He Takes His Suits, His Shirts, His Cars, His Coffee and His Metal The Same Way. [entries|friends|calendar] Earl Wayne Poleski [ website | DeviantArt ] [ userinfo | livejournal userinfo ] [ calendar | livejournal calendar ]

thinking really hard about things [01 Dec 2009|04:04pm] For whatever reason I just checked out Arnie's old pictures in his facebook. I guess I wanted to see his different hairstyles. It went back aways and I kinda expected to see pictures of myself, but I didn't. I don't know why I expected to see pictures of me and him in his facebook for a few reasons--main among them, i don't think i have any pictures of him in mine and my facebook is mine. Then, I think, when he was doing good college things with people, I was at home with Robin. When he was traveling, I was knee deep in Adult industry misery. When was landing a job in Korea, I was having an unemployed adventure accross washtenaw county seeking jobs all over. He was making something of himself and got a good haircut and I was unmaking myself while my hair just fell out and I gaged out my ears. We led our lives and did our things and recently, we've caught up with each other. It's unreal how he went that way and i went this way and now it looks like our paths might cross again. I sent off two packages to two agencies today. Hopefully, one of those hooks in the water will catch a fish because, y'know, I need the money, the change and all that but it'll be really really great to be with my friend again. i got up early today and knocked a lot of shit off my to-do list and now i'm very tired but crazy. my guts are dancing but my head is weary (i hate that word, by the way, but i hate to be redundant more than i hate being poetic). it's been a really educational and hard year. the first month was the last at a steady but an entirely unfulfilling job. then the next six or so were so terrifying not knowing where my next meal was comming from or if i'd have a job tomorrow. then jimmy john's where i started to get my shit together. since july i feel like all the undoing i let happen to myself be undone. i feel like i'm catching up and turning back in to the good person i was back when. i think i owe a lot of it to jimmy john's and to my mom and dad and to Arnie for putting my head on striaght again. i could go in to what mixed me up so bad but i've been going over that long enough all year. i think everything is going to get better and better a little every day. I used to wonder where i'd be this time next year. this time last year, i was as much of a train wreck as i ever was, maybe at my worst. this time last month, things are as good as they are right now so i reckon this time next month, things could either be good or gooder. i kinda need a nap. a pepsi and a smoke. and man.... i'm just happy i landed on my feet so solidly, or at least as solidly as i have. cmmt

Random notes [29 Nov 2009|04:53am] The Following are a series of pictures that, when put together in the proper preportions and in no specific order make up the comic book I'm working on now. ( notes ) 1 cmmt

John Hughes Movies [23 Nov 2009|10:34am] John Hughes was born in Lansing, I didn't know that. But you know what else? None of his big movies titles didn't make any sense save for one. Check this shit out: "Sixteen Candles", yeah but not until the day after her birthday with the dreamy lame guy. Should have been called "Sixteen Candles plus one super teeny tiny one". "Pretty in Pink"..... Really? Was she pretty in pink? Should have been called "A'ight lookin' in Pank". "Ferris Bhuler's Day Off" what a bunch of bullshit. In the movie, Jeffery Jones was all "He's been absent nine times." Like... why wasn't it called "Ferris's Tenth Day Off"? Right? His National Lampoon movies should have been done by John Landis because"Animal House" FTW. "Planes, Trains & Automobiles"....And busses (Briliant fuckin' flick, by the way). "Uncle Buck" and the kids. "Home Alone" and the theives. "The Breakfast Club" Nope. They didn't eat breakfast. They ate Lunch and smoked some weed and Alison put Captain Crunch on her sammich, but no one, repeat NO ONE ate breakfast. Could have been called "The Lunch and Dope Club" which sounds like a better movie to me. "She's having a baby". No shit. I've never seen this movie before, so I've got nothing,but isn't that what girls do in addition to all the ther cool shit they can do that men can't? so why not just call it "she's doing something too many people do already." Y'know what one movie of his had a title that made sense? "Weird Science" There's no more fitting title for that movie with out being lewd. I mean, it could have been called "Not fucking the fake woman we created to rape anyway" but who would go see that? 2 cmmt

[16 Nov 2009|12:03pm] woke up this morning and got started early after being up until 3:30. I had to go to the post office to get my passport situation fixed, the library to jam out some document and the state police station to get a background check done because i'm trying to jump the country. went in to the car and found the seventeen cents in the ashtray had been taken and my glove compartent and console had been looted. nothing important was missing, shit had just been tossed around a little. i can imagine how bummed the theif must had been to find a red felt bag with magic cards and d20s in it. the top i'd traded a girl for was still in there. my expired passport was still in the backseat. i didn't even report it to the cops. chilling and watching hitler documentaries on the history channel. going to ann arbor this afternoon with heather. need to track down kate and give her the comic. cmmt

[14 Nov 2009|09:03am] it's always so weird comming clean with grandma and grandpa--telling them about all the drinking and all that from back when, but i expect they wanna help me and hear me out and if they wanna call it witnessing, then i guess they get to see the filthy asshole their grandson was for more than a year. we had lunch yesterday and they filled me in on things. it was really nice. they told me about back when and i told them about back when too but assured them i was better and i am. they told me about their snow-birding to florida but i didn't tell them about wanting to go to korea. i wanted to tell me more, but i'm always on egg shells with them. i worked until about quarter to three then was cut loose with orders to be back at eleven this morning. i'm up now chilling and thinking about breakfast and the shower i can feel myself needing. 1 cmmt

AFI [10 Nov 2009|06:00am] Saw AFI earlier. Was okay. Lots of lighting and lame security. i dunno why i went. wanted to do something impulsive i guess. i'm not as in to them now as i used to be. a lot has changed. We, that is me and Cherry, got there a little late. she lives in the middle of nowhere and i got lost on the way in to Detroit and doors were an hour earlier than they were on ticket master. we got in and shoved as far front as we could. it wasn't hard. the crowd was a bunch of skinny guys and short girls--a lot of kids. they tried to get rough but wern't very good at it and when it started to get fun, security broke it up. the guards were real pricks, no cameras or any of that shit. what the hell? We got there as they were playing "Dancing through Sunday", which was cool, I've always sort of liked that song and then they bring it down. I estamated i was about four songs late. I got to see them play "The Leaving Song Part 1", which brought to mind the first time i really heard it when Arnie, Cody Lucas and I were singing it and being very sad it after we all said goodbye to Robin. That time and most times since then has summoned up that feeling--being crowded in the car in the dark and sad. but tonight, i didn't feel that at all. Sing the Sorrow came out in 2003 and was, without a doubt, one of my favorite albums at Eastern along with HIM's Dark Shadows and Briliant Highlights. I wasn't yet that in to Alkaline Trio yet and I still hated Cradle of Filth but I was also in love and floating most days but perfectly aware that any day robin could, should and would leave me. those albums were some kind of prelude to 2007. Maybe that's why i was always only about 95% with her. I knew eventually, she'd catch on and bail and fucking thankfully, there was black metal, a harem of strippers, horror movies, The Ramones and Danzig waiting for me and between now and then, I listened to so much other shit and got in to so much other stuff that hearing AFI and even hearing songs I know are good and I used to really really love didn't move me at all. Got me to thinking what songs mean that kind of thing to me and why. Every time I hear Marilyn Manson's "Great big white world", the first song I heard after I heard Jeremey died, I remember feeling blank and rocked. Songs Brooke danced to. The Trainspotting soundtrack and some songs off the Mallrats soundtrack and the fall of 2000 with Corey. Marilyn Manson, nine inch nails, Psyhcotica and Korn tracks with Matt and Ramones, Misfits, Anti-Flag, Green Day, Black Flag, The Sex Pistols, The Clash and The Crass with Arnie. All that goth shit, Christian Death, Sisters of Mercy, Joy Division and Bauhaus, I was in to the summer and fall of 2002 and winter of 2003 when Amanda and me broke up, me and Missi had that whole weird thing and I moved to eastern and was an island of a man. I remember getting really in to Cannibal Corpse, Birthday Massacre and GWAR and what was going on when i did. what else. where was i going with this? i guess i went out tonight because i wanted to be impulsive and go out to detroit where the air is sulfury and the people are peppery and unintrested in you. And. I think i wanted to go see this band that meant a lot to me when things were a little more innocent and good because for better or for worse, the robin era was the last good piece of time in my life when i didn't feel like i was full of nothing good. i tried to turn in to that guy for a while who only had two tattoos and one tiny earring with a girl who could take any bad day and bring it a little sun. at one point during the show, i remember looking up to Davy Havok's long hands and narrow veiny wrists and he held them up and wished i could feel that way one more time for one more day. just good and in love with the past in the past with plenty of happy tomorrows comming. s'funny though. i knew the time with robin wouldn't last no matter how many promises of forever she'd make. I guess I learned that nothing really is forever and today is the best time ever because fuck knows how tomorrow'll be. the last thing i remember thinking at the show as i watched the lights and listened to the music was yesterday was the last day for something. today is the start of something new. there's a change comming. it's a good feeling. mm. it's early, which is a nice feeling. i woke up early instead of being up all night for a change. i have work in a little while and i'm sorta tired of being sentimental. 2 cmmt

[22 Oct 2009|07:42am] this time last year, i think i hit the lowest emotional point i'd hit in a long time. just some shit hit home and hit the fan at home and at work and at that point, the two had become hard to distinguish. I was at work so much, it really was home and the apartment was just the place that had my bed and all my stuff. I just went there to sleep and shower. My personal life was non-existant. My love life was embrassing. I'd dropped out of reality, lost touch with my friends and family and was going though the motions at work and the ugly circumstances of what it all was was really starting to set in on me. for the longest time, seeing a girl march around in a bikini wasn't a big deal. it was just what she wore to work like my dad wearing a pair of khakis and a polo shirt to do business the girls wore either nothing or next to nothing. But then somehow, it all became a big deal. I caught on with it all and was suddenly horrified. Most people could go home and leave the office at the office. Not me. I had projects and all that shit and every friend I had was at work. There was no escaping it. I was miserable. The only soliace I had was the money was right and the work wasn't that hard. it was just all so nightmareish. up until this time last year, I was doing okay with work. Then something happened that I still really have a hard time thinking about muchless talking about that made things far away, quiet and sad. my attitude changed in a matter of minutes. There was no way i could hide my feelings and in my heart of hearts, i knew there was no way I could do it for twenty or thirty years. So, really, despite all the stress and grief i went through over the past six months with job hunting and interviews and all that awful unbearable shit in this retarted recession, I am happier now that I'd been in a long time. Truth be told, though, if you told me three years ago--living on pearl street and with robin or two years ago--accepting a promotion or last year--seemingly on my way up fast, that this is where I'd be, living in Depot Town delivering food again for respectable money, I'd've never believed you. Shit, if you told me that six months ago, I doubt I'd've believed it. I guess it just goes to show that there's no way to tell where I'll be in six months much less a year. My life is an adventure, but it's getting to be a little stressful. I think I'd like to be able to set my watch for longer than a semester and think about the next year instead of just the next month. This is all part of some plan. anytime the next step wanted to step in, I think I'm ready. cmmt

Marilyn Manson [21 Oct 2009|06:30am] How far gone is Marilyn Manson from his intense roots? It's not a question of when did he lose touch with his shock metal ideals--I think his last good album was The Golden Age of Grotesque--but why? How could he have gone from albums that tell a story with grinding angry rock music to gunky boring albums with lyircs that go through the motions? Who told him he was an artist with water color when he was already a briliant musican? He's self-producing his albums these days and has hooked back up with Twiggy Ramirez but has lost touch with his core co-consparators Madonna Wayne Gacy and Ginger Fish. He's hired a steady stream of unintresting and meagerly talented rockers to fill unfillable roles to tour and record--personalities with no personality, at least inasfar as the Marilyn Manson sound, look and feel. Again, the last good line up for the band was with the Golden Age of Grotesque with Fish, Gacy, John 5 (now of Rob Zombie) and Tim Skold (formally of KMFDM). Ramirez, at that time, was unsucessfully auditioning for Metallica (which should go to show Metallica's out-of-touch-ness to turn down such an outstanding talented person) and playing for the over-rated and remarkably boring A Perfect Circle. Back in the day, the albums were a visual and audio attack: the liner notes were filled with detailed and shocking art that really added a lot to the listening experience making listening and relistening to Portrait of an American Family, Antichrist Superstar, Mechanical Animals and Holywood: in the shadow of the valley of the dead thrilling every time. I still listen to those albums from time to time and sometimes catch something new I missed the before. They're incredible albums--ones I've owned since I got in to music. Each album had a theme but most listeners will come up with their own unique interpataions of them: Portrait was an sneering and disaproving look at America's values. It's follow up, and Marilyn Manson's breakout release, Smells like Children, had Portrait re-mixes for "Cake and Sodomy", "Organ Grinder" and "Dope Hat" along with covers of "Sweet Dreams" and "Rock n' Roll Nigger". Both albums were an outrageous experience that made me uncomfortable to listen to--it was like a horror movie you listened to that summoned up some terrifying mental images. Listening to them was just as exciting as it was spooky. In 1995, Antichrist Superstar came along with "The Beautiful People". The videos from that era were dirty or depressing. It was like Portrait of an American Family, a crazy album written by kids pretending to be drug-addicted satanic bisexuals, had grown up. Antichrist was an album written by grown men who were actually over-sexed, satanic drug-addicts--there was this feeling there as if to say "We were goofing around before, this is for real. This is what you raised us to be and this is what you have to deal with." Both albums were produced by nine inch nails' mad scientist Trent Reznor and were released on his nothing record label. Portrait was your American high school experience, Antichrist was college. Manson deviated, significantly in many fan's minds, with Mechanical Animals. It had this sci-fi feel to it, as if it was his version of David Bowie's Ziggy Stardust. By this time, Manson had toured the world, I think, he had something to say about the entire world, not just America. Animals felt as though he'd taken to some spacestation, where he was observing and critiqueing us. He had determined most of the world had failed it's self and needed to hear what Mechanical Animals had to say. I didn't love it at first, but after a few listens, I learned to appericiate how diffrent and sophisticated it was. By this time, the lineup had gone through several changes: the gituarist for Portrait Daisy Berkowitz had been replaced breifly by Zim Zum for Antichrist but after he didn't show up for practice he was replaced by the awe-inspireing Michigan native John 5. The first drummer, Sara Lee Lucas threw a fit after Manson burned his drum set and was replaced by Ginger Fish. That's only to name a few. Marilyn Manson has had more line ups as he's had albums. Mechanical Animals was not produced by Trent Reznor. Between studio recordings, Manson released a live album called The Last Tour on Earth, which isn't a bad live album experience. Listening to it, you can almost see him strutting around on stage cursing cops and christians. Next, in 2001, came Holywood which, I believe, was Marilyn Manson's reaction to the Columbine school shooting, which was odd--I could never see how people connected a Star-Wars-on-cocain-like album could be constriued as the insperation for one of America's greatest tragedies. Perhaps, he thought of Holywood as the album people wanted him to make--loud, violent and angry--the kind of album that would make someone kill people. I really liked this album and marked a great piece of time in my life with some really great people. I saw Marilyn Manson on tour three times during his God, Guns and Government tour. Then Marilyn Manson vanished for about two years--not to emerge again until 2003 with Golden Age of Grotesque where Manson's look had changed again. He'd reinvented himself as a 30's era Dada-esque artist in suits, hats and zoot suit chains--he cut his hair. In a lot of ways, Marilyn Manson is a latter day Madonna, a new look and strut to each album to keep it fresh and exciting, ever keeping us on our toes. It was also a hyper-sexed party. At the time, the band was dating glamorus women; Manson was engaged to pin up model Dita Von Teese and John 5 was with Penthouse Pet Aria Giovanni. Both made apperances in the video for "MOBscene", which, along with several other Manson singles, was always a strip club favorite. Manson made no attempt to cover up his alcholism or his feelings for actress ex-girlfriend Rose Mac Gowan. All ingredients combined, Golden Age had a propaganda/porno film feel to it. It was a lot of fun to listen to. Golden Age would be the last good thing he'd put out. The first line of lyrics on the album on the song "This is the New Shit" was "Everything has been said before, there's nothing left to say anymore." Manson would, again, vanish for several years. His pop culture relavance had run out, he was almost 40, his alcholism had gotten worse, his marriage with Dita had fallen through and he yet again re-invented himself as a moody unlovable and undangeous goth. So far gone from the hot shot he was not 15 years ago with so much to say, Manson put out Eat Me, Drink Me and dedicated it to his new girlfriend 19 year old Actress Evan Rachel Wood--again, apparently trying to prove to his exes he was just fine without them, an act that was old the first time I'd heard it. The first song on the album was the long and lazy "If I was your Vampire", which he seemed to thing was a new "Bela Lugosi's Dead"--the 30 year old Bauhaus song that is thought of by many as the godfather of goth songs. It was about this time I got to thinking about how many songs Manson had covered: "Sweet Dreams", "Rock n' Roll Nigger", "Highway to Hell", "Suicide is Painless", "Tainted Love", "Personal Jesus", "Five to One", "The KKK Took my Baby away" to name a few--how much of his act was his and how much of it was someone else's? Manson also, apparently, wrote a song to express his feelings about My Chemical Romance with a song called "Mutalation is the most sincere form of flattery", a title that dosn't exactly roll off the tounge. I suppose he felt as though his goth rock supremecy was in question by a few New Jersey upstarts. I wasn't impressed with him making an album that is so petty to give in to pathetic little feuds, how awesome his significantly younger girlfriend is and how over his wife he is. I've still yet to listen to Eat Me, Drink Me from begining to end. Usually, I get bored with it and put something else on. In May, Manson put out The High End of the Low. I had high hopes for it. After Eat Me, Drink Me, Manson had a lot to make up for. I expected an album with punching beats, loud guitars and Manson screaming out lyrics that flowed together that made up songs that made an album that told a story. There are a few pops here and there, but by and large, High End is another bomb. The music is sluggish, the lyrics are unintresting and there's nothing there that hasn't been done before. It felt like Eat Me, Drink Me part two. Romantic to gossipy goth kids and irrelevant to everyone else. I bought it because I felt obligated to. I'd bought every album he'd put out and tracked down some obscure old recordings from the spooky kid days. I've still yet to listen to it. If I wanted to listen to pissy goth music, I'd put on Joy Division. I imagine Marilyn Manson has been though a lot since he first designed his band's logo and he'd changed as an artist and matured as a human being but that's no excuse to put out albums that sound like you don't give a fuck anymore. When I bought High End, I couldn't afford it, but this guy who rocked my high school years was putting out something new and I figured I should give him another chance. A few years ago, I tried to like two things in comics, X-men and writer Grant Morrison, by trying Morrison's run with X-men which was supposed to be very good. I hadn't liked any of the X-bocks or Morrison stories I'd tried, so it was both parties last shot at my heart. It blew it. And I put both behind me X-men and Grant Morrison have no sentimental attachment to me, certainly not like Marilyn Manson does, but I'll buy his next album but if it sucks, I'll never buy another one. But that's a mantra I'll repeat until Manson is done with music. I might hate it, but I used to love him. Love musician, hate the music. Weird thing is, I don't even hate the music or love the musician. I've grown out of Marilyn Manson. I can take him or leave him. I don't care for him like I used to. I'm not sure to blame him and his artistic swings or me and my personal changes. I'm not the kid I was when I first heard Marilyn Manson in October 1997. And that's all so odd to me. If there was one thing I never thought I'd out-grow, it'd be Marilyn Manson. I now go to bed to read Comic books. cmmt

Why I Hate Most Magic Players [20 Oct 2009|05:55am] Preamble: What follows is a story about my magic playing, past and present and my feelings on the current scene here in Ann Arbor. I imagine there'll be refrences in it that the un-versed in gaming reader will find completely foriegn and nerdy and they're totally right. If you don't understand what you're reading, google it if you're so inclined, but I don't think it'll take too much away from the story. I got in to playing Magic: The Gathering about 1996 or 1997 and was never a very good player. Back then, the cards wern't very good either but I sucked for the first few years, mostly because I wasn't able to get new cards or play against other people who played stuff that made me a more well-rounded player. I think I played the same five or six people for the first few years and they played the same decks they always played. I tried to keep up but I had enough drama going on that a card game was kind of low on the priority scale what with high school, driving, suicide attempts, hormones like crazy, expulsions, suspentions and the general misery of being 15, 16 and 17 years old and filled with anti-depressants all the time. I think I picked it up because I like Royal Assassain so much. He's always been my favorite card. I can still remember what i bought to get started with--a starter of fourth edition and a starter of Ice Age. One of my first rares was Force of Nature. I learned the basics but I never really learned how to win. I lost and I still lose... a lot. Which has always been whatever to me. We, the core of the M:tG community I was in back in the day, traveled around a little and played in a few tournaments. I played Discard decks at first with Hymn to Torach and Hypnotic Specters and then moved on to Necro decks after the initial rage died off and the Ice Age Block was cycled out of Type 2, now called Standard format, and did okay one time at a Type 1 tournament, now called either Classic or Legacy. Toward the end of my first run in Magic in 1998 or 1999, I had a deck that was filled with remarkably good cards of the day--Library of Alexandria, Balduvian Horde, Erhnam Djinn, Juggernaut, Berserk, Fork, Demonic tutor, Timetwister and a mess of Dual lands. I think I sold it off at some point, but for the life of me, I don't remember who to or for how much. In 1999, I was a year in to a new high school where no one played cards, so I put it behind me for the time being. I remember being really unintrested with the newer stuff anyway. I seem to recall really being thrilled with the Urza Block but hardly intrested with anything from the Mercadian Masques block. I think it had something to do with the art--and that no one wanted to play. I'd lost touch with the guys from back when which was just as well. Looking back, they were pretty embrassing nerds. I've heard the every cigarette shortens your life by fifteen minutes and consitering I didn't have sex with a girl until I was 21, every game of magic delays the loss of one's virginity by two days. I dabbled a little while in community college, mostly at an underground, fight club like scene in Jackson called the Underground where nerds of all types would hang out on a friday night playing whatever game they had. It was actually sort of cool consitering how nerdy it was. This was where I picked up smoking to some extent and played with guys who had a lot of time and money to waste on cards and games which I'm not totally convinced was because they didn't have girlfriends or wives. I don't remember what I played back then, but I know I won an Apocalypse pre-release sealed deck tournament which, to date, of the many tournaments I bought in to, is still the only tournament I ever won. Underground started off in the dusty crypt like basement of a pharmacy, then moved to the decrepit haunted house like Jacobson's building and eventually found a home in some cramped cellar. I've been back since, but with out the old crowd and the no smoking policy, it just isn't the same. There were a few nights I was out until 7 in the morning and then tried to sneak in to my parents house. It felt good to be doing something dumb but innocent. In 2000, I discovered comics and really started to figure out how to talk to girls and like that, magic was really put behind me. I shelved the cards only to grab them once in a while to play on the occosional Friday night at underground and would only stay if there was that semi-cool, smokey crowd. I'd leave and go play video games if the scene didn't suit me. I've always hated playing children. There was a little click of players at community college though who wern't entirely unbearable--but certainly no where near as cool as the barely cool guys at underground. They orbited me because I was dating a cute blonde goth girl and was starting to get that fake-ass tough guy swagger I have where I blow hard, cuss like a biker and wear black. They might've been better players, but I was definatly the only one making out with girls with a blow job notch on the belt to boast. When I graduated from community college, I tried to put away childish things for good and be a man--knowing me now these days, that didn't work out too well did it? Going to Eastern, I focused on my studies, hooked up with Robin and was more in to comics than ever. Magic was that dumb shit comic book stores also carried. I couldn't be less intrested in what was going on with it. I had a hot piece of woman, cool friends and it seemed like focusing on growing up was panning out. Then I graduated from Eastern and really kept my eyes on the prize. The next step was getting engaged and keeping on the comics which, at the time, was my chosen career path. It still is, but it's just harder these days to do anything with them beyond brainstorm and jot down notes. I was working two jobs and everything was hunky dory--until Robin left me and everything went upside down and all bets were off. I wasn't sure what to do. I threw myself in to work and in doing that, wound up doing really well for myself. I made friends at the club and eventually was invited to a late night magic game by one of the girls which blew my mind. Hot ass bitches play cards? Oh I am so there. I hadn't played in over seven years and had a lot to catch up on, but it was like riding a bike. I went and bought some cards and got back in to it. There was something irrestiable about playing cards with blonde bombshells with great legs, espcially after being dumped hard. It felt so nerd rock n' roll. It felt like... home I guess. The world kept getting weirder and weirder. I started really drinking, smoking pot and taking pills. That, combined with the late nights, the constant drama and noise and the non-stop parade of bullshit with the promotion I'd accepted at the club my entire life went out of balance and now, several months after being fired, have things started to feel normal again. But all through it, I'd played cards at Get Your Game On in Ann Arbor--a kind of Cheers for geeks. I've called going there my mini-vacation. They have comics and all that and I really like the crew they have working there and a few of the players. But for the most part... the players at Get Your Game On are easily the biggest dorks I've ever seen. Pure unwashed, greasy hair and acne in a stupid t-shirt pussy repellant. One time, I took Kate, this absolute ten of a stripper in there with me to shop for comics and the whole place was in awe at the sight of her. Don't get me wrong, there's a handful of cats in there I really dig and enjoy being around. There are people that go there that I'm disapointed to see aren't there if I go. But for everyone of those, there are three guys that I wanna punch in the face. They're all U of M mathmatics or engeneering majors--good with numbers but bad with people. Nowadays, I'm a better player. I get plenty of practice and keep up with whats new and good without much effort or intrest and have fun with it. I play for the pure enjoyment of it. I love knowing I can go and play and leave when ever the hell I want which is a good goddamn thing because sometimes, that moment of "IGOTTAGETTHEFUCKOUTTAHERE!" comes on and I gotta peace and there's no horseshit about how I have to do anything. Sure, there are rules to follow when it comes to decorum--I can't swear a whole lot or whatever--but I can swagger around and be a hot shot--the coolest of the uncool and have a good time until it's time to split. ... But I hate the way some players will really stick to good sportsmanship. I hate shaking hands at the begining of matches. I certainly will at the end of a match if the duals were good but I never offer my hand at jump street or do I ever say good luck. It seems like such an empty gesture that some guys do because they feel like they're supposed to. I love playing a player who loves to play more than he loves to win but those players are few and far between. It's awesome to see a deck that is totally unique and creative, but that's next to unheard of. I can't tell you how many times I've played against a goddamn Tarmagoryf deck or a lame counter/top stack or your run of the mill goblin deck or those stupid storm/charbelcher decks. That shit is beyond played out and agonizeingly boring and irratating to play against. It shows absolutly no creativity at all. I know everyone wants to win, but whatever happened to just liking to win? it's more fun to play the game than it is to win the game, in my oponion, which is a good thing because I lose a lot. I also hate how those guys play with their faggoty playmats with fantasy scenes on them. I seriously want to get a custom one made with Joanna Angel or Sasha Grey on it. I'm not sure why or what that'd accomplish other than I'd have the sexiest, coolest and most bad ass playmat in the joint. I also can't stand how some of these guys will file through their hands as if it's a nervous tick. they move their cards from hand to hand, I think to keep their most-recently-drawn card a mystery. but the flip-flip-flip-flip gets really annoying. Relax. I'll finish my turn soon enough and then you can go. chill out. I'd love to see these guys try and deal with some tough guys or some hot girls or slam a beer. I also really hate it when I'm given advice from on-lookers, even in a casual game and espcailly if it's from a stranger or someone I just don't like. It just tends to feel like they're saying "you're incompatant, aren't you? I'm going to give you some education." this is usually from those fuckers who can't get a sentance out with with saying 'basically' at least once. Like "I'm gonna break it down so you morons can understand what the genius speaking is talking about." when an opponent tells me how to play a little tigher at the end, like one of the champs at GYGO has done for me with no resentment on my part, I'm gracious, but on-lookers can look on if they're so inclinded if they're drinking a bottle of shuduhfuggup. New blocks are always very off putting for me. I picked the game back up with the Lorwyn block comming in but now, it's been cycled out of standard and in to extended which always makes me sad when the block I got in to gets declared old. The new stuff is okay, I guess, and i know i'll keep playing. but it's all cards. if it's not a big deal to me, why am i making it a big deal? maybe because i havn't written in this thing in almost a month. maybe because i hate it when my mini-vacation is fucked up with johnny geek and jimmy nerd just make it a drag. maybe i'm writing between lines again and re-telling a story i've told to death to an audience with ever-decreasing intrest and volume through a diffrent pair of lens. instead of talking about what i was wearing or listening to while i did things, i'm talking about what games i played. and i've played a lot of magic. but i've also matured in many ways. sure, i'm still pretty sophamoric and laugh at farts but i'm not the same idiot i was when i was 17. back then i had orange hair and was portly now, i have thinning hair and i'm a little thinner. back then, i was stoked to make out with the ugliest girl in school. now, i sneer if i'm not at least hitting a triple with at least an eight. back then, i was this boring fuck who smoked black cloves and played cards badly. i reckon now i'm this intresting tattooed worldly hot shot with a shitty attitude and a dark sense of humor who smokes expensive cigarettes where the C in Camel is a K and play cards with style. There is hope for gamers. They just need The Ramones, Black Sabbath, Public Enemy, a few beers, a few nights out with some dudes and a lap dance or two. They need to get some hair on their nuts and their heads out of their asses. Winning isn't everything--playing is. play like there's no goddamn tomorrow and have a good time doing it or get the fuck on with your night with a beer or something. Get some style and be yourself--because, frankly, sometimes, it feels like i've been playing the same guys sometimes since I started. cmmt

Amazing Spider-Man #606: Earl writes between the lines. [27 Sep 2009|04:05pm] While reading Amazing Spider-Man #606 I read a line Black Cat dropped while she and Spidey where sparring verbally: "Why be bitter when I can be me?" Which is really how she rolls. She's awesome. But she isn't the awesomeest. Everyone knows Mary Jane is the awesomeest. Black Cat was, I think, the bad girl that every good boy needs a taste of before Ms. Right comes along espciazlly as a palate clenser, a rebound, after the good girl either blows you off or... y'know... get tossed off a bridge by your sworn enemy or something. Ms Right is the awesomeest, with out a doubt, but part of you will always kind of pine, whine and wonder what could have been if you were different or the good girl, your own personal Gwen Stacy, had stayed alive or simply stayed. So a bad girl will get you over that really fast. A girl in a tight black costume, wild hair, an uncanny knack for being unlucky and really really great knockers will make she-who-apparently-never-put-out-for-petey seem as pale as she was blonde. And then reality sets in. You can't introduce Black Cat to Aunt May. You can't take her anywhere with out a scene of some kind happening. Sure, the sex is great and she's a full on, drop dead, knockout and one hell of a reliable back up when Carnage hits town of you need to break out of prison or something but she's not the marrying type--at least not for you. she's too Rock n' Roll and you still have your chemestry set and dream of playing for the Mets someday. Had things been diffrent, you and Black Cat might've worked out but as it is, she's one of your few and bestest friends ever and you might meet and marry your Mary Jane but you might picture ol' Black Cat when you're trying to wrap up but you wonder if you'll ever totally put behind you how you felt about Gwen when you were in college and how Black Cat rocked you. Oh and, because of last week's Epic Football Post, the Lions won today. First win in 19 weeks. The score was 19 to 14. 1 cmmt

[21 Sep 2009|05:53am] [ mood | hopeful ] I'm super-bummed: the Lions havn't won a game since Week 16 in 2007. I actually got up today to watch football. It's become my week routine: work all week and then have Sunday and Monday off to watch football with. It's wholesome and good, but it makes me steam and swear and call the players bums. It makes me feel like a crusty Jets fan, mustache'd, in a faded Namath jersey, filled with Old Style with salty-from-peanut-shell fingers. Eyes blood shot and hair thin while you watch the team you want to win lose and the guys who some how became younger than you all of a sudden a few years ago try so goddamn hard to try and give you something to cheer up for. I'm not crazy for Matt Stafford. I don't hate him yet like I hated Jon Kitna and his pussified born-again bullshit and I really don't hate him like I hated Joey Harrington but I don't love Stafford like he's a Manning. I reckon I resented Joey Harrington at first because he was a pretty boy and then I hated his stinking guts because he was a pretty boy and a shitty follow up to the fairly solid preformances from Eastern Michigan University Alumni Charlie Batch. Batch has been traded off the Philidelphia, who was owned by the Saints today, but that's alright--I have a good feeling about New Orleans this year--and now plays fourth fiddle behind injuried McNabb, whoever-the-hell-started-for-the-Eagles-today and Sadist and hopeful prison-rape-victim Michael Vick. I've heard Andy Reid is going to start Vick either week three or four and I suppose I can see why without even knowing who they're playing. They've had a bad start this season and aren't going to the super bowl so what's the harm in putting in a freak like Vick? How far gone have the Colts gone since Tony Dungy took to network TV and Marvin Harrison started shooting at people? I know they still have Peyton Manning but if you were to put a gun to my head and demand I give you a run down of their first two weeks of the season and it's my head, my brains would be all over the place. Oakland has had a great start--one and one is okay for a team that has done almost as bad as the Lions, espcially when their win this week was against the faggoty Cheifs and their week one loss was to the Chargers after one hell of a close game. I expect good things out of them this year. McFadden, Miller and Russell don't suck and I reckon after a few years, they'll be not terribly unlike Smith, Irving and Aikman--who, by the way, showed up at the sickeningly decadant game in Dallas against the Giants. Jerry Jones has built himself a billion dollar castle for his team of queers, the cuties in booties who cheer for them and the rednecks who turn out. Among those rednecks was Dubya which is fine. He's a ex-president and a Texan so showing up to America's Team's home opener is not only appropriate, but manditory. I mean, what else is he going to do? Write a thousand page memior? I like that he was there but I resent him showing up in a suit. It's a football game. Donnavan McNabb's mother has the right idea: she shows up looking like the quaterback's mother in her own version of her kid's jersey. Jessica Simpson, who was and might still be (I don't know) the girlfriend of Tony Romo, showed up in a white and pink version of his jersey. It's cute and awesome for your womenfolk to turn out while you play ball. But a suit? Relax. It's the weekend. You're retired. You're no longer a president or a business man. You're a regular methodist with twin daughters with DUIs. Show up in a cowboy hat. The hell with it. I was beyond stoked when the Giants managed to snach victory from the jaws of defeat in the last seconds of the game with a feild goal. I can deal with the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders being disapointed if George W. Bush's team is stopped. The Ravens had a few good plays--enough to win the game. The Bears and the Steelers had a pitiful exchange at Soilder Feild which was regrettable when it could have been dramatic. It rained at one point and in HD, that's one intense looking sporting event, but incomplete passes and slips saw to the game looking like fat highschoolers doing a good job instead of built professionsls getting paid more money in ten minutes than I'll make all year. The Jets, apparently, beat the Patriots which has to beg the question what's up with those queens? They've got enough going for them that they're given a shitload of trouble, despite a win, last week against the Bills and loss week two to the Jets--who, in my mind are to the Mets what to the Yankees are to the Giants. The lesser of the New York Teams, The Rangers are greater than the Islanders and the Cubs are greater than the Sox but not by much. The Bengals beat the crap out of the Packers and I think the Bucs have yet to win anything. So other than the Saints doing great and the Giants and the Raiders showing a lot of promise I've had a lot of trouble tracking my teams and what I have been able to track, it's all been bad news. The Lions really really want to win and not just for themselves any more. You could see it on poor young Stafford's face "I want to win for this dusty old city and give them something to feel good about" I'm not one to let my emotions be dictated by sports when the chips are down, but I will get swept up in everything when the Wings might win the cup, the Tigers might win the pennant and the Pistons are in the post-season. It's week two of the 2009 season and the Lions havn't won since week sixteen in 2007--that's nineteen winless weeks. Being discouraged by infamy is one thing, but embracing it... well... that some where I'm almost getting to. How long will it go? Will it be some horrifying record that will, hopefully, go unbroken? The Lions, the team that lost sixteen straight regular season games. I'm tired of hearing about people wanting to take the Thanksgiving game away from them and I hate people who hate the Lions and live in Michigan. The chips are down in the Wolverine state. We've gotta come together and tighten up and look out for one another and that means giving a clap of the hands or two when a play is good or grinning weather you want to or not when the Tigers nail a double play or score a run. It'll make you feel a little better to know most everyone in the state is with you when something positive happens. The Lions are our little-fuck-up heros and a Lions loss will no doubt be made up for by a Tigers win or the on-set of the NHL regular season, so we should hang in with them. They want a win just as bad, if not more, than we do for all the right reasons. There may not be much to be proud for, but they're the team we have. One of these years, they'll thrill and amaze us after the thirty-plus years of rebuilding has ended much the same way it took the Red Wings twenty years of pathetic nothing-ness to start winning Stanley Cups, the Tigers twenty years between world series apperances and the Pistons ten years between championships. You really never know with football. It's an any-given-Sunday senario. Next week, they play the insipid Redskins at Ford Feild. I think it's a winnable game for them. The Redskins aren't busting out this year, wining only by two points against the dismal Rams this week, and they held their own against the Vikings, who I'm certain will be contenders in the post season. Then it's off to Chicago against the mediocre Bears who are a far cry from the Bears they were only a few seasons ago. You can never really tell with football. I don't think it's like turning around a battleship. A team can turn on a dime--I mean, hell, if the Raiders can do it and if the Patriots can do it, the Lions can too. They will win for us this season and it could happen any week. If nothing else, keep telling yourself things can only get better because eventually, they do. Keep watching, true believers. 1 cmmt

[15 Sep 2009|04:07am] Started a new gig in Detroit today. Did okay. didn't suck. was left alone for several hours after next to no training. Made some money. introduced myself a lot and when you say "My name is Earl" people giggle. got texts from mom for a bit. she misses me and loves me. it's been almost two months since i went back to jackson. i think i should go home for a bit just to breath the air and look at the stars with out the light of the city and hear crickets with out the noise of michigan ave and smell the pine with out the stench of wet garbage, man sweat, spilled beer and alley urine. got home and felt like I'd put in a day's work and plopped down in the chair to watch football. was disgusted that the patriots beat the bills and the chargers beat the raiders after close games where it looked as though the underdogs could get a week one win against two bruisers of the leauge. went out to get some food, was delicious. potato skins and pizza. man fuel. had diet coke. it tasted good. got home and dozed off. the oakland and san diego game was only in the third quarter at one. woke up and went out. needed a soda. saw rocko. stuck my head in to jimmy john's and shot the shit with the boys for a second. wound up going to meijer to see if i could find the new dan brown. could not. carried around a 12 pack of blue moutain dew for a while. did not buy it. went back to ypsi. stopped and got gas and some chocolate milk. home now, in pajammas with the window open. there's a pleasent peace i feel this time of night, but it's hardly worth sleeping until the afternoon the next day. i have laundry to do. i just can't sleep. cmmt

The Beatles [10 Sep 2009|04:41pm] Alright so I forgot I wanted to rant yesterday about how everyone is jizzing their jeans over The Beatles re-re-releaseing their 40 year old records for the 2 surviving memeber to make another few million dollars for divorce settlements, brats from first and second marriages, bar tabs, gambleing debts and the elephant man's bones. o.O which, y'know, reminds me of something and I'm not sure how or if the two are linked at all but who owned both (alledgedly on one count) The Beatles Library and the Elephant man's bones until his recent apparent murder/self-inflicted-overdose-for-imagined-pain and who'll make all that money? I'd like to know because I don't and if I wasn't so disgusted by the world kissing the Beatles' asses some more I'd go in to it but since there are greater atrocities afoot.... I guess George and Ringo were all "hell, it worked for George Lucas to re-release the movies everyone should already have [because, frankly, if you don't own the Star Wars saga by this point in your life {it's irrelevant how old you are, you sould have it} you fail as a human being] Let's re-release "Let it Be" and all the rest of that old shit and tell everyone it's digital or whatever and they'll re-buy it" We're dealing with super-rich, super-famous and meagerly-intresting musicians who could afford to give their albums away at this point for like a buck apiece, but yesterday when I was getting my veinte sized yuppie drink I saw them for like $14. get the fuck out. know what else? this is the only band with enough sunshine stuffed up their asses that they'd be snotty enough to be all "hey, 09.09.09 is our day. Buy Beatles Rock Band" plenty of cooler and more intresting bands out there would never do this. you'll never see Led Zepplin, The Ramones, The Misfits or Rob Zombie doing that when they have more character and more intresting songs. It's just because we've been told for so long that everything rock n' roll flowed from The Beatles. Oh yeah? have we all forgotton about Elvis? The Rolling Stones? Black Sabbath? I reckon The Beatles and Elvis are to mainstream rock n' roll as The Sex Pistols and The Ramones are to Punk Rock and for my money, rock n' roll came from southern blues and who the fuck's from Tennessee and who the fuck's from Liverpool? oh snap. need another example? check this shit out. I like me some Led Zepplin but they full on stole songs from unknown american bands (Go on.... Click here you know you want to) Everything rock n' roll came from America and those British twats took it and made it their own which is fine. i'm all for that. Like everyone ripped off Iggy Pop and that's cool but give credit where credit is due and make a fucking Rock Band for cool bands not for the guys who took something American and make it British and on drugs. So, all that being said, for 10.10.10, I want to see either Black Sabbath or The Ramones re-release all their albums and get their own Rock band. and fuck Aerosmith for getting a Guitar Hero. They suck. buncha boston faggots. And Van Halen too. 2 cmmt

[07 Sep 2009|07:09am] i hate not sleeping like a normal human being. for the first few weeks, it's a trip and exciting. then you can almost tell yourself you're a rock star if only at a local level with groupies, offers for beer, pot and money. loud music and black t-shirts. after a month of watching the sun creep up and smoking the third last-cigarette-of-the-night--one per hour since four when it was quitting time and you start to feel peeled back. your skin becomes blue, your eyes sunken, sensative and dark and your lips a pale pink--the color of dead carnations left in the sun in an empty glass vase. you can't sleep before 7:30 and you can't wake up before noon at the absolute earliest. everything seems brighter and louder and more far away. everything seems dustier and stupider and more annoying. you react like a cat with a burning tail and snap at people. they don't deserve it and you know it, but neither do you--you just don't know what else to do at this point. the deck has been stacked against you and there aren't any options left--despite what your enthauastic republican dad has to say about it. He's convinced there are still oportunities in the land of oportunity. he bought the cow a long time ago and gets all the milk he wants now. lucky him. some people stepped on the right people on their way to the top and get to sit on a big happy throne of skulls. Each CEO is a little self-styled Pol Pot with his army of greedy fucked up lawyers, pathetic and impotent yes men and pointless over-eduated and under-skilled vice presidents to make him feel like he's still the popularist kid in school while the peons in the trenches make all the money, do all the leg work and get what they get because nothing else has been left for them. I got my education and all it got me is a position where i need more education. i worked hard and all it got me was the most miserable six months of uncertainity in the depression of our age. i suppose i needed that time to pass and happen to me, but it dosn't make it any easier to handle. any time those scum at the top wanted to share a little of the pie with the rest of us would be peachy. maybe then i could sleep and have an american dream of normal rockwell splendor instead of living a john steinbeck american novel with bruce springsteen singing the american album. i've gone from bad to worse to rock bottom. every time i figured there was no way any more shit could hit the fan, more shit hits the fan and you want to think "well,there's only one diretion to go from here" and usually you'd be right. if the past six month have taught me anything it's that someone always has it worse than you--thing is, it's sometimes your future self. i'm up too late when fingers get creative and impatient and thoughts become rushed and sloppy--conlusions are questionable and things are at their worst. in a little while, i'll go outside and had that third last smoke of the night and then have a sip of water and then fall asleep and when i wake up, i am certain that it won't all be as bad as that. cmmt

a good dream can ruin an otherwise normal weekfor your humble narrator [26 Aug 2009|03:41am] [ mood | better ] Monday, about noon--which is everyone else's 2am--I had a dream were I survived the end of Watchmen. I was looting a 7eleven for necessities--bottled coffee, smokes, jerky. I walk outside and the world is green and red and blue and there's a few people walking around. The hum of the world--traffic, buildings and radios--is gone. it's quiet and the world is chill with the most peaceful moist breeze saved for those of us that are still up in the middle of the night that you day people miss out on. I see Brooke walking up the street in her leopard coat. "Is a joke." she says, doing a Harry Potter impression. "S'no joke. It's good to see you." and then in the other room, my phone rings and wakes me. A happy dream where I see someone who always never failed to cheer me up who I havn't seen in so long. I recovered okay but then the rest of the day kind of stacked the deck against me. Later, I went to go to my laundry and saw an episode of the Simpsons I'd never seen before where Marge and Homer are young and she breaks up with him and he gets depressed and becomes something like Kurt Cobain. I read a few pages of The Rum Diaries--a line where Hunter says something like those of us who make their money with words don't put much stock in the big ones like Love, Strong and Happy and use words like Punk and cheap too often when the girl in it says nice things about this other writer. It's obvious Hunter--or whatever the name in it is, i havn't picked it up in a while-- likes her. It all hit home and set in on me. I got depressed and went home to the new place on the east side of depot town to watch Cops. I was called in to work and it was a welcome trip out because I was feeling cooped up and tired of the sweaty inside-ness of the house and unreal outside-ness of bars and girls and drugs and tattoos and pool i'd seem to keep seeing more and more of. I had my fill of that a long time ago. The change i needed has arrived--new digs, new gigs and new guys with some old girls from back when back to some small diet sized portion extent. just a bit--enough to keep shit intresting and a little sexy i guess. but there's still something missing. but whatever. Spider-man comes out tomorrow and the tigers are playing good with football season a few weeks away. i don't know if i'm happy or whatever, but i know i'm no punk. it's the middle of the night to the rest of you but to me, it's about ten in the evening. it'll be bedtime soon, but i know right now the air outside is laced with moisture and cool and dark. it's quiet here and there are crickets. cmmt

tonight at work, i... [08 Aug 2009|07:18am] ...peed in the ladies room and left the seat up just to make someone wonder. ...called a custo to tell her i was outside and she texted me later with "hey baby". ignored it. ...missed that crazy sheila girl so texted her friend julie. ...once again told the story about going swimming in my work clothes to some kids on a porch drinking wine. ...was told to tuck in my shirt. cmmt

[05 Aug 2009|09:48pm] I'd rather be dead than in Love. 2 cmmt

[26 Jul 2009|04:54pm] The other night at Jimmy John's, a drunk girl came in and was all "can i have a free cookie if i show you my boobs?" I replied with "fuck yes you can, get them titties out." she chickened out but she and i contuined to flirt. "what's your name?" "my name is Earl." "Luke?" "yeah, my name is Luke. What's your's?" "Sheila." "wow, how 2 live crew." she didn't get it, she was too young. but then again, i'm too young to make any real solid 2 live crew connections, but whatever. "what's your manager's phone number? you're an asshole!" I gave her my phone number. and she called later on. and we talked. she's silly. and that's about all the more intresting delivery stories i have. it was a pretty boring weekend. i'm tired. 4 cmmt

Re-watching the Re-make of Friday the 13th [20 Jul 2009|11:19pm] It's kind of weird. This movie came out February 13, i think. I remember listening to the radio in the cab about it and wanting to see it but not being exactly ... i think the word would be like... i don't think it was appropiate. I wasn't with anyone and I felt lonelier than i had in forever. i'd just lost the job at the vu and there i was, spending most of the night at the downtown stand. I remember thinking that the next day would be valentine's day--i was with no one and it'd've been me and robin's annaversary. a few weeks later, me and kaylin would go see it on our first date and make out in an empty theater while people were cut up. it was awesome. i remember wanting to touch her but wanting to wait for a quiet spell and for the mood to be right. i remember being surprised by how aggressive she was. now it's almost six months later--i hated driving the cab and working for a porno site didn't work out so i went back to delivering food, i'm on the verge of losing my apartment, i've got a solid pack of friends and kaylin and i didn't work out like that. we're friends and that's okay. it's weird how things like movies tie my life together. i just watched Sex Drive and every time the part where The MGMT is played i think of Brooke. every time i watch Mallrats, I think of Corey. Every time I hear The Stooges, I think of Lydia. Every time I watch Grindhouse, i think of amanda and the late-night after-movie makeout we had--the first one after robin and i broke up. my life is a series of jobs, movies, songs, girls and adventures. it's not the life i envisioned, but it is the life i love and in some ways, the life i planned. i just hate how i have no idea where i'll be living or what i'll be doing a month from now. but i love knowing that in a little bit here, i'll be at aubrey's having a beer with heather. 3 cmmt

[10 Jul 2009|03:08am] hohkay, this was some gnarly shit here. I went to go pick up Heather from work tonight and saw this girl chew her boyfriend out over the phone in the parking lot because he wasn't there to pick her up which, y'know, is understandable but then she gets in to this grand am and then sticks her ass out the door and drops her sweats and pees. It wasn't a gentle quiet tinkle, it was a loud gush of piss. What a weird way to end an otherwise normal day. cmmt

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