....

can you imagine laying in a bed with a blood pressure almost of the charts a splitting migraine and not having the ability to talk...he said he was saying it right in his mind but it was coming out wrong from his mouth...weird huh...
4 comments

     2002-05-29 07:57:35 ET
i took the same test sis did but my results were different...

DisorderRating
Paranoid:High
Schizoid:High
Schizotypal:High
Antisocial:High
Borderline:Low
Histrionic:Moderate
Narcissistic:High
Avoidant:Low
Dependent:Moderate
Obsessive-Compulsive:Moderate

-- Click Here To Take The Test --


2 comments

 shrooms    2002-05-26 12:15:52 ET
on friday i did shrooms, and watched army of darknesss,






don't ever do that its a horrible idea *L* i believe my brain is permanetly scarred now...
6 comments

 a story from the road...    2002-05-21 13:38:24 ET
i am not such an interesting person anymore, i mostly sit around and do my art and writing thing, and try and find ways of getting published, besides that i work 43 hours a week to pay my bills, and then i general act just like everyone else....

but i used to be more interesting, i used to travel all the time, and i mean that in the punk sense, me and a friend named athrite used to up and live for weeks and months at a time, just jump onto a bus or if he had a car (he had an amazing ability to have a car one day and not the next), one night we we're in a town called bloomington indiana, really close to indy we had just started a road trip to some where, we decided to crash out in a park, it was warm and they had park benches and had done it a thousand times (theres an art to sleeping on a park bench, one that can only be learned not taught) so some time in the night this guy wakes up athrite (he slept deep i slept light i was already awake) and tells us we'd get arrested if we slept in the park but he knows a place where all the punks sleep at, said words like commune and shit, he also asked if that was are car and if we could give him a ride (car was easily identified as ours, it was covered in rust and stickers) the guy looked like he should have been riding listening to pink floyd somewhere but he was dirty like us so we trusted him.

so we give him the ride, it ends up being some warehouse behind a Big Red Liquior store, strange, but there's a couple of other cars parked outside and he leads the way, its now 1 am and all the lights are out, it had some sort of deck on it that was falling apart and an RV parked next to it, he just walked in the door was unlocked (good sign) and we followed, he imedately went into through some door, stopped and point to the ware house storage like area and told us to go ahead and crash out and then shut the door and we could hear him lock it ( it seemed very strange to me at the time, but i was only 17 what did i know, athrite acted all normal and stuff there were old couchs everywhere, though half of them where stacked ontop of each other (strange), but we going stomped around till we find the two closest to the door empty ones (survival more important than all the light from the parking lot shining through)...so athrite takes the couch facing mine and we proceed to sleep the safety way...sitting up but slouched back, and with sunglasses on...( if you know why we did this good for you if not your about to find out )...

i should mention now that i was wearing a misfits shirt, a clean one at that...infact the only clean shirt in my pack, the last clean shirt, a holy relic when on the road, obiviously i was trying to get laid that night or something...who knows...not important...so i'm sitting laying there sleeping when all of the sudden my spidey sense goes crazy and i notice there is some big smelly thing standing in front of athrite ( i had a row of spikes mounted on washers on my leather jacket right at the end of the sleeve and i was wearing the jacket, a great weapon, i grabbed the bottom of the sleeve in my hand till the spikes and washers were right on top of my knuckles), the guy looks over athrite but doesn't act like he's going to do anything to him, then turns and does the same to me, but then he starts looking realy intently at my shirt and saying shirt under his breathe like "fucking kid, where'd you get that shirt the mall, stupid fucking kid, i should kick your ass"

now i know he thinks i'm asleep and i know he's just talking to himself because its all under his breathe...but he keeps going on...and i know if i move he will freak on me, the whole air of the place stinks with this guys crazy....he keeps standing over me for i don't know how long and then a bunch of people come out of the door where the guy who brought us came from...they seem afraid of this guy and i can hear them say shit like "man leave him alone, he's sleeping" (what the fuck was this guy going to do)... and "so what he's young you were young once..." and basically trying to calm this guy down...then he just flips the fuck out and start yelling and screaming at them and telling them i'm a narc, and starts punching walls and shit and storms out of the place....they freak out and LOCK this guy out...what the shit was up...oh well i'll never know,

when they all went to sleep i woke athrite up we snuck out and spray painted "you smell funny" on the side of there building, so goes life on the road...next story will be about getting stabbed in louisville
11 comments

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