Whose Fault Is It?
Moderators: AArdvark, Ice Cream Jonsey
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bruce
- Posts: 2544
- Joined: Tue Jun 04, 2002 10:43 pm
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Ice Cream Jonsey
- Posts: 30067
- Joined: Sat Apr 27, 2002 2:44 pm
- Location: Colorado
- Contact:
"M-O-O-N, that spells this is INTOLERABLE." -- Tom Cullen, The Stand
Think of this place as one of those dinner parties that otherwise-miserable New Englanders attend to give themselves an excuse to wear Halloween masks held up by sticks and an excuse to get as hammered as the rest of us do when we start simply getting the eye from that $3.27 bottle of <strike>green</strike> grape "Mad Dog." Worm is the guy in the corner venting about how the golf course expansion is going to block sunlight from his award-winning, bloom-once petunias. Danzaland is the one who paid cash for his costume so that the government couldn't track him and his desire to show up as a lariat-toting cowboy. Nessman is the one who had his architect draw up plans for a 10' wall to seal off the thirty acre estate of the Robsons because a distant cousin of the family got roomed with a minority at Brown this semester. You, though -- you're crapping all over your pants by the punchbowl, causing everyone's monocle and pince nez to pop out and the old hag equivalent of Jethro Q. Walrustitty (who is actually, aside from some burned-out ovaries, utterly indistinguishable from the real Jethro Q. Walrustitty) to exclaim, "Well! I never!"
This isn't a (emotionally) healthy place for you to be kicking around right now. It couldn't be. You need to take some time off from all of this. This place is a hotbed for dopey optimism regardless of how genuinely good the various denizens feel, and it's going to come off as nails against the blackboard of your life to read post after post along those lines. I'm not sure exactly what it is you are looking for here. I'm not going to apologise for clicking with someone I had known since I was a freshman at Syracuse who had been single for a month when she flew out here, and who I had pretty much clicked with years ago as she was watching Sportscenter with my roommate and I in the dorms and asking questions like, "Hey, how long is 120 Minutes on MTV?" I don't even really think that you're looking for that when it comes right down to it. I'm not sure at all.
But regardless of how your posts of been on here I know that you're not someone who truly does embrace misery and despair and suicide in all of its many forms. In all seriousness, I would be shocked that if, within a couple weeks from now, you haven't already hooked up, met up, gone on a date, bumped uglies, thrashed uglies (thrashed is the new bumped), had some big alcoholic drinks, had some small alcoholic shots or had some bigger alcoholic drinks that contained within them a gaggle of even smaller self-sustained alcoholic shots with a girl. Don't start an Ace and Gary thread on this, but you're a good looking man and your sidekick is a self-confessed Abe Lincoln lookalike which is going to give you both a presidential air when you go out. I think, in some time here, you're gonna be fine. Until that happens, for the love of Christ, I don't think you really, at heart, want to write posts which cause diabetes to become a sentient disease with opposable thumbs and Internet access or whoever it was that posted up above.
There are a lot of talented and funny people on this board and regardless of whether or not you are pissed at me, they are certainly the sort of people whose respect would be desirable for anyone who posts messages to the web or Usenet or Yahoo Groups or anything in between. There are a lot of engaging people in all the places you encounter on-line. Getting respect from all of them is impossible if you don't wish to throw your content train into a forward gear. I mean, hell -- Pinback had just about everyone on here pissed as all fuck at him, but after throwing up a few of those Army of Love threads in the Nod forum the bunch of us were eating content out of his bare hand.
But yeah. Take a break and let your head heal. I'm pulling for you to pump it up and get back to your old self, but I know from equivalent experiences in my own past that hanging on-line with a bunch of people wearing permanent Mad Hatter grins doesn't aid the process. Get yourself well, m'man.
(And besides, the next couple of weeks will probably have this place reduced to a long, three-person diatribe on who can move their little gunner dudes around the screen in a more engaging manner in Laser Squad Nemesis. It's going to be about as compelling to those not playing the game as hearing Captain Christopher Pike blink in binary code about how his day went is to his hired Vulcan watchnurse.)
Jesus, Mary, Mother of God! When your life gets off pause? The hell is this?Teufel ZeKK wrote:I'll get back to you when I take my life off pause.
Think of this place as one of those dinner parties that otherwise-miserable New Englanders attend to give themselves an excuse to wear Halloween masks held up by sticks and an excuse to get as hammered as the rest of us do when we start simply getting the eye from that $3.27 bottle of <strike>green</strike> grape "Mad Dog." Worm is the guy in the corner venting about how the golf course expansion is going to block sunlight from his award-winning, bloom-once petunias. Danzaland is the one who paid cash for his costume so that the government couldn't track him and his desire to show up as a lariat-toting cowboy. Nessman is the one who had his architect draw up plans for a 10' wall to seal off the thirty acre estate of the Robsons because a distant cousin of the family got roomed with a minority at Brown this semester. You, though -- you're crapping all over your pants by the punchbowl, causing everyone's monocle and pince nez to pop out and the old hag equivalent of Jethro Q. Walrustitty (who is actually, aside from some burned-out ovaries, utterly indistinguishable from the real Jethro Q. Walrustitty) to exclaim, "Well! I never!"
This isn't a (emotionally) healthy place for you to be kicking around right now. It couldn't be. You need to take some time off from all of this. This place is a hotbed for dopey optimism regardless of how genuinely good the various denizens feel, and it's going to come off as nails against the blackboard of your life to read post after post along those lines. I'm not sure exactly what it is you are looking for here. I'm not going to apologise for clicking with someone I had known since I was a freshman at Syracuse who had been single for a month when she flew out here, and who I had pretty much clicked with years ago as she was watching Sportscenter with my roommate and I in the dorms and asking questions like, "Hey, how long is 120 Minutes on MTV?" I don't even really think that you're looking for that when it comes right down to it. I'm not sure at all.
But regardless of how your posts of been on here I know that you're not someone who truly does embrace misery and despair and suicide in all of its many forms. In all seriousness, I would be shocked that if, within a couple weeks from now, you haven't already hooked up, met up, gone on a date, bumped uglies, thrashed uglies (thrashed is the new bumped), had some big alcoholic drinks, had some small alcoholic shots or had some bigger alcoholic drinks that contained within them a gaggle of even smaller self-sustained alcoholic shots with a girl. Don't start an Ace and Gary thread on this, but you're a good looking man and your sidekick is a self-confessed Abe Lincoln lookalike which is going to give you both a presidential air when you go out. I think, in some time here, you're gonna be fine. Until that happens, for the love of Christ, I don't think you really, at heart, want to write posts which cause diabetes to become a sentient disease with opposable thumbs and Internet access or whoever it was that posted up above.
There are a lot of talented and funny people on this board and regardless of whether or not you are pissed at me, they are certainly the sort of people whose respect would be desirable for anyone who posts messages to the web or Usenet or Yahoo Groups or anything in between. There are a lot of engaging people in all the places you encounter on-line. Getting respect from all of them is impossible if you don't wish to throw your content train into a forward gear. I mean, hell -- Pinback had just about everyone on here pissed as all fuck at him, but after throwing up a few of those Army of Love threads in the Nod forum the bunch of us were eating content out of his bare hand.
But yeah. Take a break and let your head heal. I'm pulling for you to pump it up and get back to your old self, but I know from equivalent experiences in my own past that hanging on-line with a bunch of people wearing permanent Mad Hatter grins doesn't aid the process. Get yourself well, m'man.
(And besides, the next couple of weeks will probably have this place reduced to a long, three-person diatribe on who can move their little gunner dudes around the screen in a more engaging manner in Laser Squad Nemesis. It's going to be about as compelling to those not playing the game as hearing Captain Christopher Pike blink in binary code about how his day went is to his hired Vulcan watchnurse.)
the dark and gritty...Ice Cream Jonsey!
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pinback
- Posts: 17849
- Joined: Sat Apr 27, 2002 3:00 pm
- Contact:
In other words, the healing cannot begin while you're still hanging around a razor factory.
As one who has recently had to go through the torturous process of this sort of healing, I would now like to oraculate my thoughts on how to best go about the process of getting that particular show on the road, even though the show is, in general, about as entertaining, enjoyable, and amusing as the upcoming episode of 8 Simple Rules where they write in Ritter's death.
I will do this, so as not to bore the rest of the crowd, in the inimitable style of Howard Beale (played by the late, great Peter Finch) in the movie Network:
I don't have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. You're depressed. Everybody's out of love or scared of losing their girl. The dollar buys a nickel's worth of flowers for a woman you don't even have. You're looking for a gun under the counter. Punks are running around with the girl you love and there's no one anywhere that seems to know what to do about it. You know the air tastes bitter, your food tastes bitter, and you sit watching your TV while some Sysop in Colorado tells you that today he had 15 blowjobs and 63 orgasms as if that's the way it's supposed to be. We know things are bad. Worse than bad. They're crazy. It's like everything everywhere is going crazy so you don't go out anymore. You sit in a house as slowly the girl you we're living with is getting farther and farther away and all you say is, "Please, at least let me come on this BBS. Let me make jokes, and jab at Jonsey, and make gay accusations and I won't cause trouble, just leave me alone." Well I'm not going to leave you alone. I want you to get mad. I don't want you to commit suicide. I don't want you to stalk anyone. I don't want you to write to her because I wouldn't know what to tell you to write. I don't know what to do about your depression and the heartache and the other people on this board and the crying in your beer. All I know is first you've got to get mad. You've got to say, "I'm a young, virile stud, God dammit, my pecker has value!"
So, I want you to get up now. I want you to get up out of your chair. I want you to get up right now and go to the window, open it, and stick your head out, and yell, "I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this skanky whore!" I want you to get up right now. Get up. Go to your window, open your window, and stick your head out, and yell, "I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take this skanky whore!"
Things have got to change, my friend. You've got to get mad. You've got to say, "I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take this skanky whore!" Then we'll figure out what to do about your depression and the heartache and the crying.
But first, get up out of your chair, open your window, stick your head out and yell, "I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take this skanky whore!"
Get it? Got it? Good.
As one who has recently had to go through the torturous process of this sort of healing, I would now like to oraculate my thoughts on how to best go about the process of getting that particular show on the road, even though the show is, in general, about as entertaining, enjoyable, and amusing as the upcoming episode of 8 Simple Rules where they write in Ritter's death.
I will do this, so as not to bore the rest of the crowd, in the inimitable style of Howard Beale (played by the late, great Peter Finch) in the movie Network:
I don't have to tell you things are bad. Everybody knows things are bad. You're depressed. Everybody's out of love or scared of losing their girl. The dollar buys a nickel's worth of flowers for a woman you don't even have. You're looking for a gun under the counter. Punks are running around with the girl you love and there's no one anywhere that seems to know what to do about it. You know the air tastes bitter, your food tastes bitter, and you sit watching your TV while some Sysop in Colorado tells you that today he had 15 blowjobs and 63 orgasms as if that's the way it's supposed to be. We know things are bad. Worse than bad. They're crazy. It's like everything everywhere is going crazy so you don't go out anymore. You sit in a house as slowly the girl you we're living with is getting farther and farther away and all you say is, "Please, at least let me come on this BBS. Let me make jokes, and jab at Jonsey, and make gay accusations and I won't cause trouble, just leave me alone." Well I'm not going to leave you alone. I want you to get mad. I don't want you to commit suicide. I don't want you to stalk anyone. I don't want you to write to her because I wouldn't know what to tell you to write. I don't know what to do about your depression and the heartache and the other people on this board and the crying in your beer. All I know is first you've got to get mad. You've got to say, "I'm a young, virile stud, God dammit, my pecker has value!"
So, I want you to get up now. I want you to get up out of your chair. I want you to get up right now and go to the window, open it, and stick your head out, and yell, "I'm as mad as hell, and I'm not going to take this skanky whore!" I want you to get up right now. Get up. Go to your window, open your window, and stick your head out, and yell, "I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take this skanky whore!"
Things have got to change, my friend. You've got to get mad. You've got to say, "I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take this skanky whore!" Then we'll figure out what to do about your depression and the heartache and the crying.
But first, get up out of your chair, open your window, stick your head out and yell, "I'm as mad as hell and I'm not going to take this skanky whore!"
Get it? Got it? Good.
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Vitriola
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Vitriola
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Vitriola
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Worm
- Posts: 3626
- Joined: Sat Aug 24, 2002 12:53 am
- Location: tucked away between the folds of your momma, safe
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Ice Cream Jonsey
- Posts: 30067
- Joined: Sat Apr 27, 2002 2:44 pm
- Location: Colorado
- Contact:
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Teufel ZeKK
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pinback
- Posts: 17849
- Joined: Sat Apr 27, 2002 3:00 pm
- Contact:
Ouch. Man. That does hurt to read.Teufel ZeKK wrote:Sorry it didn't work out Vitriola. I tried.
They're all the fucking same, ZeKK. Fucking bitches. You give 'em your heart, and they all look at it and go, "Hmm, wonder what I should do with this!" Then they go to their little Magic 8-Ball (Bitch Edition) where every single side of that little die says "Grind it into a bloody pulp with the heel of your FUCK ME boots! Tee-hee!!"
All the same.
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Matedire
Icream in my pants when I hear his name Jonsey wrote:
Ok, but it adds "structure" to my already fucked up face. See, I cant grow hair on my upper lip, because I think I ate to many bitches out and that had some chemical reaction to my upper lip. Pinback, when I first came to this board I though you were a dick and you scared me, actually I feel the same way today, but with those last posts, you hit one of those things in me that, takes a lot of talent to get to, my emotions. I feel better that you encourage Zekk to take those kind of actions. My respect has grown for you, thankyou for becoming "real' for a moment and showing a possible true side of you. Now I most go back and take control over my new forum....is a self-confessed Abe Lincoln lookalike which is going to give you both a presidential air when you go out.