Fairy Tale

There once was a boy whose father angered him so much that he got his revenge by becoming him. That'll show `em.

Beep beep beep

Hey Net-heads,

I've been a frickin' internet fiend of late. Very little outdoors time and lots of bouncing from blog to blog seeing if anything new is happening in anyone else's life. Hmm. This is a sure sign that I need more activities.

Myspace.com ruined my will to live. I've joined this sinister networking tool and now I'm obsessed with fleshing out my "friends" list. I only have 6 right now. It's like a personal affront to only have 6! I've got more friends than 6! I swear. Muh. Ok. 6. Fine. Great. We'll just all go out to Applebee's and get seated at two "4-tops" smashed together. That's fine. We don't need to sit at "table 100" with its 8-10 seating accomodations. They don't clean the seats of that one very well anyway.

I'll be travelling to the South again to visit my Destructicon. :) That should be a much needed vacation 2.0. I just hope that the sub-saharan heat of Pigeon Forge doesn't further my shut-innity. It's a word. Ask Brognacious Phelps.

NO YOU DI'IN'T!

Margloe

Zooom into the Future! (tm) 

Feelings of remorse for our contemporaries

Combing through the internet this afternoon I've managed to run across the names (well, screenames) of three different former friends whom I've alienated through arguments, fundamental disagreements, or deliberate choices. I realize that I've often been unwise or insensitive in my treatment of others. People do indeed change as time passes, and old business that I was angry about back in high school or college now seem unimportant. I suppose that this is the case with everybody - that's why you see the old man in the movies seeking deathbed reconciliations. It is a tricky endeavour to advance your own well-being at the expense of someone else's feelings. If you try to spare the feelings others by denying your own wishes, you can often turn a bad situation even worse. I suppose that my point is that I'm not without remorse for hurting the friends of my youth. Hmm. Sorry it's not funny, this one. Hey: goats raped my sofa. Okay, that might be a sensitive issue as well... Damnit.

Muh. I gotta get out of the apartment.

Mr. Norrell

You're a Zombie. Nuuuh.... Yes you are.

What's up ewemans?

This summer is getting mungley. I'se tired of my crasses and my workstuffs, simultaneously I'm aggrevated by my lack of stuff to do/people to do it with (sexually) [nah y'all, not sexually, I just playin'].

Little Mikey Mrrrnowski has left Johnny Longform. And soon our Paterfamilias George C will be leaving Columbus for the sunny silt of Los Angeles - that means "the Angels" in Mexican. It seems that my reasons for living in Columbus are growing slim. No more Destructicon, disintegrating comedy quartet, no more JOHN BODYCOMBE! What's a 2nd year MA to do? Cry. Long and hard into the night (sexually) [ah shit dawg, you just keep running yo mouf].

Bat whutever. This one can be officially categorized as a "bitchy blog entry". Send me purple ponies.

I thought I was Neo, so I slashed your tires.

M

Fungus denies my lullabyes

It's 2:20am and I am in the computer lab of ACCAD. It's the nesting bed of great student animators who flew off to create Shrek, Reign of Fire, and Monsters Inc. For me, however, it is a post-modern cradle of insomniatic piss-work. I'm taking an animation course that somehow I never seem to be on top of - like an 8 sided prostitute. That's an octstitute. The Memphis Ocstitute of Technology. Please forgive me, it's late and I am a fool with much to do and little ATP molecules with which to fuel the doing. The doing!

We had a fine show tonight at Kafe Kerouac. If you're interested in visiting our non-site then just click on www.johnnylongform.com and read about how no new web development has occured. It's like watching the paint grow.

Dah. No goodniks. I am a sleepless monstre. I loathe this foolish game. Mah! Mah! Moe!

feck feck feck feck feck feck feck feck feck feck feck feck ad infitue.

liberate me?

O what a rogue and peasant slave am I 

Damnit, Janet

Greetings net-heads,

I have been a reticent blogger of late due to an enormity of work, a dis-economy of energy, and a blatantly petulent demeanor in regard to one's professional duties. Needless to say, nothing of great import has happened since I last left you (all).

Oh yeah - I went to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show in one of those beer-selling theaters. It was a strange and subversive socio-natal cesspool. The likes of which I haven't seen/felt since I dated a monstrous counter-culture girl in 10th grade. Anyway, me and my theatre sissies went all dolled up like Manhattan whores.

I'm what you call a "virgin" to this cultish sect, and as such I had the opportunity to take part in their ritualistic hazing process. I reasoned, 'what the hell, I'll subject myself to ridicule, these are after all strangers.' The injustices to which I was subjected (intentionally omitted for the sake of my impressionable foster-children) didn't really embarrass me that much. I think that working in the theatre/improv comedy channels for long enough can really bolster one's humiliation threshold. Plus, hazing the "virgins" is all about directing attention towards them, and as every interstellar botanist knows, my roots grow strong when supplied with attention. I order the attention lover's pizza. I put the "fish" back in "selfish".

Eat my crud, crud-sucker.

M

It LIVES!!! 

Did I mention that I never change clothes?