I'll take retaliation for 500, Alex.

So, okay.
Life's an asshole. Really, right? I'm definitely not proposing the idea of looking at it as "half full" anytime soon. At least not at the moment. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for a good week this week, so stay tuned.

Dave's sentencing ended up being more than what he was supposed to get, but less than what he should've got, if that made sense. I mean, yeah, it definitely could've been a fuckton worse, but now that he's in for 3-5 months - what he's going to miss out on really sucks (Christmas with his kids, his 30th birthday, his kids' birthdays, my birthday and so on).

I got an email from one of my best friends (circa 7th grade, folks. crazy!) two weeks ago, and she informed me of her mother being in the hospital, and the outlook was lookin' rather grim. Unfortunately, "ma" - as I called her since my pre-pubescent years - passed away this past week, causing my emotional downward spiral to go a little bit faster. Sigh.
At least she isn't suffering anymore, but I can't imagine losing my mom so soon, ya know? I can't help but wonder how my friend is feeling right now, or her dad for that matter.

So much love in that family, it was something to be envied.

I'm getting serious on the scholastic front, which will be nice to report to the parentals. I'm going to start lurking about the campuses downtown to see what I need to do in order to hop back on the bandwagon and such. Should be fun and fucking scary all at once. Insert slight nod with a smile.

Baaaaaah. Other than that, I've been working on preparations for the upcoming snow ridiculousness that will be approaching soonlike. That, and getting a Christmas shopping list together for my dear loved ones, since I had to skip Christmas last year (I felt like such a douche!).

See?
I don't even sound exciting, even after skipping - what, a month? - of writing and updating.

Oh! Halloween. DEFINITELY awesome. I participated in the zombie walk in Grand Rapids (pwned Pittsburgh by a landslide... I just said "pwned"), went to a ridiculous Halloween party (Devil with a blue dress = most frustrating costume to find things for that doesn't make me out to look like a whore or a dunce, ever.) and spat blood on people for Day of The Dead with The Necrophilicons.

This just in: Dave might be getting out after 45 days after all, like originally planned! That'd be awesome.

I'm a loser with nothing much more to say.
How are you kind folks?!

I miss you [all]. (you know who you are.)

I'm voiding humanity for awhile.

So things were flawless and wonderful and naive and "glass half full"...
And then things began to crumble and buckle.
Where am I anymore?
I feel like I'm running out of time, despite my ripe age.
Everyone I know... I feel as though they've passed "Go".
I'm stuck in "Jail", and I don't have a way out.
Don't you have to roll doubles to get out?
Well, I haven't been playing Monopoly enough to remember...
I failed with explaining my analogy.

I'm blank, numb, void.
My tear ducts don't work anymore, even though I want them to.
But I'm sick of being emotional.
It's retarded!
I'm happy, and when something goes wrong, it takes me over like a disease.

It's rough when the ones you love dearly can't get you out of the funk anymore like they used to.

I give up.

I'm very, badly, injured.
In other news.
Went to a show last night, and got knocked the fuck down, and down pretty hard.
Bruises, cuts, blood, possible bruised and/or cracked bone action.
I'm a mess.

I need to get the fuck out of here.
Just for awhile.

The Suburban Pirate Show

This week's special announcement from yours truly, Brimmy:
So it's obvious that I won't be attending Street Dogs in Detroit tonight, but! I will be playing the best there is in underground music from all over the world, and will have some possible special guests!

So tune in, kick back, and enjoy the show, airing tonight at 5pm est!
only ON brimstoneradio. com!

Much love and thanks for the support,
Brimmy
The Suburban Pirate

"The Suburban Pirate Show!" Every Thursday,from 5pm to 9pm est!



Want to talk to the Pirate Hostess herself? Hop in the chat! Go to BrimstoneRadiodotcom and REGISTER for FREE and hop in the chat!



This is how you listen!
WINDOWS MEDIA PLAYER USERS DO THIS:

- Open Windows Media Player

- Go to FILE, then OPEN URL

- Enter this URL: http://66. 45. 239. 202:8024

- HIT ENTER

- it should work.


Feel free to check out these links!
Ickis' Myspace
Brimstone Radio Myspace
Brimstoneradio. com official website

Check this out!






REPOST!

yeah, well.

No update at all, really. A few key things, but not really much to write a few paragraphs about. How about a laundry list?

- Went camping with a skinhead
- It sucked
- Black Cats played in "Narnia"
- Was okay.
- Aunt died
- That sucks.
- Almost got arrested
- Holy shit, thank the stars.
- entered in a PBR art contest
- thank you, Mulligan's.
- everyone's cutting their hair
- seriously, no more dreads, man?
- show at The Clique
- was fun.
- distracting myself as much as possible
- must. take. more. photos.
- Halloween is soon.
- yay.
- been at my crap job for a year.
- what's up, paid vacation?
- had a horrible dream the other night
- made me feel horribly lonely.

...I'm a scandalous catastrophe.
it's cool. I'll live with the superlative.

over and out.

no subject.

I am plagued by the best memories of you.
If you look at the inventory, that's basically all of them.
I wonder if you ever feel the same, or even felt the same, a time back then.
I never knew if you did.
And that simply saddens me to believe my own paranoia.
Prove it wrong, so I feel right.

and every breath is like the one before...

Such events can make it all seem so catastrophic. I really do like that word, being that I have used it frequently in the past couple of weeks. After some recent emotional injuries, I'm confused as to how to get back to square one on life's proverbial gameboard. I've noticed that I've taken to the bottle a bit, as if it were a new best friend. Scary, when you think about it.

I simply have a hard time accepting reality. I live in my own little world, but it's okay. They know me there well enough. I'm not saying that I'm in denial with a lot of things; it just takes me a bit of time to move on and work on making me and me alone happy.

I have a hard time being alone, though. I have an even harder time feeling alone in a house full of people. Which is where I wander to blame myself with little, miniscule things, not arguing even if I had a clear defense, and crumpling up my face when I look away from everyone.

I am so damned irresponsible with my life, it's sickening. I get why I scare people away. I'm a danger zone. I don't go to school, I work bullshit jobs, my friends question me (not all, but some), and I hide things from my family when I hate doing that.

I'm sure you've noticed by now I'm on some kind of "me" complex, but it's therapeutical for me to write, so deal.

I've been reminiscing too much into the past, and it's scaring me, because although there's a lot of good I could be thinking back on, I've done nothing but thinking about the times that were good in the past but hurt me now. I don't get where I think that helps me when I'm trying to clear my head, but it's like an annoying friend that just won't get the hint.

I actually thought about a time when I actually went to my mother for help and she turned the television volume up and ignored my plea, when I told her I wanted to kill myself (no, this wasn't recent, don't worry). That hurts me still, to this day. I don't think of doing such a thing now, since I'm stronger than that, even if it doesn't seem that way now, but to think that my own mother ignored me when I wanted her the most... that kills me anyway. I don't even know what brought that on, but I guess a part of me wants to throw that in her face one day.

But again, I wouldn't bring myself to do that.

On the bright side, I have been trying my damndest keep in contact with friends not so close in location to me; it just sucks when everyone has such weird schedules, or the other person fails to reciprocate (that hurts, by the way.). Sure, I work two jobs and do the radio thing and take pictures and have friends here, but I at least find at least one fucking day a week to try and call or write and I don't get anything in return. What happened, there?
Disclaimer: That was only pertaining to very few, not to the entire gang. Those who are exempt to that mild lashing know who you are.

I have some great friends here that have been keeping me around :) I managed to have a very fun Labor Day with some pallies, along with one that I'm starting to know a bit more, since I've been seeing him around lately. They convinced me to drink whiskey with them on the front lawn. The set-up looked like one hell of a lemonade stand. We were just missing the sign that said so. Although, the bums that roam Eastern Avenue wouldn't have cash to spare for a shot of Canada House. We ended up recording our antics throughout the night, but our timing and supplies were rather off, since we started recording when we were sober (not really funny conversations there) and ran out of cassette recording time. Bummer. However, that won't be the last time.

I'm beginning to feel a bit better as I write this.
I just keep reciting, over and over in my head, that I need some drastic change. I need to either get a new job, a new hobby, go on a fucking date, start a band, go on a vacation... something! It needs to happen rather soon.

In a perfect world, I wouldn't have gotten myself into the shit debt that I had, would have a decent job while going to school for something pretty cool, have a best friend that doesn't act as though he resents me all the time, have some money in the bank, a solid relationship with my family, and perhaps a great relationship with a great guy. I'm scared this will never happen, even though I assure myself on an optimistic scale that it can; I'm just too stubborn and impatient, though. It's a shitty double-standard I have to hurdle over.

Sometimes, though, you just gotta ask for a hug.
That's all that it may take.

Need.

I need people to be honest with me, and the count is lookin' real small.

Write to me, people.

Tell me how YOU feel, or how you felt in the past.
It's killing me inside to never know these answers, but...

...I can't mouth them out over a telephone line.