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2003-08-12 - 10:56 p.m.

The Secret Word: Battery!!!

Listening To: Bowie, Grandaddy, The Jayhawks, Radiohead, Guster

Quote: "Sometimes . . . I don't know shit for shit." - Zach

Fear not my friends. All is not entirely lost. I still live. I still breathe. I still ooze if you prick me! I still ooze dirt!

Yeah. Quick short entry to let you all know that Stuff & Things hasn't gone the way of Thomas Dolby. And by that of course I mean to say that my Online Journal won't end up directing porn for a paycheck. Ok, ok. I can't make any promises. Oh. And don't be fooled by that "Quick short entry" bullshit. That only fools Fred.

So what's up? What's happenin'? Reno 911. That's what's happening. If you don't watch this show, you don't deserve to live. Though, just because you may watch it doesn't mean you deserve to live either. Either way. It's funny shit. Comedy Central. Wednesday nights at 10:30. Repeats late night Sat. and Sun.

So where have I been? Well, certainly not in the shower in Rollinsford, that's for sure. Why? Well because we still don't have one since we went to Boothbay back in June. So. You know. That sucks. Hard.

Things are only gonna get crazy from here on out for the rest of the entry. So let's get some lighthearted frivolity out of the way right off the bat:

Yeah. I think that'll do just fine.

Well, actually . . . it's gonna be a long ride - we better have some comfort food first.

There. That's just what the Kenichi Doctor ordered!

I've actually written several entries in the last month a half. "But WHA?!?!", you may say. And I wouldn't blame you for "But WHA?!?!"-ing me either. I don't see any entries since the interview with J-Dogg either. But write them I did. Several. But didn't post them.

Things have gotten a little wild around here. I'd say everyone save Peter and Coty know the score. I'll address it / inform them in a soon to be written entry. Don't worry. You'll know it when you see it. But not everything I wrote in those lost entries was pure rageaholic raisins. Let's cherry-pick through some of the torn remnants of the lost entires shall we? Here's some fun excerpts from the last month or so of non-Online Journalry:

--Slighty Crazed About Fiahworks--

Ha. Ha. Do you want to know how I spent my 4th of July? Well, I guess it was my 3rd of July. Rich and I went to Portsmouth. We met Jeff and Amy at the Gaslight. I know. Jeff and I at the Gaslight together and I didn’t even get kicked out! Amazing! Why do I feel like I’ve already written this entry before? Oh yeah. Because I have. Like 7 times. Ha. Ha. (Let’s play a game. Every time I type “Ha. Ha.”, instead of it meaning “Oh how simply hilarious!” we can make it our little secret that it means “Fuck me up the goat ass, I can’t believe how fucking gut-blazingly bullshit I am!” Remember, our little secret!)

--That's One Way Of Remembering It--

Anyway, where was I? I know that I didn’t start with a very standard opening paragraph. That’s for sure. I just kinda jumped in. And what way is that to start an entry? If we can’t trust the predictability of nonsense welcoming paragraphs than we can’t trust nothing no how. So yeah. 3rd of July. Rich had come down and I know there was some visit to the comic store and then we went to the mall and made Andrea laugh. And then we made it so she wasn’t laughing so much. I’m not sure if that was our intent or not. It all seems so long ago. So foggy. Lots of stamping and glaring. I’d like to say we’re all past that sort of business now. I’d like to. But I won’t. Because, I mean, ha ha, it’s always a super awesome banzai fun time when you’re partyin’ down in the Rollinsford Business District. Now see . . . hold on.

--Jenn+J Makes A Cameo--

So what? Where was I going with any of this? Oh yeah. Rich and I went to Portsmouth. I drove. Parking was a bitch. We didn’t get to see much of the fireworks, though the fireworks saw quite a bit of us as the ash and fireworky soot rained down upon us in that backyard garden of decadence known as the Gaslight. Oh did I mention that ALSO like last summer’s run in at the Gaslight that I hung out with Amelia? I didn’t mention that? Ok. This is where I mention that we saw Amelia. She had called me a few nights before to tell me she was in town. She was staying in Gilmanton and was back from the cruise and getting ready to move to NYC. Her and her boyfriend Shane came down that night and they were even escorted by Jenn + J! Can you believe it?! You should. Because it’s true.

--Common Space Goats!--

Ha. Ha. Isn’t it funny? I know the majority of people who read this little online journal. Or “diary” as TC says it in an effort just to get my goat. (Consider this goat gotten TC!) I know most of you and I know you are all waiting for me to say what you already know. And to think I’ve had weeks to decide on the phrasing. And I still, after all this time, as I sit here in my sweltering bedroom, I still am at a loss for how exactly to put letters and words together to say what I want to say. (And of course, by “bedroom” I mean “common space”. Ha. Ha.)

--Sanity Starts To Crack--

Things weren’t going exactly swimmingly back at the beginning of the month anyway. Ben had accidentally busted the boiler, and with it went the hot water. But most of you know about that already. No showers for Zach. I know what you’re thinking Coty – what’s the big deal? Well, thank God for Phil and Andrea. York may not be the closest place to take a shower and/or sleep – but I don’t know what I would have done in the last month if it wasn’t for them. Hell, if I didn’t have my license right now I would have already tied cement bricks to my eyes and thrown myself in the river out back. Ha. Ha. Me and my suicidal imagery. What I won’t envision as a way to avoid mind fucking anger! Ha. Ha. Ha! (Ooh, a TRIPLE DIPPLE “Ha”! That must be important!)

--A Story For Coty And A Promise To Fill Him In That Has Yet To Be Realized--

Besides, who other than maybe Rachel doesn’t already know? Oh wait. I talked to Rachel earlier today. I forgot. So scratch that. Um . . . I suppose Coty doesn’t know. But that’s just because I haven’t talked to him in a while. Now that he has like 7 jobs, he’s a busy man. But hi buddy! I see you there! Reading my journal! Awww, you’re so precious! Buddy, I totally forgot to mention this hilarious thing that happened in Boothbay. I brought my camera into that Fisherman’s Wharf place, because I wanted to get a picture of that infamous sign that we both loved with the “Don’t look up! Look down! The future of our country is in your hands!” freak ass inscription on it. So I walk down that long hallway towards the restaurant we ate in and went to walk into the bathroom to take the picture and this old guy comes shuffling out of the men’s room and yells at me, “Did you do this?! Did you do this?!” I have no fucking clue what he was talking about until I look behind him and I see water just GUSHING out of the bathroom. His feet and pant legs are soaked and I can hear water sloshing around behind the bathroom door. I tell him I just got there and ask him if it’s the toilet or the sink, and he just answers, “It’s EVERYWHERE! You need to go get help!” And I’m thinking, fuck me. This shit only happens to me. And the other guys were waiting for me at the dock. So I go to the front desk and say “Um . . . something in the bathroom . . . ah, exploded I think. And you . . . you should go check it out.” So this big fat guy follows me to the bathroom and the old guy, who is tracking his wet feet all over the carpet in the hall, whilst the water from the bathroom starts creating a bigger and bigger puddle and crosses over to the women’s room, the old guy says to the fat manager guy, “Don’t worry. This young boy with the camera didn’t do it! He told me as much!” The fat guy asked me if I knew who did it and I told him I didn’t. And then I couldn’t take it anymore and knew they were waiting on me outside so I left. The old guy yells out to me, “Good Luck!” Um . . . ok. I have no idea why HE was wishing ME ‘good luck’. But whatever, I’ll take it. So yeah – I tried to get a funny picture for you and instead was involved in The Poseidon Adventure 2003. So yeah, anyway Coty, to recap, I need to fill you in on some shit. I will call soon.

--Missing The Buddies And Squeezing Out The Last Bit Of Compassion From Zach On The Rollinsford Tip For A Long While--

Awww, I wish Coty was around. He could come to the big “Concrete Pouring Party BBBQ” this weekend. But he’s not. So he can’t. I’d even let him eat all the whoopee pies if he wanted to! Not that he’d wait for my say so anyhow. Frederick can’t make it either. Sad. But there’s lots of people coming. It should be fun. Especially since I don’t have to be here for the actual pouring of the concrete. Brad came down last weekend and Ben put he and I to work in the basement. Concretein’ and shovelin’ and what not. I had been the wheelbarrow man earlier in the week, whose job it was to take the sand Ben shoveled out of the basement and bring it to the woods. Fun huh? Ha. Ha. Was it ever!

Yeah, but I feel/felt bad for Ben because I know he’s super stressing out about the house and he really wants everything done in time for Saturday. Well, at least what needs to get done before the concrete gets poured. I’ve easily said “concrete” more times in the last month than any other month in my life. No contest. The word “shower” too.

--Scabs Being Picked At And Airzookin' Alyson!--

I hated that 4th of July time period so much that my visit to Laconia was quite refreshing. Anything was better than being in Rollinsford/Dover/Portsmouth at that point. Or the fucking mall. Oh how I loathe the FRM. Now more than ever. And there were some shifts around that time that were super duper banzai fun too. Ha. Ha. Yeah. Cause I LOVE getting in fights with people while I’m at work. Just like with Maura, it’s really super awesome. I mentioned Maura already right? And her kooky bit about “loyalty” and “honesty”. Granted, it’s brutal honesty. And me, well I don’t take much stock in hardly any type of honesty. Not a big fan of the ol’ responsibility either. But sometimes I have to use them whether I want to or not. It’s what differentiates “regular ol’ run-of-the-mill friends” from “good friends”. Separates the Fried Dough from the Funnel Cakes. There. That makes sense. I know! A picture of AlYson harnessing the immense power of the Airzooka! Hooray! That’ll lift everyone’s spirits after such a searing paragraph of bad feelings and band-aids that have been ripped off before the scab could heal!

Oh man! That AlYson! What a card! That pic was taken back in the days when printed shirts were still allowed at the Wallakers. Those were free and easy days. Days when I didn’t break fax machines (If indeed it can even be proven in a court of law that a fax machine was ever broken by ZQF in the first place – besides, I already know how the kangaroo court at the Wallakers works, and it ain’t no place where I can plead the 5th.)

[Side Note: I'd like to laugh at how much I valued honesty back then. "Back then" as if it was years ago and not mere weeks ago. Yeah. Honesty then and honesty now are two entirely different beasts. But then again . . . sometimes we invest wisely and sometimes we're just a clueless fucking moron for all the world to laugh at. Just saying is all.]

--Zach Brings Old Axes Back In The Light To Grind--

Yes. So work’s been a barrel of monkeys lately. Moreso. And not just because of the sheriff’s usually hi-jinx. And oh how he’s been full of hi-jinx. “More Websites to Check Out” indeed! Yeah. Work sucks.

“I’m not so sure I agree with how you’ve been handling yourself in the work environment lately.” - My Dad.

Oh that Dad. He’s so wise. Like the owl. Not the potato chips. Oh . . .well, I guess they’re one in the same aren’t they?

Man. It’s late. It’s 2 in the morning right now. And boy is it hot out. Can’t shower though. Nope. BBBQ is coming up though. So that’s always nice. I guess a lot of the malarkey that’s been skulking about these last few weeks boils down to the maxim of, “Nobody ever listens to Zach because they’d rather think he’s just crazy and do whatever they fucking want because what does stupid Zach know?” Right. I was right that Annie and Beth shouldn’t have gone to Dukin’ Donuts that night and I stand by all my feelings and decisions this time too. The ghosts of Marshall and Fred float around a lot of this – not that Fred is dead – well, I don’t think that Marshall is dead either, but who really knows – he’s out in California and that might as well be Venus. Well, Fred isn’t really a good example, other than for the short term, beginning aspects of it – and Marshall isn’t really a good example other than some of the “dynamic” aspects of it all. Oh – and you know what people? I don’t care if you’re not following – this is my online journal. And if you find a joke funny or you smirk at a picture – dandy! But I think I forgot sometime back that this is MY place to say what I WANT. So yeah.

--Come On Zach, Tell Us What You Really Think--

But I know! Let’s spring things on Zach! Let’s be secret squirrels! Yeah! Because Zach has a super awesome history with things being awkwardly sprung on him! Ask Fred, or my mom, or my dad, or Brooke – it always works out well. Except it doesn’t. At all. But sure - this is different. No, really, it is. This is different because I was stupid enough to believe it was different in the first place. So really, a lot of the blame lies at my feet. It lies with me for not being a better judge. And to think – some think me too harsh a judge.

“Everyone has their roles to play.” – My Mom

Yup. I guess they do. And some will play them forever. But the Loch Ness Monster told me that roles can be comfortable but we shouldn’t let them trap us. I’m not gonna let my role trap me anymore. Sure, I’ll invite you all to the BBBQ (and if you’re reading this and want to come! Come on over! Unless your name is Tracey Lundgren – then definitely don’t come – because you fuck goats and we hate you) I wish Peter and Rick and Monique and TC could come to the BBBQ. TC has been a textbook “good friend” these past few weeks. He knows why. I need not say it. Yeah – I’ll still invite people places. And I’ll write in here and elsewhere. And I’ll still joke with you all. But being walked all over and being a friend are two different things.

--What Does Paul Have To Say About All This?--

Hbfkjgfkjsgksjdgbskugbgfdsfgfdghdfhgfhjhgskulvbdskjfvbgkjfgbkjsfbgkjdf!!!!

That’s really how I feel here at 2:30 in the morning. I have to work at 9:30. I have to get up at 7:30 though, as I need enough time to drive to York, Maine and shower and then go to work. Fun. Ha. Ha. Very fun.

“Sonny sits by the window and thinks to himself / How it’s strange that some roots are like cages.

Sonny’s yearbook from high school is down on the shelf / And he idly thumbs through the pages” - Paul Simon

I was going through my high school yearbook the other day and a horrible thought occurred to me. The people in that book. They fell into three camps. People that I was slight acquaintances with that I have seen rarely or not at all since high school. People that I was good friends with that I am still friendly with today. People that I was good friends with that I had falling outs with and no longer can even speak to them. How sad. How sad for both of us. Whoever that other person is. Was I that horrible of a monster? Am I still? It’s like “falling out with former friends” is some sort of fun hobby of mine. I guess I still need to add more grays to my palette, as it’s still mostly black and white with only slight shades of blue and green. I guess sometimes I’m too strict with my “you fuck me over once” and that’s it rule. Then why is it I’ll cut some people out of my life after one fight or one misunderstanding, but others, others can fuck me over again and again and I just keep on keepin’ on? That’s funny how I just used “keep on keepin’ on” when I was trying to be serious.

-------------------------------------------------------

Oh friends. Wow. That's a lot of shit. And to imagine what I thought was too harsh to see! Oh me and my harshness. I think that's enough of fucking all the Unicorns though. Don't you? I mean, look how innocent they are!

But I have a Radiohead concert tomorrow after work with Andrea, Phil, Hannah, Bryan & Natalie - so I ought to hit the not-so-proverbial hay.

But what of the Concrete-Pouring BBBQ? And KP's Wedding? And the trip to Boston last weekend to see the Red Sox where my secret crush on Johnny Damon became apparent and everything got dashed by the wicked glare of Galaga '88?! You'll all find out sooner than you think. Sooner than you think.

I don't know. Like Thursday or something. Sound good? Good.

And let us not forget to check out the Totally Randomizer below this and every entry from now on! Click it and it will take you on a magical journey throughout the history of Stuff & Things!

"Baby, I gonna make you forget allll about Daubach and Hillenbrand. Yeah. That's right. Johnny's here now. Everything's alright now. Now where's that tiger suit?"

It's been real,

Iago

ps -

"If that's all you will be, you'll be a waste of time. / You've dreamed a 1,000 dreams, none seem to stick in your mind. / Two points for honesty. It must make you sad to know that nobody cares at all." - Guster

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