| You look like shit. Is that the style now? |
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| 07:55pm 08/09/2003 |
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The hordes of the clueless march ever closer. Check it: Marilyn Manson was charged with battery and sued for 75 grand because an inept security guard named Diaz (while on duty at a concert of his) was shocked and humiliated when Manson, in true shock-rock fashion, grabbed the bastard's head and gyrated on it. (Hey, if you don't like the news, go out and make some.) For those of you shaking your heads, turn off the damned Shania Twain, and laugh at the situation with me for a second: The jury ruled in Manson's favor, anyway.
I'm not surprised, what the fuck did this guy expect? This isn't Barry-fucking-Manilow. Double-M's not gonna get up there on a baby grand and kick it off with Copa Cabana, for Christsake. This kick-ass freak is going to walk out on-stage in 4-inch platform shoes and without his fucking gender, cats and kittens. On the inner CD cover of 'AntiChrist SuperStar', his bandmates are depicted with their mouths fashioned to tubes linked directly to Marilyn's moneymaker. How's THAT for dinner theatre? That should have a been a neon-flavored sign to anybody, folks, and this guy worked the shift on-stage anyway. Who wants to wager Diaz doesn't speak a word of English and thought Marilyn Manson was one of the hot chicks on Telemundo?
You fucking DOLT. |
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| Jódalo |
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| 07:06pm 08/09/2003 |
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Sure, I could take the easy route. Yes, I could be happy in my little cube farm. Behind my cushy desk. Earning a fat check. Thankful for good weather, pretty flowers, and herbivores. But the truth is that I'm still fucking penciled in for a front seat on the expressway tram to Hell, and as such, I'm far too obsessed with picking on the poor, the societal miscreants, and other dysfunctional riff-raff on my way down. Hey, life is pain, rage is the reaction, rant is the release.
Getting to it: I live in the midwest, people. But we might as well rename it New fucking Mexico. I mean, does anyone speak fucking English in this country anymore? Have you had this experience yet, folks? You're at the supermarket, or the train stop, your local Best-fucking-Buy, and you're standing there minding your own business. And then, at first indistinctly, you pick up discussions between strangers and it's completely unintelligible because they're speaking fucking Spanish?
Spanish tabloids, Spanish television channels (locally), Spanish subtitles on everything from DVD's to airport signs, Spanish help-desks, etc. etc. The list goes on, man. Our African, Dutch, Welsh, Russian, and French ancestors crossed the sea, learned the language, and got with the fucking program.
Salsa is the top fucking condiment in America and moreover, check this shit out: now there are these people that are lobbying for a Spanish literature month...!? I'm at a loss for fucking words here, folks. For instance, I don't find anything profound about Spanish poetry; especially when almost every fucking word ends in 'a' or 'o'. That kind of rhyme scheme just doesn't impress fucking anybody. And now, pulling the last straw, our kindly low-wage lackeys leaping fences down south want us to change our ways and make the country culturally bilingual?
Let's see the colour of your fucking green card, Paco.
Yet, we the children's children of our ancestry many times over lay down our arms and make provision after provision. Jesus, we're not burning crosses in peoples' lawns, folks - we're asking them to learn our goddammed language. These people are responsible for the Macarena. Step up and swing before they make a 'McTaco', for Christsake. I'm BEGGING you. |
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| Rehab Is for Quitters |
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| 07:17pm 26/08/2003 |
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As far as I'm concerned, The RIAA can suck it, and before you ask, "Who lit the fuse on your tampon?", might I present the following for your brain to digest...
Get this: The Recording Industry Association of America (RIAA) has taken it upon itself to step up its crusade, and will begin filing lawsuits to alienate their most vulnerable fanbase, not to mention bankrupting themselves with lawsuits (this is assuming they win these suits, and those legal fees will certainly make those sued more willing to spend their extra skrilla on music CDs, right?).
YOU FUCKING DOLTS.
Apparently, in their great wisdom, the RIAA seems to think that a slowing economy has nothing to do with the 8% drop in sales of records and CDs, but those who share files on-line do, they are, accordingly, going to begin filing lawsuits against those who share music files (mp3s) on-line.
Of course, the drop in record sales has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that they are measuring that drop from the height of popularity of boy bands and the solo acts, with no corresponding rise in sales from any up-and-coming equally popular groups, right?
Therefore, equally of course, it also has nothing to do with the fact that most music CDs put out in the past two to three years have effectively been nothing to write home about, with maybe one or two good songs per album, the remainder barely qualifying as fluff, filler, or re-releases of Michael Jackson tunes, right?
And it couldn't have a thing to do with the uncertain economy we've had since arabs turned the World Trade Center campus into the set of House of 1000 Corpses, and the fact that people have more important things to spend their money on, such as food, shelter, and clothing, right?!
And perhaps, most contrasting of all, that Apple's music selling system has managed to sell five million songs (at just 99 cents each) in the past two months, proving that there is a market for on-line song sales?!?!
Look, assholes, I've had a bad enough fucking day, alright? Don't make me come down there. |
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| I thought I wanted a career, turns out I just wanted a paycheck. |
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| 09:28pm 25/08/2003 |
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I hate 2003. Gas prices are up, the US military adopted a Dirty Harry foreign policy with little, if any, appropriate explanation. The greatest video games EVER (e.g. Half-Life 2) are getting pushed back, cars STILL don't hover around like in Back to the Future II, and last but not least, approximately 50,000 people a state on average are still unemployed. "Thank you, Mr. Bush", indeed. For nearly three months out of this year, I counted myself among them. After months of arduous e-mailing, interviewing, and resume-filing, I get the hookup with my current employer... and what do I find?
My new comrades-in-arms have already begun to whine about how difficult the job is going to be, and how unhappy they are that they're not paid more, and how unhappy they are that they're not able to choose whatever they shift they desire regardless of seniority.
Let me bottom-line it for the slow and simple among you, folks: You are not smart and you are not special. No one gives a fuck that you have eight kids, two mortgages, and a failing fucking kidney. Cut off the plumbing, stop buying equity you can't afford, and stop fucking drinking. You are all numbers, expendible little human shields, cogs in a machine we define as society. So, get with the program, because the only way to succeed in the system is to play it. Get back in fucking line, or you're good for little more than target practice.
Which makes all of you extremely lucky that I don't have the patience, the contacts, or the financial backing to run for office. The second I got elected, all you whining motherfuckers would be taking one long nuclear dirt-nap........oh yeah, and I'd totally route some fundage into making hoverboards and video games that don't require the use of your hands. Word up.
Because Denis Leary said it best: Happiness comes in small doses. It's a cigarette, or a chocolate-chip cookie, or a five-second orgasm, and that's it. You climax, you eat the cookie, you smoke the butt, you go to sleep, you get up in the morning and go to fucking work. |
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| So you're a feminist...isn't that cute. |
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| 07:28pm 24/08/2003 |
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decibel
is emotionally distant. |
| I bet no one's surprised that you never post your current mood. In fact, I bet most of your friends are so sick of you locking them out of your life that they hate you behind your back. Shame. |
brought to you by  interim32. wanna know your livejournal's mood ring
color? enter your username and hit the button.
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Sticks and stones, mate. Life's a bitch, and then you marry one. |
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| Jesus died for my sins and all I got was this lousy t-shirt |
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| 06:55pm 24/08/2003 |
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Okay, who stopped the fucking payment on my reality check? Marshall, the red-headed man of mystery, is taking the bloody vows? I am, for lack of an appropriate expletive, astounded, ladies and gentlemen. Seriously, though, Marsh, my sincerest congratulations for what I'm sure will be a great wedding. Just be sure you pull in a decent band and stock the damn bar with the Amaretto Sours and Long Islands. |
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| Unnecessarily offensive content to follow |
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| 06:34pm 24/08/2003 |
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mood:  cynical
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Hi.
Now, don't get me wrong. I don't hate old people: I fucking loathe them. And being the well-rounded equal-opportunity supporter of genocide that I am, I lose all sanity and patience driving behind the elderly. Yes, that's right, beings simultaneously our elders and the 'wisdom' of our society, and yet the bane of my fucking existence on the old point A to point B. Note that I don't mind that you drive 10 miles below the posted speed limit and rubberneck at Bob's House of Vegetables on the way to your weekly bingo game, but kindly remove your stump from the brake pedal, you idiot. Automobiles (alternately referred to as horseless carrages) accelerate by means of the larger fucking pedal. Those white lights at the end of the tunnel are for your benefit, folks. Take the trip and let society get back to its thing.
That said, I'd like to welcome myself back to LiveJournal. An outlet for my cynicism and unbridled hostility towards both the animate and non. Those of you new with the program, will quickly realize that my medication ran out long ago. |
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| Swoop bikes, Cantinas, short guys and attitudes |
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| 07:57am 25/09/2002 |
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Man, there's no denying it now. I have a long lasting addiction to Jedi Knight II that reminds me of those BAGG gamers that still play fucking Counterstrike. JK is like a having a friend with benefits, I can still see other people, but we still have our fun on a regular basis. From new models like Emperor Palpatine to dueling levels including the Coruscant Underworld - I find myself logging into jk2files.com on a daily basis. Huffing paint is less addictive...I mean, probably... I heard. |
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| The Oracle says: Keith (I) Richards has a Marilu Henner number of 2. |
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| 03:19pm 17/09/2002 |
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First off, let me announce with no small amount of irritation that I'm officially back from my lj vacation. It took a couple hundred bucks and a linedance from another man, but livejournal.com/users/decibel again houses a small niche of insalubriousness. Up front, I can't promise posts on any kind of regularity, as time is ever against me in my quest for the larger paycheck at the end of the week.
That said, turning our eyes to the world of games, Unreal Tournament 2003 has turned demo (along with a larger scale and buggy version available on warez networks.) What little I've played of it so far is quite rewarding - hell, anything boasting support for anisotropic filtering and real-time dynamic lighting gets me excited in the pants - even if I don't know what the hell half of it means. It uses the same gaming engine that America's Army uses.
Speaking of which, AA has been receiving a lot of negativity from the political and non-gaming populace. (I'm resisting the strangest urge to call these hapless bastards "muggles") And, in my mind, If you're worried about America's Army hurling newbs into lives of military service, there are a couple points I'd like to make.
We've been pretending to be soldiers all our lives, in one way or another, in the woods with a paintball gun or at twelve eighty by ten twenty-four. Wanna stick it to the man? Download it, play it, and then don't join the military. It'll be like installing Linux on your Xbox, peeps. I'm talking about some hardcore shit. Play some Rage while you do it and have fun!
I mean, c'mon, if games are as efficient at "snaring the young" and "committing them to life choices" as some lay claim to fear, just think how much worse it could be. I mean, shit, nobody in the Army runs around with an Uzi, stealing cars and airplanes, shooting prostitutes in the face from the back of a speeding pickup. Count your Goddamn blessings. And thank your metaphorical lucky stars these pitiful creatures fell victim to an organization that will feed and clothe them, because a young adult who consults videogames as some kind of elaborate day-planner is in desperate need of guidance or, at the very least, a fucking job.
Lately though, the flames have died down on the subject - maybe because games like Halo 2 and UT2k3 have stolen the focus, which is fine by me, because I'd had enough political and theological discussions by the time I was eighteen to figure out that they are functionally inert. No one ever convinces anyone of anything, everybody just heaps their baggage on the table and gestures at it wildly. |
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| A great toy for ages 12 and up? |
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| 08:52am 04/09/2002 |
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Check this out - (be warned: the picture is large) - it's a screen capture of a product on amazon.com. Check out the reviews and see if you detect something fishy. Er, wrong. Or something. |
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| Gotta catch 'em all |
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| 08:04am 26/08/2002 |
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LiveJournal
Trading Cards
Free Account Edition
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decibel
User Number:
Date Created:1/2002
Number of Posts: 60+
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| .::decibel is the black sheep in any gathering. He'll comment on pretty much anything, and enjoys shredding societal moral fabric to pieces. |
| Strengths: Strong-willed, ill-informed, short-tempered, and oftentimes prone to violence. |
| Weaknesses: Frequently hungry, harbors a penchant for Hostess Pies. |
| Special Skills: Ability to live without water and sunlight for months at a time. |
| Weapons: Searing sarcasm, blinding truth, mutant healing factor. |
| Weapon(s) of Choice:: Favors attacking from a distance. Prefers anything from pipe-bombs to detonating stolen nuclear warheads. |
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Make your own LiveJournal Trading Card!
Brought to you by crossfire
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| GRIP: Get Right In and Pull |
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| 02:22pm 09/08/2002 |
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You there! What year is it?
Lemme tell ya; the only way to drink Corona is quickly, I didn't have much, but I sure as hell enjoyed it. To top off the afternoon excitement, I was drinking on company time, calling people "smurfs", all the while playing the role of a fucking parade float humming the goddamn tune. Rarely do I enjoy myself that much. Last time I had that much fun I was running around bare-assed in a mattress outlet with a kazoo, and hopped up on some jungle mushroom. But I digress...this is not the right time for me to start relating stories from my high school days... |
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| Get to de chopper! |
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| 11:32am 07/08/2002 |
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| You are 21% geek |  | OK, so maybe you ain't a geek. You do, at least, show a bit of interest in the world around you. Either that, or you have enough of a sense of humor to pick some of the sillier answers on the test. Regardless, you're probably a pretty nifty, well-rounded person who gets along fine with people and can chat with just about anyone without fear of looking stupid or foolish or overly concerned with minutia. God, I hate you. |
Take the Polygeek Quiz at Thudfactor.com
Any day Arnold Schwarzenegger appears on my quiz results is a good damned day. |
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| Japanimation: We didn't invent the acid trip, we made it stronger. |
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| 11:37pm 06/08/2002 |
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I have it on good authority that Japanese people sustain themselves on fish, little colored edible men, and bad acid trips. My brother, a key authority on all things emulatable, uses one such program called 'MAME'. Playing Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and Star Wars Arcade was interesting enough, but that, gentle readers, was just the beginning. He broke out the real crazy stuff. Stuff that never made it to the States. The majority of which isn't translated into English, for obvious reasons, nor would I imagine it could be. The picture below is just the tip of the iceberg.
Imagine a game (Dreaming Eyes) where you play as some impossibly cute little vermin-like thing running around a girl's dress, undoing her clothes as you go. Talk about a fucking motivator. If Pac-Man was like that, I would never have made it into middle school. Next, we tried our (free) hand at some street-fighting game (Psychic Fighter), if you could call it that. In this one, there's an extraordinarily flashy start-up cartoon with Paris, neon robots, naked lunar chicks, super-powered lollipop wielding babies, terrified citizenry, and Gundam battles. My head hurt trying to wrap around the context in the goddamned trailer for the game. Approaching insanity now, we played the real puzzler (title illegible). It's like the Dating Game meets Mario Party meets Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Heart's Club Band.
I shit you not. Wizards, too!
Since we assumed this meant getting into some cyber-anime-chick's panties (again) we lunged ourselves upon the field of virtual battle - to discover it's a board game...sort of. After counting fish, flying through rings, fighting frogs Tekken 4-style, taking lurid pictures of our date, answering dating quizzes in Japanese (insert Chris Farley skit here), and playing 10 second memory match with 24 cards, our sides hurt as well as our fingers and brains. You had to laugh - I mean, what the fuck is happening here: we're on a date, can't count all the goldfish within 10 seconds and get attacked by a fucking Wampa? That shit ain't right. If this is the way American red-blooded men had to score, there'd be a lot less abortion clinics with reciprocal incomes. Anyway, I'll get some pics of these other games up soon...now it's late and I need my bleeding Excedrin.. Out. |
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| "System Error 362 - Compilation Error. Take a Programming Class, Asshole." |
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| 02:21pm 29/07/2002 |
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Seedy. True story. I'm working diligently at my desk, posting to livejournal about the failings of lesser beings, when my boss informs me that I'll be working at the "other office" tomorrow and Wednesday. Me, I'm smiling like sunshine found a physical vessel to bind itself to, because I just barely got the porn pop-up cleared in time for her arrival. (For those of you who don't know, my employer has scattered its collective employees to the four winds, and often times, my help will be required off-location.) Great. This'll make achieving those deadlines much easier, because I can totally handle my assignments when I'm working at other places on other things. Idiots.
So, I'll probably get reamed over having nothing done at some meeting in the near future. At least my boss is planning on explaining matters to the Klingon High Counc...er, the powers that be.
Shit, did I almost say that? Somebody call Guiness, once home, I'm going to go from 0 to drunk in twenty dollars. |
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