- Bomb Texas for freedom -

2/28/2007

Oh yeah…shoulda stayed

File under... Day to Day — mylo @ 7:41 pm

So I have some free time before class, and I stop in one of the compy rooms. I check my normal dailies, and one of them is somethingawful.com

I look at the awful link of the day, and something is amiss. I feel a shift in the universe. It feels familiar, like one of those dreams that you are walking into your apartment and there are more rooms. Like that kind of feeling.

It’s fucking Nero Larp. Something is screaming in my head. Then I look at the address

PO Box 377, Tannersville, PA 18372-0377

NOOOOOO!! I lived about 2 or 3 miles away from Tannersville. Oh god, there is going to be people I know there. There has to be.

Yeah there is Yep there is. Shit.

DAMNIT!

And there were others, But you’re going to have to guess who. However, I know I shouldn’t be surprised.

Those woods were cold.

They were abandoned.

They could make anyone snap, and well since they were into D&D, and I was a regular video game nerd they were going to be the first to go.

People often don’t believe me when I say the poconos were a hell hole. They often ask why I had to run out of there like a cat with it’s tail on fire. I tell them, that it was leave or turn into …..arrgh!

Yeah.

Bee like that guy.

(har har)

My god. The sad thing is, this isn’t the first time this happened. I had close friends turn into cosplayers, but I’m not too sure what’s worse, biting off of frodo, or dressing like a gay futuristic samurai with pointy ears and a tail.

That’s your call too.

But if I can pass a message to the guys I know who are in this.

Please, just stop. You were much too smart for this crap 10 years ago, and now that you’re pushing 30, I think it’s about time to let drop. I know some of those nerd girls are slammin’ but they have boyfriends, and low self esteem if they are letting their men do this to them.

You don’t want it because at all times you’re two meads away from ye olden baby daddy with some trailer skank.

And one more thing. Pennsylvania is part of the middle states region, not New England.

I thought at least one of your AP classes I was too dumb for would say something to that effect.



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2/25/2007

Brain is fried

File under... On Writing — mylo @ 2:03 am

I’ve been writing for several hours now. I can always tell when it’s a good jag because it feels like a hangover when it’s done.

My muse is like Kramer from Seinfeld, and I’m Jerry. I can be chilling in my apartment or whatever, and he just bursts in the door. After he grabs something in the fridge he sits me down at my computer and says “giddy up!” in that shaky spastic way of his.

I giddy up and 7 to 10 pages later, I sort of snap out of it feeling woozy.

It’s odd shit. I often thought that my muse would be more like Kate Winslet in some bodice ripper movie that I would have to find her, and save her from running her horse off a cliff.

Nope, I’m from NYC and my muse has to be Kramer. Although I did have a choice of such luminaries as Mae West, Jackie Gleason, and Tonto from the original Lone Ranger TV show (he’s from Brooklyn, actually they all are). Although I sort of wish my muse had that tough guy Humprey Bogart deal. But I don’t think I would get any work done, because we’d smoke lucky strikes and drink scotch while making tough guy looks at everyone else in the writers room.

Kramer though, I suppose it could be worse. It could be Mr. Costanza.



2/24/2007

For the last time YES!

File under... Day to Day — mylo @ 8:22 pm

Allen : Are you still going through the whole, I don’t exist, all of this is bullshit, and clowns should be rounded up to serve time in concentration camps?

me : Yes.

Allen : Is it going to ever stop?

me : Dammit Allen how many times must I tell you clowns are…

Allen : …part of a left over WW2 plot that Adolf Hitler hatched to weaken our morale fiber and to make us easier prey for invasion. When Nazi Germany fell they created an alliance with Australia, to create their own organization, whose only purpose is to recover the corpse of Bonkers Bannana the first clown so they reap its unholy powers and to start and a new world order where we will all be forced to wear big shoes, red noses, and drive stupid little cars. They were involved with such incedents such as the bombing of the USS Cole, the depletion of the ozone layer, 3-mile island, and the rats in the taco bell on 6th avenue. Our only hope of saving ourselves is forming an Anti-terrorist squad with a crack team of super specialists with really cool codenames.

me : and?

Allen : There must be at least three ninjas, a pirate, a pacifist medic, and a gorilla with a floppy hat in the team. For they are the only things that stand between us and annihilation.

I meant about the you not existing thing.

me : Always Allen, always.

As a side note. It’s been 20 years since I watched that for the first time. My god is it ever so screwed up. How could they let little kids watch that?



2/23/2007

Night at the movies

File under... Day to Day — mylo @ 10:41 pm

I saw Ghostrider with a few friends. Yes it’s horrible, I knew that going in, and I felt filthy on the way out.

However as I’m getting popcorn, there were a pack of girls infront of me. One gets her popcorn then promptly faints banging her head against the counter.

Her friends handle it non-chalantly explaining she has low blood sugar. Ok, so the counter-girl being nice hands the fainter a soda. It’s my turn to get my bucket of oil and salt, but no. One of the fainter’s friends cut ahead of me. Leaving that poor girl to stumble into the theater by herself.

To add insult to injury she was a little picky with the popcorn “oh no I don’t want the bucket, I want a smaller one, that’s too small. Oh ok. Can I get more ice, are you sure it’s diet?”



2/22/2007

Conflict, Conflict, Conflict

File under... Day to Day, Conversations — mylo @ 7:31 pm

Today at work…

Boss one is fighting another boss.

Limp wristed crowd pleaser in the red circle is fighting the punch drunk obstinate SUV driving guido-gorilla in the red circle.  Neither of them has been here for more than three months.

I’m fighting crime, broken links, and bad logic (in a game and with school).

The Mike Tyson quotes are spurring our imaginations, “I think Mike would kick the shit out of a gorilla”

“No way.  The gorilla has 200 pounds on him, plus the reach and the power in his arms would destroy Tyson.”

“What about a grizzly bear?”

“Versus?”

“The gorilla.”

“Oh my god that is genius!  Absolutely fucking brillant!”

So about that crap about me dying at 32, ain’t happening.  At least not until I see a gorilla kick the shit out of a bear.  Best punch-up evar!



Lent, brought to you by Mike Tyson

File under... When Celebrities Attack — mylo @ 12:47 am

“All praise is to Allah, I’ll fight any man, any animal, if Jesus were here I’d fight him too.”

Although Iron Mike, is a crazy fucked up human being, who really does deserve to be committed for the rest of his natural life.  He really is pretty fucking funny sometimes.

“I paid a worker at New York’s zoo to re-open it just for me and Robin. When we got to the gorilla cage there was 1 big silverback gorilla there just bullying all the other gorillas. They were so powerful but their eyes were like an innocent infant. I offered the attendant $10,000 to open the cage and let me smash that silverback’s snotbox! He declined.”

Priceless.



2/20/2007

Open Letter to Williamsburg

File under... Exodus — mylo @ 7:42 pm

Dear Burgians;

I know some of you are reading this because the phrases “Hipster Jackass”, “FuckingOne warning pricks! Hipsters”, “Williamsburg Douchebags”, “Cocksmoking, spoiled, trustfund brats” are coming up quite a bit in this site’s stats. I can only assume it’s you guys looking for yourselves with those phrases only to be ironic.

I know you fucktards (whoops sorry force of habit), I mean talentless (shit sorry), umm TALENTED clones (dammit I was close that time), slightly creative insightful fuc—- (whew!) people. Love your adopted home, and I can see why.

But here’s the deal, I’ve been looking for a home there for the past two weeks, and I’ve been dealing with realtors flakier than a bowl of raisin bran. God knows I loves me some raisin bran, but I’ve been away from my real home, my birthplace for slightly too long.

Now I am aware that some of you that have followed the site knows I am actually from south brooklyn, I was born in coney island, lived in gerritson beach, and lived in Bensonhurst. I know I should want to move back to my roots.

But I don’t, mainly because Gerritson Beach is a literal cesspool, I’m not interested in dealing with the russian mob anymore in Bensonhurst, also I’m not welcome in several neighborhoods in that area. Also I have friends in your direction, and if I don’t hang out with them, at least it won’t be too tough to make new ones there.

Also I know I could move into other neighborhoods such as Bushwick. I know I can get an extremely phat place in Bushwick for almost half the money as I would get in the burg. However this leads into another issue, they are fighting against gentrification with force. I admire any neighborhood that is willing to do that. So much so, I am willing to leave them be, and forget entirely that I ever thought of moving to a beautiful loft apartment with a roof deck and jacuzzi tub.
Anyway Williamsburg, I only have so much patience and sanity left, and you can ask the people who know me that live in your utopia that realistically I really am crazy as all fuck. Sometimes I black out and I wake up covered in blood. That’s only if I’m off my meds.

I’m running out of them too.

So if one of you dicks don’t abdicate your nice one bedroom apartment with exposed brick, and hardwood floors, I will be forced to abdicate it for you with a baseball bat.

It’s your choice.  Make it soon.



2/17/2007

Two down another million to go

File under... Exodus — mylo @ 7:11 pm

Besides m. openly mocking me “Mr. I’ll never move to williamsburg. Mr. I hate everyone there in a 10 mile radius. Look where he is today!” Yeah yeah yeah, dollhouses and jungle gyms. In my case italian pork stores/ real butchers, italian bakeries, and the knowledge I can shake a hipster down for their milk money won me over to Williamsburg.
Today was uneventful. Although I would like the place that I saw if I was just starting out, and the realtor(s) were nice (they really seem to be nice down there I hate to admit). It took me 20 minutes to think that, I don’t want that apartment.

I’m going to end up paying over a grand for less apartment than I have now and for more neighborhood. That’s not happening. This time I’m looking for an apartment for a loooonnggg haul. I plan to die in it you know, so I want it to be nice.

I want my death bed to have more bang per dollar than a regular studio!



Scum thy name is realtor

File under... Exodus — mylo @ 1:53 am

I had two appointments this week to look at two seperate apartments.  Both are in (Uggh I feel like such a sell out) Williamsburg, two different realtors are showing me the places.  One was for Thursday, and I’m all ready to go.  I arrange to leave work early.

I’m all psyched thinking that this might be it, this might be my port after a long stormy trip.  I’m going home, HOME!  Don’t you people understand!!!  I just want to go home!  I want my 718 area code, and my zip code that begins with 112.  I want 100 years of personal history back at my fingertips again.  I want my edible non-franchise pizza, I want to hear the clacking of an elevated line, I want my real blue collar bars back, I want to cross the east river to get home, and easy access to rockaway in the summer.

I swear sometimes I just want to throttle someone whose there for “the scene.”

Sorry, you know how it is when you’re so close to something.  Oh anyway, why williamsburg?  I’ll be off of the L line which is easy to get to work, and the beach.  I know more people there now than I do in my old south brooklyn haunts.

Well people I can stand for more than 10 minutes nowadays anyway.  No wait… shit that drove me insane, 5 minutes.

One hour to go, and I get the call.  Cancelled.  Ok that’s annoying, she says she’ll check her schedule and call me back.

I had to call her back yesterday, and schedule for sunday.

Ok so determined not to have that twice in a row, I call realtor 2.  I CONFIRM date, time, and address.  Looks good, and I might even have company to check this one out.  I’m having a shitty day at work and this is the ultimate test, if I feel relaxed when I walk in I know this the one to consider.

I get a call from some guy who I can barely understand.  He tells me that the super is off to the bronx with the keys.

I’m fuming, and I reschedule for today (saturday).   FUCK!



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