AlmightyFrohawk's Xanga

Monday, December 03, 2007

Mon, 03 Dec 2007 07:28:20 GMT

Today is December 3rd, aka the day some of the coolest people were born.
(2:23 AM)

Hey.

Xanga has fallen to the wayside. Like a book that fell behind a shelf and eventually right out of your memory, it left. I just happened to be rearranging and came a cross it.

I found out later that the box I was talking about, the empty one, wasn't empty. Then I realized it was. Now I'm just not so sure, I mean it isn't empty. It's just is hard to define.

You don't really need an update, I'm the same person I've been since August 23rd when I had to return the rental. Nothing has changed, except I now know what being in jail is like, my heart is really tired of not being used except for that unnamed box previously mentioned, I'm in Emporia, I lost a shit ton of weight.

Still no job, or car. I'm living in 3 different houses at any given time, my cell phone is shut off and I'm confused as to what the fuck some of my friends are doing with themselves. I mean really, at least one of them has become a complete and total zombie freak. . . I guess I don't really have a high horse to be on.
I'm trying to give up to soap box.
But you seem really . . . lost.
Is there even any of you left?

Well. . . I'll end on a happier note!!!
Happy Birthday Lucy E. Stark and Jessy L. Young.
And Ozzy.

You make the world shine!

Thursday, September 13, 2007

Thu, 13 Sep 2007 10:00:20 GMT

Tension A.K.A. My Constant State of Being
(6:00 AM)

I am a living office building. A storage yard, perhaps. Maybe even a bee hive. Well regardless, I have within me a large collection of cubical, storage units, and hectigonal honey combs, each filled to the brim with so much unresolved conflict that even thinking about one of them could unlatch pandora's box of infinite tension. Every time I sit down to write an entry I realize that I don't really want to purge my inner most thoughts in a sequitur manor.

I'm starting to avoid conversations all together because I just don't want to open any of my compartments enough to accidently have the flood of tension blow back the door, leaving me afloat in a sea of raw and unprocessed emotion.

Good news? One of my compartments, when opened, proved to be much less hectic than anticipated. It was empty, weightless, and hollow.
Thank god.

Saturday, September 08, 2007

Sat, 08 Sep 2007 23:26:26 GMT

Righteous Indignation
(7:25 PM)

Hmm.

I feel like I fell out of sync with the rest of the world, slipped into a roll that apparently needed to be filled. I jump back into the real world every now and again, trips to the hookah bar, nights out on the town with some lovely ladies.

How can I feel so free and so constricted at the same time?

Saturday, September 01, 2007

Sat, 01 Sep 2007 15:46:09 GMT

. . . This is?
(11:43 AM)

I don't even know anymore. Anymore? I never knew.

This is nothing new to me, hell, far from it. This is actually pretty standard practice if you look at my track record. It never made me feel dirty before.

This doesn't make any sence.
(I'll add pictures and such later.)

Friday, August 24, 2007

Fri, 24 Aug 2007 06:59:14 GMT

Greater Heights
(2:48 AM)

I'm just so disappointed, in oh so much. I'm reading this book called The Fuck-Up, which is a pretty good read by the way, and as I read it I think "what the hell is this guy doing?" Then I put the book down, come back to reality and realize that pretty much everyone that I know is this guy.

We all have our own pattern of self-destruction, like dogs scratching themselves raw we all adhere to set flaws, stepping on the same nail time after time. Why do we repeat ourselves? What is the point of having a memory, having a past if we can't look back on the given data and realize "Well shit, bob, this just isn't going to work at all." We swerve left when we should go right, every time.

We keep running into the same walls.

Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Wed, 01 Aug 2007 15:55:42 GMT

In the Port of Amsterdam
(11:34 AM)

I'm standing on the edge of change. For the first time in a long time I have so many choices set out at my feet, so many paths I could take. I'm excited, jubilated, and filled the the brim with trepidation. I have no idea where things are going.

And I like it.

Monday, July 23, 2007

Mon, 23 Jul 2007 21:23:31 GMT

My Body's Not Even Cold
(10:XX PM)

This was way longer then I thought it would be, so here is a Table of Convex Curves.

Bullshit? -No!
Get off the Horse, Answer the Phone
Mexican Homosexuality
Lo! Tony.
Cortney Cameo
Cooking with Laura
P.S.
The Shattering of a Glass Hat

I don't really have time for bullshit anymore. I would rather just have good times, chat with friends about totally pointless topics for hours.
So maybe if some people would get off their high horses, and others would just answer the phone, my social life could be totally drama free. I'm not going to waste my life fighting over the most fleeting shit. It takes two to tango, and I'm just not going to fight with anyone, it's so damn pointless.
Well, things have been mostly good, Alison called me the other day, that peach, and we talked for nearly an hour about nerd things and the death (Murder/Suicide) of Monique's car. Speaking of Monique that crazy spick, she made it snow in Argentina. It hasn't snowed there since 1918. I haven't seen my other brown man servant in a while. Gay pride, which was almost two months ago now that I think about it. Speaking of Mexicans and gays, Monica Soto, I drip for you.
Tony, oh Tony, what is wrong with your eye? I'm happy that you've moved back, but between your damaged eye, and the Black One's missing tooth/chipped teeth/rearranged grill, I'm starting to doubt your humanity. It's bad enough you do the man love with The Black One, but now your a Zombie too? Fix it.
Cortney!!! I almost forgot to mention how much I love Cortney.
I love Cortney.
Laura.
Hugglekisslebutterbean.
P.S. When I spell checked this, it asked me if I ment "Monkeys" when I wrote "Monique's."
Take that darky.
(Samantha is looming over my shoulder, with a knife, whispering the lyrics to devil music.)
*Spint*
*gurgle*

**EDIT**
Oh.
mycar.

Thursday, June 28, 2007

Thu, 28 Jun 2007 00:05:06 GMT

Herds of Untold Nasties
(11:15 PM)

Things have been pretty good.

I'll add some stuff later.

**EDIT**

So the plan was to go home, scan some drawings, and put them on here today, but I never did.
So fuck.

Wednesday, June 06, 2007

Wed, 06 Jun 2007 00:11:20 GMT

Brandon+Vodka+Truth or Dare=Heterosexual Events That I can't talk about on the Internet
(8:04 PM)

My computer is getting worked on by one of the Hanson brothers, so I haven't been able to get on the internetetetetet. Life has been going pretty good lately, lots of hanging out with Cortney, which is super awesome. Last night we ended up having a race through the Nam fountain like we were on a mid-nineties Nickelodeon show. Cortney and I totally owned Ethan and Josh, even before we started cheating. We all fell and almost died.

I need a new tire.
But other then that, I love life.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Tue, 29 May 2007 12:57:34 GMT

Why are my hands shaking?
(1:10 AM)

Entry was lame.
Umm.

I need a job.
Or a new life.

I'm in mad crazy love with Cortney J.
I've seen her more in the last week then I'd seen her for months.
Which is beautiful.

**EDIT**

Last night was yet another amazing night at Le Bon Docteur's. Frisbee is a fun sport that I'd never really played before, but Nichole's crazy ass decided that we needed to at 12 something in the morning. Then an old lady yelled at us.