“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: August 06, 2006

Saturday, August 12, 2006

Well fuck me.

So Remdog from www.TerriblyWrong.com came home this week and we've been hanging out quite a bit and from him I've been learning many, many things about Photoshop. Things that you people will soon be able to appreciate when some of my new art is ready to hit the web.

This has helped me maintain a good mood.

I've paid most of my bills, applied for a new job (which I'll likely get, more on that later) and I discovered that my amphetimines have helped me lose 16 lbs in the last two weeks.

These things have helped to put me in an even better mood.

So tonight Remdog and I go out for Chinese food (which ALLWAYS makes me feel better) and I decide to show Remdog where my brother now lives. Now this was like a quarter after nine and I understand that they both work, but when we got there the front door was open and the house was all lit up and since Remdog hasn't seen my ape of a brother in many years I figured maybe we should say hello.

I gotta stop figuring things.

I even tried to play it cool. I understand that they have an 8 month old in the house, so I tapped gently on the door rather than ringing the bell because I knew my brother was close to the door and would hear it, thus keeping the baby asleep.

I completely forgot about the dogs though.

So I tap on the door, ever so gently, and the dogs go monkey-shit. Fortunately, my brother was able to get to them before they woke the baby up. UNfortunately, he didn't get there in time to prevent the dogs from waking up his wife.

I'm not exactly certain why I'm do doggedly determined to fuck up every time I'm feeling good.

So my brother invites us into the basement room and we talk for a few minutes before he has to go calm down the wife over my inexcusable acts. I mean, I do have to admit that dropping by to see my own brother with a mutual childhood friend at 9PM on a Friday night is a pretty damn assholish thing to do. Yeah, I know, what the fuck was I thinking right?

Did I mention she's pregnant again? That may have had something to do with her mood.

Anyways, my brother comes back and we talk some more, but the tone is a bit different as it always is right after he gets scolded, and eventually (as I'm headed towards the door because I can sense trouble coming at this point) the wife comes downstairs. I wave and say hello. She gives me a look that I recognize from nature documentaries on cobras and then dissappears into the laundry room.

I inch closer to the door, mindful of the fact that, like most predators, her vision is most likely based on movement, when she reappears. Maybe I imagined the smoke, maybe I didn't. In hindsight, maybe I should have ran for the door. In any event, she turned to me and said:

The Wife: "Gee, thanks very much for coming into my house uninvited in the middle of the night and waking me up."

Me: "Sorry."

The Wife: "You know, some of us have to work tomorrow." (She loves to continually point out my serial joblessness. You know, so I don't forget.)

Me: "Sorry."

The Wife: "And some of us are pregnant."

Me: "Yeah, well that's not my fault."

The Wife: "WHAT!?"

It was at about that point that I kinda tuned her out because I've pretty well heard everything that comes next. Ok, perhaps I didn't think our visit all the way through, but if not for the damn barking dog she never would have even known we'd been there. I forgot about the dog and I apologized and I meant it sincerely. Either accept my apology or don't. Don't expect me to eat shit over it.

So after turning to my brother and telling him (in the manner in which one would talk to a child) that he had better do his laundry the next day, she stormed upstairs like Hitler into Poland.

Mental Note: Remember not to make fun of Mel Gibson in front of her.

At this point Remdog and I make good our escape, making planns over our shoulders to meet with my brother later in the week. Of course we won't be able to see him as he'll almost certainly be grounded, but it's nice to make-believe.

By the way, thanks to everyone for expressing thier support and/or concerns over my new diet plan. Not to worry guys, all is well. As I stated earlier in this post, I've already lost 16 lbs in just two weeks. If I can keep this up I'll have no trouble making the goal set by my surgeon which means that on September 27th I'll finally have a surgery date set. Granted, that date will be like two or three months later, but still, I'll have a date set and that feels pretty damn good.

And nothing nor nobody is gonna fucking bring me down. No matter how fucking hard they try.

Monday, August 07, 2006

So like a day after my last post Ihad to postpone my trip to see the surgeon because I discovered I hadn't lost enough weight to get my surgery done. My wonder diet they provided me with didn't do shit so I went back to my local doctor to refil the drugs I was on last time I actually lost weight.

After I explained how the diet wasn't working the nurses aid said "Well let me check the book and see what else we can give you..."

Turns out what she could give me were amphetimines.

Yeah, so I've actually been getting quite a bit done lately since I'm no longer sleeping or eating and I have lost a noticible amount of wieght. I think this is it. I may finally be on my way to putting all this crap behind me.

I also put in some job applications at the hospital near my house. Seeing as I'm one roommate down it's either find me a job or get someone else to move in. Thus far nobody has been stupid enough to do so. Adam (from the video last post) has given me a 'definite maybe' but that's it.

Also, we updated www.TerriblyWrongOnline.com the other day. I did the comic strip with my new art stuff and it came out pretty good, but in addition Mace asked me to see if I could crank out an article. So with a head full of speed I sat down and typed out a quick rant and mailed it off to him without checking any of the specifics.

Not long after I get an instant message of a little angry face from Mace who then instructs me to check my word count. We usually like to keep the articles between 800 and 1,000 words. Mine was 2,122. But they were a pretty solid 2,122 words so they were all posted and as of this writing they're still available for reading.

I think it came out pretty good. I just went on about the first thing to pop into my head and since I haven't loked at any news show for quite a while I went off on Illegal Immigration which has surely lost some of it's relevance by now, but fuck it I wrote it anyways.

That's really about all that's going on here at the moment. I've just been cranking out a lot of artwork. Some of which I'll post here, some on TWO and some ot it somewhere else...