Archive for April, 2003

And now for something completely different…

I need a displayable talent besides self-destruction. You know, something I can do to express myself more betterer. I mean, when you drink for every emotion, people can’t really tell whats running through that head of yours. Then again, you might be running around their house in a thong, so its all relative.

Don’t drink and draw.

He may not look it, but this cat is the most devious villian in videogame history…

He just sits there, biding his time, holding (not waving mind you) his little flag… until you hit him


Evil pussy.

Oh yeah: Once I rent Solarbabies, I really don’t see any point in learning anything else. I mean, finding that long lost game (City Connection) and movie (Solarbabies) from my childhood were apparently two of my main motivations in life. I’ve found my White Whale, and gutted the sucker, now its like… uhh… 60 more years of playing City Connection and watching Solarbabies? Yay.

The movie I always half remembered: Solarbabies

And the Nintendo game: City Connection

Kevin Spacey should cover the R. Kelly Ignition Remix. That would make my freakin day.

Sent to Adam of


Its a holiday, word.

Receieved from Adam of


ha ha ha, I celebrate vodka every day. I got drunk off barton’s 37 straight days, no lie. peace

I hope the Love Shack is sterilized regularly, lest one of their vocally talented mutant cross-dressing children emerges to dominate the free world.


Dear Frostburg State University,

I am writing this letter to let you know I contracted SARS, commonly referred to as Severe Accute Respitory Syndrome, from a toilet seat located in the bathroom accross from room 615 in Westminster Hall. I will be suing you for the sum of One Hundred Million Dollars, as my attorney informs me this is the amount I should expect to be awarded by a jury of my peers. I look forward to seeing you in court. I have enclosed a picture of the toilet seat in question, but it may be invisible, as I am lazy.


Charles E. Myers

We live in a world of broken dreams. Every derelict home was once shiny and new, every manufactured item someone’s dream of a better life in the city. Our own existences, merely our parents shattered dreams of one day having a happy family. It is into this world we are thrust, and with our parents’ values imbued. Our parents, merely relics, long since realizing their own dreams dashed.

And it is to them we look, and others, to show us how to live, and love, and what to strive for. For some, I suppose, this is enough. They, like our parents, are content to be fed these ideas and swallow them whole. We, on the other hand, see this system as the perpetuation of the world as it exists, and so see a system which must be destroyed.

And always how hastily we move and change, as if trying to live our lifetimes in the span of a year. No great dam capable of holding back the rushing waters was built in a day, nor does a seed aspire to be a tree the moment it reaches the Earth, it merely exists, and through existence becomes.

Just as we are free of Apollo and Set, Zeus and Athena, so must we strive to be free of Christ and Sin… as if the religious beliefs we hold today are any less steeped in magic and mysticism as the religions we are ‘enlightened’ enough to scoff at today.

And is it any wonder we have so many who consider themselves great thinkers, yet so few great thoughts? Or so many great activists, yet so little great action? Great thinkers see the world, and are left with such a bitter taste they chase it with self destruction. Great activists are so scattered and without leadership they nullify one another as though colors of light combined.

I look around dismal small towns, decrepit reminders of some temporary long since forgotten success, with the absolute knowledge they cannot last. To think the country, the world, comprised of such areas is to look upon the world as a house of cards and wish, above all things, a mighty wind to blow.

I will not live in a world of broken dreams, and I shall try to cut back on the haste of my personal action, that I may grow as the seed, with many branches. That those first few branches might strengthen and fork, and fork in turn, until I am such a green and bushy site none take notice that my roots have spread across the land beneath their feet. And so must go the revolution of society, lest that be my broken dream, my unfulfilled legacy.

Easter Gone Awry, courtesy of Steph

One day there was a boy named Billy. In school Billy’s teacher said he could be whatever he wanted, but Billy really didn’t want to be anything. Billy was good at fishing though, not that he liked it very much, but he decided to become a fisherman. Billy went to fisherman school, but the more he learned, the more he just couldn’t see himself as a grown up fisherman. Fishing was something people did for fun thought Billy, how could he do that every day? When Billy told his parents about his situation, they asked him what he was going to do instead, but Billy didn’t know. Billy was having an identity crisis, if he wasn’t Billy the Fisherman, who was he? Just Billy the boy who didn’t know what he wanted to be? Well, the next year, deep in debt and alone, Billy shot himself in the head after snorting a large amount of cocaine off the rear end of a prostitute named Wanda. At Billy’s funeral, which no friends attended, Billy’s old teacher said he would’ve been a great fisherman. Wanda confirmed she used to be a man. The end.

Guess who 😉

I managed to track down the History of my Knife Ring.

KodaDragon: sometimes my computer will just die

KodaDragon: Its all “Wawhat? ARGH”

thecharmingguy: hahahaha

KodaDragon: Thats my Switch commercial

KodaDragon: Sometimes like, I’m playing my MP3s, I’m surfing the net… and with my PC sometimes it was all “Wawhat? ARGH”

KodaDragon: My Mac is just like “Bleewoosh”

KodaDragon: My name is Emory

KodaDragon: And I do too many drugs.

I am the model of society. My life is just the expression of the basic desires of my individual cells. What do they want? To perform their predetermined roles in exchange for survival, just like so many people, content to get by today to get by tommorow. Hell, my peers want to become something greater about as much as my taste buds do. I say fuck that, let me be a polyp.

What I’m eating for Dinner.

Added the ability to comment on Editorials, whenever I’m bored enough I’ll add the ability to comment on everything on the rest of the site.

You’ll notice a new section at the top called Dierdre… the other day Brandon and I went to an auction and I picked up a black family for 53 cents… photo albums, undeveloped film, 2 diaries, etc… so basically every day I’m going to transcribe one of Dierdre’s diary entries. I should note however that the first page says, and I quote, “Do not read this or you will die a slow and painful death”, so I figure its got to get interesting soon.

Enjoy =D

I’m doing a slight page overhaul, so the links at the top no longer work.

Uhm, I deleted all previous posts. Whoops 😉