“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard: September 05, 2004

Saturday, September 11, 2004

Beach Trip: Day One

6:00 AM: Went to sleep.

8:49 AM: Woke up. (Alarm was set for 8, but it never went off)

10:15 AM: Left house. Went to mall.

1:30 PM: Left Parkersburg.

5:00 PM: Brian "Wooooo!"'s as we enter Charlotte NC. (It's a pro wrestling thing. He's such a tool.)

5:20 PM: Stopped for lunch at 'Pizza Inn'.

7:00 PM: Left Charlotte NC. Brian "Wooooo!"'s again, only sadly.

6:45 PM: We realize that our directions are for the wrong place. We adjust our heading.

10:00 PM: We stop and buy a fucking map.

12:00 PM: We find Ocean Isle blvd.

1:30 AM: We find the hotel (which was ON Ocean Isle blvd, we just had trouble finding it in the fucking hurricane).

2:00 AM: I finally hit the beach.

The rain had stopped by then, but the waves were still pretty rough. I went in anyway. Fought the surf for a while. Then I went to the shore and just watched the waves roll in.

Thursday, September 09, 2004

Well, I’ve begun packing.

At about 10 AM tomorrow we leave for the beach, and apart from probably checking my mail every so often I won’t be online for a full week.

I’ll only be checking my mail because Brian’s taking his laptop with him and he has Earthlink. See, he’s got a fantasy football team and a nasty Star Wars: Galaxies habit to support.

He is simultaneously a bigger internet addict and geek than I am.

Anyways, I thought I’d leave you guys with the story about the last time Brian and I went to the beach.


It was 1997. Four years before my medical ‘incident’. I had just finished my second year at WVU and was working for my cousin Eric for the summer at his auto painting shop. We were just wrapping things up for the day when I got a call from my uncle, Eric’s father, asking me if I wanted to fly down to Florida, pick up a truckload of stuff (presumably for his sheet metal company) and drive it back.

Given that I worked for his son I was sure I could get the time off, so I said hell yeah.

So Brian comes by the shop. He’d just finished a day of substitute teaching and probably needed to relax. It’s kinda hard to tell really, as he ALLWAYS needs to relax. I really expected him to have had a heart attack well before now.

My uncle calls back and asks if I’d rather take one of their trucks and drive both ways. That way I could take someone with me.

So Brian said hell yeah.

The very next morning we head out with my uncle’s full size Ford Excursion van, one of his cellphones, two gas cards and $600 cash. We were to get as close to Tampa as we could, stay the night somewhere, then make contact with someone and pick up the stuff. Afterward we could spend a few days on the beach and head back home.

With no map, no directions and no idea what we were going to pick up, we turned south.

There’s nothing quite like an extended road trip. The open road, changing states every hour or so, changing radio stations every fifteen or twenty minutes, it’s just good for the soul dammit.

And thank God there were plenty of decent rock stations along the way, otherwise we’d have been left at the mercy of Brian’s cassette collection which consisted primarily of shitty 80’s hair metal. Not that I don’t like 80’s metal, but Brian likes crap. He had every Nitro album (just because of their involvement in the movie Shock ‘Em Dead which sucked balls in it’s own right) AND every Frehley’s Comet album. I don’t know where the hell to find ANY Frehley’s Comet album, let alone ALL of them. Hell, I’m willing to bet that fucking Ace Frehley doesn’t even have every Frehley’s Comet album.

But the van had no CD player and I’d switched to CD’s years before, so it was radio all the way.

We noticed that every time we switched stations one song kept playing. It was either some message from the gods or a strange quirk in the satellite that controls all the station playlists anymore, but everywhere we went we kept hearing “Magic Bus” by the Who. Seemed fitting since we were driving what was essentially a small bus (insert tard jokes here).

Another thing we noticed was a column of black smoke off in the distance. We didn’t think too much of it at first, but we drove towards it for hours before we found out what it was. We got video, (which Brian lost immediately upon our return) of where the wildfires had crossed the highway. I wish I knew where that tape was too, because while it’s easy to imagine a full half a mile stretch of trees and grass burned to nothing with 4 lanes of highway running through the middle untouched, it’s quite another thing to actually see it, let alone drive through it.

We would have made it all the way there in one day if not for having trouble with the first truck they tried to send us in. As it was we still did pretty good having made it clear to Savannah Georgia.

We checked into a motel and hit the sack (yes Rich, in SEPARATE beds, you sick bastard). Plan was to wake up at 8 and drive the rest of the way to Tampa. About midnight we get a call on the cell. It’s my aunt, she tells me we don’t need to pick the stuff up after all and we should go to the beach for a few days on them.

A couple things occurred to me. First thing was that we probably weren’t going to get paid. Second thing was that a few days at the beach was worth more to me than what we were going to get paid anyway.

So we disregard Tampa altogether (good thing we got delayed and didn’t drive all the way there the first day) and headed instead to Daytona. More specifically, we hit the Shores, this island filled with nothing but hotels, convenience stores and pawn-shops, and one other item of interest; a drive-in church.

That’s right, a drive-in church.

For those of you too young to remember drive-in movies, (basically everyone reading this) You had a screen in front of a parking lot. You pull up, hang a speaker in the window and watch the show. Well this place was the same thing, but with a little chapel where the movie screen would be. It was one of the most deliciously fucked-up things I’d ever seen.

Once again, if Brian hadn’t lost the tape and the pics…

So we spend a few days on the beach doing our best Jimmy Buffet impressions. It was pretty cool as it was right after the peak season so it was still nice but not too crowded (which is why we planned this year’s trip for the time we did). We’d have stayed a whole week but we had friends in from England staying in Morgantown, so we drove all the way back just to drive from Parkersburg to Morgantown the very next day.

Some time later we found out that we were sent to gather the possessions of two of my aunt's friends.

These posessions were being held by a landlord that might have been armed and angry.

The possessions were being held by the catholic church.

They were being held because they wanted my aunt's friends to return to Florida.

They didn't want to go.

Did I mention they were Nuns?

So we were sent to bust a couple of God's women out of the fold, and we might possibly have met with some resistance.

Instead, we got a free trip to the beach.

Anyways, I think that’s everything.

I’ll have a detailed report about this trip up as soon as I get back.

Sniff you jerks later.

Wednesday, September 08, 2004

Things I found in my couch while looking for the stereo remote:

#1: Change ($1.45 worth)

#2: 1 AA Battery.

#3: That butterfly knife I've been looking for.

#4: Box of paper clips.

#5: 12 cigarette lighters.

#6: 23 Writing impliments (pens, pencils, markers).

#7: Half a soft taco (chicken).

#8: My copy of the Tomb Raider 2 Soundtrack (which could have just as well stayed fucking lost).

#9: 1 yellow toothbrush.

#10: Bacon.

Tuesday, September 07, 2004

So I woke up at 1 PM Sunday.


Well it was a combination of things.

First off, the fuse for the upper half of the house blew for the second time in the last 50 years.

Weird thing is, the last time was three days ago.

So with no power there was no air conditioner. With no air conditioner it got hot in my room pretty quick, but worse than that I had no loud humming noise to drown out the idiots that live around me.

I want them all to die.

Die in a fire.

With nails in their fucking eyes.

I fixed the power problem, but having gotten up early I got to listen to the neighbors that much more and today was a banner fucking blue-ribbon day.

The Mark family (the ones that keep banging on their power box) have been feuding with the family that just moved into the house next to me that’s been empty for the last two years.

I knew I should have burned that place down.

I still might.

Anyways, the cops have been by twice today. Actually, they stopped twice, they’ve been by like five times. And that’s with the fucking President in town.

Which brings me to that.

Yes G. W. was in town today, and believe it or not, he actually made it through his speech without inventing too many new fucking words. In fact, our local news reporters made Bush seem like a royal Shakespearian actor.

But what was really noteworthy was the protesting.

There were a couple hundred protesters in front of Parkersburg High School, where the Pres made his speech, ready with their clever little signs for when the motorcade drove by in it’s announced path.

Well it didn’t stick to the path.

No, the motorcade came in the side door making the protestors look like total idiots.

And that’s why I’m voting for Bush.

Hear me out here. The people that are bitching that Bush is an idiot just got outsmarted by Bush.

That says something to me. In fact, when interviewed, one of the particularly brilliant protestors let it slip that Bush did THE EXACT SAME THING LAST TIME HE WAS HERE.

We’ve had two Presidential visits since Reagan and these idiots have fucked up both of them. Yes, bush’s cunning subterfuge foiled the Kerry supporters yet again.

What is that expression? Bush fools you once, shame on you, Bush fools you twice, you’re a bunch of fucking idiots.

Does this mean I like Bush? No, it doesn’t. But I don’t like Kerry either. These fuckers have just tipped the scales. I’m voting for Bush (again) because I don’t want to be associated with the anti-Bush people.

So when we get blowed up, and we just might, it’s the fault of that one fucking protester.

Way to go asshole.

Dear sweet God,


"The Passion of the Clerks"
By Liza Foreman

LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) - Filmmaker Kevin Smith is set to direct his own screenplay of "The Passion of the Clerks," a sequel to his first film, 1994's "Clerks."

The sequel was written for the stars of the original film, Brian O'Halloran and Jeff Anderson. Smith also will make an appearance with longtime sidekick Jason Mewes. The story follows the Quik Stop convenience store employees of the original "Clerks" 10 years later. Principal photography is set to begin in January. Miramax Films will distribute.

Full Article

Monday, September 06, 2004

Got a post about the presidential visit on deck for later, but right now I need sleep.

Just so you know, I'm leaving the computer running for a virus scan. If you instant message me in the next few hours and you're a guy, and I hit on you, it's just my roommate Jay trying to mess with you.

If, however, you're a woman and I hit on you, that would be me.

Sunday, September 05, 2004

I'd like to take this opportunity to damn the former-Reverend Mace straight to fucking hell for getting THIS stuck in my fucking head.

Like I wasn't fucked up enough.