And in the sky hung harvest moon, low on the horizon. It smiled like the cheshire cat, deluded by the modern era and now sucking down it's mischeavious attitude with a cup o' joe and a pack a day, it's teeth a sickly yellow color.

Well you can thank the Mad Prince of Compton for this most resent update to my page. I'm sure you'll love it. The problem that lies in this update is that before I post it I will finish writing a story I've had milling around in my brain for the last oh I'd say twelve months. You see the Mad Prince e-mailed me today 8/22/00 and told me that he liked my page and if I add a link to his page he'll add a link to mine. That's all very nice but it just doesn't work that way. I had to check him out first. I've just been poking about he's site and encase you were wondering it's the "literary pharmaceutical," his words. The most interesting thing I was on his page though was the disclaimers. The stories were good, though I admit as of now I have only read two, but the disclaimers were entertaining. I can't say why. I think it's sort of like window shopping. Avoidance that's why you don't have to face up to what you're saying.

That last sentence probably seemed out of the blue. It's an answer to a question I posed earlier, you can find that. I mean hey I watched a report from the Daily Show about a magician who's hook is that his magic is performed nude. I think that my modest hook isn't that bad.

I've cut my page in half see the older stuff here. And I've cleaned out my links, or rather in the process. You peeps need to tell me about these things!

Pre What's today?

This is a rather odd way to compose a work. I guess necessity forms habit though. I mean most works (if you can call this a work) start form the top and go down. But I know that you how might read my page don't want to scroll through that ever time I make a change.

I find two things happening in this space. The first is that I'm using it more as a journal than anything else and secondly that it's not a very good one because it's not very private. I guess I can be consold that not very may people visit my page and even fewer actually read it... I guess that's a good thing.... anyway. Let's see... hmmm... I've drawn a blank... not that anyone cares I really don't care come to think of it. I rarely go back to reread past "aspirations". I guess I do care sometimes. Why is it that everything has to be either spoken in symbols or as a joke?

Have you ever seen a man get money out of an ATM? I saw it once and it reminded me of another thing I see more frequently: using a urinal. For my feminine readers out there let me describe this to you. He walks up to the wall, cool and composed, with a masculine air of knowing everything. He looks around suspiciously, then whips out his credit card. No I'm not going to describe the urinal scene this is close enough. The process begins. I don't know the exact details of getting money out of the ATM but it involve a Personal Identification Number of PIN for short and sometime during the process of using his PIN he looks around again in more certain suspicion. Silence is maintained throughout. He takes some mild satisfaction in the transaction, but when you get right down to it he only got out of it what he put in.

And again I am left to wonder. Mostly I wonder why I don't listen to what I keep telling myself over and over again. I wonder why it is that I need assurance from another as to my standings are. It's hard to give and not expect to receive.

Pre 8 5 00
Four years and 9 days after I started my first webpage here I am typing again. I can't say that I've come full circle but I have been around. Most notibly I have had a guy call me a sexy bitch on many occasions. My dog died.

Pre 7 19 00

Mayday mayday! We're going down! Well yes and no. I have started writing this new addition on May 1, 2000, but I know I won't finish it today. I resently went down to DC to meet a relative who was in town for the week so that we could go site seeing. My relative and a friend were staying in the Omnishorum (that's probably not spelled right but they took phonetics out of the school corriquelem the year I was in kindergarden. See.) They had valet parking available but we, begin cheap parked it ourselves. As we were driving by the booth that you would pay to park on the way out, situated rather close to the way in, I notice that the attendent, a balding male caucasian, mid-thrities, was looking at the old tickets. This fact still strikes me as a very odd event now a week hense. You can't leave the lot without that ticket being checked.

Pre May 1 00
How tall are you when your trending in shallow water?
There are three types of people in the world those who can count and those that can't. I fall under the third catergory: Those who don't want to.
Boredom has fangs.

People say that life's not fair. I disagree. Life is fair as long as your in love or at war, and if you're not are you truly alive? Better to have loved and lost then never to have loved, never to have lived, at all. At least then you can't say that life's not fair. Life is as fair as my true love's hair. Makes a great poetic line doesn't it. If only it where true. Not that my true love has bad hair, she might, I just haven't seen it, or recognized it for what it really was.

Hey I know I don't get many hits on my page but if you are here at least read some of what I've written, and tell me about it. I have no idea whether it's any good or not tell me! I've already got one response and it wasn't good. Btw I know the formats bad but I'm working on it, just tell me about the stories and such.

It has resently been brought to my attention that this page "SUCKS DEEZ NUTZ", whatever that means. I can neither confirm nor deny this accusation because A) I don't know exactly what it means and B) the commitee in charge of finding this kind of thing out embezzled all funding for additions to this page. If you wish to confirm said report this administration would like evidence for or against. We will keep you informed of any further updates.

On a scale of dog to god where would you rate yourself?

Life is like a field trip and we are forever kindergardeners. We run and play and look at all the pretty things, but when it's time to go home do you know who your chapperone is?

Life, which entered brilliantly in all its glory, now fades. In comes Death? No, Life will wax and wan many times before that foul beast shall feast on its carrion. But something leaves Life as sure as being dead, quietly, exit stage left. And what is left? Naught for the dead that's for sure, or the living dead, who's glossed over eyes seek only shinny things so that, when reflected in their Lifeless eyes, they too might shine. Pick up the pieces and solve the puzzle, that's all that's left to do, and then, maybe, Death will find your carcass too bitter for it's palett.

Wow! What a page! I found it looking up twits. I suggest that you search for the twitfiles and read a few.

I would can no longer stand by any of the claims that I have made about love in the later section of this page. I realize that I know nothing about the subject and that only a fool can judge what he doesn't know.

Have you ever noticed how everything comes back to you all the time? No I don't mean that you are the center of the Universe just that you are the center of YOUR Universe or maybe a better way of putting it is the Universe as seen by you. Everything is in some general sense related to you. The rest of this thought escapes me at the moment, that's why you should always finish what you start. Ah well. (You know I use that phrase to much. Ah w...).

What proof do we have that life goes on without our senses telling us that it does? What proof have I that there are, since 10-12-99, a friends birtday btw, or so he says, 6 billion people populating this globe? And all these people go about their lives much like I do? In the time it would take for me to shake someones hand a baby is born somewhere. Think about that for a minute. The numbers here are staggering, and yet small, when compared to the universe. You might as well believe in God. I don't know if I'm going to change the rest of the page.