Another Job for Me - Another Dream

In life I've been many things, now here's one more.

~lol!~

Blessings,

Julian



http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vbvadq2hY0s - Another link just in case the sound doesn't make you smile.


Britney Spears Womanizer Lyrics
Songwriters: N/A

Superstar
Where you from, how's it going?
I know you
Got a clue, what you doing?

You can play brand new to
All the other chicks out here
But I know what you are
What you are, baby

Look at you
Gettin' more than just a re-up
Baby you
Got all the puppets with their strings up

Fakin' like a good one
But I call 'em like I see 'em
I know what you are
What you are, baby

Womanizer, woman-womanizer
You're a womanizer
Oh, womanizer, oh
You're a womanizer, baby

You, you, you are
You, you, you are
Womanizer, womanizer
Womanizer

Boy don't try to front, uh, I
Know just, just, what you are, ah, ah
Boy don't try to front, uh, I
Know just, just, what you are, ah, ah

You got me going
You're oh so charming
But I can't do it
You womanizer

Boy don't try to front, uh, I
Know just, just, what you are, ah, ah
Boy don't try to front, uh, I
Know just, just, what you are, ah, ah

You say I'm crazy
I got you crazy
You're nothing but a
Womanizer

Daddy-O
You got the swagger of a champion
Too bad for you
You just can't find the right companion

I guess when you have one too many
Makes it hard, it could be easy
Who you are
That's just who you are, baby

Lollipop
Must mistake me, you're the sucker
To think that I
Would be a victim, not another

Say it, play it, how you wanna?
But no way I'm ever gonna
Fall for you
Never you, baby

Womanizer, woman-womanizer
You're a womanizer
Oh, womanizer, oh
You're a womanizer, baby

You, you, you are
You, you, you are
Womanizer, womanizer
Womanizer

Boy don't try to front, uh, I
Know just, just, what you are, ah, ah
Boy don't try to front, uh, I
Know just, just, what you are, ah, ah

You got me going
You're oh so charming
But I can't do it
You womanizer

Boy don't try to front, uh, I
Know just, just, what you are, ah, ah
Boy don't try to front, uh, I
Know just, just, what you are, ah, ah

You say I'm crazy
I got you crazy
You're nothing but a
Womanizer

Maybe if
We both lived in a
Different world

It would be all good
And maybe I could be your girl
But I can't
'Cause we don't

Womanizer, woman-womanizer
You're a womanizer
Oh, womanizer, oh
You're a womanizer, baby

You, you, you are
You, you, you are
Womanizer, womanizer
Womanizer

Boy don't try to front, uh, I
Know just, just, what you are, ah, ah
Boy don't try to front, uh, I
Know just, just, what you are, ah, ah

You got me going
You're oh so charming
But I can't do it
You womanizer

Boy don't try to front, uh, I
Know just, just, what you are, ah, ah
Boy don't try to front, uh, I
Know just, just, what you are, ah, ah

You say I'm crazy
I got you crazy
You're nothing but a
Womanizer

Boy don't try to front, uh, I
Know just, just, what you are, ah, ah
Boy don't try to front, uh, I
Know just, just, what you are, ah, ah

Womanizer, woman-womanizer
You're a womanizer
Oh, womanizer, oh
You're a womanizer, baby


http://www.metrolyrics.com/womanizer-lyrics-britney-spears.html

Obscene Scene - Don't Look

Now when I was at my local porno bookstore I found this written on the dry-erase board on the mens' room wall. Personally I thought it was an offer so I hunted for the hole.

Sadly, nothing.

And if you're wondering "Hmm ... what is a gloryhole?" ... well, here's an answer.





No I really meant the link.

~lol~

Ciao!



Julian


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glory_hole_(sexual))

http://www.gloryholeblog.net/ - And if you're looking for MORE mischief try here.

http://www.gloryholepost.com/ - more wicked images

Happy Thanksgiving

Share your blessings.

Share your warmth.

Share you love.

Share your joy.

Share your compassion.

If you did it already then thank you.

If you believe in your heart you have none to share then let me know so I can mail you an envelope of love.

Blessings & much love on this Thanksgiving,



~ J ~

Kanye West - Heard Em Say Lyrics & Thoughts

Kanye West
Heard 'em Say lyrics

*******
Wake up Mr. West [echoes]

[Kanye West]

Uh, Yeah, Uh, yeah, uh, yeah, uh, yeah

[Piano drops]

And I heard 'em say, nothin ever promised tomorrow today.
From the Chi, like Tim it's the Hard-a-way,
So this is in the name of love, like Robert says
Before you ask me to get a job today, can I at least get a raise on a minimum wage?
And I know the government administered AIDS,
So I guess we just pray like the minister say,
Allah o Akbar and throw em some hot cars,
Things we see on the screen are not ours,
But these niggas from the hood so these dreams not far,
Where im from, the dope boys is the rock stars,
But they can't cop cars without seein' cop cars,
I guess they want us all behind bars.
I know it.

[Chorus (Adam Levine)]
Uh, And I heard 'em say, nothin ever promised tomorrow today.
(ooooooooo)
And I heard 'em say, nothin ever promised tomorrow today.
(Nothing's ever promised tomorrow today.)
But we'll find a way
(And nothing lasts forever but be honest babe, it hurts but it may be the only way)

[Kanye]
They say people in your life are seasons,
And anything that happen is for a reason,
And niggas guns a clappin and keep to squeezin',
And Gran (Grandma) keep prayin' and keep believin',
And Jesus and one day that ya see him,
Till they walk in his footsteps and try to be him,
The devil is alive I feel him breathin',
Claimin' money is the key so keep on dreamin',
And put them lottery tickets just to tease us,
My aunt Pam can't put those cigarettes down,
Now my lil cousin smokin those cigarettes now,
His job trying to claim that he too niggerish now,
Is it cuz his skin blacker than licorice now?
I can't figure it out...
Im Stickin around....

[Chorus (Adam Levine)]
Uh, And I heard 'em say, nothin ever promised tomorrow today.
(ooooooooo)
And I heard 'em say, nothin ever promised tomorrow today.
(Nothing's ever promised tomorrow today.)
But we'll find a way
(And nothing lasts forever but be honest babe, it hurts but it may be the only way)

(Cuz every worthless word we get more far away, and nothing's ever promised tomorrow today,
And nothing lasts forever but be honest babe, it hurts but it may be the only way)

[Beat Changes]


http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/k/kanye_west/heard_em_say.html

Version 2 with Adam Levine






Version 1 drawn by Bill Plympton





******

Today wasn't a bad day; it reminds me I don't want to be a teacher but it does remind me that I am going to make it no matter what. I am going to be unahappy in my present incarnation and I need to make the difference in my own heart and smile. I need to see something and show the delight of my own needs & wants occurring; selfishness must be king in my life. I need to sing my song and write my plays and walking to my own beat no matter how far it may take me; and it may have to take me away from Texas.

"The devil is alive I feel him breathin', claimin' money is the key so keep on dreamin',"

I am dreaming in my days and working my nightmares into something more formidable, and I want to see them happen. I want a recitation of my resume as wild & wicked as the needs of the demons of Lust & Gluttony.

I like food, and I like sex.

Let's find something that combines them both.

Maybe my life is an unfinished Harold Robbins novel, protagonist full of promise and yet, always falling short of real success & redemption, and making the world a little darker and their souls a little brighter. Is that truly a possibility? Am I going to make the world better one day with my stories or with my ideas or my hopes or my impotency?

Or am I just bullshitting myself?

Maybe a simple murder-suicide would be the best way out of this world. But ... killing my dog isn't the solution so I need to keep living and tying knots around womens' wrist and keeping them in place while my deviated imagination goes mad with lust & perversions.

THAT sounds like fun, doesn't it dear deviate? ~lmao!~

Maybe my soul is too dysfunctional for my heart to bear. Or maybe I will be that thing that I have feared all my life: 'alone'.

I think there are may things in life I need to reconsider in my quest for normalcy and maybe I don't really need normalcy in any manner.

Personally 'd rather be more like James Bond. Of course, the Sean Connery ideal with the Daniel Craig figure. I'd love to show my stomach off in a small pair of shorts coming out of the water for all eyes to gaze on me and allow myself to manipulate the babes of the moment into bending to my perverse and obscene will and desires.

(pause)

Of course falling in love would make things a little better wouldn't it? Almost as much fun as running away on a hedonistic journey through the thighs of young women around the world aching to play the depraved games I seek in my stories.

(more later - finishing term paper)

Coming Close`

Okay Friends & Loves,

School is letting me out soon; I turn in my shabby term paper on Saturday afternoon (meaning I'll be up with it all night Friday) and then running off to spend what little money I have earned from trite commissions and substitute teaching.

Thanksgiving will rear its' familiar head and I'll be dining with people I love ... but don't necessarily love. In the future I can hope to find a chance to host a "Misfits Thanksgiving" where all my friends who have few or no family will come to have a chance to be with someone and feel like a family they'd WANT not one they're subjected to with all the madness that involves.

In case you don't hear from me know this, to many of you: "You're in my heart & I love you ... even if it is an agape love. Never doubt someone loves you."

And as for the rest of you, watch your mailboxes after Black Friday. Well, after December 12th more precisely, watch your mailbox but DON'T open the present sent to some of you. And yes, your present is 80% hand made. When you see it you'll understand.

Those of you who are wondering 'Well gee Jules, where's my present?'

Well, where's the thong I asked for last Spring? ~wink!~

Love,

Julian

Some more music for my heart

The Crying Game

********

I know all there is to know about the crying game
I've had my share of the crying game
First there are kisses, then there are sighs
And then before you know where you are
You're sayin' goodbye
One day soon I'm gonna tell the moon about the crying game
And if he knows maybe he'll explain
Why there are heartaches, why there are tears
And what to do to stop feeling blue
When love disappears

I know all there is to know about the crying game
I've had my share of the crying game
First there are kisses, then there are sighs
And then before you know where you are
You're sayin' goodbye

Don't want no more of the crying game
Don't want no more of the crying game
Don't want no more of the crying game
Don't want no more of the crying game

********



********
Love is Love

Refrain 1:
You dont have to touch it to know
Love is everywhere you go
You dont have to touch it to feel
Love is every second we steal

Chorus:
Love is love is nothing without you
Love is love is everything you do
Open up your eyes
And you will see
Love is love is everything to me

You dont have to touch it to be
Wrapped up in emotion like me
Everyone must feel how I do, yeah
Love is just to be close to you

(chorus)

And you know that love is love
Its written in black and blue
And everything you say
Must bring her closer, closer to you
Ba-ba, ba-ba, ba-ba

(refrain 1)

(chorus)

Love is love is nothing without you
Love is love is everything you do

*********

http://www.lyricsfreak.com/c/culture+club/love+is+love_20034601.html

http://www.lyricsfreak.com/c/culture+club/the+crying+game_20177541.html

Donna Versus Gina

I find myself often in a quandry - wanting someone like Donna Reed for a wife, and in all honesty knowing I'd cheat on her with a pornstar like Gina Lynn. Well if nothing else you can see the difference can't ya?

Musical: Little Shop of Horrors
Song: Somewhere That's Green


I know Seymour's the greatest
But I'm dating a semi-sadist
So I've got a black eye
And my arm's in a cast.
Still, that Seymour's a cutie
Well, if not, he's got inner beauty
And I dream of a place
Where we could be together at last

A matchbox of our own
A fence of real chain link,
A grill out on the patio
Disposal in the sink
A washer and a dryer and an ironing machine
In a tract house that we share
Somewhere that's green.

He rakes and trims the grass
He loves to mow and weed
I cook like Betty Crocker
And I look like Donna Reed
There's plastic on the furniture
To keep it neat and clean
In the Pine-Sol scented air
Somewhere that's green

Between our frozen dinner
And our bedtime, nine-fifteen
We snuggle watchin' Lucy
On our big, enormous twelve-inch screen

I'm his December Bride
He's Father, he Knows Best
Our kids watch Howdy Doody
As the sun sets in the west
A picture out of Better Homes and Gardens magazine

Far from Skid Row
I dream we'll go
somewhere that's green.






N.e.r.d. - Lapdance lyrics

Dirty Dog
I'm, I'm a dirty dog
I'm a dirty dog
I'm, I'm a dirty dog
Dirty Dog
I'm a dirty dog
Dirty Dog

I'm an outlaw (I'm an outlaw)
Quick on the draw (Quick on the draw)
Somethin' you've never seen before (Never Seen)
And I dare a mother fucker to come in my face
I got somethin' chrome (I got somethin' Chrome)
And I got it from home (I got it from home)
And it ain't a microphone (Ain't it a mic!)
And I dare a mother fucker to come in my face
It's so real
It's How I Feel
It's this society
That makes a nigga wanna kill
I'm just straight I'll
Ridin' my motorcycle down the streets
While politicians is soundin' like strippers to me
They keep sayin' but I don't wanna hear it...

Oooh baby you want me?
Oooh baby you want me?
Oooh baby you want me?
Well you can get this lap dance here for free
Now you can get this lap dance here for free
Well you can get this lap dance here for free
Oooh baby you want me?
Now you can get this lap dance here for free

It's a raw night (It's a raw night)
Who wants to bar fight? (Who wants to bar fight?)
Well come on alright (Well come on)
And I dare a mother fucker to come in my face
Baseball bats (Baseball bats)
I got somethin' for that (I got somethin' for that)
It goes bla ka ka kat (You know what that is)
So I dare a motherfucker to come in my face
It's so real
It's how I feel
It's this society
That makes a nigga wanna kill
I'm just straight I'll
Ridin' my motorcycle down the streets
While the government is soundin' like strippers to me
They keep sayin' but I don't wanna hear it

Oooh baby you want me?
Oooh baby you want me?
Oooh baby you want me?
Well you can get this lap dance here for free
Now you can get this lap dance here for free
Well you can get this lap dance here for free
Oooh baby you want me?
Now you can get this lap dance here for free

When you think of Harvey, think of a Harley
Blue denim, spiked wrists and crombie
Lap-screws and tattoos that's all me
Two guns, both arm's feelin' like Fonzie
You can find me drunk, whip it it might crash
Or find me chillin with crackers, who like Clash
Find me in court smokin' that nice grass
Burnin' the flag, all in the name of white trash
It's Harvey baby, Christ on the arm I'm gnarly baby
Fuck with me? Not hardly baby
And you know the flow, im Godly baby
So lets party baby
Chicks nick-name me pilot, they get high off my dick
I take 'em to my home, they call it the cock pit
Time for take off, their panties they drop quick
Now that's first class fuckin, and that' some fly shit

Oooh baby you want me?
Oooh baby you want me?
Oooh baby you want me?
Well you can get this lap dance here for free
Well you can get this lap dance here for free
Well you can get this lap dance here for free
Oooh baby you want me?
Now you can get this lap dance here for free

********

Compare & contrast - Julian wants to make a life versus Julian wants to be a dirty dog, and that's so crude & nasty isn't it?

~lol!~

Can y'all see me travelling the United States trolling for my internet lovers & pervy deviated friends as so many of you are in my life?

Could you see yourself meeting me for a one-night stand or a wicked swingers weekend?

Would that make some of you insanely happy?

You know how to reach me ...

Blessings,




Julian




http://www.allmusicals.com/lyrics/littleshopofhorrors/somewherethatsgreen.htm

http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/n/nerd/lapdance.html

The Loss of Peace

When I was a boy we called it "Veteran's Day" but were told it began as Armistice Day after the treaty signed ending World War 1 to hopefully keep future generations safe from the horrors of war by acknowledging peace and the sadness of violence.

This morning as I watched the news I heard a reporter say "It was once called Arm-miss-tiss (?- pronunciation from her) Day?" She questioned her co-anchor and that was SO fuckin' sad that she wasn't sure why we were commemorating (not celebrating) this holiday.

To some this is just the day mail & some utilities are not serviced wereas others make sure to remember thos who sacrificed much from their own lives for our freedoms.

All we can say is ... 'Thank you.'

Thank you.

Julian

November 11, 2008
Lest we forget

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved, and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields… — John McCrae

Photos from jeff.bowser, MissyV110, burwell, and amythyst_lake.View more photos tagged with “Remembrance Day” and “Armistice Day“

Posted by Heather Champ

http://blog.flickr.net/en/2008/11/11/lest-we-forget-2/ - Please see the original for all the details & any other links pertaining to this day.

Slightly un-Suicidal

Dear Friends,

This was written last week when I felt sorriest for myself about the loss of one of my former students being crushed and having no shoulder to cry on, knowing deep inside if it could happen to HIM, it could certainly happen to a buttwad like me.

Anyway ... I'm not killing myself nor worrying.

I vented so it'll all work out.

Ciao.



Julian

*****

Did I shelve my talent and hopes so long ago I can't account for them in any way except as a title? Have I finally made myself the miserable shitbag I loathed to be in life or am I just too scared to do anything? Has my life ended and I'm just a rotting husk of human being?

I placed many things in many graves ... and they're going to haunt me.

WHY THE FUCK DO I FEEL ANYTHING FOR THESE DEAD HOPES???!!!

WHERE'S MY DREAM, MY ALLEVIATION OF PAIN??!!

WHEN WILL I BE THE ONE FEELING JOY?!

WHY CAN'T I CRY HONESTLY?

Why can't I be happy?

Why not me?

Tell me ...

I'd love to fuckin' know.

All my memories and sadness taunts me with the lingering stink of failure. I can't tell a joke or make people happy and I can't know my own feelings to be true and honest any longer. I hate feeling so lost and sad, and so unable to tell anyone any thing - any goddamned thing. I can't even shout or growl or be cruel and hateful or angry.

Impotent.

That's the fuckin' word. I have no juices and no joy and no way to recover without aching to try slitting my wrist again.

They're sitting on the cusp of my ducts, but I won't let them flow. I have been harboring & hoarding all my own emotions and socil honesty all I can be is crude and barbaric.

It's easier to collect toys and comics that to talk to people.

It's easier to spend money than to make when everyone wants to take it from you anyway.

It's easier to lie than to tell the truth ... even to yourself.

Its easier to drink or smoke or get laid or fucked than it is to confess or admit anything.

It's so easy to point out the flaws but to stare at the Dorian Gray inside you is another.

I hate me. Personally I don't see myself being worth two hot shits from a diaheretic horse at Derby but maybe my own perspective is skewed. Maybe I don't see myself as others see me.

I'm always picked last unless there's a shit job - then everyone need someone like me.

The tears well up, but they won't rush out. The whiskey stings my senses but I don't know any other way to cope with myself or my own inadequacies right now. All I wish is that "In vino veritas" would keep to Wild Turkey also; or maybe that's for vodka.

I sat, trying to cry outside ... I wasn't able to get ahold of the little dog Brownie, and I grew frustrated. It's just another tic on the side of my mind gnawing at me, reminding me I have no control and no help and no way to be successful. If I can't control the little things what makes me even IMAGINE that a dream should come true for me? Why the Hell should I go on living today, even tonight?

Why shouldn't it all stop now ... a quick slit ... deep, sharp. A few painkillers and a little more whiskey and a warm bath, and like the old Roman senators, I slide on into never-was-to-be where I finally belong. There's some pain killers left from an old injury - 1000mg or so. I was told not to drive or operate machinery but fuck, those days are WAY gone. Gone when I was a man, not an impotent grousing monster mewling from his personal corner of abandonment.

I feel the seepage, like the blood trickling out of a closed wound, a little drama to the marauding sadness of the ecstacy of the injory ending so swiftly. Maybe a little more whiskey will help.

Maybe not.

Sliced toasted bread grilled with butter my dinner, and I hate myself, dessert.
I advise they listen. I can't talk - they'll never hear me nor I myself. There's a cacophony of unfueled sadness sitting on the ground, maybe needing a spark to send it to the moon, or to roast it to embers and finally be done with it. Ashes to ashes, bullshit to dust.

I've tried purging my toxicity, but noone wants to see that side of me. I have dark, evil sick fantasies that would either end in murder, rape or both. That or arson ... I liked that. Arson is wonderful gentle friend; the flames crackle, and if you're not directly connected and doing it for you and not profit then it can be quite satisfying and calming.

Noone wants that side of me.

Not even me.

(pause)

Can you tell the people you love & who love you how much you hate them? How you'd throttle them and hide their bodies if you could? Has it crossed your mind lately, this morbid thought and hateful notion? Even in the anominity of the internet, am I still nothing more than a gnat, a grain of sand as an irritant to be quickly washed away and forgotten.

Did you surpass 30 sadly? Has the glimmer of the old dreams tarnished on the shores of sand and waste disposed recklessly, ruining the beauty of being great and wonderful now replaced with mediocrity and haste, complacency, and insecurity? Do I feel beautiful? Is a tank beautiful, or a rifle? Like me aren't they tools, needing always to be complete and being left empty as husk, ruined and defiled when the ammunition is spent and the war ends?

I'd rather be a sword, an extension of the warrior. Carved, intricate, gleaming, touched ... not just an edge or a rapid thrust, but a symbol, a use and eventually, a plowshare.

Anything good in my life I fuck up royally. Any truth I twist to my own misery plan or to hide whatever shit-sandwich I am currently feasting on in this life. All I can ever be is the louse, the scumbag, the embarrassment, the disappointment. And even in moments of elation or triumph, they're never enough.

Was 40 the way you're always going to see life, as a wag of a rat as the blood trickles out of you drop by fuckin' drop? Aren't you always on the outside looking in, wishing it were you wanted ... chosen, not just taken because maybe you can't do any better than mediocre? And don't you hate disappointing those who never expected a lot anyway and got less than that from your fucked-up cranium and blackened soul?
Are you ready to contemplate lonliness? Emptiness?

Death, or maybe just a real expressed emotion? A honest thought?

I wept a little while softly sing from Elton John's "Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word", and I don't know if they're true to my feelings or if they're just a reaction to my fleeting feelings of failure and the allowance of Wild Turkey snippets in my thoughts.

Or maybe it was "Tiny Dancer" ...

Fatigue creeps in and I just don't care to have an honest feeling. They don't matter to anyone but me and even I grow tired of my own whining and indecisiveness and bullshit.

I'm not gonna die.

Just sleep.

But sadly just not long enough for it to be satisfying.

I never felt alive though I've done some stupid & risky things.

Maybe I've been dead inside too long. Salted earth that no seed can make purchase of soil or toil.

Maybe this is my Hell.

My absence of Love, from God or security or family or friends.

Maybe it is time to leave.

(pause)

Tomorrow morning I'll be at school in the morning loathing all I am doing.

Always tomorrow ... even for death.

Ha ha ha.


~ j ~

--------
Artist: Skid Row
Song: Quicksand Jesus
Album: Slave To The Grind 1991

She caught the melting sky
It burned but still the winter passes
by and by
To the other side
A slow parade of wind
That blows through trees
That wilted with the season's children
Are we saved by the words
of bastard saints
Do we live in fear or faith
Tell me now who's behind the rain
A maze of tangled grace
The symptoms of ?for real? are
crumbling from embrace
But still we chase..the shadows
of belief
And new religion clouds our visions of
the roots of our souls
Are we ashamed of our own fate
Or play the fool for our own sake
Tell me who's behind the rain
What do we need where do we go
When we get where we don't know
Why should we doubt the virgin white
of fallen snow
When faith's our shelter from the cold
Quicksand Jesus I'm so far away
without you
Quicksand Jesus I'm so far away
without you
Quicksand Jesus I'm so far away
without you
Quicksand Jesus I need you
Quicksand Jesus I belive you
Quicksand Jesus I'm so far away

http://www.kovideo.net/lyrics/s/Skid-Row/Quicksand-Jesus.html

------------
Artist: Winger
Song: Headed For A Heartbreak

Yeah
Morning came and I was on my way
When you reminded me
I had too soon forgotten
It was you that set me free
Yeah, you were here when I came
You'll be here when I'm gone
So don't be waiting on love
Because I'll be waiting to ramble on
Headed for a heartbreak
Headed for a heartbreak
Darling, don't wait up for me
Tonight I won't be home
You've become a stranger
I just got to be alone
Don't need nobody on my side
To know the plane I'm on
So don't be waiting on love
'Cause I'll be waiting to ramble on
Headed for a heartbreak
Headed for a heartbreak
Headed for a heartbreak
It's not a mistake
Don't you think I can feel the pain
I walk away
To live again
Headed for a heartbreak
Headed for a heartbreak
(Don't make me hurt you)
Headed for a heartbreak
(Well I don't know_______)
Headed for a heartbreak
Don't you think I feel the pain

http://www.kovideo.net/lyrics/w/Winger/Headed-For-A-Heartbreak.html

---------

Artist: Corey Taylor
Song: Bother

Wish I was too dead to cry
My self affliction fades
Stones to throw at my creator
Masochists to which I cater
You don't need to bother
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on
I won't let go 'til it bleeds
Wish I was too dead to care
If indeed I cared at all
Never had a voice to protest
So you fed me shit to digest
I wish I had a reason
My flaws are open season
For this I gave up trying
One good turn deserves my dying
You don't need to bother
I don't need to be
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on
I won't let go 'til it bleeds
Wish I'd died instead of lived
A zombie hides my face
Shell forgotten with its memories
Diaries left with cryptic entries
And you don't need to bother
I don't need to be
(I dont need to be)
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on
I won't let go 'til it bleeds
You don't need to bother
I don't need to be, yeah
(I dont need to be)
I'll keep slipping farther
But once I hold on
(once I hold on)
I'll never live down my deceits

http://www.kovideo.net/lyrics/c/Corey-Taylor/Bother.html

So I Was Bored Again ... ~lol~

http://www.warninglabelgenerator.com/

http://wigflip.com/saywhat/ - above caption image dialogue

http://bighugelabs.com/flickr/deck.php - Trading card

http://www.labelmaker2600.com/ - Atari labels

http://www.festisite.com/money/ - isn't this what you want on a $10 spot? ~lol~

And thus I was here again .... ~lmao!~

http://generatorblog.blogspot.com/

- and this is one of my favorite sites: http://www.redkid.net/generator/sign.php

Blessings,

Julian

It's Probably Me

It's Probably Me Lyrics
Artist: Sting
Album: Ten Summoner's Tale


If the night turned cold and the stars looked down
And you hug yourself on the cold cold ground
You wake the morning in a stranger's coat
No one would you see
You ask yourself who'd watch for me
My only friend who could it be
It's hard to say it
I hate to say it but it's probably me

When you belly's empty and the hunger's so real
And you're too proud to beg and too dumb to steal
You search the city for your only friend
No one would you see
You ask yourself, who could it be
A solitary voice to speak out and set you free
I gate to say it
I gate to say it, but it's probably me

You're not the easiest person I ever got to know
And it's hard for us both to let our feelings show
Some would say I should let you go your way
You'll only make me cry
If there's one guy, just one guy
Who'd lay down his life for you and die
It's hard to say it
It's hard to say it, but it's probably me

When the world's gone crazy and it makes no sense
There's only one voice that comes to your defence
The jury's out and your eyes search the room
And one friendly face is all you need to see
If there's one guy, just one guy
Who'd lay down his life for you and die
It's hard to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me
I hate to say it
I hate to say it, but it's probably me


http://www.lyricsdepot.com/sting/its-probably-me.html

******

Tonight ... I almost held the gate open to let my big blonde labrador retriever go wander off into the night. As I hooked her leash I wondered, "Do I love her if I let her go free or do I love her by trucking through all the feelings I have and the self-loathing I imposed to care for her?"

I'm scared of my feelings ... I'm scared of the Truth inside me: that there IS no truth inside me.

That I am a vacuum, empty & devoid of anything intrinsic or human, and I am nothing more than floating debris now and forever.

Or ... I'm just scared of looking inside me.

The scumbag.

The liar.

The backstabber.

The racist & pervert, deviate and jackass.

The degenerate.

All he needs to do is wander away.

- wander away.

~ j ~

To Sir ... Fuck You

Disclaimer: I am in a bad mood so don't confuse my mood for anything more than the nonsensical ramblings of a malcontent angry with the statement of the standards of education. Moreover, I am angry and saddened that a good teacher has been crushed. And, I can see this is the standard of today and the future, and I think it's time to leave Texas and make my dreams rise or fall in California. And, if you read this & think I am subversive, just know I found all this shit on-line - nothing home-made or taken from restricted reading. It's COMMON KNOWLEDGE - except my opinion.

As of 11:01 pm Tuesday November 04, 2008 the United States ushered in an era of change with the introduction of it's first African-American President Barack Obama.

And as of 1525 hrs. today I heard that a former student of mine lost his teaching certification due to a fight in the classroom. When I knew him as a 16-year old linebacker for the local high school football team and later as an amateur boxer and then as a certified teacher with a degree and excellent credentials, I always beamed. The excellent boy became an exceptional man & a teacher. I couldn't have been prouder if he were my own.

He didn't drink as I do; more than likely he doesn't fantasize about which ass to crack like a walnut or a virgin in a porn gangbang. He's super-decent, kind and warm and always sees the upside. When I heard that he's not teaching, I was mortified. Knowing him as well as I do i wanted to cry a little inside and wish for a change in his life. He's working with a charity organization, and is still completing his Master's in education to hopefully go back into teaching or maybe into teaching in the college classroom showing future-teachers what fuck-up's can cross your paths and ruin your career and hopes and dreams.

According to him, the student attacked. He defended himself and the student bounced off his muscular body falling to the ground and cracking his head open in the recoil. That was just a condition of the attack by the student; you charge a brick wall and you're gonna lose.

When I told Mrs. Losoya, she was nonplussed, and said "Well he was stupid to keep the kid and let him get into an attack. he should have sent him to the vice-principal's office and been done with it."
I bit my lip to keep from saying "You're living an ungoddamned realistic situation."

Some schools don't have the small-town, neighbor-to-neighbor mentality that she's used to. I almost said something until her husband Xavier just asked me to walk our dogs together.

"She doesn't mean it Jules", he said as our dogs did their business. "She's used to being in control and having support. She's never really been in an out-of-control brawl like you or I have. Don't worry."

I came in to write my feelings, and to contemplate that my application for student teaching is at the local horse-shit university, awaiting my introduction or my rejection.

I came into teaching for two reasons:

- I failed as an artist & writer.
- I need money.

Now I am beginning to rethink the idea of money and teaching.

Maybe it's time to leave Texas for good. One major bonfire ... a few presents and some bar-be-que made of my old journals and sketchpads and art, and WHOOSH! A phoenix rises anew.

I have included the idea of a song called "To Sir, With Love" about a man who takes a teaching job waiting for a chance to be an engineer/architect in the UK and works with kids in a slum bettering them by showing them a positive image and role model. Sadly, that's a media insincerity that is best left for the silver screen or Disney to handle.

Those days are gone gentle friend ... and I don't think I should be a part of teaching now.

That's my gripe for today.

Thank you for listening ... love you.

Julian

-------Lulu - To Sir With Love Lyrics -------

Those schoolgirl days, of telling tales and biting nails are gone,

But in my mind,I know they will still live on and on,

But how do you thank someone, who has taken you from crayons to perfume?

It isn't easy, but I'll try,
If you wanted the sky I would write across the sky in letters,

That would soar a thousand feet high,

To Sir, with Love

The time has come,

For closing books and long last looks must end,

And as I leave,

I know that I am leaving my best friend,

A friend who taught me right from wrong,

And weak from strong,

That's a lot to learn,

What, what can I give you in return?
If you wanted the moon I would try to make a start,

But I, would rather you let me give my heart,

To Sir, with Love

http://www.stlyrics.com/songs/l/lulu8154/tosirwithlove284741.html
http://www.celebrific.com/jessica-alba-voted-most-favorite-substitute-teacher/ - Favorite substitute
http://www.neogaf.com/forum/showthread.php?t=156331 - Scared substitute
http://californiateacherguy.blogspot.com/ - excellent blog about teaching

Today's Paranoia

Two Conspiracies for Today - Voting Day

Today is Voting Day in the United States, Nov. 4, 2008 and the polls are open for the final battle between the candidates, John McCain & Barack Obama, and tomorrow morning the world will usher in a new era of social and political change.

And I don't mean like FDR or JFK may have with programs for the poor and assistances to bring social efforts to enpower everyone - I mean we're looking at people rioting, screaming in fears, unmitigated violence and misery and sadness.

Fear!

Riots!

If McCain wins, then we're in fear that he may die in office and Palin is going to be the most chaotic & incompetent person in politics since Dan Quayle.

If Obama wins, then he's going to make sweeping changes, reforms and (possibly) live under a target-sight, as per the racist idiots who planned to rush the country with attacks on his life.

I cast my vote, and I was strolling through the flea market after wandering the gravesites of my long-lost friends, and was told that if the elections go bad, we could fall into martial law and immediate barcoding for all citizens.

And then come the 'End of Days' and the Time of the Beast.

And this comes from other Christians.

THAT'S what scares me the most.

Tomorrow morning ... change will happen no matter what.

All we can do is hold our breath & pray for the best.

Thanks for listening.

Julian

p.s. "Are we on our way to 2012? I hope not ... "

More Blog Silliness

Okay so I was a little bored tonight & made some more stuff ... at this website:

http://www.cineyou.com/en/ - On the results above I SWEAR I did not rig or suggest anything to the website.

http://www.whatfame.com/en/ - How Famous Will You Be

http://www.couplar.com/en/ - Ideal Partner

http://www.paintingx.com/en/ - What Painting Are You?

And they all come from here - http://generatorblog.blogspot.com/

And to find all the links above start here ...

http://www.pawukon.com/?a=&c=nl&lang=uk&d=&m=&y=

The Day After the Dia ...

Dia De Los Muertos

I went to a gallery showing last night at a trenoid place in West San Antonio; it's near enough to the old bad neighborhoods to make it risky but near enough to a police window-front to make it the show you could take your kids to, even if you're not Bohemian's or gypsys. So you could walk 'in the darkened streets' without fear of a mugging. It was dimly lit for ambiance, and to use candle power for the exhibit, which should be more interpersonal as a show. It was a shrine exhibit for Dia De Los Muertos, or Day of the Dead in the calendar of the church. Halloween is October 31st, All Saints Day i November 1st, and Day of the Dead (Or Dia de los Muertos) falls on the 2nd of November. The day is a part of the Catholic-ization of the New World when Spain moved people here in the 15th century. As the priest saw the rituals of commemorating and celebrating the dead they decided to incorporate instead of intrude or eradicate the ideas so the day was born.

In central Mexico & many parts of the Latin-American world you can find HUGE celebrations going on, which include cleaning the grave, bringing flowers, and reminiscing about those who've left this world to be with God or the Ancestors (or whatever your particular belief is). Around the world there are many ways to celebrate and remember but this is particular to me since I live here & am Hispanic of birth.

So I see all these shrines, some amazing, like the artist who drew out a 'calavera' (Skull) on the floor using just natural ingredients like cactus, salt, corn meal, black beans and such, to one made on with one picture and a half-dozen wilty flowers done at the last second. but all the rest hung in between, most very personal and some very blase, made up of little silly things like Billy dolls & a sign saying Andy Warhol, as if we couldn't understand the inept idea of Andy's sexual & sensual nature in his art.

What took me was that in the morning I awoke with my neighbor Mr Losoya, who was walking his little dog, Brownie at 5:30 a.m. She was up crying like a fiend and needing to be let out and I heard Blondie, my big lab agiated (or wanting to join in) so I met him in the back yard and I told him what today was for me. He smiled, and both dogs romped and ran, chasing each other & emptying themselves of whatever was inside.

"Do you know where I can get some cheap flowers Xavier?" I asked.

He looked at me puzzled: "Why? Seeing your mom? Maybe for my wife for her bad cooking?"

We laughed then I said, "No, I always take them flowers."

"Aaahh ... it's Dia today; not just daylight savings time."

I smiled in the glow of my Maglite and called my dog back to me; sadly he had to chase his for a few minutes until I offered Brownie a treat and she came back to be leashed and stay inside. After breakfast & a little time to check e-mails & scribble a few lines for my term paper I found a chance to leave and hope the cemetary was open, or at least the gates popped where I could slip in and say my prayers.

Joe died when I was 20 in 1987, a suicide for a tormented mind that wouldn't be still or calm, no matter what or why or how. Alcohol, risk, lust, love ... nothing mattered and he always felt useless. Nothing anyone would ever say would keep his mind tranquil and he died at his own hand.

She was 18, barely and in a car with someone she loved. They missed a turn and crashed, dying hours later of torment and bodily anguish. I cried for her; even when I low she always brought me up. And though 20+ years have passed since that awful night, I kept thinking, 'If I haad just stayed on the phone a little longer with her. Then she'd be alive. She'd of gotten to be a mother and a wife, a lover and a poet, a singer and a college graduate, and yet ... I felt as if it were in my hands, her destiny.

I can't control destiny or fate any more than I can make the breeze stop or the ocean leave the sand dry. I can't wipe away the tears and stop my own heartbreak.

Or can I?

I was thinking about how I used to spend the day in the past, which began with church, then flowers, and finally a night in either a local strip bar or roaming drunk trying not to fall over 3-d installations made my poseur artist who can call a chewed wad of gum on vellum paper "introspective" and "artistic" and ask for $3500 for the piece. Always, after the tears, came the clarity of mind and the desire to drink and drown my despondency in beers and chicken wings remains.

I did see one thing: art is always going to be a possibility in my life, no matter what I do or where I go.

It makes me smile a lot thinking about the possibility since I am a goon, a weirdo, and a person dying to make his dreams come true. I go from the hopes of being a loser to being a winner, and I found a few little items on the net to make me smile.

So I am going to make a little change day by day and moment by moment.

And I'm not gonna cheat myself of that.

Blessings & thanks for listening,



Julian

Want A Drink?

And if you're looking for your own or any of the weird things to add to your own blogs ... then start here:

http://generatorblog.blogspot.com/

Always,

Julian

And thus my name ...

How Refreshing! How Afare24get!

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