channel b

stop and breathe

Wed, 21 May 2008 03:28:23 GMT

Time has passed and some things have changed. Not enough things perhaps, but several of the right things have changed for me to build an anchor to continue on. Yes, that is vague, but it encompasses personal and professional levels, which I don't wish to detail, for personal and professional reasons.

The day job burdens of the past 5 months are done with and my summer schedule opens considerably. There's a lot I want to do, both professionally and personally and this looks like the summer to finally make these goals happen. But first a few days off to relax and clear my head and then a willing return to the drawing board.

Livejournal

Fri, 18 Apr 2008 18:09:35 GMT

Yes, yes, I'm still here, I'll never leave you. My love may be flaky, but it's like a buttery rich crust on a warm apple and you can't get enough of it.

I know, I know....

Sat, 08 Mar 2008 03:48:35 GMT

We don't talk much anymore and the distance is deafening. But I still love you and think of you often.

Lately...

Fri, 16 Nov 2007 13:36:41 GMT

Crazed clients club cool creations.

Blogged with Flock

June 29th 7:38pm

Sat, 30 Jun 2007 02:01:36 GMT

I want to touch your iPhone.

?

Tue, 01 May 2007 01:15:15 GMT

Will you be my cake bitch? I call, you bake, then come. Or we could rearrange the order, I'm flexible, but at some point there would be cake.

Separation

Sun, 18 Feb 2007 03:11:38 GMT

My drugs went from $7 a bottle to $30. What use to be $14 is now $60. Shit like this is what causes road rage, pimples, impotence and putting a bed sheet and pretending you're a superhero.

Fuck a duck, you know?

In December, Michael's brain unplugged from the internet and from him.

"What the fuck?" said Michael.

"No more," said the brain, "Not another goddamn whiny, extra intimate blog post. I can't take it, I'm outta here." and began leaking out through Michael's ears, eyes and nose. But not the mouth, because it knew exactly where Michael had been with that mouth.

"Whoa, wait, you can't go, I need you!" cried Michael, frantically trying to stuff brain bits back in.

"Nope, sorry, no can do. I'll leave you some muscle control, control of your bowels and the memory of your puppy love in second grade, but everything else comes with me. You can stick around and read that crap, but I've had my fill," and continued leaking.

"Where will you go, what will you do?" asked Micahel, no sobbing and erection less.

"I dunno, maybe learn the piano, build a nice house."

"And what about me?"

The brain quivered in gooey imitation of shrug. "Don't know, don't care, you haven't been using me for much."

"But it's tax time!"

"Yeah, but you're poor."

"What the fuck, my parents left me a..."

"A what..." smiled the brain, oozzing and flowing all over the kitchen table

"A...a..a.."

"See, I took everything!" Michael's body slumped in the and quietly let out a fart. The brain chuckled, noting it didn't need that ability. It oozed off the table, down to the floor and flowed over into the bathroom off the living room. It looked in the mirror, studying itself intently. "Watch out ladies," it thought "The brain is on the prowl tonight!"

That there Exodus sure is purty.

Sun, 22 Oct 2006 12:41:29 GMT

So, humanity breaks camp and heads back out on the longest road trip ever.

That was great. No fantastic. This show is just simply one of the best shows ever put on TV, bar no. And what’s even better is that it’s Science Fiction, but kind that doesn’t get bogged down with the science techno babble and instead concentrates on people.

Basically, this was the great big space battle, standard stuff in Sci-fi flicks, but like most things in BSG, it wasn’t point. There were tons of great little moments, little threads that just make it so much more than sci-fi soap opera. Tigh killing Ellen and him breaking down over it. J and the way he did it! AND SHE KNEW IT! He knew she would want a drink from him, so he just lets her take but you never saw him poison it. You’re just left thinking “Hey, why isn’t Tigh drinking, he ALWAYS drinks” and why is Ellen looking at him like THAT and then it dawns on you and then you think about all the shit he’s been through and that she's down and what’s happened to him (the limp and missing eye) and it just breaks your heart. Really great acting by Michael Hogan and Kate Vernon.

Poor Starbuck. After risking so much for Kacy and somehow, someway giving herself (if just a little bit) to Leoban and then finding out it was for naught: that mindfuck is gonna stay with her. No, Kara, that’s not your baby, Leoban was just messing with you. She’s going to kill him lots and since he can’t really die, she’s just going to be reminded of it all over again.

“I’m ready to go now.” says Laura “that’s MY ride” Roslin. Perfect, perfect way for the President to regain her power and ship. Or IS she President? Probably by default since Baltar is on a road trip and Tom doesn't seem to want it anymore. Still if she has to run, she’s got a great slogan: “I told you not to go the damn planet.”

Really great effects, but damn good cinematography to, like when Galatica jumped into the atmosphere and released all her fighters in blazing ball of wrath and vengeance or when she was going down for the final count, only to be saved by the returning Pegasus. Yeah, you knew it was going to happen, but damn it just looked good. We're talking movie quality award winning effects here

Heartbreaking though. Tigh and Adama’s reunion and the gulf between them as Adama is regarded as hero while Tigh is ...well, not regarded, hell not even noticed. Didi you notice Gatea in the background, just sitting down broken on a Raptor. Starbuck’s REALLY crazy now, the Cyclons finally have Boomer’s kid, Baltar is on the loose with a Six and the human race is on the run again, this time permanently.

Yeah, everything is back the way it was, but nothing will be the same again.

Waiting...

Sat, 21 Oct 2006 03:11:07 GMT

...for the day it all comes down.

for that moment when dream steps into reality and the decision comes: fight or flight.

For years now, ever since the robbery on Southside, I've been waiting to meet the man in the dark, the man who walked into my home and stole things when I was only ten feet away. I'm waiting to face him and myself for not taking care of things, all things, everything that's gone wrong.

I'm waiting to see if grow or crumple, waiting to stay, waiting to get up, waiting to leave, waiting to kiss you NOW, when I feel it rather than rationalize it.

But how long can you wait, really? How long till you're reborn?

amen

Wed, 28 Jun 2006 02:19:55 GMT

The word of the day is legs.

So lets go upstairs and spread the word!

Dancing in the halls.

Wed, 28 Jun 2006 02:13:44 GMT

The walls was white and naked, the floor brown and plain.

“This is it,” he shouted, “This is home!”

She looked around, seeing the blank shit and the 30 more years she would have of it.

“Isn’t this great,” he almost shouted, “Our own home finally!” and practically danced out room and down the hall.

She followed him from cell as he planned their prison.

Public enemy no more

Mon, 19 Jun 2006 01:54:49 GMT

Some of you will get this.

Overheard in an upscale coffeehouse as background music: Public Enemy's "Fear of a Black Planet" (Amazon link to CD, it was track 12)

No one, i mean NO ONE, batted an eye at this. Hell, it took me a minute to realize what I was listening to.

yep,but

Sun, 18 Jun 2006 00:20:29 GMT

Istillhaven'tgottenanewkeyboard,whichisok'causeallidoissurfpornthesedays.

nothingbettertodoatwork.

Sitstill

Mon, 05 Jun 2006 04:03:23 GMT

IhadapostIwasgoingtowritebutthespacebaronmycomputerisn'tworking.

Iblamerepubliciansforthis.

That war

Sun, 04 Jun 2006 03:21:34 GMT

Don't mind it a bit. Hell, we got this military, might as well put it to use. Don't matter who started it or why, we just need to smack someone around every now and then, remind'em what we can do.

And don't give me that "it's taking our best and brightest" shit. Fuck, you ever seen a useful 18-20 year old. young, dumb and full of cum, hell, killing each other might be the best thing they could, help weed out the weak ones. What else are they gonna do, go to mall, play them damn video games, get drunk and have sex AND NONE OF IT WITH ME.

If Jones knew what he knows now when he was 18, he'd never would have had the damn kids.

On the front porch, with a shotgun

Sun, 04 Jun 2006 03:15:03 GMT

Old Jones got silly with a bottle of wine and a large watermelon. What the hell, it was green and smelled fruity and it was last call anyone.

See what marriage does to you?

AIDS is my passenger

Sun, 05 Feb 2006 05:03:34 GMT

After a while, I said fuck it and ate the virus. It tasted like wet toast, no crunch, grain and water. Two Lane grinned, and Tommy stared past me into the desert. The wind walked between the three of us, leaving cold footprints on our hearts, despite the fire.

“How far to the city?” I asked.

“How fast you going?” replied Tommy, still staring into the distant. Runs often left him distant since Sasha.

“Fast as I can without drawing attention.”

“’Bout half a hour then. Virus’ll start kickin’ round the same time. You’ll need to find a target fast.”

“What about animals, will it work on them?”

“Yeah, but then you won’t win the bet.”

“Winning won’t help if I’m dead.”

“Won’t kill you, it’ll just make you feel like it is for a day.”

“Tell that to Sasha. Or Gab.”

Two Lane grinned wider. “They stopped moving, trusted too much.” He looked over the fire at me. “YOU don’t do that sorta thing, DO you Kevin?”

I stared back at him and then got up, let the fire warm me for a minute and then headed to the jeep with mutated strain of AIDS working starting to work its way in. To beat it, to kill it, I’d have to find one of those rich fuckers who’d have all the latest antibiotics, the shit that kills cancer, STDs and almost anything else. Get close enough to put’em under, get some of that super blood and inject myself. Bingo, stay alive, win cash. Or I could be in serious pain, maybe die. ‘Cause Two Lane liked to make it interesting, make the viruses just a little too strong every now and then. That’s how Sasha and Gab bought it. And Two Lane knew his shit.

Stealing me

Mon, 23 Jan 2006 01:49:14 GMT

I don't know when Tina got the her ports put in. High capacity, 1T Ethernet, about an encyclopedia every .005 seconds. This is how she stole my genetic code.

She used the glucose from her blood stream to power a low power WiFi network, grounded by her skeleton, which was also tricked out. Pimp my ride indeed.

All she had to do was get close enough for long enough and she could copy everything. So she wore something low cut, tight and promising, the usual stuff that would work on a guy.

When I woke up, my credit cards were intact, everything in the house was in place. But copies of me were stored on her hard drive and waiting to be sold on the black market.

Finding nightlights

Sun, 22 Jan 2006 02:00:33 GMT

My 3rd girlfriend was a nightlight. She hated the term, but it was true. Her entire body had slight green tinge to it, which was damn strange on a black girl. At night, she glowed ever so slightly, a bioluminescent light, thanks to messed up genetic experimenting on her mom. She hated the tinge, the glowing, the name, everything about being a nightlight.

I just wanted to get in her pants, nail the freak, you know. It took a while, lots of romance, patience and listening to her bitch about the perverts who wanted to nail her, how everyone reacted to her and what not. Bidding time, talking sweet, giving flowers, and trying to keep my massive erection from showing.

She finally let me spend the night, after a particularly good bit of sweet talking and heavy petting. The lights stayed on, to hide the glow, at first, but gradually she didn’t care and the lights went out and then light sprang forth. She glowed everywhere, soft curves hiding, revealing, bathing me in green warmth.

There was no regret as I closed the door behind me and headed out into the blue, seeking more green.

appliances

Wed, 04 Jan 2006 03:40:46 GMT

"Don't do it man, she'll just break your heart" Ted the coffeemaker said.

"But, she's looks good man, REAL good." Bob the electronic grill replied.

"Yeah, I know, but she's toaster, man, A TOASTER. She never cooks the toast the same way, you think you have chance? Man, she's a snake, almost worse than the food processor."

"Thelma?! What's wrong with Thelma?"

"Oh for christs sake Bob, she chews things and spits'em out. LITERALLY. Don't go near her."

"Well, gee, who should I go after."

"The blender man, THE BLENDER. Push those buttons, get her going, she'll be purring for you."

"But isn't the blender like the food processor? They both cut things up?"

"Yeah, yeah, they're sisters, but the blender doesn't go spitting it back out, keeps things cozy."

"I dunno, the toaster..."

"Forget the toaster, she's not for you, alright? It's the blender you want, okay?

"Well, she is kinda cute."

"It's the blades, the sparkle sets off her casing."

"Yeah, they do! Thanks Ted, I'm gonna go talk to her right now!"

"There you go stud, go get her!"

Bob bounces over to blender, while Ted watches, while over in the corner, the microwave watched jealously.

Maintenance notes

Tue, 03 Jan 2006 02:45:31 GMT

Slightly new look, based on some default templates. Eh. Will become a paid member again, an mess with templates. Must add icons too. and fiddle with new LJ features.

And I have to think of new name for the journal. thinkingboutit is fucking pretentious.

edited to add:

so much for slightly new look. quickly grew to hate it, so back to the original for now.

Taking stock

Sun, 01 Jan 2006 03:25:09 GMT

Yes, it's one of THOSE end of the year posts.

It was quite a year, though I didn't know it. The changes were subtle or so obvious as to be blinding. I had thought it was terrible year. Had wanted to start making Top Ten lists on various subjects, best comics, best movie, best books, etc, etc, but I couldn't think of much. This is because I didn't read a lot of comics or books, or see a lot of movies or listen to a lot of music.

In the background is the SciFi channel's "Twilight Zone" marathon.

S basically I didn't do a lot of living this year and just kept up a slow jog on the treadmill.

But I liked the stories I wrote in the beginning of the year, so that makes it ok. Check the archives to see what I mean. Sure they're raw, not even edited, but theres pride when I reread again this evening.

For now the child is sleeping, the wife is watching tv, the world is turning and I'm moving forward.

See you on the other side and stay healthy.

15 minutes

Thu, 30 Jun 2005 02:24:28 GMT

The dark swallowed him and the sun spit him out.

"Good morning sir, " said the evil henchman

"What day is it?", the man asked.

"Sir?"

He looked away, down the street and became very still.

"What. Day." quiet, through teeth.

A pause while evil henchman gathered his balance on the mental tightrope.

"It's Thursday, sir."

Stone became flesh and his body relaxed.

"Thursday, huh. Hell of a day to come back from the dead."

"Yes sir."

"Anything happen while I was dead, evil henchman?"

"I realized I was gay sir."

"Could have told you that."

"Yes sir"

"Anything else?"

"Tried my hand at writing sir."

"This before or after you realized you were gay."

"After sir."

"Had to go with the stereotype, huh?"

"It just worked out that way sir."

"Uh huh. So how did the writing go?"

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes. Yes you are."

meanwhile...

Wed, 29 Jun 2005 02:40:52 GMT

Terribly tired, want to sleep, and have felt that way all day.

But it's night now, and isn't this the time when stuff goes down? it's the magic time, where soundchecks pause conversations over your third beer or 2nd shot, the curve of glow you feel inside is just barely visible, just outta the corner of your eye, just as long as you don't turn to look at it. The glow that comes from everywhere, above and below and straight from the horizon you can't see at night, only feel.

The conversations are stupid and intelligent and foreplay and you'll spend the rest of your life trying to remember every word, and you will, but never at the same time, just bits like grapes from the vine, clutters and clumps of sweetness.

Jamie

Sun, 15 May 2005 15:39:20 GMT

On Thursday, Jamie, bored with the spaceship, retured it to Area 51.

The soliders were professional with their gun pointing and the base commander had the most perfect shade of red in his face. Jamie was unfazed, having been impregnated by aliens (the sponge not working on non carbon based lifeforms), and gotten great tans near Mecury. What were they going to do, kill her? It would save her the trouble of finishing the divorce proceeding from Bob.

The questions finished and guns lowered, Jamie retrieved her car from the parking lot and headed back to San Diego, where the land kissed the ocean, the tanning was brisk and everything that had happened could be forgotten.