LIFE

IN
BLACK
AND
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last---past---next---now
( FEATURED OTHERS 'n STUFF )

MEG AND DIA!

ORLANDO?

WHERE IT BEGAN


ARE THEY SERIOUS?
(how far are we from censorship?)

ONE. . . WHY
(find your social conscience)

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o O ( ALTERNATIVE MEDICINE ) O o

CONVERSATION WITH GOD

MEANING OF LIFE
FORWARD THIS ENTRY
INTELLIGENT DESIGN

(SEE WHAT THE POPE SAYS)

o O ( AND COMING SOON! ) O o

ABOUT ZOOPLA

o O ( AND CURRENT EVENTS ) O o


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HELP THE RED CROSS
MESSAGES FROM MISSISSIPPI
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NEW ORLEANS JOURNAL

(MIRROR OF N.O. JOURNAL)
(INCLUDING LIVE CAM AND PHOTOS)

HELP AND BE HELPED
HURRICANE HOUSING
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THE FAILURE


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(202) 456-1111

Senate and Congress
(202) 224-3121

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USE THEM





FAT MAN WALKING
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INDEX BEGIN
FACE FUN!



last---past---next---now



SITES I SEE A LOT
IxQuick Search
Google Search
itools references
movie database

Giga-Quotes

Harry Chapin Lyrics
SSA




OLD AND NEW READS
(WISH I HAD MORE TIME
TO READ and EXPLORE)

mother jones
utne reader
common dreams
the progressive
mediate
the other side
orion
harper's
rolling stone
reel classics


fallout shelter
the memory hole
song meanings
truth out
wil wheaton
bugmenot
global news matrix
break for news
are you generic?
neil gaiman
h2g2
daily kos
the truth laid bear
reason
capitol hill blue
boing boing
nobody here




SITES I AM CONSIDERING
SEEING MORE OFTEN

3Hive
metafilter
comics
digg





REFERENCE LIBRARIES

questia
wikipedia
gutenberg
internet public library

itools references
movie database
Giga-Quotes
rare-lyrics
all musicals




AMUSEMENTS

Diaryland Times
home star runner
hell
hell too
sinfest
ill will press
the guide
purple
despair
maximum awesome
86 the onions
straight dope
something awful
glossy news
eric conveys emotion
odd todd
cracked



CULTURE

the superficial
darwin awards
this is true
urban legends
news of the weird
church of the fsm
the onion
god checker
faqs
fark
iGod
post secret
webby awards
meetup
the white house
ragged trousered philosopher
the smoking gun
the defective yeti
landover baptist
evil bible


COMMERCIAL CRAP (AND PRON)

(Note: pron is porn worth a look for amusement much more than passion, so if you see a (p) next to a link, be aware naked people may appear if you click it, m'ok?)

beautiful agony (p)
(a turn on or a laugh?)
real doll (p)
(the ultimate self-indulgence)

(or it could just be a typo)




PROMPTS
(IF YOU KNOW ONE LET ME KNOW)


Unconscious Mutterings
Friday Feast
Wednesday Whatevers
Sunday Brunch
Monday Madness
Thursday Threesom
Saturday Questions




(make it real)

PO BOX 780398
Orlando, FL 32878

send me some music
your favorite music
old or new
blissful or blue
let your message come through
and I will love you forever



last---past---next---now
�2006 Candor Communications


2005-10-04 - 10:10 p.m.

the random meatball incident (part one)


gimme that ol' time spaghetti
gimme that ol' time spaghetti
gimme that ol' time spaghetti
that's good enough for me

what?...

you'll just have to read the previous entry if you don't get it... and if you were already here and thought this entry was done and gone, well, think again (if you can spare me a bit more time and a few more brain cells)... and if you didn't return to read this and the rest of this entry, well, you don't know what you missed (fooled them {since they're not here, pronouns change, amazing language this English, ain't it?}, didn't I?...

anyway...

and so it goes, another night at the funny farm... and a long one it may be as I slept three hours today and four hours the day before and as usual, next to none over the weekend... add the fact that there's supposed to be a mandatory meeting at 2pm tomorrow and the fool who did not sleep on Monday like he usually does is gonna pay for it... maybe I'll just crash when I get home tomorrow and try to wake for the meeting... still, the best I'll get is broken sleep and nothing else accomplished... so it goes on the night shift in a world that works the day shift and does not accommodate different sleep schedules and individual circadian rhythms... conformity, it's the law!...

and now, the entry in progress...

wow, whatever have I done?... I mean, look... I very well may be a blogtard, that is, as I see it from a cursory review of the long and winding page I just asked you to look at, I write mostly for myself while begging for some attention and affection from the world at large (and small), which would consist of you, dear readers, and the rest of the universe, in that general order...

and what's good or not good is in the eye of the reader... unless you are one of those people who do not have enough brain cells turned on to think for yourself and therefore seek out others to tell you what to think and how to feel about what you see and experience in your life with your own senses... in that case, think positive...

for years I've hung out here (and there pouring my innards into the outards of the internet, making an infinitessimal mark on the landscape of cyberspace in my rather obscure and obsequitous way (with atrocious spelling because I write without my left brain most of the time because some part of my brain needs to get some sleep sometimes, or so I read in a science book once)...

and in the past week (or has it been two?), I signed up on a whole lot of blog exchange networks things that are proportedly traffic generating websites that would lead one (or many) to believe that I am actually looking for this life in black and white to be noticed, found, discovered even by the entire world of internet party-goers and most especially the blogging (diary, journal, babbling) community (we are community... I've got all my readers with me... yeah yeah yeah {everybody now}, we are community... we've got all our readers with us, yeah yeah yeah)...

even the critics?...

well no, not exactly the critics... I am not, and never have been, nor will I accept the nomination of... wait, what I mean to say is (see the permanent link below each entry called "see here now") I am seeking reviews or help in making the design or words in this perculiar piece of cyberspace property any more fancy or acceptible (or desireable, even) to the self-proposed judges of what is and isn't good out here on the internet (you can't even run your own life, I'll be damned if you'll run mind... ya know, sunshine?)... not that I fear poor judgment, or even good judgment that puts an undesireable or negative label on me (and who am I to judge judgment, after all, it's contradictory and creates unnecessary stomach acids)... it's simply that I am not into judgements or negativity or even winning anything (it's not my bag, man)...

I don't play to win or lose, I play to play the game
cuz playing is where the fun is for me, player's my name
not that kind of player, no, I'm not here to pretend
my favorite game is the kind of game that simply doesn't end
(like the song that never ends, I just want to play with my friends)

and... as I've tried to make abundantly clear in my political rants, which thankfully are few and far between, I want no part of your gaoldarn wars... I think humanity can get along quite well without me and my radical opinions or obnoxious influences... I want no part of the great self-destruction through competitive mind games and greedy consumption that has come to represent what mankind is about at the present time...

so why do I link this or this (especially since, at the moment, I have no time for checking out where those links might lead)?... the answer, my friends, might be blowing in the wind... and it might also be passing gass, which is a blowing in the wind that I don't thing Bob (as in the Dylan) actually meant, but them maybe... who knows what was being thought up or sniffed out in 1963 Greenwich Village clubs like The Bitter End with the help of the popular chemical additives at the time...

see the wind in a puff of smoke
revelate on another toke
contemplate all the words we spoke
you too might see that this world's a poke
(and maybe, in time, you will get the joke)

ah yes, give me that ol' time atmosphere (and they served spaghetti too, if you knew how to sweet talk the owners of said bohemian establishments that were ushering out beatniks and ushering in hippies while actually ushering through deep thought (not the computer, though the mice would have been most welcome) and mind blowing fiends {no, I really meant fiends, it's not a typo for friends, but I'd love to have been friends with Lenny and Bob and Jack and Abbie and all the folk I refer to when we finally get out of this parentheses) like Lenny Bruce and all the counter culture heroes you've never heard of (or maybe you have)...

but I digress as usual... and time runs out as usual... so I rush through seventyzillion thoughts and stumble upon at least one of the points of this particular entry, what have I done?...

I've inadvertently invited criticism and dastardly judgements into this otherwise narcissistic little world of words (see profile)... my literary Frankenstein monster may soon be noticed (and pointed at) by many who have not been kicked back along side of us, dear readers, as this journey unfolded in the previous thousand plus entries... some might actually show up here, take one quick sniff around, and find the crap they seek to give them fuel for yet another negative plop of poo in their own written world where they appoint themselves better-then-us which gives them the right to tell us what is good and not good in what I've recently learned is called the blogosphere...

to that I say, "argh"...

not to be a pirate or anything, but to emulate the monster's own words (does this mean "it's alive!" as relating to Dr. Frank's collection of human parts that has a strange affinity for little girls playing by ponds or... does this mean to relate to the previous entry FSM who has an affinity for pirates?... the world may never know, but if you wish more information you know how to get it)...

ah, perhaps I jest...

of course I want attention... I wouldn't be uploading my mind's ramblings if I did not want you to prove my existence by leaving my notes and comments... and of course I want affection and praise, even, because my ego is quite fragile and caves into self-doubt whenever I am left alone in my madness for too long (which is the primary reason I do not allow ego to drive the bus most of the time... even though I might suggest the reason is that it lets Libbo fondle my fantasies and expose more than you might want to see most of the time, like my lust for this butt, but the truth is out now {what?... where?... who said so?... prove it} and there's no getting it back into it's little bag... ta da!)...

and now I find this clever monstrosity that demands silence of anyone who dares to enter their arena and lose (and again, I have no time to explore more, but I shall provide a more in depth rambling expose of this entry I am rushing out to you tonight sometime later this week, perhaps even tomorrow if the mood strikes me and there is time... there has not been much time this week, in case you have not noticed)...

what with all the blog exchanges I've been creeping into in the past week (or two), there may be dastardly effects on the ionoblogosphere (not to mention the plastic iono, for those of you treasures {I treasure you, even if no one else does at the moment} who love obscure paper bag references) and yours truly (fat chance, huh?... but we can play with the drama a bit and let them believe we are taking it all ever so seriously, right?... shhhhh, don't tell) and even some gas passing (but captain, we haven't smoked the dilithium crystals in years)...

stay tuned for further updates (yeah, still more later)...

and now, being later, here is still more... and actually, after glancing around the maximum awesome site, I find a quite interesting mind... part Saint Aquinis and part Vince McMann, the write of that site (blog?) has serious mental abnormalities that I just might come to admire and enjoy (not as much as my own, but then, I am much more at home in my mind and we've even become friends, my mind and me, but the other guy is pretty weird too... just look where first timers are sent)... it appears to be a playful little community that hard core head bangers, gamers, and GI Joe fans might love, and mothers too, probably)...

and for the record, every blog exchange or community has it's supports (and not just jocks) and detractors (former farmers?), for instance, the most popular (at the moment, since none have been around more than a year) blog exchange is blog explosion and even they have a site dedicated to what is wrong... believe what you will, but best believe your own senses and experiences and just nod politely at other people's opinions... unless, of course, you really do believe humans are sheep, in which case, I'll let you know when I start my own religion so you can follow me with your tithes and devotions...

ah, only the shadow knows when to take me seriously...

in conclusion, sort of, whatever gauntlet is thrown or judgment is made, the only way I could shut down this diary for two months is to return to my older journal and continue where I left off or even to my first (there'll always be a special place for the first) that was left unfinished quite suddenly one day when I stuck up my thumb and was wisked away by the Vogons, but that's another story very few might completely understand (or be willing to sit through)...

see z0tl for further details...

in any case, this joins the ranks of the noble and many unfinished entries that permeate my own personal blogosphere and someday I hope to complete every single one (when the one who is destined to be all I ever wanted shows up to be my partner in this and every other endeavor we might explore in our shared existence through time and space and infinity and eternity and all that jazz), but for now, feel free to wait in the space provided or in your own world, should you be creating one while you think nobody's looking...

I must pause now...






. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)




see me - - - feel me - - - touch me - - - heal me


< last one < < < < BURP! > > > >next one >




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the moment

we interrupt these seemingly mindless dots for a word from (or at least about our sponsor (hmmm, sponsor?... what's the opposite of sponsor?)... anyway, now, as ado-less as possible, the word for you or andrew)...

you know that box to the right on the dland entry page called recent public entries?... what do the asterisks mean?... and the bold?...

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AND WHATDYA MISS?
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