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Wednesday, Jun. 19, 2002 - YOU IS MY ELF-HO!!
3:16 am
to begin, this is me:

perhaps i spent a little too much time today enraptured by the strange territory that is the imagination of one jhonen c. vasquez. you might recognize the name as the thing that comes in the credits of invader zim after the words "executive producer."

the man is a genius.

his is a world populated by idiot aliens, homicidal maniacs who talk to floating rabbit heads and painted up styrofoam doughboys, tickle me hell-mo dolls, pepito the son of satan (also known as senor diablo or just mr. satan), psychotic robot sidekicks, and of course, an obsenity screaming stick figure gone horribly, horribly wrong.

pure fucking genius.

for example...

the problem with me reading jhonen's pretty, pretty little comic books or watching the wonderful piece of cartoon mastery that is invader zim is that it makes me very very very very very very hyperactive. at which point i tend to start running about the room screaming things like "I'M RUNNNNNING, I'M RUNNNNNNNNNNNNING!" and "BURRRRRRRITOOOOOO!!!!!!!"

this, in and of itself is a sight to see. one, relatively laid back punk/indie/emo girl running in circles around a room screaming at the top of her lungs like the titular character of vasquez's cartoon show's insane robot sidekick, gir. ("what does the 'G' stand for?" "i don't know.....wheeeeeeeeee he he he!!!")

i'm also known to develop massive outbursts of screaming on other occasions, most notably whenever i see fucking chris carabba on tv. this happened about an hour ago while i was watching MTV downstairs. i'm watching a perfectly good jimmy eat world video when suddenly and without warning a video by dashboard confessional comes up.

i'm not really a hateful person. but there are few things i hate in this world more than dashboard confessional. so i'm reclining on the couch, and the "unplugged" (though i'm not sure how you'd unplug dashboard, it's already acoustic) video for "screaming infidelities" comes on.

and i, being the controlled human being that i am, immediately begins screaming "DIE DIE DIE DIE YOU MOTHERFUCKER I HOPE YOU BURN IN FUCKING HELL FUCK YOU CHRIS CARABBA FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU." you know, instead of simply changing the channel.

i don't even believe in hell.

so the moral of the story today, kids, is that i am insane.

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If the world could remain within a frame like a painting on a wall then I think we'd see the beauty then we'd stand staring in awe at our still lives posed like a bowl of oranges, like a story told between the fault lines and the soil. ~ Bright Eyes - Bowl of Oranges

...or the story is in the soil, keep your ear to the ground.