Monday, December 17, 2007

Watching a movie

When I watch a movie I really enjoy, in the theatres or at home, I always end up sitting there while the credits roll. I get pretty caught up in a good movie, and I need some time to ease back into the everyday world. Walking out into the bright lights and crowd in such a state gives me a feeling of wariness, and unease, so I would rather wait it out a bit.

I once had a film teacher tell me that she sits and watches all the credits of a movie she enjoyed in order to show appreciation for the hundreds of people it takes to make a movie. Although there is no logic to her statement I do see where she is coming from. I even tried to do this for a while, letting my eye pass over every name, from the 'man with umbrella' to the assistant to the caterer. Generally this ends up with me noticing 'funny sounding' names more than anything else. (Maxwell Wang, for example)

No, it's not to appreciate the gaffers and location scouts that I sit there, it really is that I need some time to reestablish myself in the waking world. I tend to get absorbed in a good movie. Take the new Cohen brothers movie, it's no spoiler to say that it ends suddenly, and a little bit disorientingly, location and storytelling wise.

Yet when I mention my surprise at seeing people leave a movie at the first note of the closing credits theme my pals express dismay with me. Mark going as far as to call me an "asshole". "I need some time to think about it" I say, "no good idea ever comes when not walking" Mark more or less responds... (I don't point out that he is firmly planted in seat at the moment). "I can't multitask" I continue, jokingly, Mark, of course, is always multitasking, and I'm sure my comment only furthers his belief that he is friends with an idiot.

Furthermore I might add that my feeling probably comes about from a sense of isolation that the theatrical experience brings out in me. It is true, I must admit, that I see most movies alone, but even when I was in the closest relationship I've ever been in, sitting on my girlfriend of 3 years's couch, watching something good, I would feel myself lifted off of the couch, and into the televison, separated from her, from the room itself. The isolation needs time to deestablish itself, time that I take while the credits roll.

I don't talk during a good movie, I certainly don't talk to myself. When with friends clowning a bad movie, cracking wise or pontificating on subtext is a different thing, more akin to analyzing any old thing, a jerk in our party or a fool on the bus. I'll do it, but doing so wholly changes the viewing experience.

It's not that I need time to think about it, it's that I need time to buffer myself for a less illuminated world, for more possibility and less sound effects. I daydream a lot when I'm not in the company of others, and an engrossing movie is like being strapped into a such a daydream, the edges lose focus and my pupils dilate. Eyes moisten a bit more easily and emotions get dragged to and fro by story and sound. Only when that black screen appears and the closing theme plays does it relent, and it seems to me that relishing that transition is a necessary thing. Perhaps this speaks to a simpler mind, certainly to one tipped to the emotional side of thinking.

This is also the reason I hate sitting near people in a movie theatre, they all too aften make noises and movements that break the spell. I would say that a good mindless comedy is fun to watch with a crowd, in a similar way that cheering in the stands of a sports arena works. Of course watching a funny movie also makes you notice what people find to be laugh worthy, and then rating their poor sense of humor against your own. This is one of the reasons I loved watching Stella or Mr.Show with Peru and Mark, and not with some other friends. It's nice to feel some kind of common sensibility in a group experience.

Still, most of those assholes making a break for the door weren't really watching, were they? They were probably paying attention to where there boyfriend's hand was, or what jokes she was laughing at, and looking forward to the payoff at the end that often suprises me, but of course, I'm always alone.


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

I should add that thinking of this reminded me how nice it was to start making out with my girlfriend during a crappy movie, passionate love conquers a 40 million dollar budget and months of focus group testing, amen.

Wednesday, December 12, 2007

Romantically inclined aka. the ingrown fingernail annoyance.

I have this really sore finger right now, my right hand pointer, the nail is kina ingrown and the cuticle on that side is kinda peeling off so all in all it's made typing slightly more annoying than it should be. "Now, I told you that story to tell you this one." -Bill Cosby.

I recall as a kid that I never really had any ambition at all, when faced with the question "what would you like to be when you grow up?" I never had a real answer. My go-to response was to mention that everyone saying they wanted to be a doctor or lawyer were fooling themselves, that they just were thinking of the money and there was no way that that many kids could become doctors and lawyers anyway. I guessed those who said hockey player or actress were doing the same kind of thing as the doctors but had less domineering parents.

I do remember seeing homeless people and thinking that it was possible to end up like them, not that I would, but just that it was as possible as any of the other careers out there. I recall the weird old guy with a huge red growth on his nose who walked around my neighborhood all the time, he was creepy, but I did like his style. I never was into construction or firetrucks. I liked the "magic truck" that was stone and sat over a garage entrance on ndg avenue. My dad used to tell me that the magic truck came alive at night and drove around the neighborhood.

I wanted to be a magician for a while, and I learned a bunch of card tricks, around this time I started liking video games too, they were just as wonderful but the feeling was much more easy to implement. Imagine I had followed the magicians route, not the magician of my childhood imaginings, but the real whiskey stained tuxedo magician, the second rate standup comic with a deck of cards magician, the working at the local wal-mart magician? I aint built to excel at any one thing, neither are 95+% of you.

I think the best kind of magician is the grandfather magician. I liked David Blaine for a minute, and respect the fact that he does what he does. I recognize the thrill of the unexplained, and I once paid a guy 2 bucks to show me how to do a vanishing cigarette trick at copa cabana (he was hustling for cabfare by breaking the magicians code, kudos). I think that a good mysterious piece of art is magical. A still life is an illusion. Sculpture is crafty. Performance art is third rate stand-up comedy.

I'd like to cast a spell on a worthy dame someday. More and more I see myself amazing children with through hitherto unknown facts, baking soda and vinegar volcanos and rubber pencils gripped between index fingers and thumbs.

Sometimes I'm amazed that I crawl out of bed. I live in a world of wonders where absentmindedness and superficial interpersonal relationships keep me off the ball. I can talk about nothing with noone for a good 15-20 minutes before my tank starts to run out. When I do talk from the gut I start to sweat, it rarely happens, most often when I'm alone and don't have to put a finger on it.

Slight of hand depends on two things, misderection and the ability to be misdirected, one you have to practice, the other is assumed.

Drawing for emmanuelle's kid


[insert image]

I got tore up at work today

nothing more unimpressive than a boss riding you and your co-workers when you've already quit and just haven't told him yet. Such a nice feeling.

Friday, November 30, 2007

Gladiator set:

107450 honor
50 AB marks
50 AV marks
50 EOTS marks
30 WSG marks
.

3 yellow
3 red
1 meta gem slot

.

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Hello again

At you all is good?

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

When you talk that way, my friends

Openly, knowing someone cares to see it, you mention suicide, it makes me afraid for you. I am there for you, like a brother would be. I really hope it works out for the best, but she'll be gone again, and she is young, just remember that. I don't know what to say, try and play it off with a joke, but I am serious, and afraid you mean it, and might convince yourself one day. There will be awful days, and you are very convincing... shit is ill. You need to get out more, and be forced into that thing you will find

You have a daughter, and she is like a second chance, but you're like me, doomed to repeat the same things over and over, digging well past the topsoil, clawing against stones. I hear you wish for strength, but you are one of the strongest that I know, without trying. It's the trying that screws it all up. Just do it naturally. There's no need to go so far away, I tried that, it didn't work

You're so busy that you can't even reply, your job, your girlfriend, whatever it is that you are doing, and you can't even tell me... It is so easy to write an agenda, a journal, a play by play... I saw you at the art store with her, and couldn't approach you for a reason I couldn't explain, I thought you would understand, I was like the butcher boy, I thought you said you loved that movie, I thought you would take the time to ask me why, how, how I could be afraid to approach you, but I guess you thought it was weird, I guess high school was a long time ago, I guess we all need to move on... I'm sorry I kept contacting you, eliciting an eventual reply, in passing, it was worse than not hearing from you at all...

I miss what I lost so long ago

Dear Natalya, I fear all is not good, I am done with disappointment, I am tired of rejection. I am far too simple a man for this. I am like a wind up robot, who's springs and cogs are soiled. The coat of paint is peeling off of the aluminum, it glows dully in the sun. My fingers leaden. I have run myself out, others have run me out. I am manic-depressive, mute and coated in veils of cheery platitude. There is little hope for me. I see people in the street and wonder how they do it, I am sick of being empty. I am full of sugar water, styrofoam and modeling glue. My veins feel like empty balloons, my heart stings from time to time, I don't sleep well but am tired all the time. I run on caffeine and distraction. Empty gratification. I don't want to joke around anymore, I don't believe you, I don't trust you... I don't trust anyone much, I let them let me down. I sometimes try but give up so easily. I am the butt of my own jokes, I stradle a dead horse, the whip is loose in my hand and slipping. I would rather feel this way, apparently... I keep having dreams of failure and not measuring up, I can't really drink anymore, I thought I could clean myself, I'm thick with parasites, I cling to filth, detritus, abandon... all is not well
Goodbye, M.

Hello again ! I miss!!!

I with impatience wait the message from you,
I hope, that at you all is good!

good day at work

I got a thin pilot gold paintmarker when I went to get a mechanical pencil from the supply area... would have been nicer to get a silver one, I know, but still...

property is theft

be it of the body, mind or soul.

I hate how I need.
Among other things, I do enjoy music, I remember the two months I spent without a walkman. Songs kept playing through my mind, I was singing out loud.

Anne-Sophie said I had a nice singing voice, as far as I know she died, couldn't kick the heroin. I remember how tightly I held her that night, like I could heal her, like I didn't just want to have sex. But I did, want to heal, and feel close to. We smoked hash and drank wine in an abandoned shelter off the beaten path. We played cards and the tree in the quadrangle was loaded with birds.

Overweight and alone, I watch rabbits in the park.

They are just animals, there was something magic to them before.

I've been staring off into space at work, and making small talk. I wish I was dancing in a really dark room to some crazy bass electronic music. Repetitive beats, walking out at sunrise, sweat freezing to my arm. It's -19 degrees in the morning now.

I wrote a poem for a zine to do drawings with, I need to perform, I'm drawing myself, a semblance.

November:
I fall asleep
I'm in a clearing
I'm on a cliff
I'm disappearing.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Children_of_Lir

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lough_Derravaragh

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/County_Westmeath

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

Ideas about it me beforehand raise


Subject: Excuse me. (sent less than 12 hours after my email)


Hi my honey Magnus! I am very glad to news from you. Magnus, yesterday
I could not send you the letter because I had no opportunity to enter
into the Internet. I don't have computer at home. Sometimes I use a
computer of my girlfriend, but often I use Internet cafe. I am very
grateful my girlfriend, that she allows me to correspond with you. But
yesterday she was absent at home. I hope, what you Magnus did not lose
me. I missed without yours e-mail. Today on work I thought of you and,
it was pleasant for me to know, that there is a person, which which
thinks about to me, reads my ideas and writes something for me. And
how you Magnus You these days missed on dialogue with me? Today we
with friends plan to have some entertainment. It will be possible it
is club or a disco. It is a pity, that now not there are opportunities
to invite you there because you it is far. I think, that we with you
could carry out perfectly together evening. I hope, that we shall make
still it in the future and we can well have fun. I am sure, that it
will be good time for us Magnus! We shall drink easy wine, then to
dance, while our legs can maintain it. And after that we probably
shall reach somewhere else....., and where I shall make with you some
things. Ideas about it me beforehand raise. My imagination very much
advanced and I can represent for myself many details of ours
appointments. Probably, dear, it is time to me to finish this letter,
and I now shall write that a lot of superfluous and I shall have then
confusion before you. I wait for yours e-mail, my lovely. Hug and my
kiss!!!

Yours Natalya.


PS. My girfriend Olga & I



******

At this point I'm considering several options including:
1) Telling her that Magnus is actually Maggie, but that her feelings are the same.
2) Rejecting her in favor of Olga.
3) Writing a letter that is total gibberish with the exception with a 'dear natalya' at the start and a 'love, Magnus' at the end

Monday, November 19, 2007

let your words be the q-tip


Subject: Tender Mistress:
Dear aka.Natalya, You have asked the question I dared not to ask.. do I have a woman in my life? Let me answer your question this way: "Mary, mother of jesus". Mary is in my life and I ask her for guidance often, I have forsaken jebus because of his poor grammar, and backwards views on gun control and the gays right to assembly, but I still hold my lighter in the air for Mary Mag... Other than my spiritual lady friend I have no lover in my life, no beautiful angel with wings of fetid complacency as your golden showering beauty shines adequate lighting to read such passionate words upon my nested doll heart cavity. Indeed you are the filling in that cavity. These few weeks, days, we have spoken in email with each other have been so enjoyable I can't quite keep down my supper, I am tempted to spill my guts to you, on you, with you! Why does she ask me about if I have a woman, is what I ask, and the answer is uncertain as the sound of a tree falling in the woods with no one within hearing distance. Could it be true, does Natalya want to take this relationship to "the next level" and send me nude pictures? I don't know what to say, your offer of naked pictures is appealing but I am also afraid that you take me for a one night hot dog stand, a simple gigolo... that is not true... I am looking for a girl with true intentions, who can appreciate my nancy kerrigan earring collection and love of the art work of Michael Godard? What I am trying to say, in my shy and awkward sprained ankle kind of way is: Do you have a man? Could that man be me? Magnus the magician, who will pick a card any card and it will always be the 2 of hearts if you are the assistant on my stage show called: 'our life together on paradise island'.
Natalya, do not keep me waiting, I must hear more about you and your wonderful worldview, your tender words are like ambrosia to my inner ear cavity, sweet waxy ambrosia, let your words be the q-tip that brings that to light. I love to hear from you and will better once I get all the damn ambrosia out of my ears... I swear, it must be the humidity, there's like a cubic pound of wax in these babies. To quote micheal diamond, "I want to butter that muffin, serve it on a platter with thanksgiving stuffing, stuffing"...
To you and yours, good health, my dear Natalya, I must run, pressing matters at the agency keep me from writing more, I think of you before I sleep, kisses, Magnie
reading that last post it feels like it was written by someone else almost, i feel better now, but each morning I seem to wake in that mood, and today I didn't shake it til almost 6... I must be pms'ing...
another day another depressing post. I have had distressing dreams the last week. Filled with irrational anxious thoughts, recreations of past events with a new negative twist, inhumane exchanges with friends... I wake up and cannot shake the feelings. In my dreams I feel like a 14 year old kid again, feeling ostracized by my own inabilities, ineffectuality, these dreams sit on my chest and freeze me in place, I wake up and lay there in the same position for a half hour, or until my alarm goes off. When I am awoken by the alarm I set it off and return to my sleeping position, I'm getting into work late these days, just by 5-10 minutes, but it used to be that I was always early. I fell in love with my ex-girlfriend again in these dreams, she has reached out to me recently because her father passed away, I take things the wrong way. I feel guilt over my friends happiness. I feel regret for actions performed a lifetime ago. I'm too sick to filter it out, my eyes look like dead things. I seek comfort in repetitious and artificial soundtracks. And that's just this last week... it's been a bad one.

I can't help but believe that this has something to do with a sense of resignation that hums like background noise behind me, resignation to how life is going to feel. I can read a thousand words and only certain are recalled. My memory is going, I'm not enjoying this at all. There's something like a pallor that it feels like has settled over my face.

I do feel happy sometimes, but those moments are so overexagerated and exceptional, they make the other moments feel even more tedious...

who am I to complain, really, I am in a nice place and all... and I don't like to give in, but maybe I have... I wish I didn't place so much importance on my relationships with others, I thought I could shake it, move out here, alone, work as a mailman, draw... none of that is coming true... I miss the attention you can only get from someone who loves you, I miss sleeping next to someone else, and chatting over breakfast and dinner. My aunt is so sweet, very nice of her to have me, but she doesn't hear me when I speak and I don't listen to her stories anymore, it's not that I don't try to, but they dissapear into the sound of the tv... It's a game to pick out a few words and try and respond when prompted to by some pause in her cadence, a turn of her head, I must sound like an idiot sometimes...

I listen to one song over and over again...

It feels a bit nice to get this off my chest, I can't help but fear that someone will be reading it, but at the same time I wish someone would, someone had a sentence to reply that put things in perspective, but I need a novel, I always need more, I feel like I had it all and left it, which I know isn't true, but the irrationality of my dreams is bleeding into the days... I wish I had a pet who would dote on me for food, something warm. I need a lover like I need a pet, I speak with strangers downtown and my voice falters...

There's no more jokes to tell, the ones I do are tired and old, they come off my lips so easily

I can't help but think that the weather is part of this, it's so desolate around here, at least as I see it. My door is off the hinges, I cant close it properly, the rug on my floor is bunching up... I play video games like a zombie, I keep waiting for a thrill, missing the opportunities... My room is a mess, my clothes are in a pile, there's barely room for my chair to back up before I bump into my bed...

I get messages from people on the computer, they mean little, I can't look at what I've drawn, I threw away a book, I blacked out hands from drawings like a censor...
I keep listening to the same songs, repetitive artifice, there's a bell hanging in my room, I can't bear to hear it ring, I avoid that side of the room now...

I feel a bit better now, some relief, but feelings are out of my hands.. I can't complain all the time to feel better, I can't bear it, who could?

Saturday, November 17, 2007

She the skilled woman.


Hi my dear Magnus! I'm reading your letter and iI find it rather
intetresting to learn your oppinion in your last mail. We exchange our
oppinions in the letters and I think I learn you better.

I write to you from the Internet of cafe, it is convenient, but
unfortunately is not cheap for me. I do not have own computer,
therefore I am compelled to write to you from this populous and noisy
place!

Magnus, I am sending you my new picture. I informed you about my work
earlier. You know I work in a children's hospital. Usually I work with
children. It is more work in therapy, than in surgery. I work with the
therapist together. She the skilled woman. She already works for a
long time. I very much respect her. She helps me in all. I measure
temperature basically, I write out some recipes. Some days I should
remain at night on work to watch children in an accident ward. It
really very intense days for me. But when I have a free time I spend
free time by reading novels. I am very romantic. I like to dream. I
hope you like my picture. I would be very glad to see your new
pictures. I would like to to know how you spend your free time. I like
to make life interesting for me and for my friends, so I like
different types of entertainment. I like to dance, go to the cinema,
different parties and of course I adore to spend time on the air
communicating with nature. But now I more and more think of a romantic
evening with a man. Do you like evenings with your family/friends? I
love very much to spend holidays with my girlfriends and when we
gather together at the table. How do you like to spend your holidays?
Tell me please about it, I am very curious! I would like to ask you a
very personal question, I hope you won't be angry with me. :) Do you
have any woman now?

Please write me more about yourself: your feelings and desires. I am
ready to read it. Wait for your messages. My hugs. Your Natalya.




**** she sent this exact email two days later, complete with the same pictures, I do admire her tenacity

Thursday, November 15, 2007

some hot cat on car crash action


Dearest Natalya,
I am confused, you ask of me more letters, but your picture you cover your lips as if to say "silence"... is there some silence between us that confusing you? I am very pleased to see more and more of you, maybe one day I will carve your likeness from soapstone and leave it in a forest of a thousand mosquito birds, each singing a song prettier than the last.

I fear there has been some bad news today, my cat, Janie, has gone missing. I let her out two nights ago and she has not returned, I fear that an antelope has perhaps stolen her away for dinner. But maybe I am wrong and she will return with a missing ear or lopey gait from some hot cat on car crash action... I don't know what to think...

Natalya, you are like a mystery box wrapped in surprise paper, I wonder what could make you happy? I would like to photocopy those thoughts a hundred times and send them back to you in realization of great passionate reproduction.
I received the nested dolls that I ordered through the i-net and they are exactly what I was told they would be. If only life were as predictable as a 4 star e-bay auctioneer.

Tell me more about yourself, ask me more questions, I want to see deeper inside of you like an x-ray would, or an MRI... let your email be that magnetic resonance image of your soul, and your beautiful skins, I am enraptured.

More is greater than less, wouldn't you agree?

I hope to see your pretty face again, it is the highpoint of my long days in the swamp aka. office, you have very lovely blue eyes, like a steel heron in japanese watercolour paintings.

Adieu my fair, your Magnus, whom you can call Magnie

hate work

New trick: I can use the program we write up bugs in to write text that I then copy/paste over to notepad when I have a minute and no one is looking.

The whole structure of the quality assurance department here at bioware is unconvincing and when it exhibits itself in more than the undercurrents of distrust and weariness and instead appears irrevocably to me the feeling of disgust that runs over me is both intolerable and freeing. In this case my boss, who you might note is a month younger than me, commenting about how if we make money than they make money and everyone is making money and some other horseshit he spouts randomly. In a vastly diluted sense the experience of working in an unsatisfying environment parallels the prisoner's experience. In the sense of what a prisoner
might feel when their loss of freedom dawns on them. With a crappy job though there is just enough time off, the evenings and weekends, that serve to reset the 'dawning on' you feeling, so that you may freely experience it over and over. Maybe by actualizing the experience in writing about it I might somewhat dismiss it's effects. At least I haven't given in to resignation, about my work at least. There are the bonds of economics for example, I must eat therefore I must work.
Not that there isn't any number of other things I could be doing to provide that 'food', most of those jobs are likely worse than this one. I guess I'm the sort of person who... let's face it, in a million ways I am a lazy bastard. I'm not kidding myself. I do, however, know a few other things about myself, and would like to find a job that at least satisfies those two or three things...

I was thinking that the only thing that I've ever done which I have no doubt about, that I would stake my reputation on under god, is my faser loopy one-line tag.

that is the pinnacle of my life so far, and everytime I get one off properly I feel bliss...

So, to summarize, I need to get paid for occasionally doing my tag

It's high the time to go to do some affairs


Hi Magnus. It is very pleasant that you studied my ideas in the last
message. Magnus, I usually don't tell anybody about my deep ideas and
thoughts, but I wrote about it to you, because I believe you and eager
to open myself to you. I consider myself to be rather independent
woman but probably sometimes I wish there was a man who I can trust.
Now I should say that I am so glad that I has found you. Because you
understand me and I understand you. :-)

Thank you my dear Magnus, that you have written to me some information
about your life, I studied it closely. It helps me to understand you
and your life more. I should confess that you became closer to me.

Magnus It's high the time to go to do some affairs.Have a good day. I
wait for your letters. Your Natalya.



******

I have to confess that this is getting a little boring, seems to me that my Slavic scampignon's responses are cut and pasted.

Note: I hadn't really looked I just realised that aka.Natalya is wearing no pants in this latest photo. Maybe I'll get to see a boob or two out of this whole thing.
Also, this looks more like a screen capture from a web cam than anything else.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

the romantic sound of the nearby quarry


Dearest Natsha, My heart skips a beat when I see your goldenized face in the sunlight, you are in the darkness? Let my shine a flamethrower on your forehead, burning away the tears with the heat of passionate exchanges. I am reminded of my favorite song: "Midnight at the Oasis" by Maria Muldaur... when she says "Let's slip off to a sand dune real soon and kick up a little dust... I'll be your belly dancer, prancer, and you can be my sheik". Yes my harem is a little small, but there is only room for one, which by process of elimination would be you, sweet Natalya, you make my toothache, my belly twist and turn into a noose. When you say you are mine I picture baby diapers and ziplock bags, maybe some lovemaking under a starry ceiling with glow in the dark star stickers on it and the romantic sound of the nearby quarry. I want to touch you on the inside.
I am sorry, I have offended you perhaps? I cannot help my passions, for you seem quietly beautiful, I am afraid that I suffer what Shopenhauer envisioned as the 'will to life', I wanna make the babies soon, see my future son and daughter become productive labourers for society. I am a simple man, with complex carbon-based atomic structure. I am like any man in that way, but I am different because I have you as a friend Natalya. I want to know more about you, what did you study? What city do you live in? What is your favorite fruit and/or vegetable?
Oh Natalya, it is too painful to think of you, who only shows me such small glimpses in photographs. Would you send me pictures of you undressed, standing in that sunlight? I would picture you dressed in the elaborate fashion of the 1890's, and would bedazzle you with pearl necklaces, and ornate silk scarves. I would wrap you in my arms and would be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, "Free at last, free at last. Thank God Almighty, we are free at last."
But no, the thought of your breasts rising and falling with your breath as you stare into the darkness, the imperceptible hairs on your skin, risen by the shivers, the way your hands have grown old by your pained experience... I am truly sorry you have been hurt, I hope you are like me now, one who would never hurt again...

Dear Natalya, I grow close to weeping, I must retire to my antechamber, bestill your soft heart. Magnus.

write me your ideas of life

I really thought my last email had gone too far, no way she would reply, she/he would clearly realise I was " 'aving a laugh". But NO! I have woven a spell and she is bound by it, my little russian minx...





Hi Magnus. I am glad to receive again your message, every day we begin
to learn each other better and it is very interesting for me. I love
your letters and every time wait for them. They help me to forget
about cruel world, they like a sun ray in the dark realm.

Magnie, I send you other pictures of me. I hope, you will like it.
Tell to me more about youself and aboyt your family. Do you have many
relatives or not? How often do you gather together ?I'm the only
child. As for my private life I can't say that I'm happy. My last
relation with man was the last year. I left him. Now I think we did
not love each other and had various interests. Among all the man who I
know I cannot chose anybody for serious relations. Nowdays there are
less and less decent man, so it's rather difficult to find one.You see
I had to address to i-net. This is my last hope to find a fair man
with whom I can keep up the time. Probably here I can find the person
who will love, appreciate and understand me. It is not important for
me his financial situation and work. I'm interested in a man who is
older than me, who has a great life and love experience, who knows how
to appreciate women. In my turn I will be ready to give all my love,
tender and care to such a person. I think that the main advantage of
the woman is to be fidel and have skill to make family happy, without
quarrels and conflicts. Ok, my letter comes to its end and I have to
go. Mine favourite Magnus, write me your ideas of life. I wait for
your messages. Your Natalya.

PS.I do not think that canadian dollar strong, but I think that the
American dollar - weak!

PPS.By the way that you want to buy on the Internet? And how many
nested dolls you have?

wine whiskey and song


oh no, now that I type it out I recall that it is actually wine, women and song, ah well

the wine: Dona Paula Los Cardos, chilean malbec, 2006
the women: highwood rye whiskey
the song: my new playlist thingy


I had to make accounts in 3 new sites to make it happen, but yeah, it is what it is. enjoy!

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

curiouser and curiouser



Dear Natalya, I am a busy man, between my 2 jobs and my pets my life is zoo. So I'm terribly sorry it has taken me so absolutely long to reply. Still I dream of you at night, in your lovely aquatic marine dancing uniform and overwhelming make up, on face. I am no make out artist, or pick up romeo, I prefer to cook a meal in the oven than in the microwave. I prefer candied apples to pop-corn, movies on a big screen, or the back seat of my car. My favorite colour is beige, I eat fish for breakfast and I live in a house far too big for one person. I wish to make some babies on an island of cotton candy and have each one to be bigger than the last. My favorite song is "Doncha" by the pussy cat dolls, second favorite is the Rite of Spring by Stravinsky. Tell me about you, are you also enjoying a bath of jello? I yearn for your foreign touch, the smell of your hair, do you groom yourself? I have a collection of Matryoshka dolls, and wish to peel back your layers like the onion where we met, online. I see your profile is gone... are they trying to keep us apart? I am shocked and pained to think of days without our conversation. My voice is gone, since my operation, and I sound horrid, so we must speak in words. My darling, I await your next lovingly crafted reply. Now I must go and return some bottles to the recycling plant, of my heart. What do you think of the strong canadian dollar? It inspires me, I wish to purchase items from the internet and sell them in my store at a slight mark-up. I only have work in my life, and now, maybe you, dear Natalya. Send me pictures of yourself, for I need to put a face to your name and print them on my custom lithographic machinery. 'til next we speak, yours truly, Magnie.

Monday, November 12, 2007

appritiate good relations



Hi Magnus! I am pleased to receive your message. I regret concerning
death of your wife, I know as it happens hardly when very close person
perishes!

Our birthdays in one day! It is surprising! It is possible to
celebrate together:-)

Magnus ,I wait for your e-mails impatiently, it means that I'm
curious about your life and really very intetrested in our relations.

I think, that you have read my profile and could have seen there, that
it is very important to me to get acquainted with a good person for
serious relations. For this reason I will try to tell you a little
about my character. I don't know what to start with, ok,I think, that
I am a very romantic person. I like to communicate with other people,
I have a sence of humourIt is very important nowdays in our cruel
world. I appreciate in people such qualities as fidelity,kindness and
honesty of course . I believe in love, and I think it very valuable
thing which needs to be protected.I am not very jealous person. I
adore,to say people compliments and I'm always ready to listen to them
from other people. For me it is necessary, to keep everything in
order. I also like to cook various tasty things. It is worth while
mentioning that I appritiate good relations between man and woman. I
think that women are more romantic and they dream to find person to
have with him serious relations. But very often their dreams are
broken, because idealise everything. And many man brake women's heart
taking the joy of life forever. As for me, I had a bad experience in
my life with a man. When we sepsrated I lost the intention to live.
Now I wish to find a person to whom I can share my happiness and
problems.Now it's only a dream, but I want it to become true very
much. I think, that for women the main thing is to live a family life
not but not to build a career . Tell me please, what is a woman of
your dream? Sorry tha I bother you by my question, but I'm very
curious about you. I impatiently wait for your next e-mail. Sincerely
yours Natalya.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

I must tend to my bonzai

So I waited a bit,I now present my 1st reply to the apple of my pie:


Very honoured Natalya so nicely to hear from your message.
Here are some details regarding myself. I am 30 years old, guess what? my birthday am the same as yours! ! On 17 October!!, how to amazing that one is! ! ! It is certainly a beautiful day! I was married in the past, but my wife, who died in a train accident, by traveling by the United States. It occured 6 years ago now, and I have placed it behind me. My cat, is baptized Janie, by the name of her. It was a difficult time, but the inheritance permitted me to travel in the world and to learn many new things. I have to drive pleasure ski, and play badminton, my preferred card game is Cribbage, you me will often find to play Cribbage at the old people house where I volunteer on weekends. I think you look very pretty in your dancing dress, do you like to do foxtrot or the manhattan? I learned many of these old dance from a class I took in Carcassone, France, years ago. I would love to hear about your dancing and see more pictures. I am more of a salt tooth than a sweet tooth, I enjoy eating fine meats and brandies. Where did you get such a lovely name as Natalya? My wine cellar is huge. I hope you are well, I must tend to my bonzai, your friend, Magnus.

Thursday, November 8, 2007

saw a fox

I saw a fox on my way home from work, I have to admit I was just the slightest bit jealous. It darted past me as I took my short cut. I'm sure no one posts on it's blog either... what a lovely coat, and me in this ratty old thing

It was headed to the school yard. When I walk to work in the mornings I see a group of about 4-5 kids smoking on the path I take, the late bloomers I guess... Once one of them almost spat on me, cause I move pretty quietly and he wasn't looking. Another time someone had spat onto a thin layer of sand on the sidewalk, the sand got pushed up on the edges and looked like an elk's head in relief.

Saw a video about the underground vogue scene in new york and the lady they were interviewing said she used to hang out with kids who would roll up on other houses (which are vogueing gangs) with lye in mayonaise jars and throw it on them fools.

I had a cool dream a week ago that I was part of the kids in the hall and we were writing some really funny sketches, me and kevin mcdonald were laughing so hard that it hurt our stomachs really badly.

There is a strobe light and a fencing epee in my room.

in one disowned city



My plan is to use the Babel fish translation website to add some 'mystery' to my message to that dearest of my dears. Here is a sample I just threw out there:

"Dear Natalya, I am so glad to hear back from you. I know what you are saying about being alone, I live alone too. A stranger in a strange town."

English -> Dutch
Dutch -> French
French -> Italian
Italian -> English


"Better Natalya, is therefore happy for meaning to speak it about you. Me weet that that only says to you on he is only also, screw me. One foreign in one disowned city."

Weet is Dutch for 'know', neat. Screw me indeed.


Image from the BBC tv version of the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy.

My Russian Bride

"George says:
I'm gonna have my own paris hilton video
George says:
me eating triscuits and playing wow shot in 'night vision mode'"



So as you all know I have a russian stalker who sent me two messages over the last week and clearly wants to get her hands all over my wallet. What can I say, I'm a sucker for Slavs.

Anyway, I am waiting for her to contact me again before I send her the money it would cost to fly out here, after all her parents are both dead!

Who tells you that? When you first talk to them, within the first paragraph... not only that but she tells me how long ago they died! Like I care, look, as long as they aren't around to mooch off my wealthy estate, allowing me to dote more completely on my lovely russian dancing queen, I'd be pleased as punch.



It makes me wonder... how come I haven't reached out to the mail order bride industry yet? That time is now, seize the day etc!!!

When I was thinking of teaching english in Korea the thought of taking advantage of my height and westerness to score big time was less a selling point and more of a reason to be wary, but now I see the error of my ways. I know better now, what I really need to do is move to Nigeria and marry a princess, therby inheriting the princedom and all the money that I can't touch without YOUR help dear friends.

The real cause of all this distress comes from the culture of the pay to play online dating site. The only people I'd care to meet wouldn't pay, and the only people willing to try and scam the system (the ones that are obviously the real 'catch') are also the ones desperate to sweetype you for your westjet money.

All in all I'd be better off hitting up the local jewish singles mixer... a mitzvah indeed. Maybe I should invite my russian sweetheart to come with, she could pinch a wallet or two while I salt the ol' mine.



"George says:
clearly i now realise I need to respond to this russian mystery woman, it's too funny
George says:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Romance_scam"



All black and white photos by Maksim Dmitriev circa 1890.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

beige and other colours make me relax



So if you were following the events of myself being contacted on the onion personals ( see two posts ago ) I have an update for you:

I decided to go ahead and contact this cinderellagirrl because I appreciated the work she put into imbedding her email secretly into her message... So I replied to that email through my rarely used safe for spam email account by saying something like "I like codes and cyphers and stuff, am I talking to the right person? -Messaged"

I got a reply, including these two pictures, and this message:

Hello !How is your day?

Now I would like to tell you some more details about myself. I'm 24.
My birthday on October, 17, my name is Natalya. I never got married
and I live alone!My mother has died 5 years ago, my father has died 3 years ago! At me did not remain relatives! Since I graduate from
college I have been working in children's hospital. When I have spare
time I go the gym to do sports because I take care of my body, also I
like to dance! . I like to travel and visit different places, but my
work does not allow me to do it frequently. I have many friends, we
spend the time together, play billiard, tennis, and have other
entertainment. I don't have many pics myself, but I try to find some
more pics. I send you my picture so you can an idea of me more
closely. I want to confess to beeing a sweettooth , I like ice-cream,
cakes, candy. But I can allow it seldom because not to be fat. What
else can I say to you about myself? I love beautiful clothes and
different things of light colours. Light-blue, pink, beige and other
plain colours make me relax and even feel better. And what is your
favourite colour? Please Ask me some more interesting things about
yourself. How do you prefer to relax? What is your character? What is
your preferable qualities in women? Do you want to have a wife? You
can also ask me questions in what you are inetrested in. I impatiently
wait for your letter and eager to answer all your letter. And of
course it will be pleasant for me to receive your new photos and even
want to learn about you some more information you. Write to me, I
wait. Your friend Natalya.


****

I went back to copy over the message I got on the Onion but this is what greeted me:

System notice: The body of this message has been removed as this member appears to have been abusing our terms of service. By blocking this member's message, we reduce the incentive for future abuse and thereby provide a better overall experience for our members - we apologize for any inconvenience.


*****

So I guess this is some kind of a Nicole Kidman in "Birthday Girl" kind of scam.. I think it may have been brought on by one of my profile answers:

Fill in the blank: _____ is sexy; _____ is sexier.
a fake russian accent is sexy; an undeniable physical attraction
is sexier

****

So now I wonder if I should respond to this email and try and string this along some more or not...



I'm going to go with not.

new mix


well it's almost time to send this one out to the press, the new compilation is just about ready, "rappin with the gods while soul claps hands" is all 60's and 70's soul music that goes out to all the lovers out there, the lonely lovers, those in love, out of love, with loved ones overseas, with ex lovers at their side, with dreams of love, or those like me who think women are nuts but would fall for one if given the opportunity, love is the word...

here's the original cover art which was changed after some legal wrangling

[url]http://www.sendspace.com/file/5j8ibc[/url]

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

the old short shrift

I went to the bar in the building where I work on monday to celebrate

There was a work party somewhere on the other edge of town which I had decided not to attend. The reason for this was simple, I don't get along with the people I work with, there is no kindred spirit among the 10 or so people I've spoken to and the thought of getting wasted with them made me think I might do something that would label me as the 'guy who did that thing' for the rest of my working career at this place... not so much that I would care what they think, but that it would throw off my current modus operandi at work which is to be as unobtrusive as possible... so far I think I'm known as the guy who leaves the room to get water a lot, which is where I want to be... I should add that lately I've been getting coffee...


now I've met what I feel like are more than enough kindred spirits in my life, a good 3 or 4 that I would list off hand, the take a bullet for types, but that's more a dramatic flair and sense of purposelessness rearing it's head.. let's say the convince the gunman that the cash is enough types... anyway... so I didn't expect anything more from a job in edmonton with a bunch of video game nerds like myself...


So I went to the bar and had a sandwich and three pints and it came up to 19.85... I was feeling good, I had been working on a drawing of Bolzano for Mark for a couple of hours while listening to the habs game, habs won, and I also just heard about some more illustration work to do with indyish.com that is gonna be easy and a chance to use the wacom, so I was in the mood to give the local beauty working as my waitress a nice tip, 5 dollars worth of nice tip, this proved to be a mistake... I have 40 bucks, two twenties, and I give her one twenty and ask for change, while holding the other 20. She gives me 3 five dollar bills and then starts fishing around in her change purse thingy, I say nah don't worry about it and hand her the other 20.

So I sit there and put the placemat drawing into my bag and am putting on my scarf (it is snowing in edmonton these days) when little miss waitress comes back with a dumb look on her face, she now appears to me as someone who is drinking away a certain amount of pain, all the while trying to serve a bar that was pretty busy for a monday night... (oilers game and monday night football)...

She claims I gave her a twenty and she gave me 15 back and where is the rest of her money, she only has one twenty on her person she claims and therefore i must have been trying to scam her, I protest, explaining that I have no twenty on me, I double check my breast pocket and yes, the 40 bucks is gone and 15 remains... by her logic she must be trying to scam me, I imply this without saying so... I tell her "Well check again, I'm sorry but I'm not paying you twice" and she kind of resigns, and moves back to her cash, I look around the table and take my time leaving, like a true scam artist would I guess? She shoots me a withering gaze... She's pretty, but pretty boring looking, cut and pastey, and she's drunk and can't manage her purse... I'm drunk too but walk out of there still happy... See either way I have some advantage over the situation, either I am the expert con artist and short grift man I used to admire so much in my late teens, or she is wrong... and I'm listening to a soul mix that I'm almost done making, I walked home, got some wine and played warcraft...

Oh the other thing is that now I have a reason not to go back, either they blacklisted me or I blacklisted them, I'm just glad to know where I stand vis a vis overpriced booze and a crummy sandwich..

Monday, November 5, 2007

lazy business

I wonder sometimes about the difference between act and thought, and if thought has any value in relation to act.

It came up when I responded "indeed" to Darcy on msn. I saw "in deed".

Action
Reaction
Inaction
Indeed
Word is bond
Word is born

(that is a poem!)

I was chatting with Darcy about how we hadn't talked in a while, and he promised to call me soon. It's been a while, and he has a lot on his plate as it were.

What's on my plate?

A bad diet. I have seemingly replaced my enjoyment of the "total fuckdown" through weed with a "total fuckdown" of poor eating habits. Man's self destructive side astounds me.
It's like I need to be commiting things that I feel are wrong in order to feel correct. Now who the hell does that?

I don't know, I can't read your mind.

Still, indeed, it was a moment I decided yesterday night to try and eat well. I should add that I am pretty chubbed out these days, relatively speaking. So there's a visual inspiration every time I stand near the mirror, or wear my tight pants.

What else?

I got a cryptic message from someone through the onion personals with her email in code form. You can't send a message without paying, if you are a guy, and if you do send a message they monitor it to make sure you don't just exchange emails and instead continue using their pay to play system... First message I've gotten. She lives in Toronto, and I would hardly respond except for the novelty and safety of it all. But is that even a good reason?

Her name is Cinderellagirrl

lol

Oh my name is ___________, which made sense when I was drunk and signed up... now, not so much...

Why even sign up for such a thing?

Well, for me, it is to make the measure of myself, what I would say, how I would describe myself, given a set of defined questions about myself how would I answer them... my favorite question/answer combo was this: "where do you see yourself in 25 years? Celebrating the 25th anniversary of answering this question." (which is funny, and if you haven't heard mitch hedberg, might seem somewhat an original answer...) To actually contact someone else? Nah hahah

Next time maybe I'll get a friend like one of you loyal readers to fill out the questionnaire for me,

I'm reminded of an old drug dealer of mine who has sex all the time through one of these sites. He's a good guy, but very different from me.

Gigi met a nice guy recently who just stepped to her at a cafe. I will never be that guy, stepping to your girl in public, who does that?. Though I do love the souls of mischief song "step to my girl"... I think I'm going to go listen to it, after I eat this healthy food.

Tuesday, October 30, 2007

perfect pitch

I was wondering about pitch today cause yesterday I was singing a song (quietly, under my breath, to not disturb my roommate). I was thinking about perfect pitch because of something I dreamed last night. I wonder if someone with perfect pitch recognizes notes the way we normal folk can recognize colours? And what then of the colour blind?

There's a lot to be said for things we take for granted.

I've been in touch with school again about by B.A. it would be 3 full semesters before I could graduate, and 4 years on top of that before I would finish the education degree, if I took it in Montreal. Ontario offers a 2 year education degree, and that is worth looking into. I think that my visit back home over christmas break will help me make the decision more easily. I see no future for myself in video game design, it is not what I expected.

I also have been drinking wine quite a bit, but not to an unhealthy degree, I've drank a bottle in a night only twice, and one of those times I really had to force myself, as I coulnt get the cork back into the bottle, and didnt want it to "spoil".

I'm not sure why I like to eat doritos as I do, oh wait, they are delicious!! I did have 3 or 4 nights when I ate a whole bag while playing wow, that was ridiculous times 3 or 4. I think I've riddiculed myself away from doing that again.

I hate having an opinion and trying to express it to a group of non-friends. It makes my face feel red and heart beat strongly. That is what I fear most about school.

The ukulele is my love, it and playing WOW for gold. I know that if Mark quit I would follow suit, but I might resent doing so. The uke is a solitary passion. I even wrote a song.

All the little windows
in the playhouse you designed
are single paneled broken
woodplanks across the frames
The wind across the forrest
is blowing through the seams
it whistles to me secret
I'm not sure what I mean
The wind across teh forrest
is blowing in the trees
like waves in the canola
so vivid in the fields
-
Fridge magnets on drawings
wallpaper on the walls
cobwebs in the attic
footsteps in the halls
Your toy playhouse
your porcelain dolls
vines are growing on the walls
vines are growing on the walls
-

Thursday, October 25, 2007