Comic Books, Drag Race, & Life in New Zealand
by krisis
I’m steaming the wrinkles out of the shirt and tie i intend to wear tomorrow, and every time i walk into the bathoom to check on them my lungs are heavy with air and my hair magically lifts itself into frizzy little curls. I wish i could have a room full of static electricity too … or maybe i could just use the dryer from time to time and wind up with the static and the crisp clothes. There’s a thought…
by krisis
lalala. I’m debating the merits and demerits of drunken flings with one of my friends via instant messaging services, which is [of course] what the internet was intended for from the start. He seems to view a inebriated hookup almost as a right of passage as long as it isn’t too embarrassing, whereas i find it rather reprehensible; if you want to kiss someone, you should have enough respect for them to kiss them sober. Drunk kisses tend to mean all the wrong things, and what they don’t mean is that you’re willing to put any real effort into getting someone interested in you. Also, assuming we’re referring to something akin to a one-night-stand, they mean you’re forever left wondering if it anything that ocurred meant something to the other person, or if it was really just the liquor talking. Articulate reader commentary on this will be posted at a later date, so please chime in with opinions, experiences, ect (this is honestly a test-run to see if i want blog-voices, so open up your damned mouths for once to email me and then it’ll be easier for all of us).
by krisis
Aside from being half of a substitute for our dearly departed PowerBloggers, Splith also features internet original songwriting, done DIY! I knew there was some more of us out there somewhere…
by krisis
SavvyMel: I’m very unproud to say that in my 15 and nearly a quarter years of my pathetic life here on earth…I’ve done jack shit…
krisis: Ha!
krisis: Well, i’ve got four years on you, and i’ve just been fucking around on my guitar.
SavvyMel: Yeah, but, you’re actually recording and doing stuff and going somewhere, I think that’s like… fucking around on the guitar squared.
Yes, folks, this is Fucking Around Squared. Like on that theme-park commercial (don’t even get me started on when they say “3-D Squared” … idiots).
by krisis
I’ve been spending way too much time on other people’s couches lately. Something about sitting on a couch past 3am somewhere other than my own apartment creates this field of ultra-gravity that’s inescapable. I’ve couched it twice in four nights, and on the alternate night i wound up sitting on one for at least three hours quietly reading a magazine before i finally got up to leave. Last night my couching was justified, though, seeing as it was nearly 3am and i was standing in the middle of West Philly with a guitar strapped to my back. I swear… the muggers were circling me like vultures at one point. I’m usually pretty brazen about walking the streets at night, but sometimes you’ve just got to turn tail and flee to the nearest couch. Mmm… couch.