Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in "I LUBB YOU, MAXX!!!"'s LiveJournal:

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Wednesday, October 31st, 2007
12:19 pm	Please help me with my research paper! Hello friends! currently, i am doing a nice research paper on false intimacy/online dating/myspace stalking in our exciting hi-tech world! If you have any interesting experiences you would like to share regarding any of the following, please let me know: 1. Have you been stalked or stalked someone on myspace? Stalking is a relatively loose term here. What i'm really asking is if you've looked up people you know (exes, casual acquaintances, people who you may know but not KNOW) for the purposes of gathering information about them? If you've actually been STALKED, i'm also interested in that. 1a: If yes, do you feel this has brought you closer to the person even though you don't neccesarily share an actual bond? 2.Have you ever had an on-line dating/relationship experience go horribly wrong or horribly right? Have you met someone on-line, and expected them to be one thing and they turned out completely different than what you thought/imagined? Sometimes, we build images of people in our head before we meet them. How did this affect your interaction with the person once you met face to face? 3. Have you ever considered yourself to be in a relationship with someone you've only known on-line? If so, did you ever meet them, or if you're involved in an on-line relationship now, do you plan to meet this person in the near future? How does this differ from a conventional face to face relationship? Do you feel that one is able to be as honest and vulnerable in an on-line relationship as one is in a relationship based on face-to-face in-person encounters? 4. Barring huge LJ-drama type events, have you ever been betrayed by someone you knew exclusively or almost exclusively on the internet? Please describe how and discuss your feelings on the matter. 5. Have you ever grown attached to someone you've met on-line and been unable to let go of this attachment after an in-person meeting went very badly and no chemistry was apparent? 6. On the whole, what do you think about on-line relationships and the concept of false intimacy (a bond/closeness that feels real but may have no basis)? 7. Has an on-line relationship ever led to anxiety, stress, abnormal behavior, a psychological condition or disorder? Please explain. 8. (new and exciting question!) If you have looked up someone you were interested in/wanted to meet on myspace or another such website, and read through their likes/dislikes, taste in music, and their bulletins (or, in lj's case, posts)how much do you think knowing this information lets you know the actual person? Do you feel that people misrepresent themselves on-line? You can either respond here, or email me at imriderwaite@aol.com. All responses will be anonymous unless i am allowed to use a first name and a last initial by the respondent. If you have any other pertinent information you'd like to share, or can suggest something that may help me/make my project better, please let me know. Please pass this along to any friends you feel may have something to contribute. Thanks for everyone's help in advance! -mark (37 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Monday, September 17th, 2007
3:41 pm	hi friends! hello. in my creative writing class someone likened female genitalia (more specifically an underage girl's "trimmed slit") to a watermelon wedge, which leads me to believe that this person (who is obviously male) has never seen a woman, or even an anatomical illustration of one in a science book. A watermelon wedge? The lifeguard at the _____ where i go to swim has really been into singing hymns to those swimming under her fearless watch. Since this gym's particular demographic consists of eighty year olds who already have one foot in the grave, i feel that what she's doing may not be wholly appropriate, even if she is reaching her target audience. and me. Does she really want to be responsible for someone's watery death? Jesus. oh look! a picture of me watching SVU! Society's only acceptable way to enjoy a good sex crime! And i'm hallf-naked, as usual! (12 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Sunday, April 15th, 2007
4:05 pm	Wearing gold spandex pants... hello. recently i took a horrible second job that started with misery and heartache and ended with me constantly taking unsanctioned breaks to sneak into the restroom and stare into the mirror boldly confronting my reflection and bravely questioning the choices that had brought me to this point. seriously, it was a shit job and every morning i would wake up debating whether jumping out of my window and breaking a leg just so i wouldn't have to go in was a justifiable venture. So i quit. Sadly, i quit the week that my supervisors decided to make me "employee of the week" with a sign and everything. Even sadder, according to them "i wanted to go out on top!" is not a valid reason for calling in and telling them i'm never showing up again. This is going to be one hell of an exit interview. In February, a woman who was angry with me peed all over the floor of the video store where i work evenings. When the police arrived, she told them that this was not the first time she had urinated in public and had once relieved herself inside of an automobile at a car dealership. This was the second urination within a month. The first time, a frat boy relieved himself all over the teen wall of our porno section. I choose to believe that he did it not because he was drunk and an asshole, but because he wanted to display exactly what he thought of the pornographic film industry and the innocence it was robbing the "18" year-olds on the cover of*. i'm also 23. My mother says that the reason i'm this old, working in a video store, and not yet achieved a degree is because we lived near Chernobyl when i was born. "Thank god, you no have two heads or four arms," she says. "Is not visible, but you just little bit retarded!" -mark *really, he was just a fucking drunk asshole. (42 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Saturday, October 14th, 2006
6:38 am	notes, notes, noted... hello. seriously, with the amount of times i threaten to stab people in a six hour period, i'm surprised i still have a job. i just thought i'd document that. -mark also, and this is really sad: while in class the other day, i wanted so badly to stifle the girl who was asking question after asinine question that had nothing to do with what the instructor was discussing that i checked to see if my pen was a BIC so i could perform an emergency tracheotomy on her. Turns out i didn't even have a pen. So not only am i a horrible person who will be roasting in hell for all eternity, but i was also hideously unprepared for class. oh, and: i made the mistake of letting my mother remain in my apartment while i was gone yesterday, and the woman not only went through all of my things (because i expressly asked her not to), but she traumatized my hamster with her incessant chatter (now we all know where i get it from). I returned home to find Randall hanging upside down in his cage and hissing at no one in particular. It's disturbing that my animal companion and i have the same reaction to my mother's constant lectures. I would not be surprised if she spent 3 hours reprimanding poor randy for stuffing too much food in his mouth and asking him why he wasn't more ambitious and successful like the rest of the people he went to high school with. i'm glad some things never change*. now i have to go to sleep. I am embarrassed to admit that i've spent all night playing the new Nancy Drew computer game. and i enjoyed it. *i love my mother, she's the best, and i sincerely hope that this last comment will calm her down and discourage her from posting anonymous comments in russian. (42 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Thursday, May 18th, 2006
5:43 am	butters, i am going to kill you over and over... hello. here are two things you should know about me. 1. I order lunch from Cybelle's Front Room on ninth avenue (HI!!!!) at least once a week when i am working a day shift (also: day shifts are kind of awesome because i usually put in a combined one and a half hours of work. return some videos, straighten up some porn. Read books and watch south park for 4 and a half hours. AWESOME!). 2. When i am at home, i am usually in my underwear. Actually, even when I'm not at home there is a 50 percent chance I'm just hanging around in my underwear. It has become the norm for me to show up at a close friend's house, say hello, and drop trou. People used to have a problem with this, but it is now almost always accepted. Sometimes i am wearing the nice boxers i buy at target ($2.99 a pair!!). Sometimes I am wearing irregular jockeys that come from ross (six in a $3 box!) Tonight, i was wearing the latter. * In any case, my friends and I were watching the top model finale tonight (Shut up, jade! I hate you. I am not even capitalizing your stupid name because you are such a noxious bitch!) when we decided to order dinner from Cybelle's (which makes awesome veggie burgers). I phone in my order, curse jade a little, wait, and curse jade some more. 45 minutes later the doorbell rings. Thirty seconds later I am standing by the door in the shirt I was wearing yesterday and my irregular boxers waiting for the delivery man. Ten seconds later, the same delivery man who delivered food to my place of employment yesterday is standing in front of me. Delivery man: Oh it's you! me: uh, hi... delivery man: this is your house! me: yes! delivery man: I usually deliver to work! me: yes. uh huh...thanks. you are awesome. delivery man: YOU ARE USUALLY WEARING MORE CLOTHES!!** delivery man: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAH! HO HO HO HO HO!!!! me: here is five dollars! delivery man: HO HO HO!!! HOOT HOOT HOOT! MORE CLOTHES HAHA! me: yes, well there's a 5 DOLLAR TIP FOR DELIVERY! GOOD BYE! Delivery man exits hooting down the stairs. I have just paid a delivery man hush money in hopes that he will not come into work one day and want to reminisce about that time i answered the door looking like a ten cent unwashed whore. I am certain, however, that the next time he brings me my delicious veggie burger he will laugh a little and say "YOU ARE WEARING MORE CLOTHES NOW! HA HA HA! HOOT HOOT HOOT!" i should just shoot myself now. Or put pants on in the future. here is a pictorial representation of how I feel (never mind that it was taken last week): -mark *whatever, it's my hot body and I'll do what I want! ooooh, side-note: the crazy guy who came in and threatened to kill me came in again and tried to steal my tips. I took the tip jar away. He threatened to kill me again. I decided to not take the threat seriously considering he can barely walk and supports himself with a cane. Maybe threatening to shoot me with a gun he does not possess is his only high point in life. who am I to take away his simple joy? **in all honesty, he was saying "YOU USUALLY WEARING MORE CLOTHES!" through a thick accent, but I am an equal opportunity transcriber. In my journal, everyone speaks perfect English. Except my mother, because she refuses to stop sending me that one forward about bill gates giving $25 to anyone who forwards the email. I have been reduced to sending her angry emails threatening to come over there if she does not cease and desist. I will, too. She lives just across the street. (36 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Sunday, April 30th, 2006
2:48 am	willow gat pointed at your ass.... hello. I imagine it must be hard being a politician or a CEO of a large controversial corporation. There are decisions to be made, people to be ordered around, and the constant fear of something horrible (for instance, someone shooting you in the ass as you enter a building) happening to your person as you go about your busy day of ordering people around and making important decisions regarding your next big oil spill, or whether to do pizza or sandwiches for lunch. Life must be hell. I would hate to live like this. This is why I am a video clerk. I make eight dollars an hour. I don't manage anyone. Sometimes I get to read a book or study when it's quiet. I love my job. Unlike politicians and CEOs I never expect to get death threats, which is why I was a little surprised when a middle aged gentleman in his fifties threatened to splatter my brains out on the "motherfucking wall" behind me this evening. Here's how it went down. I'm standing around, doing my usual holier-than-thou video clerking bit when the aforementioned gentleman comes in and asks me if I'd like to make some change for him. I'm a nice guy. I don't mind making change. I go out of my way to be nice to customers (well, at least I thought I did. Tonight another guy told me I was discourteous and had bad manners because I slid his credit card at him instead of putting it into his hand...), so I decide to make change. BIG MISTAKE!!! The guy dumps two dollars worth of quarters on the counter and asks if he can get two singles. No problemo, senor, we have more than enough dollar bills. I make change. Satisfied, he decides that if one transaction was good, two would be even better, so he digs in to his pockets to find even more coins to get rid of. Now here's where it gets interesting. I should mention that we have a tip jar at our store. Yeah, I know, you're not supposed to tip your video clerk, but as I've said we don't make much and we are all pretty good about remembering peoples' names and recommending good movies (well, except me. Teen Witch is my answer to everything. Have a bad day? TEEN WITCH! Your cat died? TEEN WITCH!!!! Cancer? oh man, that calls for TEEN WITCH!!!) so people sometimes leave us their change or whatnot. It's nice and on a really good day you can make enough to cover dinner. BUT HERE'S THE POINT: I'm making change and I look up to see my tip jar is empty. A middle-aged man has just stolen a dollar out of the video clerk's cleverly decorated tip jar. What is wrong with the world? Where is shame and decency? and then: mark: Sir, you gave me eight quarters. Here is a dollar bill. The other dollar will be going back into my tip jar, from which you have recently stolen a dollar. middle aged crazy man: BITCH, I TOOK NOTHING! mark: Sir... MACM: (in the style of Whitney Houston) YOU ARE VERY, VERY SMART! OH YEAH! mark: Thank you. It's been a pleasure. please leave. MACM: OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOYEAH! mark: and please never come again. MACM: I COME BACK WHEN I WANT TO! mark: and I will refuse to serve you. MACM: BITCH, I COME BACK WITH A GUN! SEE YOUR BRAIN SPLATTERED ALL UP ON THAT MOTHERFUCKING WALL! COME BACK WITH A GUN! JUST ME AND ME, BABY! JUST YOU AND ME! COME BACK WITH A GUN! COME BACK WITH A GUN! of course, no one else in the store said anything. I guess when you see someone else being threatened with violence, you pretend you don't see or hear lest your brains be splattered upon the wall with the video clerk's. Or maybe no one was really taking the guy seriously. I wasn't. I was too busy wondering how low one would have to sink before they started coming to the video store just to steal tips and threaten people with violence when they were caught. And also why anyone would try to imitate Whitney Houston as they were threatening to make modern art with just a gun and your brains. "Sir," i wanted to say "You are no Whitney Houston. Whitney Houston is a crack ho with a beautiful singing voice! Whitney Houston don't need to steal! And if she did, she wouldn't steal small. BITCH RAN INTO A BUS! WHITNEY WOULD HAVE KILLED ME AND THEN TAKEN EVERYTHING I HAD! EVERYTHING! EVERYONE SCARED OF WHITNEY! EVEN JESUS AND HE HAS MAGICAL HEALING POWERS! WHITNEY CRUCIFIED JESUS!" Sadly, by the time I got around to opening my mouth to spew forth my parting thoughts, the middle aged gentleman had hobbled out of the store mumbling to himself. Just as well. Not everyone feels about Whitney the way I do. And I didn't really need him coming back with a gun. YOU AND ME, BABY! JUST ME AND YOU! -mark (30 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Sunday, April 2nd, 2006
11:50 am	HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MOON! hello. new perk of working on my birthday: susie_q, who i will be training tonight, is forced to wear a party hat in my honor! also: i was going to do a shot every time someone paid a late fee, but my boss vetoed that. also: i'm a little hung over from last night's pre-birthday festivites. also: bad idea: flashing your nipple ring at everyone in the bar in order to get free drinks. Highly embarrassing. however, highly effective. also: i'm 22! also: I HAD A HAMSTER THEMED CAKE OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG!!!! -mark (37 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Monday, December 5th, 2005
4:32 pm	sometimes there is no better feeling than discovering that even though you're not at the top of your game yet, there are people you hated in high school who have created a comfortable career in the stunning world of Florida's dinner theater. (19 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Sunday, December 4th, 2005
2:59 pm	hello. I have achieved every 20-something stagnating American's dream. I now work in a video store for a minimum wage salary. I can just imagine my mother bubbling over with pride when I explain that while technically her friends' doctor children do have more responsibility and a higher paycheck, they do not have the luxury of playing Suspiria* in an endless loop for six hours as they scrub stains off the adult DVDs. I have arrived. Also: SFSU just sent me a letter saying that i CAN attend in January, so I will be a professional very soon. No need to worry. -mark *i have never seen Suspiria, and while I have a copy in my possession I don't really ever plan on watching it. Instead, I just like to parrot what other people say about it (beautiful colors, compelling scenery, yada yada) and recommend it so that people think I am knowledgeable and edgy. I would one day like to be able to recommend it to someone as a suitable children's' feature (ballet school, witches), but I fear that may get me fired. **also am very excited about working at video store! (9 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Friday, December 2nd, 2005
6:37 am	hindsight is 20/20... it is probably not acceptable to run a dishwasher at 6am by any stretch of the imagination. It is equally unacceptable to kill people, dice them into bits, and then serve them in a delicious fat-free dressing. This is probably going to get me kicked out of the house very, very quickly. (11 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Wednesday, November 2nd, 2005
1:25 pm	All that's left are memories... hello. Despite all of our best efforts, Bunny encountered some complications this morning and was put to sleep about an hour ago. I am incredibly upset, but when they brought her in after the injection, she looked so much more comfortable and peaceful than she had in days that I knew i was doing the right thing. She had a very gentle passing, and went very quietly and quickly. I know that she's in a much better place, but probably not hamster heaven. Hamsters aren't social creatures. There's probably only one hamster in hamster heaven, the rest are distributed among the other afterlives. Thank you to everyone who donated to Bunny's cause. I was considering using that money to help finance bunny's pre-existing vet bills ($466 surgery), but if you'd like a refund of your money, please comment and i will happily return in. I have so many happy memories of Bunny. The time she bit one of my classmates in the face. The time she threw a piece of corn at a girl i didn't like. All the times she would fly out of paper towel tubes. She was the best hamster there was. Bunny wasn't just a rodent. Bunny was a person, and my Bunny was my friend. My only regret is that i didn't meet Bunny sooner and that we didn't have more time together. She was a force of nature and i'm glad that a year ago a homeless man stepped out of the shadows on a darkened Berkeley street and rasped out "Hey buddy, you want to buy a hamster?" -Mark Easter Bunny (rabbit) Taiesha, Lisa Wrigley III ?-11/2/05 Rest In Peace (41 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Tuesday, November 1st, 2005
1:17 am	Please help me save my hamster! hello. Many of you know or have heard of Bunny the Hamster, who I rescued from the streets of Berkeley and who has been bringing myself and countless other people joy and entertainment for the past year and three months. Bunny is the nicest, kindest, most handsome hamster that anyone has ever met. She is also the feistiest, scrappiest, and bravest rodent in the history of the world. And now she has cancer. Yesterday, I rushed Bunny to the emergency vet hospital where I paid over 450 dollars to have her infected tail removed. I thought that the infection was the only problem Bunny was facing, but during examination, the vet found a hard lump in Bunny's abdomen that she diagnosed as Lymphoma. Lymphoma is very common in hamsters and Bunny is likely to die of it if I don't have it checked out and do what I can to up her chances of survival. Here's the problem: I am poor, and Bunny is an exotic. That means that vets charge more to see Bunny than they would charge to see a dog or a cat. Her treatment costs more. Any kind of surgery or even an x-ray will be astronomical in costs. I cannot afford much more than what I paid last night. I know it is tacky to use the Internet to beg for money, but if there's anything you can do, please help by clicking Bunny's picture below and donating to her Cancer Relief Fund. Bunny came through last night's surgery with flying colors. She is on antibiotics and painkillers and should be herself in a matter of days. Her tail is gone and there is little chance of infection, but she is still facing Cancer. Please, if you can donate a dollar, 50 cents, anything, it would help so much. Bunny is more than just a hamster: She is a friend. And I want to do anything I can to keep my friend alive. I understand that many people have been burned by online donation scams in the past, but if you donate, you will have access to Bunny's medical receipts, her vet's name, and any other information upon request. To donate, please click on a donate button, or one of Bunny's pictures below. Then, please pass this page along to friends or acquaintances if you would like every little bit helps and both Bunny and I are incredibly grateful for any support. thanks. -mark (51 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Monday, July 11th, 2005
10:46 pm	one-UP hello. in retrospect: -There was no reason that any of my neighbors should have seen me checking the mail in a pair of pink corduroy pants. Much less their children. -I should have not tried to pick a fight with the girl next to me when she got a decimal place wrong on our class assignment. Violence is not an integral part of summer school, and while it's understandable that my math course riles me up, there's no reason to scream "LET'S RUMBLE!" and attempt to lure my classmate outside for a fight that i don't even know i can win. -when my mother asked me why i needed the ninety dollars she owed me, i shouldn't have told her it was for guns and cocaine. This does not fly with my mother. I am surprised i am not in jail as i write this. Truth: I needed the money to pay off my credit card bill. Truth: The credit card is an evil piece of plastic. While i never thought that a rectangle of synthetic material could embody bad qualities, i have learned my lesson. Satan, thy name is Visa! -Stealing Brownies from Fresh Choice is a really, really bad idea. I am already eating in a low-rent buffet. Lining the pockets of my (and my friends') pockets with zip-loc bags, then stealthily stuffing brownies and slices of stale gingerbread into them to eat later (while playing Super Nintendo, no less) is not classy. In fact, it just makes me look like a stoner. This is ironic because: Fact: Pot gives me panic attacks that sometimes require ambulances. nicole_prn will attest to this. -I should have mentioned that i was moving to more people. My old roommate is still receiving phone calls regarding my whereabouts. Fact: My old roommate gave me an ultimatum. It was him or the guinea pig. Due to my inability to make Sophie's Choice, the rodents and i have relocated to an apartment that happens to be located across the street from my parents'. Good News: I was able to adopt Catherine, and her existence is no longer in a state of flux. Bad News: Catherine is prone to choking and has a ten year life-span. She is still very young, and i've already had to res(c)uscitate her twice. I don't know if i will be ready for children any time soon. If you do not have my new phone number and are on a need-to-know basis, please consider contacting me. -I should spend a little less time watching reality television. Last night, as i was watching The Surreal Life, i found myself verbally defeding Janice Dickinson's behavior to other people. "You don't understand," I told Chris, "she's not usually like this. She's really a nice person. You have to read her book." This is wrong. I do not have any relationship with Janice Dickinson. Also: Bunny is alive, My bank account is empty, and i work at In Defense of Animals. I also really like Missy Higgins. You should probably buy her album! -Mark (48 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Wednesday, July 6th, 2005
5:25 pm	addendum to the post i wrote almost two months ago. Many thanks go out to Laura Hooper Beck and Erica Brutacao-Kemp, fantastic people without whose help i would have never made it through surgery, or even to the hospital. (13 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Saturday, May 14th, 2005
1:08 am	And i fear, i have nothing to give/Hold you down! hello. For the past 11 hours I have been able to make eye contact. Since this has been a longtime goal of mine (foiled for the last 21 years by my very very sexy Paris Hilton eye), I'd like to say that it makes me very happy. I'd also like to note that most people I've been making said eye contact with are a bit taken back by my hypnotic gaze as my eye currently looks like something out of a Godzilla movie. It's bright red and weeping, and is planning to take over Tokyo sometime in the next week. Direct eye contact is not enough. My left eye wants to take down a fucking sky scraper. Show those office ladies what it's all about. My surgery went surprisingly well. Aside from the fact that I screamed "HOLLA BACK, GIRL!" at the empty admitting desk when I arrived, informed the nurse admitting me that I was allergic to arsenic and cyanide (she went to the back to check these on a chart and returned to ask me how to spell them as they were not on it. I told her that I was joking. In case you didn't know (and apparently the people at Kaiser don't) Arsenic and Cyanide are both lethal poisons. Everyone's allergic to them.), and then pestered the anesthesiologist about whether or not there is an afterlife (she said yes! She says her loved ones come to visit her sometimes, but only for a little while. They have work to do on the other side!) I didn't do anything that was embarrassing or humiliating. Oh, except when they wheeled me into the operating room. The crackerjack medical team assigned to me insisted on talking about basketball while they were painting pretty pictures in iodine all over my face, and I felt it important to announce that I found this topic to be offensive and inappropriate. "You guys," I slurred, "this is really boring. Can't you all just pretend you're on ER and have some arguments about your torrid love affairs? Drop a few scalpels! CODE RED! CODE RED!" At this point everyone laughed good-naturedly (read: uncomfortably) and upped the dosage on my sedatives. WHAT ARE THEY HIDING? I'm fine now. The worst part of my recovery fell to Chris, who had to suffer through my dying swan/sick baby routine and had to wake me up/move me during the night so that I would not sleep on my newly moved eye and squash it into a bloody pulp before it had the chance to topple a couple of Japanese secretaries to the pavement 50 stories below! Poor Chris. My bandages and moaning also forced Chris into telling me that he loves me which quieted me down somewhat, but not really. Remember that when someone has just admitted their feelings for you and you are injured, you can always take this opportunity to make them do things for you. I didn't. I'm working on being a good person. I love Chris back. Hey, New paragraph where I make sense! Look below! At the moment, my eye is weeping like it has never before. I was told that this would stop by Tuesday or Wednesday, but right now it just looks like I'm very emotional because the left side of my face has been beaten in. This morning, the doctor clamped open my eye (DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME! IT IS NOT AS FUN AS IT SOUNDS!!!) and fiddled around with needles in there! He didn't give me any anesthetic, and the inept nurse (who is VERY, VERY sweet) kept dropping things and forgetting how to put drops into my eye. She blamed this on her clumsiness, but I think she looked into my peeper and saw the future of a very tall building in a land far away. In closing, I'd like to share a picture of Chris and me looking very happy last Saturday. Well, I like to think we look happy. The truth is, he was forced into the picture and was probably hoping I wouldn't strangle him to death if he didn't smile when I ordered him to. He's the best. He's also the best looking man I've ever dated! I really don't deserve him. Au Revoir, Bitches!* -Mark *TM Janice Dickinson I forgot to mention that after i woke up from the surgery (it was just local anesthesia, by the way, with a lot of sedation) i somehow got it into my head that i was Queen Victoria and ordered the attending nurse to round up my medical crew so that i could thank them properly. I guess it's a good thing that i make people laugh wherever i go, because this woman nearly died of mirth. I also bought a copy of "riding the bus with my sister." I thought it'd be fun to read, but without Rosie O'Donnell constantly screaming "I'M COOL BETH!" and throwing things around in her special way, it's just not as exciting. :(!!! (46 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Saturday, March 19th, 2005
12:00 pm	THis is not a marathon hello. this is my friend Katherine: Katherine is a guinea pig. Katherine was abandoned on the street by someone who has no respect for living things. She and her male friend (who was really easy to adopt to someone because he did not scream/shit himself in fear every time someone held him)were found huddled together in a box and were taken in by the good people at Marina Vet and handed over to Rocket Dog Rescue(where i am apparently now known as the Rodent expert(shut up, i'm not lying!)) to find homes for them. Here, Katherine and i bond for the first time: From left to right: Her lips say no, but her eyes say yes, Katherine terrified that i will eat her, Katherine attempts to eat me first, and Katherine noticing the camera and being all "THAT'S MY MAN!" In theory, Katherine is up for adoption. In practice, i'm the only human that Katherine trusts. She doesn't squeal when i pick her up anymore, she likes to nibble on my face, and she demands to sleep with me at night ("demands?" you say, "how can a guinea pig demand? She can't even talk!" True. She screams instead). She's so comfortable sleeping with me, in fact, that she has chosen the space between my neck and pillow (yes, i know, there isn't supposed to be a space there, but there is now)as her favorite resting position. Katherine is also frightened of Bunny the Wonder Hamster. I put Bunny by Katherine's cage to introduce them, and after several moments of heated staring, Katherine squealed and bounded to the back of her cage. I'm certain that she'll be around for a while. Please note that the strange marks on my neck are not KS but hickeys. That's right, hickeys (you should see the other guy). Because both my friend Laura and i are sexually active adults now*, so we bought this book: Here we are being scandalized by our newfound knowledge. Actually, only Laura is scandalized. I'm straight pimpin' because i knew more about the subject than she did, and am now familiar in the ways of engaging in oral sex with someone who suffers from ADD (the correct way is NOT to do a song and dance every few minutes to keep them interested!) Also, Confidential to "Idiot in Daly City": Dear Idiot, Do not bring your 5 year old child to see the last 45 minutes of the ring. You don't know me, but i will cause a scene. Especially if you sit next to me. And especially if your child starts crying and begging you to leave. That's right, i did call you a horrible parent, and yeah, i did tell you that psychologically traumatizing your child by exposing him to images of mothers drowning their children and little girls with scary faces is considered child abuse, and i still have no regrets about clapping my hand over your kid's eyes when Samarra was climbing out of the well and he was hyperventilating. Sure it was out of line, but you sir, you, are an asshole and should really reconsider your parenting abilities, especially when you're the only one leaving the theater with a weeping toddler. love and kisses, mark *Just in case my mother is reading this, let me point out that i am not, in all actuality, sexually active, but am seeing someone awesome. All of my friends agree that this is good for me because he's the nicest person ever (I know! WTF?!) and dating him forces me to test my self-control and ability to remain tactful in new and challenging ways. (62 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Monday, March 14th, 2005
4:58 pm	Please Advise hello. My boss has just asked me why some people fuck their sisters. He claims that sister fucking accounts for over 99 percent of mentally-challenged individuals today. The other one percent are just unlucky. Your opinions, please. Also: If my boss is correct, is chris Burke (Corky on "life goes on") a product of incest or just unlucky? And: What kind of response does one expect for a question such as this? I understand that there may be several good reasons for fucking your sister (desperation, accesability, wooden leg, etc)but wouldn't recounting them make me seem like a sisterfucker? I don't even have a sister. And who the hell are these women who are getting fucked by their brothers and then having the babies? Do they need some monetary help? If you know any of these ladies in trouble, please refer them to me and i'll set something up. Planned Parenthood is on my speed dial. Incidentally, you can't get the morning after pill unless you are the one who will be using the morning-after pill. The people at planned parenthood are afraid that someone will slip someone else a morning-after pill to get rid of a pregnancy (no lie, a planned parenthood representative told me this the last time i called). What an awesome idea! What ever happened to ruffies? Date Rape wasn't enough? We need to force miscarriages now? Horrible! -mark (85 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Monday, February 7th, 2005
2:47 am	This is a re-take of my life... hello. It's kind of sad that i'm so busy doing things (Read: Napping) that don't have to do with the internet that i missed my 3 year lj anniversary yesterday. Here's a list detailing how my life has changed in tiny and miniscule ways since i created my livejournal. 2002: Senior year of high school. Horror of Horrors. Depression. Pestilence. Bad grammar and spelling. Suspension. Graduation. 2003: Community college. failure. Dismal outlook. ELVIRA. 2004: More of the same. Except more pain and suffering and then a little bit of the old teenage girl broken heart coupled with the realization that i am insane, but in a totally charming and healthy way. I will kill you. 2005: I live in the haight with one official roommate and one unofficial one. I work as a receptionist. I don't use LJ as much as i used to. I have a hamster. HAMSTER!* I know that's four years, but you have to count the date of creation. I also know that the list above may seem a bit depressing, but i'm being dramatic as usual. On the whole, i have a pretty good life and have never attempted suicide (except that one time in seventh grade, but that doesn't count). And today i got my 15 pound weightwatchers bookmark, and it was awesome because i had to tell everyone what was working for me and i said i'd lost the weight throwing up and doing crystal meth, and no one knew if i was serious or not. I also had my hair dyed a subtle and horrendous red. I paid 37 dollars for this privelege. I look like a cross-eyed elf. No, you may not see. -Mark *as we all know, i had another hamster. Blackberry (AKA Worst Quality Wife) was a real bitch. She escaped, chewed through wires, bit, made too much noise, and refused to smile in pictures. The one picture that i have of her depicts her sinking her teeth into my finger. Blackberry died in December and is greatly missed. (33 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Tuesday, January 25th, 2005
11:52 pm	My exhaustion leads to a manic episode... hello. Here is a list of words that college students like a lot: redundant, pontificate, sans, proletarian, power, exclusivity, prerequisite, explication, exploitation, slander, juxtapose, extrapolate, proliferation, redundancy, redundancies, and exhume. I wrote this list while i was supposed to be paying attention in Political Science, but apparently everyone who signed up for the class mistook the title of the class to mean "we hate bush and talk about how our government sucks 101" and decided to spend the hour and a half we were meant to be studying the constitution having a crossfire style debate of exactly why the government is bad, why we should kill all our leaders, and why we should go back to hunting, gathering, and fornicating in the wild as mother nature meant for us to be doing. And I'm all for it, if this going back to basics regime that so many of my liberal friends in Poli Sci 101 are promoting will stop them from using all of the above words in a sentence. Seriously, I'm a liberal. I voted for Kerry and everything, but I hate everyone in that class more than I hated everyone in my philosophy class (well except for the one guy who sits in front of me, but he's nice and we had a discussion about our neighborhood this morning), and if you've ever taken a philosophy class, you know how annoying these new people must be. Only the fear of being stoned after class stopped me from getting up and saying "hi, I'm mark, and I'm a republican, and I'm also gay, and Jewish, and on unemployment, and on disability, and receiving all sorts of benefits from the government and wasting your tax money, OK bye." And let me be serious here for a second: You can all make jokes, and argue with me, but people in America sometimes forget just how good they have it here. Complaining about Bush is all well and good, and the war is bad, and the unemployment rate sucks, I agree, but it could be a lot worse, and at least we still have basic freedoms. And government is a good thing because without it none of us would be in these classes getting a higher education or getting financial aid which, you know, comes from the government we all hate so much. Martha Stewart would probably agree. So after Poli Sci I have Beginning Theater, which is quite possibly the most frightening thing in the world for several reasons. 1. The teacher's sole intent this semester seems to be making the quiet French girl cry. 2. The teacher's pet is someone that can only be described as an AvrilGay, a sexually ambiguous being named something like Jesse who wears torn up leather gloves (with the fingers cut out), checkered scarves, and spikes his hair in the style made popular by KD Lang. He got kudos for being the first actor to perform in the class (which in no way means he was any good, because he exhibited acting skills that even high school drama teachers would find alarming) so now he spends his time acting like he is assistant director and telling the rest of us our business while making lame jokes. 3. The teacher told us that if we were good he could hook us up with some promising leads in community theatre productions. This is more depressing than anything I could imagine. Also: I am extremely terrified of everyone thinking I'm horrible so I continually volunteer to go first just so I can get it over with and get valuable feedback like "your whimpering needs to be louder." I realize that my inane ramblings aren't what drive people to read this journal, and no one likes my deep, sensitive side, so here's what you really want. Namely, a picture of bunny fucking things up: Recently it cost me $82.11 to be informed that Bunny is a cutter. The picture you see here is the last night that Bunny had a tip on her left ear. The next day it fell off due to self-mutilation. Otherwise she's the picture of health and is expected to last another 2 and a half years or so. And here's a photo journey through about 25 pounds of weight loss. Check out my nifty drawn-on shirt in the last one! And never mind the fact that I'm hiding my gimp eye, at least now my face stays the same even when I suck my cheeks in! Also: plz stop defriending me. It hurts my e-feelings, and I lose ten Internet dollars every time one of you does so! -Mark (204 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)
Monday, January 24th, 2005
8:00 pm	my natural instinct is to protect the child... hello. A large part of my job consists of writing endorsements, short formal letters, which invite a company to remove Jane Dor from policy number X, and add a ‘98 WindStar to policy number Y. These letters are stapled to a statement from the insured, given an effective date, and then faxed and mailed to the companies who have a vested interest in the corresponding names and numbers on the policy. Usually, these letters are extremely dull and the statements that accompany them are full of laughable errors such as "chench my adres" and "I vant 2 ad" to name a few, and I spend many joyless hours poring over them and hoping that the person really did mean to change their address from A to B and not want to add some kind of car called Vesta Ave to their policy. Reasons are never really required for these changes and most are self-explanatory, but today I encountered a letter asking John Doe to be removed from all policies because he had died the week before. I had never met John Doe or his wife, had never even looked at the license pictures in their file, and yet I was still inexplicably sad for the woman who had the unhappy task of writing to take her husband's name off of all accounts as he had never existed. While her handwritten letter boasted no tear stains or other telltale signs of mourning, her signature, penned in green ink and crossed out several times, betrayed the sadness she must have been feeling inside. Maybe I’m romanticizing, but her final signature looked small and pale compared to the others which were large and almost pressed through the paper, as if she were saying "no, I’m not okay. What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" It's amazing to think that all the people whose files I handle daily have lives outside of driving cars. Or know each other. Or have children out of wedlock, or are going through a terrible divorce. All I know about our customers are their names, their policy numbers when I need them, and sometimes their voices. I had a hard time writing the endorsement because I didn't feel it was any of my business to be faxing and mailing this woman's grief all over the country, but that's what people pay us $50 a year for, so they don't have to do it themselves. In the end, I chose to type "passed away" instead of the usual "deceased" or "dead" on the endorsement and faxed it off hoping that in some way, it would be more comforting to Mrs. doe to have those words, instead of the more harsh, realistic ones on file. And I’d be lying if I said it didn't make me feel better too. I have huge issues surrounding death and dying, and always feel uncomfortable using the clinical terms, as they make the reality of mortality even more real and inevitable. On the bright side: I misappropriated work time and called NRGY92.7 to win myself a copy of Lasgo's new album. I hope they got the right address, because I was whispering the entire time and hoping that no one would show up and ask me for something. The DJ asked me to hold so I could be on the radio, but I was all "oh no, that's ok. I'd love for all of the bay area to hear my high-pitched whine, but I’d also like to keep my job. Can you play 'Tell It to My Heart' and 'Easy As Life' instead? And they did, and it was awesome. Almost as awesome as the perplexed look on my boss's face as the DJ broadcast my location and full name over the airwaves to inform the Bay Area that one of the CDs had, in fact, been won in the last 3 minutes. "uh, Mark, do you have that endorse-" "I'M RIGHT ON TOP OF IT, ROSE!" -mark (24 bed-wetters | tie my wrists)