tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40438992011-04-21T18:45:54.031-05:00Jarrod's l33t BlogWrit MacabreJarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comBlogger1261100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-82591794113509655172007-06-26T13:03:00.000-05:002007-06-26T13:08:50.521-05:00The years, they keep on a' rollin.It is with some bit of shame that I notice how long it's been since I've updated this blog, and I can only hope that the "faithful" readers are occassionally glancing at this thing to see if I'm still alive. Rest assured that I am still happily existing.I'm not even sure where to start. The idea of blogging to me was a way to document the tiny little things that happen on a day-to-day basis, Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1159472949317447812006-09-28T14:46:00.000-05:002006-09-28T14:49:09.343-05:00I am Become Death..."You will be a minister of death, praying for war!"--Gunnery Sgt. Hartman, Full Metal Jacket Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1152420287032831812006-07-08T23:43:00.000-05:002006-07-08T23:44:47.043-05:00Darned if you do....It's hard to feel good about yourself on a late Saturday evening when your wife is going on about how her schoolmates were the "top 5" in everything statewide back in the day. You have to begin to wonder where you fit in things statistically, even if you've had the whole "don't worry, your Mom and Dad think you're the greatest thing ever to walk the face of the earth" mentality shoved up your Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1143299648732443112006-03-25T09:12:00.000-06:002006-03-25T09:14:08.743-06:00Legacies on a Chilly Saturday MorningCircumstances make one who they are, what they leave behind, on this chilly Saturday morning. After 1:00 today, I will be happily married. I will leave my own legacy on the lives of my parents, my wife, and anyone else I've ever come into contact in. I need to be the calm in everyone else's storm. I need to put my horse before their cart. I need to make them happy. That is all...for now.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1131687492310937392005-11-10T22:59:00.000-06:002005-11-10T23:38:12.330-06:00UntitledShe stank of sugar and cinnamon, and slipped into his world like a ghost sliding between cracks in the ether.He wasn't sure what to make of her offer except that it either bored him or excited him beyond all possible reasoning, verbal dopamine for his brain. His breathing was shallow, his hearing focused, the glaze in his eyes vacating the premises.The smells were what drove him crazy the most, Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1131136698194186642005-11-04T14:37:00.000-06:002005-11-04T14:38:18.213-06:00Anger Management, maybe?Everything that happens today included, but not limited to facial expressions, the weather, tones in people's voices, bad clothing, cold food, and bladder habits, is making me angry.Why today?Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1123908598555575972005-08-12T23:48:00.000-05:002005-08-12T23:49:58.560-05:00Definefail·ure ( P ) Pronunciation Key (flyr)n.1. The condition or fact of not achieving the desired end or ends: the failure of an experiment.2. One that fails: a failure at one's career.3. The condition or fact of being insufficient or falling short: a crop failure.4. A cessation of proper functioning or performance: a power failure.5. Nonperformance of what is requested or expected; Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1122672976504505912005-07-29T16:34:00.000-05:002005-07-29T16:36:16.510-05:00Pain, Agony, and Clotted BloodWell, nothing insanely new I suppose, but for those that don't know, I did hurt myself at work, which is a new, but altogether undesirable change.Essentially I ran over my right big toe with a pallet jack loaded with a happy little ton of milk, cracking the bone at the end and ripping the toenail completely off except by a small sliver of bloody gristle.Parts of your body without any blood in Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1120106540381667182005-06-29T23:39:00.000-05:002005-06-29T23:42:20.386-05:00CacadookieSometimes life just feels like a big bout of constipation. You strain, pressure yourself, almost blow things out that you didn't know that you had, and all for what? Just to get a move on. Yeah, that's how I feel at times. Fortunately flatulence, evil smelling liquids, and pain are not added into the mixture. I'm stuck in another round of writer's block. Ideas dance away from me like Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1118760777932422682005-06-14T09:51:00.000-05:002005-06-14T09:52:57.936-05:00Fwah?I haven't received my diploma in the mail yet.This is disturbing, although I have it from fairly good sources that it takes this long. Needless to say, the angst is approaching dangerous levels.Nah, not really.Oh well. Everything's pretty much fallen into routine, whether for good or ill.Indeed.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1115390137142441462005-05-06T09:25:00.000-05:002005-05-06T09:35:37.216-05:00Life Will be the End of Me'cause its' a bittersweet symphony, this life.Trying to make ends meet you're a slave to money--then you die."Bittersweet Symphony" The VerveSo here we are, on the verge of something that is supposed to feel great, to alter my life, to change the very fabric of existence for me and mine. Isn't graduating college meant to be a beginning instead of an end? The idea of waking up this morning and Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1112850061769502472005-04-06T23:56:00.000-05:002005-04-07T00:01:01.770-05:00Jumblegodwell here it isdumped like the winds carry sand left out in the rain overoveroveryeah this could have happened or this could have happened but we're just people and I wanted to be one tooshe wanted epic poetry pining after her and I want to oblige but don't know if I canit's not angst it's oppression of my soul because the freaking devil is going to wrap me in tinfoil and scorch me on the barbie Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1111036807350724832005-03-16T23:16:00.000-06:002005-03-16T23:20:07.353-06:00185She flows me into darknessOne head-no two headlights aheadbut they face awaysprinting their burnt gasoline water sprite songthe tailpipe chugging merrily at myimpotent inability to catch her.Smelty stone ground leads to a hyper fake chase of dreamstuff.Like a, like a hell, I don't know. Like a setting sun day on a Sunday that you almost wished you'd died on, because it's just that Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1107236522766167012005-01-31T23:31:00.000-06:002005-01-31T23:42:02.766-06:00AssociationIt's an easy thing to put together in your writing. The ability to toss metaphor with metaphor, hand in hand like a third grader's daisy chain, exists beneath the surface of each ivory sheet of pulp.
It is a harder thing to associate these things with a person.
Like a conditioning routine, you find that every time you hear a song you think of someone (heralwaysher) She flipped, he flipped. Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1105669368270654592005-01-13T20:08:00.000-06:002005-01-13T20:22:48.270-06:00The end? I think not.A metaphorical needle pierces the vein, injecting some much-needed energy into my system. School begins to wrap itself up. Things for the future begin to roll in from my sidesight, teasing me with a throaty chuckle and a feather boa tickling the back of my neck.
Another chapter of life is over. Another one will slowly take its place, pages turning for your benefit and mine.
Thank you for Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1104905496268617682005-01-05T01:10:00.000-06:002005-01-05T00:11:36.266-06:00Return"There is a fear factory in this division."--Fear Factory, "Securitron (Police State 2000)"
Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1098158029385340882004-10-18T22:50:00.000-05:002004-10-20T23:55:55.606-05:00Dear "Abby"Allow me to drop down to your level, since you critiqued my critique. Wow, that's hypocrisy. So, here's what you get.
You are a smelly cunt, whore.
Comment here at your own risk.
Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1095996049386671292004-09-23T22:11:00.000-05:002004-09-26T00:13:03.710-05:00Essentially, this post is going to be about being pretentious. In my English 401 class, subtitled Advanced Composition, we write creative nonfiction. Apparently this is supposed to be some really new edgy-type stuff. It can include anything from memoirs to essays on well, writing. In other words, sometimes it can be as boring as trimming your nails with a feather, without the cute tickling part. Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1095708830456764132004-09-20T14:33:00.000-05:002004-09-20T14:33:50.456-05:00Oh my God.
Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1094010717275869542004-08-31T22:47:00.000-05:002004-08-31T22:51:57.276-05:00"If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is "God is crying." And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is "Probably because of something you did." --Jack Handey
Oh, that crazy Jack. He really needed a hug as a kid, didn't he? And I'm not sure if I mean the physical lovey dovey type or the sort that you get from a stiff white jacket with theJarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1093405233261479102004-08-24T22:37:00.000-05:002004-08-24T23:10:45.870-05:00Hmm, it's been a couple of weeks.
School started back yesterday. I'm pretty excited about that, but wary as the dickens. It's going to be my first go-around being full-time since the Bad Semester. Those of you that know me know what I'm talking about. Many of you might even have known me during this period. I'd just like to say that your kind words and thoughts during this time made a differenceJarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1091763813475707042004-08-05T22:39:00.000-05:002004-08-05T22:43:33.476-05:00Open eyes reading nothing.A sky harsh blue grins black. A sky harsh blue grins black.
And I bleed and bleed in this wreath of barbs, and I run and run-- but I don’t get far.
Wumpscut "Wreath of Barbs"
Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1090165674546616652004-07-18T10:46:00.000-05:002004-07-18T10:47:54.546-05:00Cryptic lyrics continue! Translate them at your own leisure and risk.
"Break my back. You won't break me.
All is black. But I still see.
Shut me down. Knock me to the floor.
Shoot me up, up. F*ck me like a whore."
KMFDM-Anarchy
Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1089854703450123312004-07-14T20:23:00.000-05:002004-07-14T20:25:03.450-05:00Breaking my back, just to know your name
seventeen tracks and I've had it with this game.
I'm breaking my back just to know your name, but heaven ain't close in a place like this.--"Somebody Told Me" The Killers
This song freaking rocks. It's like uberrockdisco, sort of like Electric Six, but peppier.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1087590691266028982004-06-18T15:29:00.000-05:002004-06-18T15:31:31.266-05:00Well, I won't go into all of the gritty details (mostly because I can't remember all of the places we went) but the family vacation was interesting, if nothing else. No major blowups in the car or anything. Got to see Vegas again, then we went north and looked at a whole bunch of parks in Utah and Colorado and the like, saw the other side of the Grand Canyon, had the parents freak out because ofJarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1087278643835359222004-06-15T00:50:00.000-05:002004-06-15T00:50:43.836-05:00Hah hah! RICK JAMES IS HOME, BITCHES!Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1086580266280616722004-06-06T22:50:00.000-05:002004-06-06T22:51:06.280-05:00To feel your hair.
Only it wouldn't be as simple as that, no.
It would not be so much the feeling of the hair
that would remind me of you as it would that
it remains that it's me, right here, right now,
holding your hair in my calloused and rough hands.
To see you smile.
Lips curl on a shaky highway, making your stomach
do topsy-turvy twirls every time you run across one
of those types of Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1086578263828111602004-06-06T22:16:00.000-05:002004-06-06T22:17:43.826-05:00This is just a short little reminder to people that I'm taking a family vacation for a little while. So if you slowly realize that I'm not around and wonder if I'm dead or not, now you know why. So I'll come back with stories and....well, probably not much else. Maybe my clothes. Anyway, bye for a while.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1086132044578047792004-06-01T18:19:00.000-05:002004-06-01T18:20:44.576-05:00UBERw00t! I got an A in that class I was taking this summer. It was the sleepwise equivalent of cutting your own kidneys out with a dull screw head, but by God, it was worth it if I did that well.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1085805700406342972004-05-28T23:40:00.000-05:002004-05-28T23:41:40.406-05:00Oh, holy crap on a stick. I'm worn out to a frazzle in a cotton shirt that's been washed too many times. I just finished the summer class that's been killing me for the past 3 weeks, so now I get a normal week....maybe.
Exhaustion, damned be your name.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1085189735303937442004-05-21T20:34:00.000-05:002004-05-21T20:35:35.303-05:00"...but I am a writer and depth is a writer's natural element. We are divers, and divers do not lounge on the beach inviting the admiration of the naive, we plug our ears and tighten our goggles and go down below."--Garrison Keillor, "Lake Wobegon Summer 1956"Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1085024289499018852004-05-19T22:31:00.000-05:002004-05-19T22:38:09.500-05:00There's something about seeing a mostly empty parking lot at the high school you went to. It's empty because of graduation, of course, another class of 18 year olds sent out into the open air like termites to chomp at the wood of the world.
I wish I could tell them so much, but even I can't put everything into words. I want to hug them, slap them, beat them with a large hunk of wood, give themJarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1083887231247396712004-05-06T18:47:00.000-05:002004-05-06T18:51:30.890-05:00Whoops. I guess I forgot to update. My bad. Deal with it, by the way.
Finals happened. Think I did okay on most of them.
.....that's about it.
Kbye.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1082154780992557022004-04-16T17:33:00.000-05:002004-04-16T17:36:54.310-05:00So I find myself going out with "the guys" for the first time in a good little while tonight. It should be interesting, we're going to go see a movie when Billy gets off from work, and I'm meeting Johnboy a little early to just hang out and shoot the crap for a while.
While on the phone with John, we talked a little bit about how we'd just end up raising several levels of hell while going Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1081718205662269762004-04-11T16:16:00.000-05:002004-04-11T16:20:32.513-05:00 52.38095238095238% of me is a huge nerd! How about you?Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1081051728138901662004-04-03T22:08:00.000-06:002004-04-03T22:12:24.903-06:00The Dreamless
Envy them that do not trip
over their own dreaming feet
and fall in the mental mud,
slowly drowning in their own
well-lit dreams, charged with
a changing fate you can't ever finish.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1080797046652391382004-03-31T23:24:00.000-06:002004-03-31T23:27:39.280-06:00While at the grocery today, mom was shopping around a little bit to cater for the needs of a couple of relatives (okay, a cousin of mine and his wife). So she's trying to think if we have anything for them to drink back at the house.
Her brow purses as she thinks. "Mountain Dew."
I reply, "Mountain Dew?"
"Didn't they like that the last time they were at our house?"
"I think so."
Mom frowned. Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1080539728211385462004-03-28T23:55:00.000-06:002004-03-28T23:58:56.483-06:00"I'm gonna beat my $%(* like it owes me money!"--Stinky the Grouch, from Chappelle's ShowJarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1080455006803384792004-03-28T00:23:00.000-06:002004-03-28T00:26:54.216-06:00"Ain't it good to be alive? To feel the strong sun against your face, spills over me like the Milky Way."--Edwin, "Alive"Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1080341582396621472004-03-26T16:53:00.000-06:002004-03-26T16:56:27.686-06:00If I'd known then what I do now.
That line's been used before, and for good reasoning.
I'd like to be able to tell my younger self that some of the most anticipated things you wait for in life aren't all they're cracked up to be, at least not in the way you usually imagine them.
I'd like to be able to tell my younger self that he has a bright, glowing future just down the road a piece.
I'd Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1078981483422218502004-03-10T23:04:00.000-06:002004-03-10T23:07:48.606-06:00There's just been so much death lately, it makes you...
No, we won't go into that stereotypical land of wondering about your own faith or morality or whatever words you find for it.
Car accidents happen, people die, and people get hurt.
The old pass away after their allotted time. Of course, believing in how much time you have is a set amount makes you believe in fate, in which case you Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1077771112269137762004-02-25T22:51:00.000-06:002004-02-25T22:54:39.060-06:00I Am A: Lawful Evil Human Fighter Ranger
Alignment:Lawful Evil characters believe that a nice, orderly system of life is perfect for them to abuse for their own advancement. They will work within 'the system' to get the best that they can for themselves.
Race:Humans are the 'average' race. They have the shortest life spans, and because of this, they tend to avoid the racial prejudices that other Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1077171817821432882004-02-19T00:23:00.000-06:002004-02-19T00:26:15.060-06:00To all of the women in the world:
Don't feel fat.
That is all.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1076558778426054252004-02-11T22:06:00.000-06:002004-02-11T22:08:46.483-06:00There are certain questions that the human condition begs to have answered, and through the ages, brilliant men and women of every creed or motto have pondered every possible solution and answer to these. But I think I've found one to stump Einstein, Nietzsche, and Krusty the Clown.
Where, in fact, IS the beef?Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1076027196997822892004-02-05T18:26:00.000-06:002004-02-05T18:28:56.576-06:00I wish there was an award for this, but then again...maybe not.
I'm ranked 6th in Google when searching for Gollum porn.
Hooray!
Or maybe I mean yargh.
Still something of notoriety to add to my name.
And no, I don't actually know where it is.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1076026975883673912004-02-05T18:22:00.000-06:002004-02-05T18:25:15.530-06:00Phew. Well, some wild things have been happening that I needed to write about and uh, forgot. Sorry about that. Have some soup.
First things first. Last Friday was easily the strangest day of my working experience. First off, it's Friday. This is usually a very, very busy day, what with people getting ready for...ah, whatever they do with lots of food on weekends, I don't know, because I'm Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1074230498502275772004-01-15T23:21:00.000-06:002004-01-15T23:23:30.793-06:00"Someday this place it going to burn.
Is your whole life in there waiting?
Someday your head is going to turn and you'll realize
I'm missing, do you realize?" Matthew Good Band, "Suburbia"
"There's holes up in the sky,
the devil punched down to the monkeys.
And now they've got drive thru,
and a video store where there used to be real live actors."--Matthew Good Band, "The Future is X-Rated"
Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1074120194125719132004-01-14T16:43:00.000-06:002004-01-14T16:45:04.530-06:00So, according to Andy Serkis, the actor that portrayed Gollum in all of the latest LotR movies, there's actually a GOLLUM PORN site out there on the 'net somewhere. Am I surprised? No. Do I want to see it? No.
Do I want the hits from people actually looking for it? Well, there'll be quite a bit of them, that's for sure.
And um, the Ring could be a pretty nasty sex toy, if you want to get Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1073883276210411902004-01-11T22:54:00.000-06:002004-01-11T22:56:23.483-06:00Well, work's sucked a big honky lately.
We've had a startling lack of management for a mid-major level grocery store. Quite sad, really. Basically kids showing up and clocking in, talking with a little work mixed in for around 5-6 hours, then getting sent home.
And on an even sadder note, Mike died.
I know, nobody knows who Mike is. I'm sure they're wondering why they should even careJarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1072327141187641682003-12-24T22:39:00.000-06:002003-12-24T22:40:24.093-06:00Scariest. Christmas. Ever.
Well, this is one for the ages. Everyone in the house's blood pressure has been maxed out and down to weak, piddling levels all in the duration of one hour. Around 8:30 we decided to go ahead and open our presents. Good, great, fantastic. We've been waiting all year, right? Well, something like that. We rip paper, open our respective gifts, say our customary Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1071714328726914192003-12-17T20:25:00.000-06:002003-12-17T20:26:42.513-06:00Well, I have work tomorrow. My fever is down from 102 to around 99, which is way way, WAY better as far as I'm concerned. The major symptoms that seem to be left are just an overall lethargy, runny nose, and hacking cough. I really, really wish my lungs had some kind of DVD-ish "eject" button so I could just toss all of this crap out at once. Sure, it'd look like a bloody ball of three Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1071583459385332922003-12-16T08:04:00.000-06:002003-12-16T08:05:31.466-06:008 hours get pretty boring when you can't sleep. There's only so many things you can do.
Well, when I went to bed last night I was having hot flashes (Yeeeaaah! No, you sick freak.) chills, aches in my joints/general soreness, and running a fever of 101.
This morning, add a headache to that, take away the hot flashes chills and aching, and keep the temperature at the same level, and that's Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1071526094242844602003-12-15T16:08:00.000-06:002003-12-15T16:09:51.030-06:00They got me.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1071449774629325172003-12-14T18:56:00.000-06:002003-12-14T18:58:25.060-06:00We got him. What a phrase of Texas justice. Might as well say "Pert near got 'dat boy lokt 'way, reckon?"
Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1070502085718911832003-12-03T19:41:00.000-06:002003-12-03T19:42:20.826-06:00Gahhhhhh, everything but my last final is over for the semester. I've been busting my behind for the past 3 days, and now I want to veg, grow a beard, and play Madden and Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic for THREE DAYS STRAIGHT.
But work beckons. Damn you, beckoning work. Damn you.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1069994513706685892003-11-27T22:41:00.000-06:002003-11-27T22:42:41.090-06:00Well, this is strange.
So far everybody I've talked to today that has actually celebrated the holiday of Thanksgiving has had a craptastic day. Parents getting in their face, sibling rivalries, heck, somebody I probably haven't even talked to yet is sicker than a mental picture of Rod Stewart getting it on with your mom. (From the eating, not the mental picture.)
But my day has been okay. Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1068871219639406192003-11-14T22:40:00.000-06:002003-11-14T22:40:48.936-06:00An older male customer at work said that men grow beards for two reasons: 1. They're not getting enough sleep, or 2. They're protesting something.
It occurred to me, having the current facial hair (if it can be called that) that I might be protesting something. This isn't some external source like protesting Vietnam or legalizing pot, but maybe I'm just protesting something against myself. Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1067825566788277882003-11-02T20:12:00.000-06:002003-11-02T20:13:00.670-06:00Sometimes I lose faith.
Not in religion, because I already don't have faith in that particular society. It doesn't hold anything for me except mysticism, wasted days and already cliched rules to live by. No, sometimes I lose faith in something much more important to me than religion.
My ability to write.
They say in the Bible that Jacob wrestled with an angel, who finally yielded to him. Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1067399783557507122003-10-28T21:56:00.000-06:002003-10-28T21:56:31.186-06:00School's hitting pretty hard lately. Got a test tomorrow and I've had to read 4 stories for my fiction writing class. So far, with the exception of one story with a neat twist, the writing is sub-par and uninspired. I hope somebody else isn't writing this same thing on a blog of their own. But they shouldn't be, heh.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1067137769157689142003-10-25T22:09:00.000-05:002003-10-25T22:09:32.623-05:00Went bowling with Sherry tonight, and she beat me in 4 games straight. Uh, out of 4.
But it was fun. Yeah. I'll just be over here in the corner, plotting....mwaha.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1066943487564460252003-10-23T16:11:00.000-05:002003-10-23T16:11:27.573-05:00Whoo. I'm pissed at the world, surprise surprise. I don't want any of you, and you don't want any of me.
Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1066082154018945152003-10-13T16:55:00.000-05:002003-10-13T16:55:53.426-05:00Great. Just fucking great.
Class sucked today, Sherry fucking thinks I suck, who the fuck am I to argue with logic like that? Any fucking good reasons I shouldn't go wrap myself around a telephone pole? Don't have a gun that would do the trick, so I'm screwed there. I've got 3 cars, curvy roads, and all sorts of fucking medicine in my cabinet. That's all I need.
"Your best bet is to stay Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1065835567831502932003-10-10T20:26:00.000-05:002003-10-10T20:26:07.693-05:00Well, Sherry and I went out for the first time in at least a week today, because I've been recovering from a dastardly cold(which is still hanging on, by the way). While I was in town for a doctor's appointment, we ran over to Red Lobster to grab a bite to eat.
Of course, service was slow, and she ended up taking almost a 2 hour lunch break, but it was enjoyable.
Those damned biscuit things Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1065542539728155242003-10-07T11:02:00.000-05:002003-10-07T11:02:19.886-05:00Sickness! Woe! Despair!
Large chunks of phlegm!
All this could be yours if the price is right.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1064414272292189302003-09-24T09:37:00.000-05:002003-09-24T09:37:52.090-05:00Well, Andrea has managed to put together a list of the type of scum and villainy she's looking for in her quest to be Matriarch of the Pirates. Of course, I'm stuck doing the menial work. Heck, I'll probably even be the poor cabin boy that gets it from the first cannon fired, then the captain or whoever sobs over my shattered body whilst I speak, "I's ne'er got a chance to LIVE, cap'n!"
Or Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1064287038660504132003-09-22T22:17:00.000-05:002003-09-22T22:17:18.620-05:00Late night, brakes lock, hear the tires squeal
Red light, can't stop so i spin the wheel
My world goes black before i feel an angel lift me up
And I open bloodshot eyes into fluorescent white
They flip the siren, hit the lights, close the doors and I am gone.
Thrice, "The Artist in the Ambulance"
This song gives me chills.
Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1063683633641876802003-09-15T22:40:00.000-05:002003-09-15T22:48:28.580-05:00Whoo, some changes around here. I'm actually happy with school and *Gasp* some days I go to work, and now there's a link to my friend Eric's blog, too. And in case he ever reads this, sorry I couldn't make it to your house on Labor Day, chief.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1062906305612970812003-09-06T22:45:00.000-05:002003-09-06T22:45:05.613-05:00So, I'll just go ahead and say it--I screwed up, and nobody is going to change my mind about that.
This happened Friday at work--definitely one of the more stress inducing days we have in the grocery business. Fortunately, everything was going smoothly this day--we weren't too busy, had a good bit of help scheduled, everything was going well.
Then Katy came in.
Katy is a girl that I get Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1062722420103851812003-09-04T19:40:00.000-05:002003-09-04T19:40:20.090-05:00If you ask anybody, they'll tell you that I don't like to blow my own horn. But we've submitted basically 3 things in the fiction writing class I'm in right now, and every time, the teacher, while reading them aloud or to herself, has commented in some fashion or the other that my writer's voice is, and I quote, "Great". There are some pretty darned good writers in that class too, so I'm takingJarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1062474880391849522003-09-01T22:54:00.000-05:002003-09-01T22:54:40.376-05:00So Sherry was running around town today and left a couple of gifts on my car--2 blue carnations, a card, and my sunglasses. Only they weren't mine--she'd gotten the cases screwed up and given me HERS.
Problem is that I really like them. So I'll probably get my own pair.
But I still want MINE back, dangit.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1062282870234044482003-08-30T17:34:00.000-05:002003-08-30T17:34:30.163-05:00So, today was a pretty busy day at work, being the Labor Day weekend and all. I didn't think I'd get off early. Heck, why would I? I don't on a regular weekend, much less a holiday one. So they let me off around 15 minutes early--so I missed Sherry, who was going to leave my sunglasses and a little romantic notion of a flower on my car. Le sigh. Cruel, fickle fate.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1061826769200452422003-08-25T10:52:00.000-05:002003-08-25T10:52:49.196-05:00"How well I have learned that there is no fence to sit on between heaven and hell. There is a deep, wide gulf, a chasm, and in that chasm is no place for any man." --Johnny Cash
Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1061776415318010372003-08-24T20:53:00.000-05:002003-08-24T20:53:35.320-05:00Ahh, the fun time approaches. The 2nd week of school, now that we're all situated, and Sherry's birthday on Tuesday. She won't tell me what to get her, and I'm not sure myself. Mysteries, blarg.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1061251141411650012003-08-18T18:59:00.000-05:002003-08-18T18:59:01.420-05:00"There is still a something in the distance which he has been unable to attain. We have still a thirst unquenchable, to allay which he has not shown us the crystal springs. This thirst belongs to the immortality of Man. It is at once a consequence and an indication of his perennial existence. It is the desire of the moth for the star. It is no mere appreciation of the Beauty before us, but a wildJarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1061164411001066162003-08-17T18:53:00.000-05:002003-08-17T18:53:31.000-05:00It's been a scorching weekend, and I'm tired from work. On the bright side, school starts back tomorrow.
At least it's something different to do, although I'm getting quite tired of it.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1061001391403082662003-08-15T21:36:00.000-05:002003-08-15T21:36:26.433-05:00"GIVE ME CANCER NOW, GOD."--Adam Sandler, from the Zagat's Restaurant Skit from SNL, circa mid 90's.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1060895861420984122003-08-14T16:17:00.000-05:002003-08-14T16:22:13.060-05:00Argh! It was six bazillion degrees today, my shirt at work was almost soaked through with sweat. And now I have to come home and mow the yard!
But I'm so not spring time fresh right now that I could probably roll around in the grass and kill the whole frickin' yard.
I would be afraid to go to the field behind my house for fear that my neighbors cows will start licking me because they've Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1060618440502144282003-08-11T11:14:00.000-05:002003-08-11T11:14:00.483-05:00Yeah, so I forgot to post that we were actually back home.
....
....
My bad. We're home.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1060050863830973732003-08-04T21:34:00.000-05:002003-08-04T21:34:23.783-05:00SURPRISE! Dad brought his laptop from work on our trip toss some mapping software on in case we got uberlost. But the trip is going okay so far, so that's a good thing. We've had some scares, and it's rained almost every day. But we have some pictures of stuff too, which is a good thing. And yes, my hotmail addy had 60 messages in my junk AND inbox folders, but almost none of them were from Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1059617472363848132003-07-30T21:11:00.000-05:002003-07-30T21:11:12.353-05:00Well, the hour grows nigh. We're leaving bright and early tomorrow morning (Or maybe just early, since the sun might not be up). I'm not really sure if I'm looking forward to this--every vacation, apart from where we go, seems the same. We see some stuff, get lost a few times on the way, scream at each other, annoy each other, and then come home. I know they make movies about crap like this, Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1059565017193536552003-07-30T06:36:00.000-05:002003-07-30T06:36:57.066-05:00This is a heads up for those of you that don't know: I'm leaving Thursday (31st) to go on a vacation with my folks, and we're planning on being gone at least 8 days, so don't expect to hear from me any time soon. Lament, ye faithful, lament!Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1059443685287392532003-07-28T20:54:00.000-05:002003-07-28T20:54:45.086-05:00I forgot to mention that Sherry dropped off a huge freaking bag load of stuff for me to work my way through, i.e. books and even an album she burned (with some weird cover art to boot). The books are some of these multi-epic series, like Wheel of Time and Sword of Truth, except these mostly seem to be from the 70's, a period in fantasy I know woefully little about.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1059428409391429972003-07-28T16:40:00.000-05:002003-07-28T16:40:09.353-05:00Sherry stopped by work today, and despite me telling her multiple times that I wasn't angry at her, I still think she's still thinking that. The fact is, that if Lisa (woman that's been making my work a living hell of neverending drama for the past weekend) had seen me talking to ANYBODY, and not doing anything for all of 4 seconds, she would have barked off a command of some kind. I mean, Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1059191902491813132003-07-25T22:58:00.000-05:002003-07-25T22:58:22.283-05:00Just got back from another night with Sherry. I know that people say that variety is the spice of life, but we've pretty much done the same thing for two weeks straight now. Meet up, go to a park, talk/walk around, do some assorted stuff around town between, and then grab a little bite to eat at-of all places-Sonic. The funniest thing is that I never get bored doing this. It's the same Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1059164986392153872003-07-25T15:29:00.000-05:002003-07-25T15:29:46.353-05:00I got my car back!
....and it smells pretty!
I guess that's a good thing.
Right? Sure, I'm right.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1059102589611580062003-07-24T22:09:00.000-05:002003-07-24T22:09:49.610-05:00Something's wrong. I've won 3 games of chess in a row, 1 of which the person I was playing simply smacked me around last time. Now, I don't think I've improved, and I'm not sure you can actually get worse at chess, barring brain damage of some kind, but geez. What's up with that?Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1059086304632895322003-07-24T17:38:00.000-05:002003-07-24T17:38:24.526-05:00Curses! They didn't get my car done today, so they're HOPING they'll get it done tomorrow. Argh.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1058973827930670082003-07-23T10:23:00.000-05:002003-07-23T10:23:47.873-05:00Holy smoking crap! I just got a call from mom, and the bill for my car repair is going to be THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY BIG ONES. The thing is that mom had said she would pay for the 100K mile check-up, but this is a little bit past what she was expecting to pay. With tuition and doctor's bills from a couple of visits last month, I'll be living in cardboard style and sipping up mad puddle water Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1058915113868749582003-07-22T18:05:00.000-05:002003-07-22T18:05:13.813-05:00Well, today was one of my two days off. Yes, my weekend comes in the early or middle parts of the week. I didn't do too much except mow most of the yard, which I loathe....and talk to Sherry while she was at work, at least through e-mail a little bit. I hope it doesn't bore her to death--but hey, if somebody came to visit me at work, or just called to say hello, I'd think it was nice...if a Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1058678851757392662003-07-20T00:27:00.000-05:002003-07-20T00:27:31.646-05:00Oliver Twist I've become, definitely wanting more gruel in my pot.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1058477711150454912003-07-17T16:35:00.000-05:002003-07-17T16:35:11.040-05:00 Your
A rosed envelope snacks on my nostrils,
intoxicating even the town drunk, some inebriated fool that
I have become.
Here the earth's loving bounty
lust'd bursts in my mouth afore the end of the days
I call my life.
A sugar'd saint sails down my neck,
redeeming me until I can't remember
the scent of you.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1058401204816436112003-07-16T19:20:00.000-05:002003-07-16T19:20:04.770-05:00Bwaahahahahaha! Tremble and behold, mortals! The muse has smitten me upside the head, making creative images dance through my cranium like hordes of cattle in "Riverdance". Eat your heart out, Michael Flatley.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1057897902871978192003-07-10T23:31:00.000-05:002003-07-10T23:31:42.850-05:00Jesus, women are confusing. That is all.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1057791600816457512003-07-09T18:00:00.000-05:002003-07-09T18:00:00.630-05:00In some horrible mind game, the teacher of my 5 week summer class had me completely convinced that I was failing everything again, even going so far to say "You should have taken that Incomplete." Needless to say, this did not sit well...considering that I got a C in the class, which is enough to make sure I go back in the fall. Not to mention the admonition, "You can write better than this, Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1057664361728015812003-07-08T06:39:00.000-05:002003-07-08T06:39:21.606-05:00Nightmares always come back, so they say. Or at least they say that in the B flicks that you see on Sci Fi or TNT late at night. For me, one of those nightmares was the semester I had to take off from school because of my poor grades. And now, because of an ill-conceived 5 week summer class with a maximum of 2 overall assignments, I might find myself facing that again. Essentially right now, Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1057635907241247292003-07-07T22:45:00.000-05:002003-07-07T22:45:07.106-05:00Jesus. I think my English department head hates me. How craptastic is that?Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1057027605167717912003-06-30T21:46:00.000-05:002003-06-30T21:46:45.150-05:00"Don't let the front door hit you when you're...stupid."--Brak
Preach on, brother Brak. Preach on.Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-1057026544844097572003-06-30T21:29:00.000-05:002003-06-30T21:29:04.776-05:00"Then the unnamed feeling, It comes alive. Then the unnamed feeling takes me away..."--Metallica, "The Unnamed Feeling"
Preach on, Brother James. Preach on.
Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-957781072003-06-17T22:52:00.000-05:002003-06-17T22:52:53.750-05:00Anyone that knows me knows that inspiration for stories springs almost daily from my work at the grocery store. And why wouldn't it? Almost no day is the same as the other, with more new elements being tossed into the proverbial salad every 8 hours I work. Today while I was doing my onerous duty of cleaning the restrooms (The mens, if you must know) I happened upon some pamphlets promoting Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4043899.post-955709142003-06-11T20:05:00.000-05:002003-06-11T20:05:05.376-05:00Lately the creative juices have started their Tour de Body` around my circulatory system, so I might start writing again dangerously soon. I had to get the word danger in there, because it's DANGEROUS. Whoo!Jarrodhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13336456381652757441noreply@blogger.com