wondering if the whole of art is just nothing more than the hole of a whore...

devastated that nelly doesn't answer my email.

crushed she isn't getting any from simon.

http://members.tripod.com/~RidinBareBack/index.html

running little programs that could wreck a database, and realizing my brain is fogged from being stuffed with burrito, but going ahead anyway

ah well there's always backups

how many days has it been since the going out of business sign has been up. i find that more and more omelets as time passes. but having lost track of that long ago,all we can do is continue with the croissants

almost forgot my alternate email

[email protected]

Listening to New Sounds
Trying to figure out what to get my brother for his birthday
Wishing I hadn't eaten so many jelly beans

realizing that i've been working between 50 to 70 hours a week since i took this job. fucking ridiculous. 12:15am and i'm still at it.
at least i know what i'm getting my brother for his birthday on the 14th. i'll get him the same thing he got me for my birthday.
not a damn thing.
bastard.

my work efficiency would be highly improved if i stopped absent mindedly surfing around this site.
but i keep pointing-and-clicking... maybe these are the kinds of addictions you get as you near 30. subconscious surfing for inconsequential raving and blather. depending on how rich everyone is, i may quit my job and start a 12 step program...
maybe a high-dollar spa tucked away in the rockies for cyber-addled sorabjiites. i'd run it out of nyc, of course. that way i could avoid dealing with the potentially dangerous while still keeping the cash flow going...
i'll implement a research group and have my people contact mark's people.

this could be the ticket.

Mark has people? I wish I had people.

[email protected]

goddamn.
just did some recalculating and have figured out i've worked over 70 hours a week for the past four weeks straight.

fuck this.

you can have my people.

Wondering what/or who/one has to do to gert a Sorabji.com e-mail address. I simply can't become Queen of The World w/out one.

Umm, Mark? Can you get off the desk w/yr vestial virgin long enuf to hook me up?

Sex on the OfficeCam -- & I missed it!

testing, testing, testing..always testing shit..anything and all. It takes 53 pistachios to make a grown man feel oogy and seven more to make him lay down.

you know the best part about pissing people off?

it's when they pretend that they couldn't care less, and then make subtle and vague jabs in a futile attempt to get back at you or get a rise out of you in return.


you know, like passive aggressive.




it's so cute.

sad. Travelled to NJ yesterday to say goodbye to my 94 year old aunt who is dying. She has cancer of the liver, kidneys and lungs, and has about 2 weeks to live. This was the single most emotionally traumatic event thusfar in my life. Somehow, I managed not to break down in front of her. The floodgates still have not opened.

This is a woman, who at Christmastime, was still completely with it, still her old "Anti-Clinton" self. She was elated that I had at longlast jupmed off of the Clinton bandwaggon and was now on "her side." She called him "that damned fool." She had the best laugh, but it's now silenced. She can barely manage a cough. I'm just thankful that she knew who I was. She even somehow got out the words, "you've lost weight haven't you?"

I've had many family members and friends pass away. But this is the 1st time, I've actually knowingly said goodbye for the last time. My mother thought I was crazy for driving 8 hours roundtrip knowing I could only see her for a few short minutes. But as hard as this was for me, I wouldn't trade the experience for anything.

Goodbye, Nannie.

[email protected]

happy.

even though the ex called me repeatedly after my bed time to bitch at me for not spending enough time with her.

"you hardly ever spend time with me."

"yeah i do."

"not enough"

"maybe that's because every time i talk to you you're bitching at me about how i don't ever talk to you."

"my mom said you'd do this."

"do what?"

"say things to make me hate you."

"you're so rational. i need to go to sleep."

"OH! see? you never have time for me."

"i have to work tomorrow. i'm always asleep now."

"what were you doing earlier?"

"i was talking to ian"

"you spend more time with ian than you spend with me!"

"i -live- with ian, freak."

"OH!"

" besides, ian gives better head"

"OH!"

"i have to go. goodbye"





fucking bitch.

after the third call i demolished the phone with a hard throw towards the wall.

now no one can call.

fucking bitch.

watching the ospreys devour endangered species outside my office window.

Sorry about your Aunt Jimbabe. I think it's great that you said goodbye to her no matter how long the trip was. She's going to a good place and she'll be in very good hands. Most of all, she'll be at peace and suffer no more.

I'll get on ICQ tonight if you wanna talk Jimbabe.

[email protected]

back.

don't know why I haven't been around here for so long. I guess sometimes dealing with your shit's just gotta take priority.

possibly getting sick.
Which would put a major kink in the activities of the next 72 hours, as I have a bachelor party tonight, my defense tomorrow afternoon, my defense celebration tomorrow night, and then an all day music fest saturday.. All of which i don't care to go through sick. I guess when I go home, its time to chug down the vitamin C.

[email protected]

peeeeNIS PHAHAHAHHA

fuyakckfy, fua.

ufck ytooooo toooo.

toot!

revenging elongated testicle trails on the belly of mama's abdomen. Ohhhh hairy brown jugs.
With two pert nipples like rubber balls perched on the top of each one.
The swells and the curves.
Must beat off.
Can't fight
fever.
Ugggghhhhhh........

Hoping PJ's Nanie will pass easily/in her sleep. And hoping I never, ever live to be 90+ years old.

I tried unsuccessfully to call Nate earlier. Now I know why I cdn't get thru.

(I thought demolishing the phone after an argument was a girl thing. I've never heard of a guy doing that. Do you throw dishware too, Nate?
You & Ian must tip the maid very well.)

thinking that since Nate IS free and single, there really are no reasons why he can't be her big daddy.

Finally.

See, good things really do come to those who wait.

lemon tree very pretty
and the lemon flower is sweet
but the fruit of the poor lemon is impossible to eat
Repeat, until magic happens.

preparing mango-pineapple salad for office event tomorrow. They seem to eat a lot. Often, that is. I promised a long time ago to work back in the hell hole Saturday. At the time it seemed so remote, now the day is almost here. I really hope some French people come in, I have some pent up misinformation ready. Oh, about the Yosemite murders??? The latest is that a gang (at least four people) of meth heads is involved, someone has confessed, both men and women took part, it was worse than we ever imagined, the victims were specially targeted and watched before being taken. The suspects are in custody on another charge. I just know we are going to find out they were on bail or parole when they committed the crime. I just know it. Local meth heads. Fuck.

watching the beginning of "taxi driver".
i like the music that flows in the intro while the credits roll...
not so much the syrupy porn horns, but rather the moody, unsettling baritone and the frantic upright bass.
it's good. real good.
the visuals and the distortion... the colors and the tension... the way the sound echoes the dualism inside travis's head.

martin scorcese did a lot of drugs and it shows.
i remember lying in a hotel somewhere and watching some movie or special or most likely one of those "behind the scenes" shows that are the only reason to watch VH-1 in the middle of the night.
he was being interviewed and was talking about how he and robbie robertson's lives had fallen apart during the same period of time in the late 70's. their wives had divorced them and thrown them out of their homes. they decided to share a house together and try to help eachother make sense of the wreckage.
apparently that involved lots of booze, pot, psychedelics, and bolivian marching powder (one!two!three!four! kickonebackandchopsomemore!)

the opening scenes are like the slow-motion visions you see while your senses are under the influence of prolongued chemical derangement. the kind of keen perception it takes to capture those sublime moments on celluloid is the kind that usually comes from personal experience.

"may 10th. thank god for the rain which has helped wash away the garbage and the trash from the sidewalks...
all the animals come out at night: whores, skunk pussies, faeries, buggers, queens, dopers, pushers, junkies...
sick, venal.
someday a real rain will come and wash the real scum off the streets..."

i bet rudolph giuliani and travis bicket would've gotten along really well.

it's been almost 10 years since i last saw this film.

too long.

today marks 51 years since the evil empire assisted in the disposition of 700,000 Palestinians for the sake of forming a jewish state.

prepping myself for my master's defense in two hours. I really can't wait to get this out of the way. Gorgeous day out, I should be wear shorts and my anit-gulf war t-shirt, but instead i must wear the monkey suit.

[email protected]

wishing semillama good luck and preparing for a day off with cleo. we're going to go to a party tonight. cleo will be wearing the white kitty hat and the red mules with feathers.

[email protected]

Agatha, you and Cleo almost make me want to let some parasite attach itself to the wall of my uterus. But I will wait until you can put them in the microwave on high for a timer period dictated by how old you want them to be when they come out. I want, say, the Cleo model aged 4. When the technology is available, I will offer you scads of money for some of Cleo's cells" no pain involved, just a nail clipping or something. In the meantime, I think I will go looking for a kitty hat and some feathery mules, size 10.

[email protected]

Anyone know where this is?

http://www.artbell.com/images/bigfootsign.jpg

[email protected]

wondering what the hell he's doing here.

...regretting apologizing to Nate who merits no courtesy.

meritting no courtesy.

now wondering exactly what made me merit no courtesy this time.


i understand, this kind of thing happens every so often, but usually there is a blatant reason for it.


i hope itdoesn't have anything to do with my statement about the ethnic cleansing of the holy land.

pondering the improbability of a pale sasquatch soul queen...


naw, man.

i don't think so.

Leaving.

questioning the validity of my umpteenth outbreak of genital warts.

pain



coffee



aspirin






help

Wondering who was that non-Mark looking guy in the crimson shirt on the OfficeCam.

And telling Margaret to start saving her pennies. In 10 yrs. time/you'll be able to purchase a cloned baby-version of almost anyone you want. (But the nuking them-til-they-reach- the-age-you-want- them-to-be thing might take a bit longer to perfect.)

Thinking I'd like to get some cells from Nate & Swine & clone myself a gorgeous sex-crazed boyfriend w/a loony sense of humour who makes a lot of $$ in the high- tech industry/drinks
like a fish & is wicked on the dance floor. And hung like a horse.

But I'd still have find someone to raise him. And wait for him to grow up. By which time I'd be almost 60.

Damn -- why does everything worth having take so damn long to get!?

Maybe I'll just lock Nate & Swine in a hotel suite in Paris for a weekend & have my way w/them instead...

a Master of Science in Industrial Archaeology.

Time to celebrate!

[email protected]

Semillama!
congratulations!

R.C.!
calm down!

preparing to spend another friday night connected to the god damned network and working my ass of when i should be partying my ass off.
i rationalize all this bullshit by remembering that at 28, i've already spent over half my life focusing my energy on debauchery, so i should be able to suck this up for a year or two.
after that, the money i have left over after buying toys will go to funding a six month trek to somewhere in the world i haven't been.

fuck investing in stocks.
i plan on investing in my own ass.

Congratulations, Mr. Semillama, M.S.

R.C., i'll be glad to mail you a box full of toenail clippings and dead skin.

enjoy.

I wonder how�s it going to be when it goes down
How�s it going to be when you�re not around
How�s it going to be when you found out there was nothing
between you and me, �cause I don�t care
How�s it going to be?

How�s it going to be when you don�t know me anymore?
How�s it going to be?

Want to get myself back in again
The soft dive of oblivion
I want to taste the salt of your skin
The soft dive of oblivion,
oblivion

Imagining what it would be like to have Luke Perry rip all my clothes off, pull my hair, slap my ass a few hundred times, call me his bitch, then fuck me on hard, cold ceramic tile floor.

[email protected]

being assaulted by the brazilian cosmodemonic vibrations of the soulfly; whipped into maniac frenzy and raggamuffin sensation. no more work. no more work. no more twenty-first century moneylovelock-chained-up-monetary freedom cuz the last poet of the apocalypse has already been strung up and sold at the marketplace, motherfucker. all your words, pain, torment and horror are met with deaf ears because the ineffectual attack on the juggernaut only culminates in silent objection as the wheels crush you and feed your flesh to the gears that efficiently discard the contents of your skewed mind to the jackals at the end of the world. and they don't care about your passion; it;'s all big mac french fried fast food grub to the blood-lust hell queen at the bottom of your soul. don't talk. don't speak. don't quietly phrase spells of enlightenment in the shadow that darkness makes. because in the end you're a tool of the machine. it's all survival of the illest in these last days. the love you trust will put you on a roller coaster that will ride you down to the rapture, child.
and instead of attaining salvation, you'll be forced on your knees, fed into the pipe, and smoked up like a drug.

thanks for visiting.

have a nice day.

whispering to my rectal savior. Naatttttteeee.
Yowza. I need a hunk of some blazing foresking.
Chomp,chomp,chomp...