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THE MANIFESTO REMIX You've been pwn'd by ☡.☠ ** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only ** |
| Have you ever looked at the Power Search demon at the bottom of the page? Watch him. He looks fierce for a brief second, then, as if someone let the air out of him, his eyes get all droopy and depressed. The fight is gone. It's as if he's saying: What's the point? My friends all got jobs on toll bridges and under beds and in closets and here I am, terrorizing a search tool on some internet site. Ho-hum. Poor guy, I hope he pulls himself out of that funk. What makes a search tool demon get that depressed? I dunno, maybe he's just stoned: Dude, that crazy paper-clip from the word program hooked me up with some sweet KB, I'm talking no seeds, no stems....I am SO blazed! Blogging early today, have to shoot some vid tonight and stuff. The first day of my emancipation from janky employment....and it's going smashingly. Had a full pot of coffee, watched Down By Law (Jim Jarmusch, find it and check it out), and now I'm catching up on a bunch of crap I put off for a while. Good stuff. This weekend I'm going to Indiana for another birthday party to crash. Hoorah! Real hoosiers, not the trashy ones we have here in the Lou. I'm talking actual hoosiers who actually enjoy it when you call them that! Weird! Tomorrow I'm taking a crash course in framing and matting from my mom. There are a few art shops around town always looking for people who can do that. I really want to work somewhere where my creativity is a tool and not a casualty of corporate policy. Then again what isn't a casualty of corp. policy? I mean we all have had to sacrifice something for an employer at one point or another. Our pride, our values, our virginity....er, yeah, metaphor....I think. Anyhoo, I'm tired (What's new Dingus?), and looking at a room full of laundry. I should teach organization and use my house as the exercise. "Mary, come on, is that how you organize my underwear drawer? D+!" I used to have this bit about how I'd apply to Elimidate, and the date would be the four chicks coming to my place and cleaning and I'd eliminate them based on their domestic abilities....come to think of it, I may still do that! |
| I've decided to make a dumb choice. An all in bet if you will. Yesterday I was at a winery, Mount Pleasant, in Agusta MO. Wineries aren't really my thing, but I was laying on this huge hill that over looked their vineyard, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. I was laying there with half a glass of wine and half a pack of smokes. The trees, the grass, everything green and living. The horizon was natural and uneven, unlike in the city where it's uniform from rectangular and square buildings. It seemed though that the city followed me. I was surrounded by Webster Groves, Ladue, Kirkwood, St. Louis City, County and unincorporated even though we were hours away. Their chatter was unending and redundant. So I just stared straight up. Blue, blue, blue. Every so often a small white airplane shaped microbe would cross, leaving a tiny white spiderweb line behind it. Jim had disappeared, Jenn was passed out on me (Hampering my drinking and smoking abilities), Jess had never joined us. I was alone and the blue was surrounding me. If you stare long enough, hard enough into the sky, you lose points of reference in your peripherals and find yourself floating in it. You can see the tiny bacteria in the air, senseless chatter is silenced and a single voice you haven't heard in what seems like years is suddenly talking to you. Your ego, bored from being ignored so long, yawns and reintroduces itself. Its seen what's been going on and heard the discussions about it. It knows what kinds of trouble and worries you've been having, but it could care less. It tells you what it thinks you should do. "Set it off!" It says. "What the fuck you still doing here? Go, make your mark, son!" There in blue, blue, blue you see the end, end, end, but you realize you got the means, the wit, the brains, to avoid that end. Your ego is right, why stick yourself in an unhappy circumstance? If you've only done one thing well your whole life..... Down, down, down as voices start calling familiar names. Jess and Jim are standing over me, wanting to know if Jenn's okay. I assume so, I was sort of out of it myself, I tell them. We finish our day at the winery and head home. Today I've been listening to my ego again. He got me into and out of some shit in the past. Drove me to great victories, and lead me into horrible defeats. In the end though if there was one mother fucking voice I trusted in this world, it would be him. Him? Me. My ego. Just because the past few years have sucked, doesn't mean the world has been pissing on me purposefuly, doesn't mean it was my fault. Time to get off the chain, time to do what I do and make them take note. Time for a dumb decision. I'm not going to that shit-house job tomorrow, or the next day, or ever again. I got things to get done, and things to conquer still yet. |
| Okay, let's play Rainman and look at numbers: For the first time in a long time the percentage of females reading this has fallen below 80%. The average age of the reader has risen (25-39), and singles now only lead the married people by 4. Some college and College degree are running neck & neck. Income has risen a little too, but not enough....make money you lazy bastards! This is the fact that I found interesting: Roughly 2% of links to this come from Google searches for my name. The searches are usually my full name attached to The Arch City Chronicle, but some are for Z.Hume which has only appeared here and on The Verse Marauder. Humm, made me think, so I googled my own name to find out what else could be had. Firstly, I misspelled my own name "zack bowersos" and Google asked me if I meant "zack bowersox". Yes, yes I did. Okay, if you search Zack Bowersox you get: http://mymovies.imdb.com/name/nm2212598/, which is my lacking imdb.com page. You get the WdC site and The Arch City Chronicle. If you search Z.Hume you get the WdC stuff, but then I found this: http://www.aglabs.com/newsletters/action_reaction.html, which has this in it: It is important that the stalks are incorporated into the soil after spraying. Z-Hume is the actual microbe in a liquid humate solution. Z-Hume has all three main groupings of bacteria. There are Aerobic, Anaerobic and Flaculative. Oh no sir, I am never Flaculative. Good stuff. I think that, unlike a lot of you guys, I've pasted my name all over this thing. I'm not hiding from anyone, I doubt a novice writer from Boise or Deluth or something would try and steal my identity (no point, it's a profitless identity anyway). So I was wondering about you guys: Do you think it is safe to reveal your identity in an online community? Obviously you do on your myspace or friendster (I still think that's the jankest name for a site) pages. So why not here? Anyhoo, I got nothing else. I'm procrastinating with the video work and all. OH! Last nights softball game we blew balls hard style. Oh well. Tonight I was invited to a trivia night....you see that, smoke some weak talent and these things are brought to your door. |
| ....is a hard word to spell....or make up. What it means? You tell me - So I went to this bar last night and played ths trivia game. Jim and I smoked the freaking Wash U kids in the first round. The topic was current events and that basically equaled US politics (sans: "What country,etc.etc.etc., typhoon and mud-slides = The Phi. How did I know that?). That's a bucket of beer for the Scrotal Stompers (our team name). Anyhoo, so I'm going to be transferred not fired or anything like that, but today they offered me a position w/ a better company (in my opinion) but with less pay. How do you figure that? Whatever. Gotta get out of that place. The CARDINALS game is about to start. We got a weak pitcher on the mound, I'm kinda nervous. Nothing beer can't cure, but daddy can't have all his medicine today though, softball game tonight. Speaking of beer..hold on a minute....nope, too uncomputer to do that. Go find a song called "BEER!" by Psychostick...good listenin'. So, good vibes for the CARDINALS good vibes for the Scrotal Stompers, and good vibes for me, why not, I'm the only player on our softball team with a batting average above .500! Gonna need Nolan Ryan on the mound! Squid Softball rules. |
| I'm tired. I'm not gonna go over that issue I've been whinning about for like a week now. Instead I'm gonna talk about something else....I dunno what though. Hey, Tin good to see you and E back in the office. I docked your pay for the past week. It's hot here in St. Louis, kinda pisses me off cause I want to wear jackets. What kind of a man goes without a jacket! Or a handkerchief! Or a snuff-box! The new crap here on WdC looks....cheesy. Or maybe that's just cause I ain't a Halloween fan. I know something that annoys me! Brides. Yes, you are getting married congrats, but if you expect the rest of the entire world to consider your blessed day as important as you do, I got sorry news for ya sister.....demanding that a guy move his car so you can gas up before him because "I'm on my way to fucking rehearsal dinner!", that's not being a lady, or polite, or gracious, that's a ten-point bitch attack right there. The guy didn't move his car if you were wondering, he got a finger and cuss-out for his troubles. Brides...and you're only a bride for one day! Get over it! The most important thing is the rest of your life with that dude who picked you up while you were bartending at Applebees. "I wanna be a princess!" Get over it! The world will not stop for you! Oh man and while I'm at it grooms, where the fuck ya at? Perhaps if you got off your lazy asses and helped with the wedding she wouldn't be so gripey. Come on, guys, I've thrown myself on the hand grenade multiple times for you, now do me a favor and STUFF THE INVITATIONS INTO THEIR ENVELOPES. Don't know where that came from. Just a wedding thing I guess....crab cake, always have crab cake at the reception....and an open bar. |
| THE CARDINALS OVER THE padres5-1 That's how you start the playoffs!!!!! So I missed blogging yesterday cause I was wooped up! I played softball in our league and let me tell you, my thighs are still hurting and my throwing arm is shite. We lost both games, but, and note that I haven't swung a bat in like a year and a half, I'm batting 1.000 with 2 RBIs and a run scored. No fielding errors which surprised me cause I haven't played under lights in so long. But anyhoo..... I saw The Science of Sleep Sunday....... A-Fucking-mazing. Gondry has a view of this world I wish I had. I just can't see things the way he does, and I'm in awe of his vision. Great, great, film. A little pedantic or inkhorn-ish, as far as film language is concerned, but even peeps who don't understand film theory should enjoy the imagery. This is a drunk blog believe it or not. A little wasted after the Cards game, but look how well I hold it together. That's why the blogging community calls me MR.OCTOBER Nothing new on the job front, I'm beginning to think that I am undesirable to employers. Now, I've been undesirable to females for awhile, but my excuse for that (lesbians) doesn't translate to employers so I need to devise a new excuse. (Anti-Methodist?) I'm beginning to feel like Hunter S in Fear and Loathing: The possibility of mental and physical breakdown is great. If there would ever be a day where I this thing just stopped updating or I stopped reading your blogs, here: zbosox@yahoo.com. Use that to contact the hinterlands of this Bolivian jungle Che and I are hiding in. Anyhoo, I gotta go to work tomorrow, my fate already sealed no doubt as far as that job is concerned. Like Toshiro Mifune in Throne of Blood (Kurosawa...have we been learning our film history?) I've heard my fate and face it with archers poised to level me.....or something along those overly dramatic lines. Okay, business to attend to and sleep to be had. Ahhh, sleep... |
| .....and we're all watching football anyway. A ganked bit from http://stlouisraver.com, don't ask me to find it again cause I can't luckily I ganked it before I lost it. Some of you may be too young, or too foreign to understand this, but if you can remember seeing the episode of The Simpsons where Bart declares war on Nelson..... You're a 90's kid if: You remember watching Doug, Ren & Stimpy, Pinky and the Brain, and Two Stupid Dogs You've ever ended a sentence with the word "psyche". You just can't resist finishing this - "Iiiiiin West Philidelphia, born and raised..." You remember TGIF on ABC You got super excited when it was Oregon Trail day in computer class at school (I always hunted, so my party usually died of syphilis or something) You remember reading "Goosebumps". You remember the craze, then the banning of slap bracelets and slam books. You still get the urge to say "NOT" after almost every sentence...not Where in the World is Carmen San Diego? was both a PC game and a TV game show. Captain Planet. He's a hero. You knew that Kimberly, the pink ranger, and Tommy, the green ranger, were meant to be together. You remember watching The Magic School Bus, Wishbone, and Reading Rainbow on PBS. You remember when Yomega yo-yos were cool. You remember those Where's Waldo books. You remember when Mortal Kombat waz tha shit! You remember eating Warheads. You remember Ring Pops. You remember drinking Fruitopia and Surge. You remember making those little paper fortune cookie things and then predicting your life with them. You knew all the characters names and their life stories on "Saved By the Bell". You played and/or collected Pogs. You haven't always had a computer and it was cool to have the internet. You had a favorite New Kid on the Block and knew all their names (Call me Donny) All your school supplies were Lisa Frank (That's a chick thing I think) You remember a time before the WB You owned a portable tape player and know what an original Walkman is. You always said, "Then why don't you marry it?" You remember wanting to sit on the orange Nickelodeon couch. You remember the Macarena by heart. "Talk to the hand"...'nuff said. You remember when making out was sex. (I don't get this one) What about "Double Dare"! |
| ....and I'm a mutha fucking astronaut. So today after work I ran by the Artist's Lair, it's this studio and holds the offices of the webzine by the same name (http://www.artistslair.com). I had been talking to this guy Cody (ironic after that comment the other day eh) about writing for them, and was asked to come meet him and see the place. It's tight. They're opening up another side of the building to use soley as a gallery. The studio on the other side will hold the mag and classroom where they teach a variety of subjects (from belly dancing to web design). The whole thing is non-profit and pretty sweet. Anyhoo, it was cool. Cody and I talked movies and ideas, and this week I'll work up a piece for them on a local filmmaker I know. It's non-paid as of yet, which doesn't help out my situation, but could be if they get the right grants and funding. Also, if they get enough people to sign up I'll teach screenwriting classes for like twenty bucks an hour there. Sounds like a lot but for like one or two classes a week, at maybe 3 hours tops (probably more like 1-2) it won't be bank, but I guess that's a start. Today I finally turned in my Shot Heaven story from a week ago. I had so many ideas and so much time on my hand I nearly blew it I think, hell I might have blown it, won't know until Monday. It's like an easy lay-up in basketball, you always miss the wide open ones. I'm nervous about calling my mom. I hate myself for what i may have to do in the future which is borrow money. If I lose my job, I could be forced to crawl back under her paternal wing like a failed hatchling. No, I didn't fly right as I left the nest, yes, I realize that I was foolhardy and naive in my expectations of life. It would so much easier for my dad to help out, he makes more money than any of us combined, but where the hell has he been? Not here, off with some broad named Charlotte. Oh well, Orwell was poor for a while too. Maybe it would be good for me. I'm so hungry and tired I lack the energy to eat or sleep. Gonna stare at the wall for awhile and see what it has to say. "I'm flat and white," says the wall. "Funny, me too! Oh, you got something on your face, my bad that's a picture." Anyhoo, Blunderbust Jones over and out, I'm off to Mars then Pluto....which is not a planet. |
| Let's guess Dragon's name. I've tried my best, and although it's the best any of us can do, I think that just maybe we can do it if we all pull together. We have clues: 1) It ends with an E 2) It's not Christine, Kristine, or Anne. And that about does it. But, being the Sherlock Holmes like fellow that I am, I'm sure we'll pull this off. So we together? Unless Ashley makes us all do a quiz again, (which isn't at all unforseeable) we should have the man hours to get this important, vital mission complete. My guess of the day: Madaline. Okay, enough of that, that's a think problem. I really did bum me mum out yesterday. I knew I did, I know that chick better than anyone. Anyhoo, she called me at work, which rarely happens, and asked what i would think about going to talk to....a counselor. I said: "Thank you, no, mom. Ean's got that plot locked up, I'm sticking with the irresponsible, lack-luster, lovable-loser thing I got going." So that's not what I said, I copied the number she wanted to give me down. That's just me ma', a worry wart. The job hunt has died. Not because I've stopped looking I've just seen everything. Nothing new until the Sunday paper. If I wanted to work sales I could have like 80 jobs, but I tried that once and sucked. "Would you like to add the blah, blah, blah for only $90 more? No? Yeah me neither this is all a rip-off, you're better off spending that money on booze." I sold children's shoes. Anyhoo, this is how I figure it: I lose my job Sunday, and then I default to student again. "What do I do, why I'm a student. What do I study? ......er, um, female bodies!" But even that's a lie....I'm no biologist! For once in my life I'm stuck. I've always been able to talk my way out of everything (except taxes and infidelity), but now, I've got no one to talk to this time though. I'm going to lose my job because of an error I made. I've given my mouth little grounds to battle on here. Eh, so what, I die in a ditch. Better than a brothel!....wait, no, no it isn't....but it's better than dying without my boots on, but I take those off when I get in ditches. So I'm basically F-ed in the A. Anyhoo, newsletter assignments, accept them or turn and face the wall! Why don't we have Stacy edit, let's get some argumentative peeps for that bit, Nobody and I'll ask J.P. Farris if he's down, and let's see.....well, come to me people! I neeeeeeeed you, that's right I'm talking to you! EDIT Okay, I gotta thank pencilsoverpens   & haremprincess for a humor MB. Jessica sent it, but told me to thank Tin. I'm thinking Jessica lost a bet. "The first one to blink has to...." that kinda thing. Thank you both!!!!! |
| welkerdeb gave me a "Determination" MB yesterday. Thank you so kindly, I feel rather determined right now. Where as an hour ago I was feeling quite un-determined. BUSINESS I just want to ask (Based on the poll Ashley ordered us to take): If you all hate bad spelling what are you doing hanging out here. I meen, holi crapp, I sook at spelting wurds. Second item: Think newsletter people. Who's gonna be the next editor? You, or you, or perhaps yo....no, you suck, but the person behind you perhaps, yeah the funny one with the cow-lick and retainer, could be you! People come to me, let me know how to better service you (That's what she said! Parenthetical joke of the night brought to you by: Tampax). THE BLOGGY BITS So today I e-conferenced with this dude setting up a webzine for the local art scene (and by e-conference I mean e-mailed back and forth). It's a tight site, the guys all seem really cool, and they either pretended to like or really did like an idea I pitched them. It's all volunteer though...no pay....oh well, I'll live off of good intentions. I think I depressed the hell out of my mom today too. I had to run by her place to pick some stuff up and didn't hardly speak but sat there silent. I didn't even realize it, I've just been stressing so much over the campaign video, the job crap, the post-war occupation of Iraq, the post-Bush occupation of the White House, and the post Zack Occupation of the Manifesto that I didn't have anything to say. I really bummer her out though I think. I've been resume-ing and applying fairly steadily. I want to get out of the city, A, cause the commute is killer. I'll just party in the city. And I want to get out of, B, this pair of pants that I stained with ink...Okay, there was no B, but we get the picture. The commute isn't that bad distance wise, it's just rush hour traffic is murder on highway 40. (I'd tell you to ask Gabs but she don't use highway 40...she's a chicken Parenthetical sick-burn of the night has been brought to you by: Saturn) So, that's where I'm at, which is where I was yesterday and quite possibly will be tomorrow. Nothing ever changes except the expanses of forehead from my thinning hair. Gospodi pomolov! |
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