Hello, my name is Judas Gutenberg and this is my blaag (pronounced as you would the vomit noise "hyroop-bleuach").
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dorky ravers who like goths
Friday, March 14 1997
Sad thing to say today: I swerve my car to straddle the squirrel in a feeble effort to lend him some dignity after his death.I was out of bed at around 3pm. Soon Monster Boy showed up and showed me some black and white pictures we'd shot last month. They mostly featured the antics of the goth girls in a graveyard and in Monster Boy's apartment. There were some pictures of me in this mix. Perhaps some will end up on a web page some day.
Persad came over briefly during this process. In case I haven't mentioned it, Persad and Theresa are BACK TOGETHER again and Theresa's laying off the booze. Nothing too bad can happen if she can control her alcohol consumption. The same applies to me.
We went to the Corner and I deposited the large insurance refund check into my bank account. I didn't even go to Comet to pick up a paycheck; I'd run across Dave the artist and he'd said something that had discouraged me.
So Monster Boy and I went into Little Johns and had the purple-haired/purple-goateed/multiply-pierced raver dude fix us each a sandwich. I thought that asking for two sandwiches was a bit excessive (especially in my prone-to paranoia marijuana-induced state). But the raver dude fixed them up and we took them to go. Yes, we got sandwiches for free and then didn't even hang out with our benefactor to eat them. I felt like we'd been terrible exploiters. Monster Boy felt more pragmatic about the situation, but I think even he felt funny about it. I told Monster Boy that such unjustified generocity is always foolish. You see, now the raver dude has made an investment in Monster Boy (and me as well) and if he should decide later that we actually suck, there will still be an incentive to continue with his generocity, or else risk losing all of the investment he made up to that point. Theresa's generocity is totally different. She knows when it is her time to collect. And no one imagines for a moment that Theresa needs to be generous to have friends.
SQUEAMISH PEOPLE... PROCEDE AT YOUR OWN RISK OR CLICK HERE TO BYPASS THE GROSS STUFF.
Monster Boy drove me back to the Corner and we went to visit Theresa at Goth Central. She was just then entertaining a number of guys, including this one guy who works for Studio Art who has a distracting bar-bell piercing of the skin on the bridge of his nose. Monster Boy wasn't hired at Studio Art due to the opinion of this individual, a fact he revealed once the bar-bell piercing guy had left.
Theresa joined Monster Boy and myself on a ramble around the Corner and back to my place to watch more homemade videotapes. I was feeling very tired and Theresa seemed to be in a foul mood for whatever reason, maybe because she was sober. At least she is gentle when she is in a bad mood!
Cecelia the Brazilian Girl came by before 10 pm, and right away she started complaining about being sober. So we went and picked up some overpriced white vino at the Corner Market.
Theresa left after awhile, but then Leticia the Brazilian Girl showed up, having gotten off work from the C&O. Monster Boy did a lot of videotaping here and there in my room whil Helmet or Tool played from my stereo. Cecelia is making me a mix tape of a variety of non-English goth/thrash/punk music, and we listened for awhile to what she has recorded so far.
Monster Boy was becoming bored, sleepy and cranky as he came down from being high, so I rustled up some pot for us to smoke. Then Cecelia and I played music together: her on keyboard and me on a now three-string guitar. The music was either hypnotic or annoying and made the others sleepy. Thus, after a fashion, the Brazilian Girls, Monster Boy and myself all ended up in bed together in a comalike condition. The girls soon saw the folly of this, though, and set off to see what conditions were like in the Horrid Crash Pad. About this time Deya showed up, having just gotten back from Warren Wilson College for Spring Break. In her company was Dan Kappus, the guy who maintains a subversive anti-Warren Wilson web site while still being at the college. He has had to move his web site to another machine though, since he has run into trouble with stuffed-shirts in the Warren Wilson administration. Dan has very short hair and appears to be rather punk rock, if you know what I mean. Contrary to statements made in the journal entry referenced above, Dan is not overweight.
Since I'd already drunk a whole Mickey's 32 oz, much of the white vino and was now working on some gin & tea extract, I was pretty drunk at this point, but I was pleased to finally meet Dan Kappus. I was being rather extoverted and cardinal (meaning I was initiating activities; no doubt an influence of my Saturn in Aries and my Venus in Capricorn). I wanted, despite Monster Boy's feelings on the matter, to go to the Horrid Crash Pad. So, in slavish obedience to my edicts, we all set off down Wertland Street. We ran across the Brazilian Girls, who reported that no one was at the Horrid Crash Pad. So I tried to get us all into the Orbit billiard parlour, but the guy at the door checked Cecelia's ID and wouldn't let an 18 year old in and we all ended up hanging out for awhile outside on 14th street. Since I needed some sleep and sobriety before my 9am Saturday Comet shift, I went back home after a second pass of the Horrid Crash Pad turned up as little life as the pass before.
Wisely, I drank lots of water before going to bed.
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