Green Ironies

static:
2004-06-13 - 6:33 a.m.

...the not-so-silent moment between question and answer.
...psycologists, astrologers, fortune tellers. Every era has it�s methods of divination. And at the end of every era, the diviner is found to be false, hunted and destroyed, so that the people will be able to more completely worship the divination of the next era.
...daydreaming about daydreaming about the stories that these ceilings will tell when i'm gone with a girl that existed yesterday, but not as i imagined her. semi-logical dissagreements in response to my bullshit theories make the best late-night-early-morning snacks. a girl whom will never exist again, in quite the same capacity.
...the longer two theorists sit in a small room together, the less they agree. so it follows that if you have two minds in your brain, and not a lot of free room in your brain, you eventually cannot agree with yourself. i imagine that if you try to squeeze three minds in a brain, the result is exponetially worse.

you know you're in maine when...you're wiping off your windows in the traditional fashion, when an ex-navy buff runs up to you, sprays white stuff all over your windshield and THEN explains that it WILL come off, and they used it in the navy to get really big bug stains out. AND he's just trying to be helpful, in his own senile sort of way.
you know when you're in vermont when...you're driving 15 mph below the speed limit because you're paranoid that the cops will pull you over just to strip search you, and you creep up on a car being driven by an old lady that's actually going slower than you are.
you know you're in massachusetts when...you see these three things along the side of the highway, in reverse order: an empty pickup truck with the tailgate down; a barbaque grill fully assembled and ready for action; a man running the opposite direction, pretending to flee for his life, but really just calculating the value of his insurance policy.
you know you're in new york when...so there's this girl next door, whom i have temporarily forgotten the name of, who showed up the moment i got home, and asked me to go to a bar. we went back to my place and watched the oldskool cartoons of the teenage mutant ninja turtles, and i guess it was sorta odd because i seemed more into that than cuddling with her on the couch, which never actually happened. i am such a dork.

Let�s pretend that there are monkeys, which have such little intellect that when they are told to rearrange pictures into a chronological order, the choices with which the monkeys establish that order are largely random, or at the very least do not pertain to to the subject manner the obsever is evaluating. Let�s also assume that the observer has a method of prescription, that the monkey will end up taking some drug or another based purely on how it answers picture-aranging questions. It may be argued that it is beneficial to distribute ideosynchrasies on a population, for it is the only thing to which Darwin and The Word Of God both agree, �breed diversly and numberously and your type will survive�, but try explaining that to the monkey that you�ve just drugged for no good reason. Further, there is a stigma that you need to be highly intellectual to study psychology, which leads to a superstition that if you can be easily evalued by a psychologist, that your intellect must be low. Rather than be insulted, people will try to insist that their intellect is high, or at least beyond the test, which leads to all sorts of odd behaviours that have nothing to do with the condition of the person. Instead of using the Rosach test to evaluate what a person can see, maybe we should be evaluating what they Cannot see, which will determine how far they are from the norm without insulting their individuality or intellect. The fingers of a psychologist are merely the fingers of another human being, and thus are neither exact or sanitary enough to meddle in the workings of another human mind (without causing serrious and permanent damage).

Seratonin, the chemical which man fights for, though he knows not for why he feels he must fight.

You cannot be sure that an answer to the question �how do you feel� will be responded to in a manner that is coherent to you, if you do not speak the language of the answerer. this does not mean that the person answering the question has no feelings, or has disjointed, malformed, disorganized feelings or thoughts. It does mean however, that you are not always asking the question you think you are, and that you may not yet have the experience with which to preceive the answer.

Smeagol was in my appartment in troy for all of 36 hours. I took him out for a second walk outside, and he scampered off, as if to get me back for his distaste of the first part of the car ride. He doesn't know the area, and i really doubt he will return at a time when I'm home, which is not often. I have searched and found nothing.

Recieved 20$ from a stripper this morning, while I was unzipping my pants. Now, for the rest of the story. One of my coworkers, Erik, was worried that there was something going on at the bar bar that his girlfriend [cherry'(hollie)] dances at, because she refused to let him come see her at work (I later found out that this was only because she would have felt uncomfortable because she would think that he would be uncomfortable seeing him work, even though he has said many times to me that it wouldn't make him uncomfortable). So after overthinking the situation without talking to her, he gets paranoid that she's cheating on him, and I agree to go to a bar with him after midnight, when our shift gets out. We head back to his place, walk his dogs in a park that used to be part of the erie canal, and he says he'll pay for cover [+5.00$]. When we get to the door, his girlfiend says that he's her boyfriend (he gets in for free) and that i am her brother (i get in for free), so the cover charge gets handed back to Erik [-5.00$]. Still feeling that he owes me something, he buys my first beer and a Bud for himself [-0.00$]. We sit in the front because the fringe seats are taken. We watch some girls dance, and his girlfriend comes on, so i folded up two dollar bills into airplanes for tips [-2.00$]. But before she takes her top off i excuse myself for a cigarette, thinking it indecent to stare at my coworker's girlfriend. He buys another Bud, which i proceed to drink when he's not looking [-0.00$]. When he catches me drinking it (the bottle being emptied) I buy him another [-$3.50], and a run-n-coke for myself [-5.00$]. And then a vodka-n-coke [-4.50$]. Erik and I loose a game of pool because i suck [-0.50$]. Another vodka-n-coke [-4.50$]. After the bar had closed, Erik and i stood outside smoking and talking to a couple of the dancers, now in normal clothes. Lots of jokes and unrebuttled rebuttles. One of the strippers['lacey'(daniele)], it is eventually realized, had locked her keys in her car, so i offer to see if i have a jimmy in my trunk, which i don't, because i'd cleaned my car out two nights before and left it in my house. I bring back my AAA card instead, and she calls them. We wait around and talk some for another half-hour until Erik is driving home and the bartenders are about to do the same, when it is decided that I'll give her a ride to her place, pick up her keys and drive back. Unforgettable lines of the conversation while driving: "okay, i take it back, labs are NOT stupid"..."the guys are sort of pathetic, and the girls work their asses off, which just doesn't seem like a good combination"..."you think we should call AAA and tell them that you're not there anymore?". We get back to the bar and she offers me 20$, which i refuse, and go off into the bushes to take care of a post-drinking urination-situation. She takes the opportunity to leave the 20$ in my ashtray. So after spending 20.00$ at the bar and some gasoline, i had gained 20$, so basically i paid 2$/gal to see titties.

NoSaleReason: 'no sales' are when you have to open the register to get out change or count money or correct business transactions. since we got these new registers, we have to sign the receipt for each no sale and give a reason; if you write "stealing money" for a reason, you get fired.

NoSaleReason: a man came into my gas station and wanted to pay for 5$ in gas, but instead he asked for 10$ in nerkles. I very nearly gave him 10$ worth of nickles, and by the time i had figured out what he really wanted, i wanted to give him a nerkle twister for being incompetent.

NoSaleReason: Vince (the kid of my fellow employee, Sharon) threw a penny at me. I was forced to retaliate.

NoSaleReason: 2-week notice. (I will be quitting soon if I can manage to find another job, any job.)

Narrator: Sir#2 was out sick today, and Jessica couldn't be found, so Simon was chosen to fill in.
Sir#1: I really like yer accent. mind if i sit here a bit, and listen to you talk? maybe rhub me nipples a bit while i'm at it? see, i got this problem...i can't lick me nipples; *various attempts*...
Simon: ...
Sir#1: You know why whe don't have sex anymore? it's too bloody expensive. Both of us have to be in jhobs all day in order to pay back our skhool loans fhor an over-inflated and underappreciated education, and shupphort the exponentially increasing older population of invhalids. That's why they call it "the wherkin' clhass" insteadathe "the fhuckin' clhass". And let's face it, sex is nhot a steady jhob. The only people that have the time to breed in this country are the real snobbish folk that own the oil companies, who kill their own people if they get a chance, and the people that nhever pay their taxes to the oil companies, tryin' to keep the IRS away with a shotgun...
Simon: ...
Sir#1: So what's about whe say "fuck iht" and get ourselves shotguns? you are obviously an intelligent sort of boffer, and i can drive like hell. We won't pay our taxes and live out of my car, doin' all the things that god put us here for. 'course, whe'd still have to pay for gasoline, and i'm not one for stealin' gas, becasue the unfortunate fellow sittin' at the counter who's ghonna be blamed for loosin' the gasoline, whell ya know he's not ghot time for sex because he's wherkin', and the most he might have time for is to get a hand job in the public restroom when he's pretending to clean it, and then only if he pays himself to do it...
Simon: ...
Sir#1: So, what's the chance of ghettin' yer phone number, eyh? Aw c'mon, i sat here and listened to myself piss an' moan for the last two hours, that's ghot to be wherth somethin'. I mean, the least you can do is say shumthin'. It's common fuckin' churtosy.
Simon: ...

NoSaleReason: Sniffing all-purpose cleaning solution with one of the managers, because someone pointed out that it�s very fruit punchyish.

NoSaleReason: Using the industrial stapler on a 12pack of Coors Light (largely unsuccessful).

NoSaleReason: I sensed that I needed change.

In other news today, I became a resident of Troy, New York. My taxes and car insurance will skyrocket, in the hopes that my tuition will go down to a reasonable amount.

Revelation: I have been noticing lately that i meditate a damned lot. People believe in a higher power because it gives them something else to do. To a significant extent, meditation-time replaces sleeping-time. Or they believe because they are lonely. It doesn't seem to require an odd sort of position, just a location for which I don't want to soon leave. Or because they have made mistakes, broad important ones, with their lives. This, combined with my occasionally shaved head, makes me want to get a wooden bowl and orange robe, and live among the statues. But mostly, because they are afraid not to.

made tie-dyed shirts with mitch and his girlfriend at her new apartment. loads of fun was had, and we got the shirts back today. Mitch's is nicely stained, with a sort of professional-tie-dyed look, if such a thing is possible, and mine has big booby-indicator corcles on the chest/back (they were supposed to be the eyes to a face).

it's a different game every time you play!