i am moving to cleveland. thus forcing myself to become gainfully employed. then, i will cease being that guy who lives at home with his mother. the apartment is known as an ‘efficiency’ which i believe is a synonym to microscopic. but it is all i need. apart from a job that is. but that will come.
what i am seeking is an environment that gives me enough stimulus to be pseudo-creative yet enough time to put that quasi-initiative to some generally obscure purpose. i will also be able to resume fencing, and said physical exercise is sure to help work off my overabundant energy supply. thusly i should be able to concentrate on doing what i want instead of frittering about like a mandrill antitranked on amphetamines.
i will also be able to indulge in my latent or rampant whichever nerdiness and play mad magic and/or goof off with various or sundry whichever oldtimey weapons.
then i should be able to rebegin pompous analyses of books, albums, movies ‑as well as useless philosophical navel-gazing redundancies, taking pictures, writing things, telling myself to take guitar lessons and pretending to be some sort of panachioso babe magnet.
things might return to normal around here.
the weekend was nice. i was a ridiculously awesome scarecrow. my ubergoober scrawniness and general spinelessness allowed me to sag most convincingly on the steps of the house and scare [mostly parents]. perhaps someone will send me pictures of myself.
i met oberlin fencers. the girls were rather hot. the guys were cool too i guess.
i smashed some pumpkins with a morninstar, a war hammer, a tomahawk, and a gun stock club.
i made sausage balls and pumpkin dip, both of which were consumed by all parties with random abandon.
i’m done for now.
you think so?
perhaps he is mocking himself by using it thus. sort of like ‘philosophical navel-gazing redundancies’ right below it. and what about antitranked or panachioso? i’m pretty sure those words don’t exist as words.
it looks like this dude enjoys playing around with everything, and as long as his gist is still blatant, who gives a fuck.
Sounds suspiciously like apologia of the convenient ex post facto variety. More so with the trotting out of the F‑bomb by a known rare-F-bomb-dropper. Easy there, though: I’m just on Pretension Watch, and my Prolixity Counter keeps swinging into the red, self-mockery notwithstanding.
sciurus is my dark side b. he drops f‑bombs, scratches himself in public, and has bad oral hygiene.
To summarize, Adam wants to be able to do the things he wants to do when he wants to do them.
Sounds like a solid plan to me. Good luck in Cleveland!
Inter alia, I’m sad to say.