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Siamese_Figurehead
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Name: Jiouxlius
Gender: Male
Interests: Being an artistic poseur, and feigning profundity and eloquence - forever lost in a cloud of intelligent self-monologue, transcending space and time to a point of no return....and limitless amounts of expensive coffee to drink. I guess you could say I'm a "coffee haus type of guy/gal." this means i am cool and smart. no one's suffering is tantamount to that of mine. *if only my industry could be put down as "super art" - that would perhaps be more fitting*
Occupation: Student
Industry: Art
Message: message me
AIM:  Le CadavrExquis
Member Since:
11/27/2003
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| my nice roommate finally wrote me a letter, and so i've stopped unjustly hating him for not making the first move t'wards our best-friendship. (now that i feel i can just be myself around him) he wrote:
"Hey, this is your roommate at Emerson, Derek, I figured I would write you a letter, if anything, just to establish communication. I don't want to sound like a very presumptuous person (so much so that I don't know how to spell it) but do you like to be called Jules? I know I would if my name was Julius. Well I've got a lot of drinking to do and that beer isn't getting any colder. Hey! get your filthy hands off of my pitcher you son of a...."(and it just fades out there.)
I think he was going to say "bitch", but there's no telling in smoke signals. i gave it a lot of serious thought and so i think i will write or call Derek back. I will tell him that no i do not really like that name, but I do prefer the far superior name of Blanch - or to some, Blanchard. soon the world will know my name in lights as the great Blanch Ross or to some, Blanchard. I like that name because it's not too assuming. Only a very butch dame would own such a name as Blanch, and only such a charming pair of words could score me fame. Perhaps Derek would like to be referred to as D- O'Nealio. like "what's the D-O'Nealio yo?" whatever. as long as he hasn't a similar desire to be called Blanch[ard], i shall be fine calling him what he wants. and if letters had eyebrows, these would be arched! | | |
| so damn. everyone's done gone left me here. i didn't get too many chances to say "see you sometime sooner or later" but i managed what i could for a whole two people. it sounds though like everyone who has left is having a decent enough time abandoning old personalities for more appropos brain changes, usually resulting in things completely uncharacteristic. no doubt the same will take hold of me soon (as if it already hasn't!) i'm just hoping the new people i meet will take the [maybe] murders i make in stride - just accept it as a normal transition of whom i'm to become, and not pause to complain. my parents were too clever for my own good, and found out my smoking hobby. i explained it can't be a habit if you're hoping for a payoff; in this case, What she said "I smoke 'cos I'm hoping for an early death and i need to cling to something." perhaps not in those exact words, and not solely for that purpose. what people need to understand about me is i'm terribly vain (or maybe "terrible & vain.") the nexus of most my supposedly unhealthy actions is the glamor behind it. if cancer in the future is going to score me a client today, i'll take it. so i'll end by telling everyone congratulations. congrats on doing what you're doing, and don't stop for vice's sake. just remember that the sun truly shines from your asshole. I've stopped my rambling, I don't do too much gambling These days, these days. These days I seem to think about How all the changes came about my ways And I wonder if I'll see another highway. And if I seem to be afraid To live the life that I have made in song It's just that I've been losing so long. | | |
| fortunately for me there's not too much to really share. i almost got fired again at the bagel job for showing up 45 minutes late. good thing however i was able to kick it into gear and sat around until the 6 am traffic began to filter in through our doors. here's a story too good to not commit to memory; these two guys always come in the morning and order some shit and sit and then leave and attend their miserable lives only to say hello to routine the next day, and so on and so-forth. well today, man 1 (we shall call him Visitor Q) had a black eye and some scrapes and shit. me being a simple broom pusher with a knack for bagelry just assumed Visitor Q and his companion (Man from Another Place) did some sort of construction work and that's why they're so "hard-ass" looking. my puny form buckles from the strain of ice-buckets, and they sit watching and laughing as they shovel nourishment into their shit-recievers. i go to the back and cry, feed myself something sweet and hope the embarassment goes away. today however, my luck changed with the simple story i'm about to share with you. Visitor Q - i was informed by Robert, the guy who does drag on the side, that Friday night at a gay pride celebration downtown, the very same Visitor Q was mauled by a sassy Mary that had it up to the crotch with sleazy pick-up lines. not only did i feel much better knowing this, i now have something over this asshole. ain't no drag queen gonna beat this shit up! uh-uh.
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| - the boy done wrong again i have a hard time dealing with responsibility. not only do i continually keep finding myself in tough situations, i'm the one putting myself there. i accidentally revealed too soon my secret plans of going away to college to my new boss. i'm convinced though that she's not so much pissed about me directly lying in an interview, or that she'll be out another worker in a month's time, but i think she's really just the type of person that doesn't like to see others succeeding. she's one that only thinks about her, and denies the right to live to everyone she comes in contact with (that's what she be.) i also thought lying to my mother about misplacing a couple hundred dollars' worth of theater tickets would serve me well....but even now that's showing its teeth as being an evil dog that turned. the Thompson Twins are suddenly playing in my head singin' "Lies lies liiiies yeaaaah!"
i really oughta quit. | | |
| so feeding people is a general concept all around - whether it's an old strokie or a hiply impatient socialite; everyone wants their food now now now without any poison poison poison. it'll take some getting used to at the bagel place, but at least i've my invaluable experience at quality food preparation in the back of my pocket (not to mention my deftly honed people skills earned whilst peddling out of my car.) the people at this job are of much better quality than those of the "unmentionable place", not to mention come deliciously with Asiago cheese. i hardly have any problems with most everyone - and the few qualms i do have are easily avoidable or more humorous than terrible. like Leah the indescribable - one thing's for sure....the adjective "Samoan" is proper when addressing her visage, but i've found that both the words "princess" and "drum" work interchangeably as the modified noun. her curveture is considerable, and she's got an attitude to match. really, i'm quite flattered when she overestimates my 'second-day' knowledge of the menu, but then again i get really sad when my inabilities are met with a brown corpulent frown *tear* ;( then there's Nate les Baker - the virginal presence i haven't missed since renouncing my catholicism. he's really nice to me (after i had to explain to him my dyed period-red hair is only the result of using the last drops of christ's blood as a scalp treatment rather than a marker for satanist or homosexual pride - by the way Allie, i had to tell him you're a devoted Altar server.) it's really great when he covers his ears everytime someone utters "dirty words" after catching shrapnel in the face while trying to unjam the slicer with a knife, or burns themselves.....or when Rob shares on of his stories about San Francisco or Ayden his.....um, live-in....friend. Okay, gonna go cross myself and drink some holy water. | | |
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