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03:56pm 24/04/2008
mood: Hamstercon is online...
My life is slowly coming together again, and this time I've secured it with enough rope and duct tape to service a gay BDSM convention. Now that I've secured a cave in which to hide until Nature decides She's had enough of my shit I'm beginning to send out feelers to reconnect with what portions of the previous phase of my life I have any interest in keeping.

Sadly, this includes LiveJournal. Because I, despite all attempts to reform, cannot win against my blogging addiction.

On a mostly unrelated note, I have decided that all personal trainers are tools of Satan, placed on Earth to wear down the resolve of already insecure people in order to facilitate the filling of Hell with cannon fodder. When Rapture breaks out and the gates open, the first thing we will see is a mob of sweaty, screaming ghouls charging under the direction of lisp-voiced demons in tasteful workout attire.

Some of you may think I'm kidding, but those who do obviously have never received their oh-so-sadistic mercies in a public forum that seems to be made of eyes, all watching your flabby ass work off years of laziness and substance abuse.

Also, years of living in a swamp have conditioned me to expect a blistering heatwave the very moment mid-March rolls around. Yet here I am, looking at the ass end of April, and I still have to wear a goddamn jacket. In the middle of the fucking day. I find this both annoying and pleasant, depending on the ratio of sun to how much I drank the night before.

Finally, being able to smell whiskey through your pores more than 24 hours after your last drink is a bad sign. An entire restaurant of people being able to smell whiskey through your pores 24 hours after your last drink makes you a walking miracle.

Or a hobo.
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10:08am 09/11/2007
  Thank you, Daft Punk, for reminding me that unnatural electronic noises make a beautiful symphony.

Harder, better, faster, stronger indeed.


This may be one of the most amazing places I've ever been. Not for any obvious reason (although there are many), but because the entire area seems to fit me so well. Now I understand what my friends felt when they went to this and that place and came back saying "I belong there."

Three cheers to my first adopted city.
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Stoned moment #2...   
03:59am 06/09/2007
mood: Check out that hamster's eyes
...I just got finished watching the music video for "Stricken", by Disturbed.

You have got to be kidding me.

I had to clench up so hard it physically hurt to repress peals of hideous laughter. Seriously, that music video is like having a spike-like object comprised entirely of obvious metaphors vigorously shoved simoultaneously into your eyes and ears.

I may be madly in love with this song.

Haha. That was fucked up. Angst. Fuck me, what ridiculous shit.
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New story...   
12:36am 04/09/2007
  I've started work on a new story explaining the backplot of a character that has been cropping up in several of my other rough drafts and scraps recently. Now I'm looking for any input, advice, wisdom and such involving the following topics:

-Youth detention centers.
-Cult philosophy.
-Drug addiction/prostitution (entwined, please).

If you don't want to be ID'ed, e-mail me at luvtheduckies@hotmail.com. I will protect anonymity, otherwise I will give credit where it is due.

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04:25am 01/09/2007
mood: HahFuckHah.
...that I, in my ineffable opinion, have come to the conclusion that the Silent Hill game series has produced and inspired the greatest creepy stoned music ever.


Haha. That was retarded.
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01:18am 27/08/2007
  There's a monster that lives in my belly. A stillbirthed twin whose roots spread deep, enervating my nobler self to fuel its half-life. In dark corners during lonely moments he speaks to me. He sings to me a dirge for what I hold dear, the lyrics an endless stream of paranoia and hate. He makes me question what I trust and denies what feels right, this shred of a thing. A pox wearing the face that should have nutured me, his skin a braille pattern of abuse and mistakes.

He coaxes out venom and spite, fettered in the gentle trappings of curiosity. Every pause is a lie yet uncovered, he says. Relation to history only means deception, he says. You're not worth such devotion, he says.

And his laughter are the tears that seem perpetually brimming, becuase I covet what is already mine while I choke on the terror of a loss that hasn't happened.
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10:34pm 24/08/2007
  I have not slept. Instead I slammed six shots of whiskey and three beers.

Pray for me, future fiancé, because all I can think about is Empire's Happy Hour, and it's payday.

I'll do you proud baby.
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Fuck goat cheese.   
04:37am 23/08/2007
mood: Shit's all fuzzy
I just got home a few minutes ago. From work. Where I got drunk.


In other news, I smoked a bowl in under a minute. So I'm also stoned out of my caustic little mind.

So, of course, updating on here is the best thing to do.

My entire paradigm has shifted so much in the past few months. As this summer started to draw to a close, I looked back and saw how the events contained with it brought together a legion of disparate elements and made a person out of them. How, I wonder, can such a short span of time encompass so much change? Then I remember that it is the progenitor of change which I owe my allegiance to, so who am I to wonder?

Above all, I trust now. A frightening prospect to be sure, but one which I'm willing to embark upon. It's a necessary step, one which I have to try again for my own sake. Too many things are at risk for me to ignore my better parts nowadays. I have someone else to think about. I have someone else I want to think about.

Ah, that person. That one who has instigated so much of this. Where does she stand in the great scheme of things? She hasn't been the first to have an impact, but her impression has quickly become deeper than any other. And she too is no stranger to the baser parts of life, which makes my trust in her both logical and paradoxial. My jealousy has been less of an issue, despite the knowledge that her history is one which would incite it to untold levels of senseless violence. Yes, I have had my moments, but none which have drove me to confront her and scream "Where have you been?! And with what!!"

Part of that comes from the realization that she could throw the same question at me with just as much legitimacy, if not more. The rest comes from understanding that those events made her who she is, but aren't an active part of her anymore.

My views of work to come in Part Two.
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06:30pm 28/07/2007
  Brady = 22.

I suppose that makes me a solid Young Adult, but who cares? I haven't acted within my age bracket since I was 6, so why start now? I will say this, though. I'm more excited about this birthday than I was about the last one, and I'm not entirely sure why.

Oh well. I think I'll go get a tattoo.
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I think I'm a hermaphrodite.   
08:16am 06/07/2007
mood: My ass hurts.
Note to Self: Stop drinking whiskey and tequila at the same time.

...I can't remember a damn thing after 6 pm yesterday. I woke up at 5 this morning, naked, sprawled between the toilet and the bathtub.

It looked like I had mothered Eraserhead's stillborn brother. In two piles.

In other news, there's a star alignment on Saturday. I'm going to go steal a copy of the Necronomicon and hide in a closet with a butcher knife.
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Trees. Rain. Tequila.   
05:10pm 04/07/2007
mood: Prepare for a galactic assfuck
So. I'm in Conroe. Save for a brief visit some months ago, I haven't been here since I moved in with the Parkers the summer I turned 19.

Three years, and almost nothing has changed. Ah, the blessed inertia of country life.

I find myself falling into the humdrum of country life rather easily. Within ten minutes of being here, I was already feeding a cow with a Busch beer in my hand.

I've had a few more Busch beers since then.

Like nine.

The news is saturated with coverage of the celebrations across the country, and the most prevalent comon demoninator is security. In every image and every video clip there's an armed presence making itself blatantly known, as if standing in groups and looking imposing will deter dedicated sowers of chaos and terror.

Illusion of safety, anyone?

I find it bothersome that our government is using our nation's day of independence (namely via media) as an excuse to drive home how terrible terrorists are even harder. Peppered in with the coverage of celebrations are stories of criminal attacks and possible attacks to come.

Is it so much to ask that we have a break from being forced to see how frightening the world is outside our doorsteps and how amazing the Other America is for making sure we're "safe" from such violence? Or more of such violence, thanks to 9/11.

As ridiculous as it sounds, the fact that I'll be 22 at the end of this month is a bit of a shock. Granted, 22 is in no way old, but it is older. And I've noticed minute changes not only in my body but also my mind and perception that have been building for a while now, particularly in how I approach human interactions and relationships.

We interrupt this update for a special news bulletin: I just did two doubleshots of gold label Jose Cuervo Especial.

...my God. My life will never be the same. Neither will my bar tabs.

Bottom line is that I'm just as confused as I was when I was 16. I can just hide it a bit better nowadays...


...I need more Jose Cuervo Especial.
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Oh frell me running...   
04:40pm 28/06/2007
  ...but I cannot, for the life of me, get the taste of Jack Daniels out of the back of my throat. I think I mayhave consumed so much that my body now secretes it instead of saliva.

And if not, I need to find a bioengineer with low morals and extra time.

My next idea for What The Hell To Do With Myself now involves trucks. And driving. Vast distances. Because I am a Texan, and I'm trash. So I should be a truck driver for some period of time.

Seriously. It's in the Bible. Probably in the Book of Judges. Because everything true and sedentary about the laws governing our world is in the Old Testament. </kike>

But! if anyone has any pertinent information as to how a poor boy like me can learn to drive a big rig, let me know.
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02:45pm 07/06/2007
  I've fantasized more than once about how it would feel to be able to say "I'm free". I've imagined saying it, writing it, even posting it here as I am now. I never thought I would, obviously. Why would that happen to me? How can I become the statistical minority when the odds are almost entirely in favor of the house? Somehow I managed it, and now I am a free man.

Fuck. Me. I have no functioning idea what to do with myself. And it is fantastic.

I've severed almost all ties with my previous life, leaving me with volumes of space where dead social connections used to be. Instead of the cluttered Hell of hopscotch romance I have a clearly defined void where my interest terminates, leaving me free to casually interact with whom I want sans fear of some unforseen repercussion. Although I do understand the concept of caring about what happens to the people I interact with, I'm much more honest about it now that I ever have been.

For the most part, I don't.

Some people are exceptions, some are exceptions to a degree. Some fill in the opposing end of the spectrum and I occasionally fill my time with attempts to ruin their immediate lives. But most fall into the middle, I've come to see. I'm not entirely sure what that makes me as a person, but I don't see that label as being a relevant issue. I work better like this anyway. I have a clearer understanding of what I want and now I can get it without having to muck through unnecessary emotional attachment. And all it took was coming to terms with the fact that I am emotionally subdued. Possibly even stunted. I may be mentally complex, and my list of issues is staggering, but my basic emotional palette is frighteningly simple.

I don't have to lie about the fact that I don't feel sometimes. Not anymore.
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12:23pm 24/04/2007
  I wonder when it'll end. I wonder when I'll have a normal life.

I wonder what I'll face when I'm done walking the next two blocks.

I'm tired of dealing with this shit and I want it to be over with. I just hope I don't fade away.

I know you're out there, and I love you.
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11:11pm 22/03/2007
  The die is cast, and I'll have to see what happens.

I just hope I'm not wrong. Not about her, but about me.
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Theoretical crunch for the win...   
03:08pm 13/03/2007
mood: I am a content nerd.
I've had White Wolf on my mind a lot lately, mostly from coming back to the chats after quite a sabbatical. My current conundrum involves the Ordo Dracul and change. Reviewing my primary character and what I wanted to do with him, I came upon the question of what else, aside from the Coils, could espouse the philosophy of metamorphosis espoused by the OD.

My first answer, of course, was Vicissitude, arguably one of my favorite Disciplines from oWoD. Sadly, the vampiric art of Fleshcrafting hasn't shown its face in the new settings at all, which leaves me to believe that I'd have to craft it as an original Discipline from the ground up. A feat that is Nigh Unto Impossible within the boundaries of the modded chats, and a little more than Really Fucking Hard in a pen-and-paper campaign.

I can't get it out of my head, though. every time I look at the Ordo covenant book, I get the image of a triangle in my head with Protean, Nightmare, and the Coils forming the points. Somewhere, in the middle ground between the limited effect/transient alterations and broad effect/static alterations of the Protean/Nightmare Disciplines and the Coils is the justification for a Discipline which has a broad series of effects while being capable of both transient and static alterations. Also, between the two Disciplines and the Coils, you have the roads of degenerating farther into the vampiric condition (physically per Protean and mentally/psychologically per Nightmare), while evolving farther away from the vampiric condition by the freedom afforded through the myriad Tiers. Between the two is the possibility of perfecting the condition, instead of either a) sinking farther in for more immediate gain, or b) pushing away for a series of small but useful freedoms.

In other words, you have the capacity for creating a Discipline where the user is actively seeking Golconda through the uses and effects of said Discipline. Am I, then, trying to re-create the Tzimisce? In a way, yes. But how can one argue with the validity of reinventing them when their philosophy fits in so well with the Ordo? Granted, an exact replica of the oWoD clan would chafe a bit, since the Tzimisce viewpoint on change is somewhat static, but with what I've been thinking they'd be afforded a wider range on the topics of metamorphosis and evolution.

Aside from that particular piece of theory, watching the 300 while having the urge to play Mage: The Awakening has caused me to create what amounts to a magically-gifted Spartan. He's a Life-heavy Thyrsus Adamantine Arrow. Why Thyrsus instead of Obrimos? Because Spartans valued perfection of self (Life), and drew upon examples in the world around them for more strength (Spirit). Obrimos would have worked out well, but I wanted a more subtle cast to my Ultimate Warrior. The challenge now is getting him Sanctioned (Mod chat STs are notorious for shooting down combat-heavy characters. Which is somewhat stupid, considering the unnecessary number of cop/professional boxers who get through. Why be picky? Give them all a chance or none.)

I'd update about my real life, but fuck that. It goes, and nothing is on fire. No muss, no fuss. Now to ply my way into the chats and see if I can get my Spartan up and beating the shit out of someone.
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03:43pm 13/02/2007
  Working at P.F. Changs might have just led me to a new avenue in my work life. Today, I happened to wait on one of the directors of the Houston AIDS Foundation, a man I now know as Bob.

Bob, his wife and myself hit it off from the start today, and by the end of their time with me I had not only Bob's business card, but his expectation that I would draw up a resume and call him to schedule an interview for the position of Counselor's Assistant. The position, dealing mainly with first time/repeat intake and data entry, is an entry-level position that puts me on the immediate track to becoming a licensed counselor, if I so choose tobecome one (and I do). On top of that, I get to work with two groups of people that I am intimately familiar with; those who lead an alternative lifestyle, and those with HIV/AIDS.

I now have an opprotunity in front of me to do what I wanted to do when I had plans to become a nurse and later a doctor; the chance to give people hope, and make their lives a bit more comfortable if not better. I've lost to this disease. I've lost more than I care to think about to it, and I'm practically foaming at the mouth to help as many people as I can cope with being ill.

More than anything, I want the chance to hug them close and show them that not everyone views them as plaguebearers.
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Because I am an unoriginal meme whore...   
12:57pm 19/01/2007
  a. Who would people ship me with?
b. Who would be my arch-nemesis?
c. What would a Mary Sue in my fandom be like?
d. When or how did I/will I jump the shark?
e. Write a one sentence summary of the story that would win the Best Fanfic Award in my fandom.
f. What would a typical badfic involve?
g. Who would be the BNFs (Big Name Fans) in my fandom?
h. Why would my fandom end up on fandom_wank?
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05:31pm 12/01/2007
  amandaisstinky: haha i already had some cookies
amandaisstinky: but i eat a lot
amandaisstinky: haha
Jonas Aubrey: Oh come on.
Jonas Aubrey: I hear that all the time from women.
Jonas Aubrey: "I eat a lot."
Jonas Aubrey: You just ate a goddamn waffle.
Jonas Aubrey: Just one. That isn't "a lot".
Jonas Aubrey: That's not even a third of a breakfast.
amandaisstinky: hahah.
Jonas Aubrey: You need like two more, some eggs, and some bacon. Then you're good to go.
Jonas Aubrey: ...fuck. Totally want that now.
amandaisstinky: hahaha
Jonas Aubrey: Man, what bullshit. Or the woman'll be drinking a SlimFast (fuck I want to hate those but they taste so good) and saying all the SlimFast propaganda.
Jonas Aubrey: Man, fuck that. I say use SlimFast on your goddamn Cocoa Puffs.
Jonas Aubrey: And then eat some fucking bacon.
Jonas Aubrey: Shove as much protein into your body as possible.
Jonas Aubrey: And like have a camel pack full of SlimFast - no, a SlimFast/bacon smoothie - so that when you feel your body burning the last of the protein, you can just take a long pull on that motherfucker and juice it right the hell up to Warp 10.
Jonas Aubrey: ...I don't know where the Hell that came from.
Jonas Aubrey: Oh shit, I can't stop laughing at myself.
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06:02pm 11/01/2007

Someone who reads my LJ regularly better recognize that man. Because if none of you do I need to re-evaluate my opinion of letting humanity as a whole continue on unscathed.

He aspired to be a cabbage, but he was more than us all.

Hail Eris. All Hail Discordia. And you will be missed.
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