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.

Remembering Today

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

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