thepixiesrock

I don't know what a "prose" is. Can I sell it for money though?

I love the bass in that song. I picked up the album just for that one song.

There is just something about the way those meat products fit in that bad. The milk cartons just slid right in next to the Doritos. I'm spent.

Did I fall in love with the girl? Or did I fall in love with her ability to bag groceries?

Yeah, I don't know if it is the best, because with me, I think I like Pistolero a little bit more as a whole, but I will say, that I got chills the first time I heard the song Dog in the Sand. That song pretty much got me through the rough patch of when I couldn't play bar chords that well. I got better at them just so I would be able to play the chords in that song. FB&C - Dog in the Sand.

Bloody wanker

IT'S AN ACCENT NOT A SPEECH IMPEDIMENT

You're a jerkface.

Hey, he has my name in that post!

Some have told me it sounds like I'm from Boston, and others have told me it sounds like I'm British.

Frank Black - Song of the Shrimp.

Frank Black and the Catholics - Bullet.

Sunday, June 25th, 2006 I fell in love. It's not the first time I've fallen in love, but it most certainly will be the last. I went to the store with my mom to get some stuff. Food mostly, at least, that's the only reason I went seeing as I'm out of money. What with Father's Day, CDs, and Gamecube. So we go shopping, and we are at the checkout, and that's where I see her. She's working at the check-out next to the one we are in, as a bagger. You know, one of those people that put's the stuff you buy into a bag. So anyway, I'm sitting down on a bench. It was a pretty hot day, and I hadn't had any water, so I was starting to dehydrate. My head was hurting a little and I didn't feel like standing. So I'm sitting there, and whenever I see a cute girl who looks around my age, I'll sort of check her out. So I'm sitting there, and I think "Wow, she's really attractive." She had brown hair, thin, and looked a little shorter than me. I thought to myself immediatly, "She's perfect." I just sat there, watching her bag groceries. I couldn't keep my eyes off her, except when she'd turn in my direction. I didn't want to get caught gawking at her. Her voice was even great. I only heard her say one sentance, but it was all I needed. I realised that it wasn't just her I was watching. I was watching her bag groceries. It was amazing the way she bagged groceries. She did it with such energy. She would pick them up and put them in the bag with such effort, it looked like she enjoyed it. It was a genuine innocent enjoyment. Just from bagging groceries. Then, when she finished bagging the one costomer's groceries, she did this little victory type spin. Have you ever played the game Super Smash Brothers for Nintendo 64? Well, if you hit L1, the character does a little move called a "taunt". What she had done, reminded me of that. She was cute. Beyond that. A combination of cute and hot. She was etremely energetic too. She was zestful. I was in love. I was in love with the way she bagged groceries. I was in love with her. I just sat there, I started to silently laugh. Why am I not talking to her right now? Get up and go say something. Yeah, sure, go say something. I don't know what to say. What does someone say in this situation? "Hey, how are are you doing? I was just sitting over there and watching you bag groceries, and I must say, I'm impressed with your technique. How about getting something to eat when you get off?" Oh, wait, you are with your mom. You can't go talk to a girl when you are with your mom. When I was about 7, I liked this girl. My mom teased me about it. Well, I would call it teasing, she and my sister don't call it that. The fact is, it made it so I never wanted to talk about anything to do with the topic of girls with my mom. I could never talk to a girl in an interested manner with my mom there. So there I was. Helpless. I would most likely never see her again, The only thing I could do is just enjoy every minute of what time I had. I just wanted to make sure I remembered her. I passed her as I walked out. She looked at me, and I looked at her. Then I just kept walking. She just kept walking I assume. I couldn't turn around. I got in the car, and we went home.

I guess my 'r' comes out sounding kind of like an 'rw'

Well, since we haven't been doing reports as of late, I'll continue the report of myself.

Hey, wait a minute... I think Sur is English!

Eldar, next time I'm in Vegas, I'll look you up. I have went every year for the past 6 years. Not this year though.

In a few weeks, he'll make another thread. "I hate California."

It's funny because it's true.

T.O.M.B.S. dies when you lied about doing a trial for me.

But, T.O.M.B.S. can't live with out Eldar.

Kevin Spacey is playing Lex Luthor. That alone is enough for me to watch the movie. If I had a favorite yogurt, then Kevin Spacey would be that yogurt of movies.

It's funny you should ask that question, but yes, it is a true story.

This is a report for myself. I'm working as a host at he Italian joint I work as a host at. I have three bosses, and one of them brings in her son. He is a baby about 5 months old give or take. So, it seems all the chicks working, waitresses, busgirls, female cooks, their all taking turns holding the baby and what not. So this one waitress who I have taken a shinning to is holding the baby, and she was sort of swinging the baby I guess. I don't know what you'd call it, but she was bringing it close to the wall, then farther away. And the baby was trying to touch this thing hanging on the wall. "Fine food fine wine" is what I believe it says. I never really paid much attention to it. So anyway, the baby is trying to reach it, and touching it, and then gets pulled away, then brought back. The whole time, the baby is having a great time and everything. Laughing, gigling it's little heart out. So the chick turns to me and says, "Babies are so easy to amuse." She then walked away with the baby. I thought to myself, "Easy to amuse. Easy. To. Amuse." I guess you could say the words stuck in my head. Baley would certainly say that, along with some sort of metaphor. "Those words stuck in his head like cheap on a hooker." is what he'd say. Or something to that effect. I don't know, I'm not to poetic I guess. Maybe, in my own insane way, I am. Relative really. I guess if everyone spoke poetically, then that would mean that I was the one really speaking poetically. So she walks away and I just have that stuck in my head. I think to myself, "Well, all beings are easily amused, we just don't like to admit it." I stared out the window and just thought about it. "Easily amused." something about those words just stayed with me. One of the other bosses walked by, and I said to her, "She just said babies are easily amused, but really, we all are easily amused." Without out stopping, she just walked right by me and said "No." That was the end of that. You just can't fight that logic. I found a pen with an arrow on it. You know, like one of those indian arrows? They kind they shot with a bow. Native American rather. So I asked various employees if they were of Native American descent. They would say no, and then give me a puzzled look. I would take the pen out of my pocket and explain, "Well, I have a Native American pen here, and was wondering who lost it." Of course only a Native American would have this pen was what they thought I was thinking. So then later, the other Hostess shows up, she is attractive. Seriously attractive, but older than me by about two to three years, give or take. While I'm getting ready to leave, I notice she and this other guy that works there, delivery guy, she is putting the money he just got through the register or something, any way they are flirting. I can tell. So I tell her, "I'm going to go, is there anything else you need me to do?" "Yes," she replies, "Stay here and hang out with me." I will admit, I was a little taken back. So I tell her straight "You've got that guy, you don't need me." "Who?" she questions. "That guy you were just flirting with." "Mike? I don't want to hang out with him, I want to hang out with you." A clever ploy, I think to myself, but that won't work on me. I'm a bit too keen my dear, and witty to boot. "You're just saying that." I reply, and walk away. I run over to one of the bus boys I work with, and in a jokular tone, and gigling like a schoolgirl, I say, "Hey, the hostess just said she wanted to hang out with me! Dude, she wants me." "Yeah right." was his reply. I think he said something after that, but I don't too much remember. Some other stuff happnes and then I leave. It's weird. I'm in an earily sentimental mood I guess would be the word I'd use to describe it, but, it is probably not the word I'm looking for, most definetely. I usually think a lot, but not to this more open extent. You see, about the age of thirteen, I'm oretty sure I reached total enlightenment. Almost to the point where I think of myself existing on an entirely different plane of existance. Not in the crazy murderer type way, but in the way that, I feel I think differently than my peers, and, because of it, I tend to disagree with most people. I'm not doing it for myself, but for them. Not because I feel that I'm right. I could be wrong, but I do it, so they can see other sides. Not other sides for them to agree with, but just to see that we don't all think the same way. Now, I was thinking about omitting the last bit, because I feel it is too "I'm different and smart, look at me. I'm misunderstood and mysterious." I did not delete it, because this is a constant battle, that makes up myself.