2004-11-02 - 8:12 p.m.
"What a fun night this is turning out to be. I got to vote for the first time in my young adult life. I'm no longer a voting virgin. I feel this weird sensation...what is it? oh, yeah, I know...I'm being a responsible citizen for once in my life. Anyone reading this who didn't vote should take a couple seconds right now to bitch-slap themselves. Otherwise I'll have to do it for you....Go ahead.
I'll wait.
All done? Good. Now, repeat after me..."I don't have the right to complain about anything the newly elected president (whomever that might become) does during his/her/it's entire term in office because I didn't care enough to make America hear my input."
Good.
Yeah, I know it's true that one vote doesn't make a difference, but it does give you griping privileges. At least that's something." -11/07/00
And that's how it all began, exactly four years ago today.
Well, not exactly today. The 2000 election was on November 7, but whatever. The point is that I started this little excercise in stroking my own ego for your amusement.
"I'm not going to be a dick and tell you who I voted for, cause I don't think anyone who is reading this doesn't already know how I would vote. And if you just stumbled on this one by accident, it's none of your f---ing business whoe I voted for. (by the way, usually I just say the f--- word, but I figure I'll censor myself in this diary.) End of soapbox. " -11/07/00
End of soapbox? Don't you all wish? It was only the beginning, bitches! Not swearing? Boy, that resolution has gone right out the fucking window in the last four years, hasn't it? Four years and 268 entries later, and my writing style can best and most politely be described as...umm...vulgar most of the time (thanks a bunch for that one, Shelly).
268? What an odd number. You know, if I'd been a little smarter, which for me would be totally uncharacteristic, I would have planned this out a little better to have the 4 year anniversary come out to be the 300th or something. But see, that would have involved some degree of effort on my part, which, as anyone who is still with me all these years later, is just too damn much to ask of me, at least as far as your amusement is concerned.
Eh, maybe I'll give you guys something special at 300. Which, at current rates, would be just in time for the 2008 election, by which point my readership will probably only consist of my roommate and people who think I'm that guy from Gunsmoke. (ask your mom)
"I hate people who think it's so easy to be creative and witty all the time. I hate them almost as much as I hate people who think they are really witty and creative, but in reality are idiots who tell lame and/or unoriginal jokes. But at least the "pretenders," as I shall call them from now on, understand exactly how difficult it is to be so damn creative and witty all the time. It starts to hurt the mind after a while.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I personally am creative and witty all the time. I have my occasional flashes of brilliance and humor, but rarely. I just understand these things." -11/14/00
Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy, eh? What can I say? I struggle with writer's block a lot of the time. Which is something that has really begun to mystify me in the last year or so. I've always been a person with a lot to say. And I've never been shy about expressing those opinions and outbursts, and have gotten increasingly more outspoken in these virtual pages as the years have worn on. If you'd told me back when I started that one day I'd write an entry that would nearly get me arrested and/or kicked out of school, I'd have been incredulous, to say the least. Of course, if you'd told me back then that I would one day actually GRADUATE from college, I'd have laughed at you...where was I going with this?
Oh, yeah- Yet nowadays I find myself with nothing to say when I sit down to the keyboard. It's troubling, to say the least, because when I am inspired, I feel like I can still crank out the mediocrity with the best of them.
A while back I'd have said that maybe my standards are too high, and that I don't wanna settle for being crappy just for the sake of having something on the page, but I don't like the way that sounds any more, cause so many entries have been crappy that I'd hate to think that I was doing that bad unintentionally. Cause that would just mean I'm actually as retarded as I say I am, which is no good. Eh...
"Now I'm at a New Year's Eve party with a bunch of my old high school buddies. I just got done mixing a retarded version of wop for them (and don't worry, anyone, I didn't give away the recipe to anyone) I find myself suprised at exactly how little I have in common with any of these people. Did I change that much, or did they?" -1/01/01
Oh, it was definitely you, dude, don't worry about that. The incident with Monique 2 Christmases ago should have taught you that everyone you used to be close to is still relatively the same. The question is, has your change been for the better? Chew on that one, fat boy...
See, there's something that's been missing a lot from the early days. THe self-deprecation has gone wayyyy down, especially the whole "I can't get laid" bit has gone by the wayside. It's now been replaced by a whole lot of abuse for you, the retarded reader, especially you bitches...er...females.
See, the thing is, I got laid. I got girls. And then...I had my heart stomped on. A lot. And it's made me mean. And misogynistic. And not wanting to devote myself to a girl ever again, just use them and let them go. (See, I can still work in the self pity. Some things never change!)
Was it worth it?
Hey, at least I've held onto my tendency to just ramble on and never bring anything to a satisfying conclusion, which, as much as anything else, has been to blame for all my problems with women! HA!
Get it? "satisfying conclusion?" Sometimes I kill me.
The rest of the time, you want to!
"So I'm going to let you all in on a little secret that apparently everyone knows anyway....
I'm a big fat wanker.
Biggest, fattest, wankiest individual you'll ever encounter.
Just thought that shold be stressed for any sons of silly persons who think I should be taken at all seriously." - 04/12/02
Ain't that the truth...
1-22-02. That was the turning point. The entry is too long to put here, but read it, cause it's funny. That was when I came out of the prolonged "Post-Partem-Lesbian" depression and lapsed into the furious rage and cruel abuse that have become my forte since then. THat was also probably when my casual readership completely went away, and only people who smugly assume that I'm not talking about them stick around to see what I have to say about everyone else....
I like being mad. It's familiar. It's comforting. It's what I feel I can best express without coming across to myself as sounding phony or pathetic.
"You know, I have a really great knack for taking a simple concept that everyone already understands in their hearts and overexplaining it to the point of making it sound extraordinarily crappy and stupid. Then I have this other really great knack for writing it all down here in an even more Hallmark Hall of Fame style. I seem to be incapable of expressing honest emotion like love and regret and sincerity without feeling cheap and cliched and phony, at least to myself.
Am I really that cynical? Have I lost myself to the dark side to the point that I am truly incapable of looking at love or any other kind of emotional openness as anything other than cheap, forced, insincere tripe? Is it just me feeling like a douche for saying shit like this? Am I capable of more and I just don't know how yet?
Jesus Christ, even that last paragraph started sounding so phony to me that I had to insert a couple jokes and some vulgarity just to be able to be moderately comfortable with writing it down.
What the fuck is wrong with me?" -06/28/03
Your guess is as good as mine, dude. All I know is I'm getting more and more pissed as I watch this election coverage, cause every time I look at the tally, the Retarded Redneck has more votes and The Lesser of Two Evils still languishes at 112. These west coast states better get it together. And this thing about the absentee ballots in Florida (in counties, conveniently enough, that are more likely to vote Less Evil, in a state owned and operated by Retarded Rednecks brother) being uncountable till Thursday just makes me wonder what the fuck this country is coming to. Maybe my next entry will be as a Canadian citizen. That'd be a great kick start to the next four years....
Four years.
268 entries.
I've graduated.
I've worked as a professional actor.
My dad died.
My love life has gone from faux-pathetic to downright horrific.
My heart has hardened.
I have embraced hate.
I have lived the American Dream. And rejected it.
My friends have scattered to the four winds.
My sister has come to Wisconsin.
I've let a guy I hardly know spit grapes into my mouth.
Good to know I'm still fucking nuts, eh?
I'd better leave this off before the election gets decided, or it'll ruin the "full circle retrospection" theme of tonight.
"Truth or Dare-
What's the biggest lie you've ever told?
"I'm ok. That didn't hurt."" -07/05/03
"Win spectacularly or lose horribly, I remain-" (unable to find the entry I originally wrote that one in)
Ken
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