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(no subject) [Nov. 7th, 2005|03:45 pm]
[noise |Die Warzau]

I got a new apartment! I'm so happy, and I'm pretty sure that everyone around me is sick of hearing about it. Well, I don't care. No one is squelching my joy. So fuck off. Tampa, here I come!
Now all I need is a job so I can pay for my new apartment. So if anyone has any suggestions of where to go in the Tampa/ St.Pete area, I need to find a good tattoo and piercing studio that's hiring.
Because I made a $6.50 paycheck this week. For 60 hours of work. Oh yes, it's true. That being the case, I need to find a new job pretty soon. I'm kind of hungry.
That's all.
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The Ten Commandments of Clubbing [Nov. 5th, 2005|07:44 pm]
[noise |melotron]

I. Thou shalt have thy ID.

Who cares if the staff knows you? Who cares if you know the owner? I don’t care if you’re fifty. I don’t care if you’re the Pope. ID. You must have your ID on you when you are in a bar in the state of Florida.. And if you don’t have it, why not? Didn’t you know you were coming to a bar?

II. Thou shalt get out of the bar staff’s way.

If you see someone coming toward you carrying a bunch of glasses, a bus tub or a mop, do not just stand there in drunken puzzlement and awe. MOVE! Oh, and moving an eighth of an inch in one direction or another is not moving. Get the fuck out of the way.

III. Thou shalt not dance with cigarettes.

It does not make you appear sultry, alluring or continental. At best you look clueless and white trash. At worst you look like an inconsiderate jerk who doesn’t care if they burn someone or ruin someone else’s clothes.

IV. Thou shalt not tip badly or not at all and then hit on the bartender.

Because of what I do for a living, I do judge people on how they tip. If you tip someone a quarter or not at all, don’t bother hitting on them. If you don’t think enough of them to tip, you obviously don’t think enough of them to date them. They're just going to humiliate you publicly. This is a special exemption to Commandment IX.

V. Thou shalt not interfere with the bouncing staff.

When throwing someone out, the bouncers are doing their job. Do not argue with them because the person they are throwing out is your friend. You are not a lawyer, and they don’t care. And if you are a lawyer, you should be smart enough to know A. when your buddy is being a drunken ass, and B. That state of Florida grants businesses the right to refuse service to anyone, as long as their decision is not motivated by race, gender, religion or sexual preference.

VI. Thou shalt not make inappropriate song requests.

Do I go to country and western bars and demand they play the Sex Pistols? No. Do not come to a Goth/Industrial club and request the Dixie Chicks. And especially do not get huffy when the DJ laughs in your face. He probably assumes you’re joking. You’d have to be, right?

VII. Thou shalt not drink on the dance floor.

See Commandment III and think about spills and broken glass on the floor under your feet in those thin-soled shoes. Besides would YOU want to wind up wearing anyone else’s drink? I thought not.
Sub-commandment: Thou shalt also not set thy drinks on the dance floor for the same reasons.

VIII. Thou shalt not touch others without permission.

One would think this to be unnecessary and self-explanatory, however the number of clam heads that have to be thrown out for this says otherwise. Apart from being rude and demonstrating what a completely classless fuck you are, in state of Florida groping, pinching and other unwanted sexual contact are considered Sexual Assault and they will put you in the Pokey for that.
Also, do not assume because someone lets other people touch them that this gives you the green light as well. If you don’t know that person, HANDS OFF! And I don’t care what they are wearing.

IX. Thou shalt take no for an answer.

Persistence is annoying in puppies too. When a girl/guy says they’re not interested, pick up your wounded pride, go off to lick your wounds, and try again with someone else.
Also, making a nasty rejoinder to someone who was kind or neutral while brushing you off does not make you appear witty, funny or more desirable. It makes you look like a great, big, steaming pile of shit.
This goes both ways. If someone works up the courage to hit on you and you are not interested, a simple no will suffice. Anything more mean-spirited than that and you have crossed the line into cunt-dom and deserve all the verbal abuse you get.

X. Thou shalt leave at closing time.

The ugly lights of harsh reality are on.
The bar staff are clearing drinks and glasses.
This is not up for debate.
Do not argue.
Do not resist.
Just get your shit and go..
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(no subject) [Oct. 27th, 2005|07:15 pm]
[noise |wumpscut-music for a slaughtering tribe]

Fuck everything.
I am way too nice of a person.
I'm going to turn into a totally self centered, fucktart BITCH...because then people will like me more.
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(no subject) [Oct. 25th, 2005|01:57 pm]
[status |R$%$%^*((*^%$$%]
[noise |skinny puppy]

I am at work, and I am bored out of my head. Yet another slow, seemingly fruitless day. I'm dominating the computer while I can, before Earl takes over and plays internet poker all day long. For the moment, they are distracted by Court TV. I can't watch that shit. I feel like I'm losing brain cells just listening to it.
When I woke up today and went into the kitchen, there was this little black snake slithering around on the floor. I don't know how he got there. I briefly contemplated keeping him, then decided against it, because I really can't stand caging things. I played with him for a little while, then I let him go in my little sort of garden. I tried planting some flowers, and I'm starting to think that it's hopeless, I was just born with a black thumb.
I don't really know what's going on lately, but I'm probably moving. Again. My mother has taken to calling me "the wandering gypsy".
I had a dream last night that I was roaming around a forest in a loincloth type of thing, and communing with nature and living off of the land, completely cut off from modern society. Premonition? Maybe I really am destined to be forever misunderstood, and therefore live a life of complete solitude. Like the Hulk, or something.
The thing is that I always have felt that something is missing in me. Something fundamental that normal people would have. I can't put my finger on what it is, or exactly how it feels. A hole, a giant God-shaped hole in my being like a void, that can never be filled.
Maybe I'll just take after the guy from Aphex Twin and go live in a pop-up tent in the woods in the middle of England, and spend my days building my own musical instruments out of busted up record players and toasters. I'll let my teeth get all limey, and only communicate with my agent through morse code.
I don't know. Maybe not. I really like my teeth. Living in Bradenton, Florida I kind of consider having all of your own teeth as a real asset.
Finally, a customer. I'm off to go poke holes...bye.
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