Wall Flower Dies!
Thanks to actual humans who actually reply to customer service emails, the new rollertrain has COMMENTS!, courtesy of Disqus and Marc at tumblr.
Sorry about the constant tumblr blowjobbing, but it's worth the swallow. The Disqus (siy, thss noo marktng speek izs su-oh annoi-ng) comments currently look crappy, but at least I can hear you now.
(Aside: Verizon, your service does not work in Costa Rica, and that four-eyed hipster icon faggot really needs a new ad agency.)
If you are indeed still here: Please stop coming here, and please start going here.
Love,
rollr : trayn
Tumblr: Beating the Total Crap out of Blogger
More interesting things are happening on the other rollertrain. I'll keep this place around, because we've been together since 2001 (hello, lover! sorry i killed you). But right now, I've got the hots for tumblr. It's easier, faster and built better than blogger.
Exhibit A: This post would've taken me at least two hours on blogger (i know that is very sad), but because the dashboard on tumblr is so much simpler, and because it allows you to manage the content of each post more efficiently, it took fifteen minutes. Unless I get hyper-pissy about something, I'll probably be hanging out there most of the time. Until I get bored.
Most of the stuff I'll be posting is gonna be heavy on the art faggory. This might come across as snotty, lame and "porn ruined my life; therefore I will pretend it never happened," but here's the thing: I am a green-eared baby novice know-nothing, and there is an overwhelming number of things I've got to learn about what art means, where it comes from, why I'm doing this, and what I'm going to do for money when I exit fantasy land.
I can't figure out how to apply Haloscan comments to the NEW ROLLERTRAIN (gotta go to "manual mode," which i can't find on the dashboard - and even if i did find it, i'd fuck it up), so for now it's a one-way place. Tips would be appreciated. Hope you stick around.
Two Down, Four to Go
When I walked into the annoying Arts & Humanities class on Tuesday, I had no idea we were taking the final exam. Not sure what my final grade will be, but I'm glad the course is over. What an utter waste of time, and what a seriously delightful group of students.
This morning, I had my final critique for my drawing portfolio. Lessons learned: My compositions tend to fall back on the safety of diagonal directions, which is kind of cheating, because anything that zigs from one corner to another is automatically dynamic; I need to practice drawing more; I can concentrate in any situation as long as I have an ipod; I have more technical skill than I give myself credit for. Also, out of 20-something drawings, five of them really, really sucked. Never look at a thing straight on.
Total Score: A.
Next: Design portfolio critique, comprehensive Health exam, and the dreaded African American and Wholly Encompassing Art History finals.
Also: Considering saying farewell to rollertrain on blogger and moving on to a much simpler rollertrain. Porn and blogsex hold no interest for me anymore, and I'm tired of sharing personal things and opinions that piss off people who have a rough time accepting ideas they don't share, despite how much emic thinking conflicts with their judgment-free rhetoric.
Heh. College. Let's go get drunk with the NCCU kids at First Friday.
Destroyer Porn + Carolina Drought
Most baffling item of the week: I somehow hit an oily nerve with that last post. Sorry, friends. Your excellent and very angry suggestions that I need to do more intensive research about the human contribution to global warming made it into rollertrain's hate mail folder. Pretty good response rate for a personal post about Thanksgiving that wasn't aimed at the outraged liberal demographic.
This piddly blog has never lived up to the surprising number of people I manage to piss off. It doesn't have a clear focus beyond petty bitching, so I've never understood the ratio between content and the two kinds of emails I get: Angry and Motherly/Fatherly Advice. Please don't let that prevent any future notes, though. I love them. Leaving a comment is a better way of opening and encouraging a wider discussion, though, and you can yell at me anonymously, which I also love (seriously).
Also, so you know: This is one of seventeen trillion personal blogs on the interweb, I'm currently a registered Libertarian, I voted for Gore and Kerry, and at one point in my life, I probably loathed George W. Bush more than you do now.
Now, the North Carolina drought. This probably won't interest anyone who doesn't live on the Southeast coast.
Our awesome city of Durham has less than sixty days of accessible water left in Lake Michie. We've been under mandatory water restrictions since summer time, and severe mandatory conservation restrictions begin December third. The city's website has some tips on how to cut down on water use.
Matt and I stopped watering our poor yard and outdoor plants in June. We've been collecting the cold water in the shower in a couple of Home Depot buckets to water our potted plants, which is a bit of a challenge, because it takes about five minutes for the hot water to reach our one shower. In order to move the clothes dryer inside the soon-to-be laundry closet, we had to move the water heater outside. It's an energy-efficient heater and the pipes are well-insulated, which makes taking five-minute showers difficult. I really miss long, hot baths.
When we get closer to finishing the new kitchen, we'll install a water heater under the kitchen sink. The bathrooms pose an entirely new and expensive issue, and will need to be redone and improved at some point.
We pee in the toilet with a limited supply of wiping paper at least four times before flushing. Because Jack has figured out how to lift the toilet lid, I've insisted that all shit be flushed as soon as it greets the day. Every morning, when I'm enjoying my post-coffee poop, my ass gets splashed with at least four loads of pee. It's so refreshing.
We also pee outside a lot, which is - on top of the hollering and music and hammering and dog barking and late-night sex - one more reason for our 107-year-old neighbors to love us.
We pour water into a cup to brush our teeth. This is totally disgusting. Sometimes I cheat and wash my mouth out with non-spit-stringy water.
I don't know about Matt, but I haven't washed my car in two years. That's mostly because it's near the bottom of my to-do list, along with replacing the roof, paying $11,000 for dental surgery and getting rid of that goddamn boat in the driveway.
We have well water, because where we live used to be in the middle of nowhere, but we haven't used it during the drought because the aquifer it comes from is supplied by the same source as Durham's water supply. I think it's hilarious when avid (and surely Republican) gardeners put "WELL H20" signs in their pretty green yards.
The washing machine and dishwasher are used sparingly, which means a lot of wearing the same clothes several times and not having any clean forks and coffee cups for a week.
Rough life, eh?
Further water conservation suggestions are most welcomed, as the immediate future looks dry. Thanks for reading rollertrain, and thanks for yelling at me.
This piddly blog has never lived up to the surprising number of people I manage to piss off. It doesn't have a clear focus beyond petty bitching, so I've never understood the ratio between content and the two kinds of emails I get: Angry and Motherly/Fatherly Advice. Please don't let that prevent any future notes, though. I love them. Leaving a comment is a better way of opening and encouraging a wider discussion, though, and you can yell at me anonymously, which I also love (seriously).
Also, so you know: This is one of seventeen trillion personal blogs on the interweb, I'm currently a registered Libertarian, I voted for Gore and Kerry, and at one point in my life, I probably loathed George W. Bush more than you do now.
Now, the North Carolina drought. This probably won't interest anyone who doesn't live on the Southeast coast.
Our awesome city of Durham has less than sixty days of accessible water left in Lake Michie. We've been under mandatory water restrictions since summer time, and severe mandatory conservation restrictions begin December third. The city's website has some tips on how to cut down on water use.
Matt and I stopped watering our poor yard and outdoor plants in June. We've been collecting the cold water in the shower in a couple of Home Depot buckets to water our potted plants, which is a bit of a challenge, because it takes about five minutes for the hot water to reach our one shower. In order to move the clothes dryer inside the soon-to-be laundry closet, we had to move the water heater outside. It's an energy-efficient heater and the pipes are well-insulated, which makes taking five-minute showers difficult. I really miss long, hot baths.
When we get closer to finishing the new kitchen, we'll install a water heater under the kitchen sink. The bathrooms pose an entirely new and expensive issue, and will need to be redone and improved at some point.
We pee in the toilet with a limited supply of wiping paper at least four times before flushing. Because Jack has figured out how to lift the toilet lid, I've insisted that all shit be flushed as soon as it greets the day. Every morning, when I'm enjoying my post-coffee poop, my ass gets splashed with at least four loads of pee. It's so refreshing.
We also pee outside a lot, which is - on top of the hollering and music and hammering and dog barking and late-night sex - one more reason for our 107-year-old neighbors to love us.
We pour water into a cup to brush our teeth. This is totally disgusting. Sometimes I cheat and wash my mouth out with non-spit-stringy water.
I don't know about Matt, but I haven't washed my car in two years. That's mostly because it's near the bottom of my to-do list, along with replacing the roof, paying $11,000 for dental surgery and getting rid of that goddamn boat in the driveway.
We have well water, because where we live used to be in the middle of nowhere, but we haven't used it during the drought because the aquifer it comes from is supplied by the same source as Durham's water supply. I think it's hilarious when avid (and surely Republican) gardeners put "WELL H20" signs in their pretty green yards.
The washing machine and dishwasher are used sparingly, which means a lot of wearing the same clothes several times and not having any clean forks and coffee cups for a week.
Rough life, eh?
Further water conservation suggestions are most welcomed, as the immediate future looks dry. Thanks for reading rollertrain, and thanks for yelling at me.
Fanksgivin
Over the Thanksgiving holiday, Matt and I drove up to southern New Jersey to hang out with my stepmom's family. If you like cute babies or want to check out my good-looking sisters, handsome brother, gorgeous stepmom and the lovely east coast autumn, go here.
Holidays with my now-former step family are always a blast. I would write about the now-former thing, but it's the usual divorce story.
Holiday traffic included a 3.5-hour jam in DC, which extended the typically seven-hour drive into ten-something hours. All the colors in the drought/heat stricken trees made it worth the delay. I also finally finished reading An Instance of the Fingerpost. That book has been through fifteen US states and a lot of figuring out about the Restoration. It's a long and very good book.
Next book on the beat-up nightstand (aside from those two thousand years of art history I need to finish this week) is Lives of the Monster Dogs. Crappy reviews be damned: You can't spit at a first novel about genetically engineered 18th century intellectual Prussian canines with prosthetic hands and voice boxes.
The fall semester at ART SCHOOL ends in three weeks. My pal Leigh Anne's Pandora stations have helped me stumble through many procrastinated projects over many late nights. Thank you, LA. Shame that Pandora insists on flashy member's-only linkage.
Over the holiday, I was supposed to make the train to NYC to hang out with some of my favorite girls for a night of quiet dive-bar enjoyment. Bellie, Double D, Keef, Screwboy, Kirsten, Dacia and WFMU folks: Sorry. It's the fucking baby's fault.
Thankful for the glass of wine and cigarette in my hands. Undefendable vices like these infuriate good people like this. But holy fucking hell - how long do you really want to live? Addict philosophies make better defenses than health zealotry. The irony of this irritating new American world of safety and longevity green lifestylists is how much longer the anti-vicers will actually stay alive.
Global warming is the greatest political sham since Jesus.
Please don't mistake my opinions for careless living. Matt and I continue to sucker up to the efficient home model, the water conservation, the physical activity, the nutritious dietry, the energy proficiency, the buy-local dogma, etc.
But fuck this shit about wanting to live past the age of ninety. Unless my lung cancer/liver failure kicks in before the 65-70 age range, give me good morphine, sixteen plane tickets and a bevy of beautiful young men to molest.
And for the record: Good goddery, I love nature because I'm fucking selfish. It makes me happy. If it didn't, I wouldn't bother trying to protect it.
Bets are that neither would you, or anyone else. People don't take care of things or creatures that bring them displeasure. The PC bullshit fibbing about selfless caring is the third biggest sham since Jesus.
Poor Jesus. All he ever wanted was to make sense of the world.
Another thing about global warming and religion: If we are creatures of this planet, what argument explains our purpose here? Are we flukes? Are we animals? If we're flukes, then where and what was the original fluke's origin? If we're animals, aren't we doing the same thing that all animals have been doing for the last something-billion years, on a slightly more artistic scale?
If industrialization is the ruin of the human race, then why did it happen in the first place?
The only answer I can think of is that line in all religious books about not knowing as much as whatever god knows, what with the whole omniscient thing.
I'm starting to lose my sexual attraction to Jesus. He's just too nice and unrealistic. Zeus, on the other hand, is my kind of dude. I mean, Dude.
This is what happens to a poorly written and irresponsibly maintained blog that abruptly switches from porno to art school. You start thinking about everything in a way that never completes itself. Wanting to touch anything with a sparkling eye takes a very welcomed backseat.
fried rollertrain
Let's not be fooled though. That red dragon wakes up when you're completely and wholly content with your place and position in this world. It starts in a dream that shoves your nerves into seizure and brings an iron skillet down onto the softest, most inculpable part of your skull.
So you sit up in a sweat and reach for your love, bury your nose into his grimy, delicious hair, restrain from biting into the perfect cornucopia of muscle that runs from his neck to his thick, embracing span of shoulder, let out a muffled banshee yelp and start all over again.
Let's not be fooled though. That red dragon wakes up when you're completely and wholly content with your place and position in this world. It starts in a dream that shoves your nerves into seizure and brings an iron skillet down onto the softest, most inculpable part of your skull.
So you sit up in a sweat and reach for your love, bury your nose into his grimy, delicious hair, restrain from biting into the perfect cornucopia of muscle that runs from his neck to his thick, embracing span of shoulder, let out a muffled banshee yelp and start all over again.
This Weekend: Durham Art Walk
If you're in or around Durham this weekend, check out the downtown Art Walk. It's highly enjoyable. To enhance your local art-faggory, there are plenty of excellent drinking establishments around the area. You can even come to the information desk at the Durham Arts Council and throw things at me while I hand out brochures or something.
The Unstoppable Cheap Phone Has Stopped
Dropped it into a toilet three times. Misplaced it for extended periods of time twice. Threw it across the house/yard/street four or five times. Ended up in the recycling bin once. Dumped it into a pitcher of cold water the second day I got it. Spilled paint, juice, soda, wine and other alcoholic liquids onto it at least once a day for the last two years. Included it in the latest batch of laundry in the washing machine. Put it in the freezer for a day and it still worked.
It's most likely dead now. Money and motivation for getting a new cheap cell phone will take their time. If you need anything, which you probably won't, but the holidays are coming up, so just in case, email (rollertrain@gmail) or call Matt.
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