:: 2007 6 November :: 2.56 am

TMFA = To Many Fucking Acronyms...
Lol, the Jessa and Andy show? That's definitely a "wtf". Well, hello Mr. J. I see you with those shady eyes. Wanting me to fill your belly with delicious digital flavor. I've come to say absolutely...sure. Why the fuck not. I think the last time I was on this site, well, I WEREN'T doing so fucking good. Or maybe it was just because I was still a teenager. It seems so long ago. High school. Now that I look back on it. It was a lot of fun. I miss a lot of things and a lot of people. And just as I thought, things between the latter have fallen apart, I realize some people still use this site! Place: "wtf" (/emotabonics).

Err, where do I start. I'm employed at steelcase cleaning office buildings. I would have a better job but I took the summer off and blew a bunch of cash that I shouldn't have. I'm a pfc in the army (ok national guard) as an engineer. Which means I go once a month and build walls on a shitty installation. I have a wonderful and amazingly cute girlfriend named Jess. (Not the one with the show) And some minor heart problems due to stress. Jokes on me. It's not that bad of a life. And I'm hoping to improve some things. But, it's mine and you can't have it. So fuck you. Utility flask. Martha Stewart. Mofo. To be honest besides the whole six mons. of getting my ass kicked by drill sergeants my life has kinda settled down. And so has my demeanor. After reading this little comments I've posted in my more angsty days. I can see the differences and reflect and (reverie <------FUCK! I Misspellled thaat werd!) in the fact that I can see myself growing. Funny shit. So...bleh. And all that shit I used to say.

Time for bed you no-moving-parts, mechanically literate, server in Andy's aparment, mothafuckerpussarex.
-Dustin

4 Shots | Point and Shoot

:: 2005 1 October :: 4.26 pm

puck...
Working at Star now. Is that any better?

Point and Shoot

:: 2005 6 September :: 3.07 am

Dubayu Tee Ef...
Fuck. geh. What the fuck have I been doing! It's time to seize oppurtunity. No more procrastination.

3 Shots | Point and Shoot

:: 2005 8 August :: 4.32 am

Double sided breast tape...
Hello...Mr. Journal.
Blahity. blahity. blahity.
Still working at Wendy's. I seem to be running into a lot of people I haven't seen in some time. They all seem to come up to me and go "You workin'. Oh, yeah, where?" That's where I interject and sigh, a yes, and a Wendy's. Then I light up and cigarette and stomp out whatever authority or dignity I was holding during that conversation.

Oh, and the ladies. Ha. mofucka's. I've never had some much success and so much pathetic loss. In, well, probably since the last time I put some effort in this shit. Heh. I remember back in the day when I'd try to figure this whole thing out. But, I'm down right stumped.
Me: "You have a boyfriend."
Bystandard: "Well"...pause as she sucks in a deep breath, and I slap myself in the face waiting for the inevitable life story, "he pisses me off. blah. blah. We broke up. blah. blah. He doesn't ever (insert adjective here that has either to do with shallow displays of affection or overall acknowledgement). I still love him, want to marry him, will you just fuck me to make him jealous.
Me: So, I was kinda lookin' to go have some pizza or a movie. You know, since this is kinda like the first time I've ever talked to you.

bleh. whatever. smoke some stoogers and bang my head on the wall.
fuckity fuck fucker fuckmook.
Saw Ms. K at the pondscum-atorium. She's got a ball and chain. I don't know why she still talks to me. I'm not going to try.
Let's see how things go within a couple months. I'm hopeful.

Well, the hay has a restraining order on you, so try the sheets...for hitting. g'night or morning. Hello. goodbye...
Dustin

3 Shots | Point and Shoot

:: 2005 3 March :: 2.42 am

Yama's, Llamas, could somebody oil the macaroni gears in my noodle?...
Holy Fuck, Mr. J! Is that you. You decomposed, digitally bearded, open shirt bastard.

Let me pull the thumb out my ass and tell you a taley waley.
It's starts on...whoa, somewhere in July. C'est possible?
click, pop, rewind.
I'd just broken up with Jess, and gotten thrown on my ass. Fucking great. >>Restart<< Now I'm living in Cedar. Things are fucked up as always. Always will be. A bunch of big fucking delusional circles. Nothing ever good. Right? Got another job at the same franchise. Different owner, different policy, different people. I'd forgotten what it's like to live in a majorly white community. Pssh. j/k.
Eh, let's see. I was a wreck. I had these big purple circles around my eyes. It was terrible.
Fast forward>>Ms. K.
A few days after being thrown out. I had the reassuring visitation of an old friend and spark. And though we only spent, like, a day together. I thought things were going quite well. But, difficulties will be difficulties and I'm an asshole.
Thus, not only was I in shitty shape. The 'ol stars orbited my head. Because I'm an asshole.
Fast forward>>
I was thrown out by mom. It was all about stupid shit. Really fucked me up again. Blah. blah. Spent the night on US 131. A rest stop between the rockford and cedar exits. I stayed up the whole night writing stories and shit. It sucked.
Fast forward>>
Nothing much happens. I spend about three hundred dollars a month replacing parts on my Oldsmobile P.O.S.. It's kinda funny. Old people have left, new people have come. Ms. K's seeing Mr. R. I don't know how to feel about that. Everyone's so mixed about my collection of friends. Scenario time...not today. Heh.
Fast forward>>
Ms. M, Ms. C, and Ms.T, and all been very patient with my ass. Thank ya' ma' bitches! I'm the "dude". And I've been skimping out on my "dude" duties. Which is sad, because these are the people that someday, and even right now, I'll be jealous of. Sigh.
Twenty years...still no GED. Just an explicit case of madness. It's quite splendid. mwah ha ha ha!
Any who, Mr. J. The night is old, the day is gone, pull those covers over your silicon body, and don't forget to wear underpants. Yak!,
Dustin

4 Shots | Point and Shoot

:: 2004 8 June :: 2.05 am

Synonyms for procreation?...
Sigh...

Her...

4 Shots | Point and Shoot

:: 2004 5 June :: 3.18 pm

I smiled, and little pieces of me walked this way and that, passing right under my nose...
Work time.
Smoke time.

Is it really, seriously, unattractive/denerving to find a guy who smokes. I feel like a convicted felon from the middle eastern 17th century. Everytime I light up. It's like, jeez, at least I'm not a cardinal of the Vatican, fucking bending little naked boys over. So I could snort crack off their asses. Are you going to chop one of my lungs off with your scimitar, huh, fuck brick! sigh...

I have to go to work pretty soon. "She'll" be there. I shake like I have palsy every time I see her. I can't help it. I loved her... But, I don't get it. How do I make people hate me so much. And, I'm not being a rere about this whole situation. It's like, every friend I've had I've driven away by some means. It's weird. And really deturring.

New Friend: "Hey, I like your hair."

Me: dancing around like a maroon (the white boy or something) "Thanks, what's up?"

New Friend: disqusted "Holy shit dude, not a DAMN thing."

Whoa, is ME?

See ya, J-unit...yoi yoi...cough*

1 Shot | Point and Shoot

:: 2004 4 June :: 1.32 am

I loaded my shotgun with eminems, and proliferated his ass with chocolaty goodness...
Um, dearest and...deepest?, Mr. J.

My love life is a like a Offspring song. Go ahead listen to one. Yep, that's right. Pretty fucked up in a shrieked, grab your balls octave kind of way.
I don't understand girls. I don't think they understand themselves. It's like, bigotry aside, over there in a shady corner, off, off you go, girls act like they know everything about another.
Now, that may be a opinionated, biased statement. It's true though. They walk into shit like they're the calrone. That's fuckin' right, I said it, Calrone!
But, the unoffended, I assure you. Guys are no better.
Eh, whatever, fuck you, fuck me, apethy.
*Insert another interjection
It's kinda funny. I've been thinking this shit for three weeks and I finally decided to bitch about it. And what do I get, a incoherent, hardly close piece of bowel release.

I've only kept a handful of contacts since I've been out of school. And now they're fading on me. I guess that's just one of the cards in the Milton Bradley game. And I know I'm really touchy, feely with the past. But, fuck, who am I going to have left?

Just a pen, pencil, and a scrap of paper.
"She's" gone. Mandy's lost interest. Ryan's moving to New Orleans. Corina was never close to me. Tara, either, besides the fact that we have some kind of awkward tension between us.

Work sucks, getting bitchy and itchy. If you don't know what I mean by that. Go see for yourself. Bitchy and itchy.

Geh, oh well...

Time to go shoot me some sheep-age. Nighty,
Dustin

1 Shot | Point and Shoot

:: 2004 28 March :: 5.38 pm
:: Music: Incubus - Southern Girl

Point and Shoot

:: 2004 1 March :: 1.55 am

Grounds for ejection of the soul...
Oh god...Oh god...

1 Shot | Point and Shoot

:: 2004 25 February :: 1.29 am

The sense of not making sense, is really making sense of non-sense?...
Oh, dearest, dearest Mr. J,

I'm such a child. She was right. But, she says that in admitting this. I'm just being what I just stated. Or something like that.

Anyway, I wasn't sure if I hated her, or if I just hated myself. And the bitch, the fucking bitch is that I just hate myself and I'm putting it on her. It's true. Without her even saying anything, I've known this. Paranoia pad-ner.

We talked, and as the charming expression goes, "Whipped". Ker chak! I am, and I like it. I like having someone so understanding, and yet, so stern. It's nice. I feel loved. Does that make sense?

Anyway, Thank you, Jessica. And Mandy, and Andy, and Oh, I don't know...Santa Claus. J/K.

I, um, feel better. ;)

I feel better because I can admit that I don't hate someone I love so much. Progession, man!

Anyway, quit the smokin' game for a while. Let's see how things go. Heh.

Adios, penche puto,
D-bag

1 Shot | Point and Shoot

:: 2004 18 February :: 1.04 am

I thought the world was round...
For Valentines, I got her a box of Dots/Hersey Kisses/M&M's...
I'm such a fucking retard. I had all these elaborate schemes with confetti made from a crudely materialized form of love. I choked. So, she got candy. bleh.

2 Shots | Point and Shoot

:: 2004 10 February :: 6.13 pm
:: Music: Nine Inch Nails - La Mer

Point and Shoot

:: 2003 6 November :: 9.14 pm
:: Music: U2 - In God's Country

1 Shot | Point and Shoot

:: 2003 26 October :: 10.23 pm

Chuky cheese is a pseudo-subtle-enforcer of building a habit of gambling, Don't believe me, ask them...
Things to talk about when I get the time:
- Drinking
- Canada
- Today's title
- The ratio of illiterates with the letter D as their first initial
- Girl's at work
- Girl's not at work
- Guys...that are my friends
- Incompetent franchises that are blue balling themselves over their own fear of being a outstanding liability. <--- They're already a liability just existing.
- People I haven't called in...months, years, lifetimes
- People I wish I could call in those aforementioned periods
- and I'll top it off with a list of movies I like

Someday...right?

Point and Shoot