...how tha fuck do we 'posta keep peace?
Seriously. My apartment is fucking freezing. This probably has something to do with the plummeting temperatures, my shattered kitchen window, and my malfunctioning steam heat. Yeah, that'll do it.
Rather than reading Heart of Darkness, or Sister Carrie (both of which are due to be completed by tomorrow), I'm trying to write another (hopefully more coherent) entry on this much neglected allotment of cyperspace to which I stake my claim. That said, it's going to be a busy semester.
On top of being freezing, my apartment is in pretty sad shape. I've got one thing hung up on my walls: an LP (Oasis' The Masterplan). I'd like to get some more and hang them up around the place, spaced out evenly and breaking up some of the white space, but I don't have any more frames right now. I'll have to get some. Add that to my list of things to do that I'll probably never get around to. I've got a growing desire to settle into a place. This place is fine, but I know it's temporary. I don't know if it's a part of growing older, or if it's some sort of effect from the winter weather, but I'm recently feeling very "nest-y" (to steal a term from my girlfriend) in that I really want a more permanent living situation. The trouble with all of this is two-fold: 1., I don't have the money to buy a home; and 2., I'm in a very temporary situation as far as livelihood is concerned in my second of four semesters in a master's program. My roots, for now, will have to remain firmly ensconced within the recesses of my shoes, as I remain unbound and free to roam as life would dictate.
One day, I'll have walls covered in LPs, a garden that needs tending, and a driveway to wash my car in. I look forward to this day.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Who got the hooch, baby?
Who got the only sweetest thing in the world?
Eighty-six four hundred seconds in a day.
It's celebration time in Tennesseeee.
Coffee flavored soda pop bottle.
A lioness in the wilderness.
Limitless potential.
Chris Young.
I feel like the Easter Bunny in the Dr. Pepper commercial. Buggin' out. There's a dog on your roof, man!
I need groceries. Meat and cheese and milk and bread.
Bang your head; metal health'll drive you mad.
Eighty-six four hundred seconds in a day.
It's celebration time in Tennesseeee.
Coffee flavored soda pop bottle.
A lioness in the wilderness.
Limitless potential.
Chris Young.
I feel like the Easter Bunny in the Dr. Pepper commercial. Buggin' out. There's a dog on your roof, man!
I need groceries. Meat and cheese and milk and bread.
Bang your head; metal health'll drive you mad.
Sunday, January 3, 2010
Like a lion
In November of 2007, I bought a 2001 Chevrolet Impala LS from a used car lot in North Lima, Ohio. It was the first "nice" car that I'd ever bought, and the first one that I'd ever had to finance. Two weeks after I bought that Impala, a rotten tree near the driveway of my rented home in Johnson City, Tennessee fell over on a calm and clear night, splitting my car down the middle, and crushing it severely. It's luck has not improved since.
In 2008, a gearbox in the transmission shredded, and the entire thing had to be replaced. Luckily, I purchased a warranty with my car that covered the brunt of the damage to my wallet.
In January of 2009, I made the dumbest mistake of my life and attempted to drive home from a bar in Salem, Ohio in the midst of a drunken black-out. Thankfully, the police of Perry Township stopped me before I could do any damage to myself or anyone else and I was arrested and charged with an OVI. I was forced to forfeit my license for six months, during which the Impala sat and waited.
In the closing days of December 2009, I hit a large deer while traveling nearly 80 miles an hour southbound on route 79 near Weston, West Virginia. The deer exploded on impact. I didn't feel a thing. I didn't even move. My head never jerked, my foot never even moved toward the brake. There wasn't time for that. A deer in the lights. A thud. Another thud on the roof. A rain-shower of blood and guts and gore. Realizing what happened, I pulled off to the side of the busy highway. A concerned witness pulled off on the other side and asked if I was okay. I was fine. Thankfully, the airbag hadn't deployed and caused me to wreck. I got back in and continued down to the nearest exit to inspect for further damages.
Somehow, despite the considerable damage done to my grill, hood, and roof, the radiator and everything else remained in tact. The only fluid dripping from the car was blood. The only thing out of place was the heart of the deer, lodged behind my smashed grill, where it stayed for the rest of my trip.
In 2008, a gearbox in the transmission shredded, and the entire thing had to be replaced. Luckily, I purchased a warranty with my car that covered the brunt of the damage to my wallet.
In January of 2009, I made the dumbest mistake of my life and attempted to drive home from a bar in Salem, Ohio in the midst of a drunken black-out. Thankfully, the police of Perry Township stopped me before I could do any damage to myself or anyone else and I was arrested and charged with an OVI. I was forced to forfeit my license for six months, during which the Impala sat and waited.
In the closing days of December 2009, I hit a large deer while traveling nearly 80 miles an hour southbound on route 79 near Weston, West Virginia. The deer exploded on impact. I didn't feel a thing. I didn't even move. My head never jerked, my foot never even moved toward the brake. There wasn't time for that. A deer in the lights. A thud. Another thud on the roof. A rain-shower of blood and guts and gore. Realizing what happened, I pulled off to the side of the busy highway. A concerned witness pulled off on the other side and asked if I was okay. I was fine. Thankfully, the airbag hadn't deployed and caused me to wreck. I got back in and continued down to the nearest exit to inspect for further damages.
Somehow, despite the considerable damage done to my grill, hood, and roof, the radiator and everything else remained in tact. The only fluid dripping from the car was blood. The only thing out of place was the heart of the deer, lodged behind my smashed grill, where it stayed for the rest of my trip.
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