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You're looking at the latest 20 entries. (*prev_20_entries);

Friday, November 20th, 2009

Subject:Tell Them
Time:Friday, November 20th @ 7:01
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/

Tonight I am going to do something that I very rarely do. I am going to do something that I have not done in a very long time. Tonight I will put to words, or at least I will try to put into words, what I truly feel. It is the very late night and very early morning of Friday, November 20, 2009. I have spent the past few weeks not knowing what the immediate future holds. While in the past I have been able to predict, with decent reliability, the stability of my family, the recent past has been blurred by unfortunate events of great pain -- both to me and my two remaining grandparents.

My life became very complex beginning in mid October when, in the dead of night, my grandmother fell while returning to her bed. My brother and I rushed to her aid and called an ambulance. She was taken to the hospital in agony. Her diagnosis was a pelvic fracture, and her prognosis was good. After a couple of days, she was released to the care of a rehabilitation facility that would assist her while she recovered. She was able to return home after two weeks. A few days went by, and her condition degraded from that of promising recovery to unbearable pain. Again, my brother and I made a call for an ambulance to retrieve her. With a terribly fast heart beat and the beginnings of chest pains, she was taken once again to the same hospital as before. Nearly a week and a lot of pain medicine later, she was released once again to return home under my care (primarily). Since then, she has gained strength as well as a night aid -- a woman who was hired to assist her when all others were sleeping. This person has recently observed the beginnings of a rash that has since been assumed to be Shingles. She was given medicines to fight off this new development as well as some to combat existing pain. So far, she is fighting to regain normalcy with slow and steady success.

I wish I could say that this is the only brush with tragedy that I have experienced lately. My grandfather experienced an episode in which he was rendered cognitively unaware and very much confused of his surroundings as well as what was happening. My brother received a call from his wife (not my biological grandmother but still "Grandma" nonetheless) stating that he was in trouble and she needed our help. The idea was that he simply couldn't seem to get out of bed and get dressed. As we arrived, the situation presented itself to be far more severe than simple weakness. After quickly assessing the potential for stroke and thusly brain damage, I made the decision to call emergency services. I remained calm and informative and a crew of paramedics arrived within minutes, and he was taken to the nearest hospital. What we later learned was that his condition was not the result of a stroke. Instead, a low level of oxygen-carrying red cells in his blood -- referred to in medical terminology as Anemia -- was compounded by general cognitive degeneration due to age.

Both of my grandparents are currently home and recovering from their illnesses. I hope this continues. It is my intent by writing this not to garner too much attention. Much less is my intent to garner sympathy or even your prayers. Your kind thoughts are welcome, but what I really hope to do by writing this is to cultivate whatever love and respect you have for your elders and to bring you to express this to them in whatever way you can. May you cherish whatever time you have left because, as I have been made aware recently, things can change rapidly and without warning. Thankfully, I have not lost those I care about, but they are forever changed. They who I remember as being brilliant, witty, and sharp are no longer as much so as they used to be. Such is life.

One day, it will end -- yours, mine, and everyone we know. Some will pass quietly as an elder in bed, and some will perish young with plenty of potential left. Whatever the case, I want you all to know that you are loved. We don't take the time to tell our friends, family, and various other loved ones, what they mean to us. Perhaps this is simply because it is assumed. Perhaps we believe that we will look weak or too sensitive. Whatever the reason, we fail. We fail to make every moment count. We fail because we expect to be around. We fail because we expect them to be around. We fail because we are human. But that is okay. Because the love is still there.

I love you all. Please remember that.
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Saturday, September 5th, 2009

Subject:Excellence
Time:Saturday, September 5th @ 3:57
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/


Excellence
September 5, 2009
Of the lovely women out there,
You I won't forget.
A smart little girl with long brown hair,
Is who my mind has kept.

A sweet young child with beautiful smile,
That I haven't seen in the longest while.
As memory serves, a young math-ophile,
Whose personal style is a bit hostile,
The result of which is all worthwhile.
And though she might think me so vile,
My sullen fancy did beguile.

I still know now what I did knew then,
That I can't forget.
My admiration for such gorgeous women,
And those I do respect.
Has led me to writing in rhyme again,
For friendship I cannot expect.
 

The poetry posted in this entry is ©2009 Steven Glazer. Use for commercial purposes without written permission is strictly prohibited.
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Wednesday, August 5th, 2009

Subject:Stand-Up 2
Time:Wednesday, August 5th @ 5:08
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/

Update: Performed most of this routine August 5, 2009. You would think that being a technically-adept computer nerd, I would be able to start my camera recording... not so much. I have video, but it starts a couple minutes in, I did not deliver the routine as flawlessly as I had hoped, and the audio quality is terrible. I could post it to YouTube, but it's really bad, so only by special request will I allow the video to eat 600MB of bandwidth pushing this thing online.

How are you guys doing tonight?

How are you ladies doing tonight? Are any of you ladies single? Any of you ladies single with a grizzly bear fetish? I can help you act out your camping fantasy. All I ask for in return is your picnic basket. My back is a shag carpet of manliness. I have one of those sticky rollers to give to people after they hug me. Being hairy sucks in heat like this, but it has benefits. At least when someone makes fun of my weight, I can say, "I'm not fat, I'm fluffy!" and actually mean it. I also make money on the side as a model. Apparently, when I don't shave, I'm a dead ringer for Bigfoot.

I have no idea why I'm up here. I always hated talking to crowds. They say it helps to picture the audience in their underwear. This really depends on the audience. If I'm standing in front of a crowd of hot women, I'm going to need a podium to hide a package. But I'm talking to a bar, and that's completely different. You, sir, don't ever wear a thong. (This last section did not go as well as I thought it might. People seemed to like the first section, though.)

I used to take stuff apart as a kid. Anyone else do that? Sometimes I'd even put it back together again. I'm always curious to know how something works, and sometimes when I'm done, it still does. Years ago, my dad had a cellular phone. Now he has a Motorola paper weight. He's still got it, and I don't know why. It's not like it was the most thoughtful Father's day gift ever. "Here, Dad! I got you a brick!" It beat getting a card. What man has ever wanted a card? I got a card in the mail one time, and I thought to myself, "next time, could you just send me the four bucks instead?" I wish I could still get away with making cards for various occasions. Not only would it be cheaper, but I could gradually get rid of all the glue, glitter, and macaroni I've stockpiled over the years. Actually, that's a lie. Do I look like a guy who would let perfectly good pasta go to waste? (I completely butchered the delivery of this bit. Kinda forgot where I was because I was paying more attention to the audience than to my material.)

People always tell me "it's the thought that counts." Bullshit. When was the last time you heard someone say "thank you" when you told them you thought about getting them a present? (This didn't make it.)

I have always been inventive. I built my first laptop from scratch. It was very stable -- never once crashed on me. It was made of two pieces of plywood and a door hinge. I drew in the screen and keyboard with marker. It had its drawbacks, though. That thing was so SLOW! I could only get Wi-Fi at a lumber yard. And it nearly caught fire when I tried to plug it in. Actually, that's a lie, too. You can't force a sheet of plywood into an electrical socket. That's what thin metal wire is for.

You see, many years ago in my naive tinkering days, I built a lamp and used the thinnest wire possible, jamming the ends into a 110-volt outlet. I didn't know about Ohm's Law which basically says that with lots of voltage and not enough resistance, you get a lot of current. Lots of current manifests as heat. Lots of heat manifests as FIRE! For those of you keeping score, it's fire: 1, Grandma's living room rug: 0. While I was busy running around screaming, this mad scientist's reign of terror was being ended by a woman in her seventies armed with nothing but quick thinking and a throw pillow. (Drop the bit about Ohm's law or at least shorten it, drop the "keeping score" bit, and shorten this story.)

(The following two bits didn't make it because of time.)

I love my bicycle, but I need to become less stupid. I nearly got hit by a Corvette the other day. Now, I've actually been tagged by a Volvo before, and quite frankly, getting pancaked by a Corvette seems like a far classier method of becoming a road stain. For example: If I tell a friend, "I got hit by a Volvo," I get the usual response: "That's nice." If I tell the same friend, "I got hit by a Corvette," the response is remarkably different: "Really? What color?" "Red. Dripping red. With a touch of pancreas."

I am all for gay marriage. This is despite my initial position on marriage itself which is a topic for a less humorous discussion. I believe that everyone, regardless of gender preference, should have the right to experience the same level of hell that law permits straight couples. And if anyone out there really still believes that being gay is wrong and that those who are should be punished, I propose a solution: Give gay people marriage. Just don't give them divorce.


I once had someone proposition me over the Internet. She asked if I would pound her vag. I told her, "Sure! Let me just get my sledgehammer." I will crush that pussy into gravel.

A friend was throwing a party, and I tried to surprise him with one of those giant cakes that had a stripper inside. Nobody told me you were supposed to take the stripper out before baking it. It was still delicious. Though there was something about it that tasted a little fishy. I think it might have been crabs. (Lose the last bit.)


(Closed out normally.)




Alright! I managed to cover ladies, shag carpets, stage fright, geekiness, fires, bicycling, divorce, vagina destruction, strippers, and baby cannibalism. Hopefully, I can remember all of this.



In retrospect, I really only covered ladies, shag carpets, stage fright, fires, vagina destruction, and strippers. And I didn't remember all of it, so delivery was not so fluid. All in all, not a bad set. Could have been better, though.
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Tuesday, June 30th, 2009

Subject:Stand-Up Routine
Time:Tuesday, June 30th @ 3:26
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/

I've never done this before, so bear with me.

How's everyone doing tonight?

Any hot girls in the audience? Single hot girls keep clapping. Single hot girls with a grizzly bear fetish, keep clapping. I'll see you after the show.

I am a hairy bastard. I didn't realize how bad it was until I started letting it get long. In a few weeks, I'll be able to tie it back. I'll be one freaky-looking fucker with a pony tail in the middle of my back. Eventually, though, I'll have to get it cut. I don't think I could take the awkward silence after, "hey, Wolfie where'd you get the tail?"

At least I'm not socially awkward. You know the geeky type -- the brains with glasses who can recite pi to 10 or more digits. Staying up until the wee hours of the morning, illuminated by nothing but a laptop screen. Unable to sleep because they have this really great idea for a comedy routine making fun of geeks. I wouldn't want to be thrown in the same pit as those lame bastards. By the way, I'm a Computer Science major.

I always knew I'd be a geek, though. I used to take shit apart as a kid. Anyone else do that? Sometimes I'd even put it back together again. And sometimes it would even work after that. Years ago, my dad had a cell phone. Now he has a paper weight. I don't know why he kept it. It was not the most thoughtful Father's day gift. "Here, Dad! I broke your phone!" But it beat a card. What man has ever wanted a card? "Thanks, son. Next year, could you just give me the four bucks instead?"

I set fire to my grandmother's rug one time. I had built a lamp with the thinnest wire possible. I didn't know shit about voltage and resistance and current -- specifically how too much of it can melt plastic and start burning carpet. But while my brother and I were running around the house screaming, this mad scientist's reign of terror was being ended by a woman in her seventies armed with nothing but quick thinking and a throw pillow.

She's 91 now. You're clapping for her. Thank you.
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Friday, May 29th, 2009

Subject:It's All About the Washingtons
Time:Friday, May 29th @ 15:55
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/


It's All About the Washingtons
May 29, 2009
Now... what you wanna do?
Wanna be a reader? floor sweeper?
Teacher -- who be snappin' shots with the camera.
On the ground lookin' out at the sand lot.
Tryin' to get my rhymes to your inbox.
Living at the PC, writin' code to the AM 3.
Spaghetti, fettucini, and garlic,
Growin' bulbs in the pots,
Gotta spice up the sauce 'cause my crew likes it plenty hot.
So don't knock me for growin' my own shit,
Seven different types in the south grow pit.
Ain't nobody's hero, just a chill geek nerd,
On your hot summer day, that's my word
Spinnin' and winnin' on fat tire spokes,
Buy a new rim 'cause that Volvo got me way too close.
Its all about the Washingtons, what?
I get a thirty pound bag of computer shit
Gloves on my hands to make the ride feel quick.
And fly down Burnside on a pair of rims,
Fuck the Sims,
It's Comp Sci for LIFE!
 

The poems posted in this entry are ©2009 Steven Glazer. Use for commercial purposes without written permission is strictly prohibited.
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Wednesday, May 27th, 2009

Subject:It's Been a While
Time:Wednesday, May 27th @ 17:48
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/

In my compilers class, we are discussing optimization. Floating point numbers don't behave like other normal numbers. Our example of how you can't necessarily optimize floating point operations was to add a big number to a small number, subtract the big number, and compare what you expect to what actually occurs.

"So we add the very small number to a big number, say the national debt."

To which a student replies, "the national debt isn't that big."

And I had to post this because saying $13 trillion isn't a big number is quite possibly the most retarded thing I've ever heard.
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Sunday, September 28th, 2008

Subject:People
Time:Sunday, September 28th @ 4:17
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/


People
September 28, 2008
Those you like,
And those you love,
Ones you simply can't stop thinking of.

The people you meet,
Won't be here for long,
No regrets for things done wrong.

People come, and people go,
Right with the rhythm,
    We let the time flow.
Not given a choice,
To live in the past,
    For the memory is all we know.

The moments move by,
Some slow, some fly.
Hate to admit that you too will die.

It's a constant fight,
And such is life.
Death sneaks up behind, carries a knife.
 

The poems posted in this entry are ©2008 Steven Glazer. Use for commercial purposes without written permission is strictly prohibited.

Inspiration )
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Tuesday, August 26th, 2008

Time:Tuesday, August 26th @ 23:55
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/



August 26, 2008
You wonder where,
The good guys went,
Every man out there,
It's you they resent.

You couldn't stand,
The boys who respected,
And treated you well,
Stood up and protected.

And you refused to date,
Or even acknowledge,
The ones who loved you,
And helped you in college.

For the bad boy is bad,
And that's what you wanted,
A rebel, no cause,
With attitude flaunted.

You have beaten and broken,
All of us down,
To look up at your sickness,
And follow around.
The very things,
That we grew up to hate,
Were forced upon us.
Don't want to relate.
Gentle we were,
But we become irate,
Assholes we are, for
We must procreate.
 

The poems posted in this entry are ©2008 Steven Glazer. Use for commercial purposes without written permission is strictly prohibited.
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Saturday, June 28th, 2008

Time:Saturday, June 28th @ 20:38
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/


Untitled Industrial Song #1 in C Minor
June 28, 2008
I like your taste in music.
I like your taste in smells.
You like the sound of one hundred decible.
Drum beat, guitar, blood yell.

Your hair angles forward,
On the virge of attack,
Currently a shade of brown,
Soon enough will be black.

Are you going to miss me
When you leave this place?
Will you forget balloon assassination,
The look on his face.
Humiliation drenched,
Soaked in disgrace.
 

Creative Commons License
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Monday, June 23rd, 2008

Subject:Sup, Carlos?
Time:Monday, June 23rd @ 0:55
Music:I have Voltaire on the brain..
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/

Chuck Norris won a staring contest against himself.

In 1982, Chuck Norris crashed a plane into a mountain (because he felt like it), and came across a village of nuns. In 1983, the entire lineup for the 2008 New England Patriots team was born. The only reason they failed to have a perfect season was due to the fact that Chuck Norris was the other team.
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Saturday, May 10th, 2008

Subject:Perfectly Broken
Time:Saturday, May 10th @ 8:55
Mood: thankful.
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/


Perfectly Broken
May 10, 2008
A beautiful girl with a beautiful smile
Grabs my mind and won't let go for a while
A couple of dates, and I try to be nice,
Presentable, sweet, not just one of the guys.
Cute and kind, but there's something else.
She grew up with bruises, scars, and welts.
Now broke free she got away from her past,
But with damage done, a dark mental forecast.
Powders and pills and crystalline thrills
To escape the moment, for the pain it kills.
Fire and smoke, melted dreams and hope;
All black with some white, unable to cope.
Lay down to sleep with bottle in hand,
Try to wake up in the great white land.
Fade in and out, not according to plan,
Somebody's here, clasped holding her hand.
Voice dried and gone, she reaches for song.
Speaks in a whisper, but it will be strong.
Days, weeks, months, the addictions remain,
Substances used to feel numb from the pain.
Actions from choices, and those are made,
The only constant is a woman betrayed.
Not by the friend trying to save a life,
But by the liquid inferno burning inside.
One thing yet to see is where it will end,
A hard choice to make, or a flatline in bed.
By choice or by force, with will or with life,
The hardest part is the eternal fight.
She is loved by those around her who care,
And who see in her a great life to share.
She hates me still, and I understand how.
It's okay. I'm done. You can hang up on me now.
 

Creative Commons License
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Tuesday, February 19th, 2008

Time:Tuesday, February 19th @ 18:06
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/

It's been a long time, and a lot has changed.

I'm living in N.W. Portland with my grandmother who just celebrated her 90th birthday. The party was Sunday despite the fact that her actual birthday is tomorrow. You can find pictures here.

I'm getting fucking tired of living here. I feel obligated to stay because my brother is a selfish douche and does very little to help, and my grandma can't do much in the way of cook and clean. I'm a decent cook, and I do the dishes by hand because the dishwasher is a piece of shit. When I decide to spend time anywhere but at home (with the exception for going to class and playing dodgeball twice a week), I receive an earful of controlling bullshit that goes something like this: "If you are going to be out all day and all night, you might as well not be living here." Of course, within an hour of saying this, my grandma doesn't remember or doesn't care anymore; nevertheless, I want to move out to spite her. I pay nothing in rent, yet sometimes I want to throw that away to get the fuck out. I feel trapped.

I love my grandma because of what she represents to me, but the very things she says and does seem to indicate that I am an expendable resource in this home. I'm tired of hearing the same bullshit over and over again.

P.K.: If you ever read this, "because I'm frickin' starving" is not a valid reason for me to start cooking dinner any sooner. Who am I kidding. He'll never read this because he doesn't care.

I hate to mix the good in with the bad, but I don't really want to separate this into two updates, so ON A COMPLETELY DIFFERENT NOTE...

I have a girlfriend.
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Monday, July 16th, 2007

Time:Monday, July 16th @ 8:15
Mood: tired.
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/


I Had a Dream
July 16, 2007
It used to be that you and me,
Without money could simply just be,
Run in fields or climb a tree,
Rolling in grass, screaming with glee.

Used to be you would take a chance,
Death would ask if you would dance.
Holding out his bony hands,
Eery sweet and dark romance.

Fear not, young man, I have a plan.
Close your eyes and take my hand.
Please don't lie if need to cry.
Even if you die, it's worth the try.

Even if you know this life's a show,
The seeds you sow begin to grow.
Don't hate or kill and you will go,
Where your halo shines an afterglow.
 

The poems posted in this entry are ©2007 Steven Glazer. Use for commercial purposes without written permission is strictly prohibited.
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Wednesday, February 21st, 2007

Subject:I Just Don't Know
Time:Wednesday, February 21st @ 11:02
Mood: lonely.
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/

I know it's been a long time since I last updated this journal.

I'm slowly going insane, and I really need a place to bitch.

I'm taking 12 credits at Portland State and 32+ hours at work in Wilsonville. The drive is a pain in my ass, it eats up gas, and it causes wear and tear on my car. I've recently bought three new shirts for work and ruined two of them. I can't seem to force myself to pay attention in one of my classes for more than 3 minutes before I space-out and do something else on my laptop which, by the way, is also slowly wearing out.

The shirts are my fault. They had gum in the pocket, but that doesn't make it any less aggravating when shit goes wrong.

My job hasn't given me a raise since I started, I do more than my fair share of work (I'm the fastest one there, I know the space very well, and I am driven to do my job), and yet I'm still being paid $8.00 per hour when I should be doing something more productive, closer to home, and getting paid far more for my time.

In addition to not paying much attention to class, I'm getting loaded with school work, but since I work every day that I don't have class, I have little time to complete assigned work, yet I still find time to play an hour or two of computer games every few days.

Tweak, my laptop, has a broken power plug, and I've re-soldered the connection three times, but I just can't seem to make it stick. It takes fewer and fewer insertions to wear out the solder job. I need a new laptop. But it will be a while before I have a new one.

Eight months ago when I went to the Emergency Room at Meridian Park Hospital for severe headaches, my insurance decided not to cover the bill, and so far, I may be stuck with $1500 in medical bills. Since then, the headaches have subsided, and nobody could tell me a fucking thing about why they were happening.

Every time I look around me, I am reminded that I have been rewarded with physical posessions for doing absolutely nothing and squandering what little fortune I thought I had. Everything I see I regret having, and every person I know I somehow resent knowing without knowing why. There's something very wrong with me, and I've even admitted that if it were to all go away, I wouldn't miss a damn thing.

But if I were to stop here and ignore the good things, then this entry... this post... would have no redeeming value.

The whole truth is that I haven't gone looking for a job because I don't know where to start, and I'm too stubborn to ask for help. I've been pointed in the direction of a lead that has kept me waiting for an interview for nearly two months.

Despite paying little attention to class, I still pulled a 100% grade on the midterm. The problem is that my grade only encourages my wandering attention, and I have a dreadful feeling that we will cover material that will destroy me.

I've taken my laptop apart nearly a dozen times, but it continues to have the same problems. I'm lucky to have it at all, but it could certainly be more cooperative.

Every time I look around me, I see things that are new, shiny, or high-tech. It has come to bother me a bit that I don't have much that reminds me of a simpler, more innocent time. I can only try to remember my life before it became complicated. I rarely feel any emotion anymore -- except maybe anger and sadness.

Sometimes, I look around at the prizes of my laziness or the consequences of my incompetence, and I just wish for it to change. When I realize what I've wished for, I fear it. But I honestly don't know what I'm afraid of. And it's the fact that I'm afraid of what I don't know that worries me.

Other times, I come to the realization that I have made a mistake -- a mistake that costs me time, money, or pride (all of which are really meaningless). And it's the fact that I don't talk to anyone about the mistakes I've made, either because they are embarassing, stupid, or private, makes it impossible for me to learn from them or know what people normally do. It is at this point that I feel like damaging something. But I can't find anything expendable, so I look to myself, to my body, and to my skin. I want so badly to hurt myself, but I just can't bring myself to do it.

And as it finally sinks in that I am hopelessly lost in my own life and a tear begins to form before getting sucked back into the emotionless void, I must admit: although I am surrounded by family, I feel alone... with no end in sight.
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Monday, January 1st, 2007

Subject:Happy New Years
Time:Monday, January 1st @ 7:33
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/

Happy New Years friends, family, foes, and fuckers!

Everyone enjoy 2007, be safe, and do what you love.
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Tuesday, December 26th, 2006

Subject:New Year's Resolution == HD?
Time:Tuesday, December 26th @ 8:30
Mood: lethargic.
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/

My one New Year's wish:

People, stop bitching!

Merry Christmas does not alienate you if you are not Christian. Neither does Happy Haunakkah for Jews. Shut the fuck up, smile, and greet someone else with your phrase of choice. Hell, you could even fire your phrase back to the person who greeted you. It's called being nice.

Spilling coffee on yourself while driving does not give you the right to sue the vendor of the coffee or the manufacturer of the cupholder that "failed" to do its job. I can't tell you how many times a cup has fallen out of my cupholder only to spill in the passenger-side rug. Learn to take responsibility for your own stupidity, and more importantly, learn from it.

Airline companies don't build their airplanes. Airplane manufacturers do, and if you're too fat to fit in the seat, you don't need to join a frequent flyer club, you need to join Jenny fucking Craig. I, myself, find airplane seats uncomfortable, but the last time I flew across the country, I didn't say a damn thing for six hours. Put down the fork, the remote, and the gravy ladle and go for a walk. You don't even need to join a health club. People didn't drive to a exercise warehouse a thousand years ago, let alone a hundred. And it's dirt cheap to walk; just move your legs.

Don't blame the cop for pulling you over without a seatbelt. Don't blame the fast food joint that you're overweight. If you made a stupid fucking choice, deal with it. Don't blame it on someone else, don't even blame it on yourself. Just learn from it and move on.

Ya know, I'll go ahead and make this my New Year's resolution as well as my New year's wish. I'll be the first to stop bitching about stupid shit. I'll give everyone else better treatment and give them a 3-day rule. If it's something important, you have 3 days to be unhappy. After that, drop it and move on.

Peace.
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Sunday, December 3rd, 2006

Time:Sunday, December 3rd @ 8:14
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/

Dear God,

Thanks.

-Steve.
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Sunday, October 29th, 2006

Time:Sunday, October 29th @ 7:10
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/

Dear God,

It's beginning. Please don't let it happen.

Amen.

-Steve
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Tuesday, August 8th, 2006

Subject:Poem: Take It Away
Time:Tuesday, August 8th @ 12:13
Mood: calm.
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/

Strange how almost a year after I post this, I feel like writing again.


Take It Away
August 8, 2006
I met a girl who made me feel,
Perfectly good inside.
I loved her from the day we met,
She took me for a ride.

Alone we spent most of our time.
Talking about our past lives.
The things we did, and what we liked.
So fast the years flew by.

She came to me with a problem,
Told me what she did.
My heart sank to the concrete floor,
Cold as if I were dead.

Something that she couldn't fix.
The situation drawn:
A lonely night with bottle in hand,
And a friend she knew too long.

I didn't know what to do.
Two things were clear to me:
I loved this girl so very much.
But no longer perfectly.

I wish things had ended better.
Eventually I forgave,
But the truth still stuck fresh in my mind,
I could never again be betrayed.

Now I wish I could take it all back,
Return to the way that it used to be.
The choices we make,
About what's at stake,
Will guide us on our journey.
 

The poems posted in this entry are ©2006 Steven Glazer. Use for commercial purposes without written permission is strictly prohibited.
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Tuesday, August 1st, 2006

Subject:Back Online
Time:Tuesday, August 1st @ 1:08
D/L:http://hex.myftp.org/music/

It's been over three weeks since I had broadband at home. My systems are back online, and everything seems to be working just fine.

My Web site is back up, so feel free to visit. URL: http://agenthex.com/

I've reinstalled the gallery. It wouldn't refresh the thumbnails since I installed ImageMagick, so I deleted and reinstalled it. I've added a ton of images from my SD450, but I haven't quite gotten to converting the SD9 images to JPEG for upload. I will probably do that tomorrow (today?).

In any event. If you would like to check out the new images, the link is on the main page (and here: URL: http://agenthex.com/gallery2/index.php). The forums have also been cleared, so if you use that, you will need to re-register.
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LiveJournal for HeX.

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