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Action Steve!!!

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[15 Jun 2007|11:39pm]
tonight Allana and I got all dressed up to go play prison rules basketball with Jillian and Erica and The New Gods (or The Nude Bods, or whatever they're calling themselves now) and the Hotel Idlewild crew at Barbara Bennett Park, but none of them were there.

this is what we were wearing...

tiny black mesh shorts (rolled up at the top and bottom)
big yellow striped tube socks
a yellow Libby Booth Bruins sleeveless shirt
a yellow arm sweat band
green converse all stars

super tight black cutoff shorts
yellow tank top
yellow shoes

so we decided to go just walk around downtown. and we did, we went to the movie theatre and bugged Ben, then we went to Dreamers and found my brother's friend Kim sitting there drinking coffee, so i did leg stretches in the window sill in an attempt to display my mesh encased balls, then Jake showed up and acted a little awkward as we stretched. then we went to the grass by Ross Manor and did more super exaggerated stretches. then Russel (weird ass asian guy) and Blake (semi-dirty hardcore kid) showed up with their friend Michael (bearded guy) (i don't think anybody on my livejournal friends list knows who any of these kids are) and Michael liked our stretching, thought it was great, so we did more. somewhere in the middle of that Russel and Blake made out, and Blake may have gotten herpes from Russel. Russel started screaming some 3 Inches Of Blood song and Michael said we need a team name so we decided on Team Danger Danger Thunder Strike and my name is either Shark Attack or Cobra Strike (if it's that then i'll spell it as Kobra Stryke but i don't like repeating Strike from the Team name) and Allana's Liquid Speed, but we're still working on a better name (like Iron Shadow or The Walking Human Fist)
4 met me under the neon arch | put your lungs to use

[10 May 2007|09:40pm]
-new freedom to drive to my dad's house on a whim
-NiGHTS: Into Dreams sequel
-a number of new comics that are going to rock ass (World War Hulk, captain america #26, the cliffhanger after Initiative Avengers #2, avengers and transformers crossover)
-huge amount of comics and trades that i ordered are coming soon
-2 weeks off from work
-School's almost over
put your lungs to use

[06 May 2007|02:04pm]
The image “http://i24.photobucket.com/albums/c16/jeffspurlock/1177805845491.jpg” cannot be displayed, because it contains errors.

last night was wonderful

EDIT: picture has nothing to do with last night, i just though it was funny
put your lungs to use

[01 May 2007|10:31pm]
i feel so liberated

no longer will i be tied to the tyranny that is socks

my eyes have been opened

i can't see how i'd been so blind to this beauty for so long

it's like when i decided that i don't hate denim or cola
3 met me under the neon arch | put your lungs to use

[30 Apr 2007|08:11pm]
next year we will be prepared for coachella, no foul ups, no lack of water, no more comic books getting ruined by leaking ice chests

but other than that it was the best ever

if you want more detail then that, just AIM me or something, i'm TheBopBopBop
put your lungs to use

[17 Apr 2007|03:18pm]
it's been a while since there's been something in my life that makes me truely excited to live it.

and it's impossible to describe exactly how amazing she makes me feel.

and it's just as hard to tell myself that she has a boyfriend.

and, yeah... it kills me while making me feel absolutely wonderful.
put your lungs to use

[15 Apr 2007|04:01pm]
if i was made of money, i would get this


and if Rafael or Faustino brought the bikes that they're each trying to sell me, i could have a cheap (according to them) good condition road bicycle ($50-60)

and if i could get my paychecks for the next month or so now, without working a month or so, then i would have a new bass, and non shitty amp, a kick ass camera, and a ton of comic books
1 met me under the neon arch | put your lungs to use

[08 Apr 2007|05:25pm]
i'm at work, some guys come in for their pizzas
their last pizza is about a minute away from being finished, so they get a couple beers while they wait. this conversation goes down

yuppie guy in bicycle outfit: we were suprised that you were open
me: yeah, i was too, i didn't realize that today would be Easter until a couple days ago, and i looked at the schedule and was extremely disapointed
YGIBO: and are you at least getting overtime for this
me: nope
YGIBO: well, nobody should have to work on Easter, here's a little tip
*hands me a $20 bill*
me: thank you, sir

it makes the day nicer, but i'd still rather not be here

but Napoleon Dynamite was on one of the Spanish channels, so Faustino and i watched Napoleón Dinamita, and now Tino calls me Esteban Dinamita, so now i'm Esteban, Estebandido, Estebancito, Esteban Dinamita, y Hijo De Platano.
put your lungs to use

[04 Apr 2007|09:25pm]
I'm Repeated Themes

...I wake up on the couch wet with sweat. There's something about couches and how only a second of sleep on one draws beads from my skin. The shirt sticks to my back. This is familiar, therefore it is right. My mind fills me in on everything i lost while sleeping. "The bookmark fell from it's place when your book hit the ground. You missed dinner. You didn't turn out the lights or take your shoes off, so the couch is dirty and well lit. Your mother's angry. Your brother's out of town. Your lover's got a man-" There it is. Ton of bricks. Eyes can fade in your mind, but smiles just burn, and this one burns. This is familiar, therefore it is right. It's not even that I remembered it as something new, it's just a repeated theme that the author wrote into my life for the sake of being clever and proving that he knows his shit. That's what I've been boiled down to, repeated themes, literary devices, all my favorite authors and all my favorite books. Maybe I'll burn while rescuing kitten from a fire, heroic, maybe I'll be taken by the sea, godly, maybe I'll choke on realistic looking wax fruit while in a drunken haze, fucking lame. This is where i stand, broken and honest and trying not to think of the smile that burns. It's beautiful. It's familiar, therefore it is right, ...
put your lungs to use

[01 Apr 2007|02:34am]
Happy Late Birthday LeanneCollapse )
4 met me under the neon arch | put your lungs to use

[25 Mar 2007|11:40pm]
alright, so decompression sickness, a robot from Futurama, a kink in a river, Radiohead's second album, and a city in Deschutes County Oregon get in a fight...


it was a battle of the bends
3 met me under the neon arch | put your lungs to use

[25 Mar 2007|02:35am]
Fake Problems was awesome.
Riverboat Gamblers were much better than i thought they'd be.
Against Me! was awesome times seven thousand. it's not even that they sounded good, (because they really didn't sound that great) it was just... spiritual in almost Patrick Bateman and Bono proportions

but does anybody in Reno go to shows to dance (other than Alicia Gomez and sXe kids, both of which were absent tonight) other than me?

oh, and walking around with a text on your phone that says "I'm steve, wanna dance?" and showing it to various people is not the way to go about asking people even though it's too loud to talk, because for the most part i think they thought i meant something else by "wanna dance", but no, seriously, i just wanted to dance. Mara and Kate's friend was the only one who took me up on it, and i'm pretty sure she even thinks i'm a creep.

put your lungs to use

[18 Mar 2007|09:36pm]
i realized i'm not writing straight up poetry anymore, i'm writing songs, but i just can't play guitar and sing at the same time, so for now they're still poetry and not what they're probably suposed to be, like this, it's a lame poem, but a mediocre psuedo(notatall)revolutionary angsty teen anthem... of sorts... even though each "stanza" could be a chorus, blah.

I don't have a name yet, but it's not "tonight, tonight", I swear

Raise your lighters
Ignite your torches
Turn on the bug zappers on your country fried porches
Open the windows
Turn the amps to eleven
They’re gonna see us in space, they’re gonna hear us in heaven

Tonight, tonight
We’re gonna wake this state
They’ll rub their eyes in our wake
Now march, now march
We’ll be heard at last
They’ll shut their eyes as we pass
Now go, now go
Grab your knife and gun
we’ve got them on the run

tonight, tonight
we’re a beautiful sight, tonight
we’re made of holy light, tonight
we’re saviors tonight, tonight
put your lungs to use

[18 Mar 2007|03:35am]
anybody know what that weird foreign-esque scientific experiment gone wrong blockhead tv thing commerical (you won't know what i'm talking about unless you've seen it) is that they're showing at Reno theaters, i don't know if it's limited to Riverside, but i saw it twice there, once for Pan's Labyrinth and once for 300

what the hell is it?

it's creepy
6 met me under the neon arch | put your lungs to use

[17 Mar 2007|02:57am]
i made this cd for my mommy. for no reason. just cause she's wonderful to me.

1. Bloc Party - Banquet
2. Sorry About Dresden - On Contradiction
3. The Faint - Typing: 1974 - 2048
4. Andrew Bird - Imitosis
5. The Shins - Know Your Onion!
6. Elliott Smith - Let's Get Lost
7. Arcade Fire - Rebellion (Lies)
8. Okkervil River - Song Of Our So-Called Friend
9. Rocky Votolato - White Daisy Passing
10. Sufjan Stevens - Come On! Feel The Illinoise!
11. Hanalei - Action Drum
12. M Ward - Here Comes The Sun Again
13. Sondre Lerche - Two Way Monologue
14. Little Man Tate - European Lover
15. Death Cab For Cutie - Death Of An Interior Decorator
16. Armor For Sleep - My Town
17. Franz Ferdinand - The Dark Of The Matinee
18. Snow Patrol - How To Be Dead
19. John Vanderslice - Exodus Damage
20. Brendan Benson - What I'm Looking For
21. City & Colour - Save Your Scissors

and on an extremely different note, Rafael told me that acne will go away if you masturbate more, this is the same man who squeezed a lime into his hand and streamed it through my hair as a natural gel (even though it worked), and also the same man who would put pepperonis in the broken flap on the sole of matt's boots and say "you shoes is hungry, hehe", and this is also the same man who will empty a can of corn into a cup, cover in mayonaise and cilantro and eat with a spoon... yeeaaaaah
4 met me under the neon arch | put your lungs to use

[15 Mar 2007|02:49pm]
here's a song i wrote about the internet

Spam isn't even meat, it's gross!

i don't know what Snoop Dogg's name is really
i don't want to make my own zwinky
i don't want to win a new ps3
i don't think my lover's looking for me
i don't need tones for when my cellphone rings

ring tones!
free desktops!
travel sites!
dating sites!
free music!
travel sites!
dating sites!
put your lungs to use

[13 Mar 2007|02:38pm]
i want to be a singer/kayboardest or bassist in a post-dance-punk band, but it'd be dancier than every other dance-punk band and hardcore-ier than every other post-punk band, and our live show would be rivaled only by live manaquin decapitations and giant hamster balls.

any takers?
put your lungs to use

Poetry smackdown, read it if you want, but please do [13 Mar 2007|01:20am]
Western world economics, child bearing

The little plastic heater
was a backrest for reading gigantic books
to myself
I would read ahead and change my voice
to match the characters
to sound more convincing
to impress my mother.
It blew electric desert air in from the walls
and it's green light looked like a star
in the tint of a dark room
in the squint of an impatient eye
in the glint of a seven year old tear
my mother would say grow up
because I’m too old too cry
my brother would say it's not fair
that I can get what I want
that I’m not much younger
that I’m such a fucking baby
ten years past
I’m a real man and I prove it
in front of a full length mirror
in the complete nude
in front of another cheap heater
that can only warm me
if I disown these years of growth
and cower in front of its vents
on my hands and knees
on the carpet
on square one, again

on a completely 100% unrelated note...
i miss her
on another unrelated note...

Prey on meat, pray on meat

It isn’t even fair
How quick these hyenas makes their approach
It’s the buffalo’s God damn fault
That God didn’t make them
More God damn quick
Double bass drumbeats turn to an almighty blur
As I scratch lines in slow motion
Across my palms like fingernails pressed tight
In bare knuckle boxing
I’m subject to the jab
Of hyena teeth
On flesh
On bone
On the neck’s awful jerk
As it yanks up toward God
To see the eyes of a man
Butcher’s knife
Scissor set
Machete blade
My lover’s eyes
Sullen and sinking deep as she turns from the hyena
And onto the buffalo.
How I long to live my life
Loving instead of laughing
At the death of such angels
As my teeth sink deep
As the blood fills my gums
As I speak nonsense of books I’ve never read
I’m intelligent because I try
I’m a monster because they don’t suspect a thing
I’m dead because I (myself)
Don’t suspect a thing either.
I’m dead to the hyena that’s gnawing through my legs
As I’m just trying to drink
From springs of gold and silver and bronze and brass and cotton fiber flesh
I’m nothing of a buffalo
I’m built for so much more.
I’m built to chew through legs (myself) of others
Who trap
And hang
And snare
And share their game with perfect beings
And perfect bonds
As mine to the universe crumbles with the air
(Y dios mio)
(Soy no posible)
I can’t even feel what tears up my hands
I can only pray
(and my gods)
(I’m not possible)
to the hyenas that it won’t scar over
that the teeth will leave streaks and I’ll remember

also unrelated

through the dust and the ashes
i'm simple and passive
so we can swing with our hammers
at the base of heaven's ladders
and be free
5 met me under the neon arch | put your lungs to use

[08 Mar 2007|07:21pm]
here's the dream i had today after school

i was riding this really weird roller coaster with Adrien, but the seats in the cars faced eachother and they were in little cages like ferris wheel things. but there weren't any seatbelts and the roller coaster just kept doing plunges and loops in this giant caged box, so then Scott appears, but he was a spider and he was hanging on the walls of the cage, so i climb out and talk to him for a couple seconds because i didn't want to do one loop, then i slid down the tracks and got back in the roller coaster car and Adrien was filming the roller coaster ride, and my hat kept falling off, but i wasn't really wearing a hat until then. then we talk about how there aren't any seatbelts, and then i find the seatbelts and put them on and wake up.

and i finished my Animal themed CDs
put your lungs to use

[05 Mar 2007|12:25am]
With great facial hair comes great responsibility

I am a man. Yet, I am still human. I eat red meat. Yet, I am not a monster. I am relatively cool. Yet, I don’t have any creative facial hair. As to how the latter works is beyond me. That’s why I need a beard (or any sort of facial bushiness) to secure my coolness, which, in its current state, is probably a fluke. Experimenting with facial hair is an important part of the male high school experience, possibly even the most important, because so much depends on what grows out of a person’s face.
The moustache is of the most basic of the facial hair world yet also the most artistically beautiful and complicated. It can range from the subtly commanding “nasty ol’ crabgrass patch on the upper lip” (which is rather common amongst the teenagers of today) to the iron fisted Fu Manchu and Pancho Villa style ‘staches of yesteryear. My father carries a mighty soup strainer moustache of Burt Reynolds proportions, so there is at least a shred (or follicle) of hope for me. Even if it’s not in the direction of that of Salvador Dali or Snidely Whiplash (as I so strive), I can still count on looking something like a Polish Geraldo Rivera, which is probably even less fun than it sounds.
Beards are the south-of-the-lip cousins of the moustache, and a truly amazing piece of artwork. They can almost magically transform any wearer into a Mac user, a Motorhead fan, or a Civil War reenactment enthusiast, depending on the magnitude of said beard. But it is impossible to venture into the Forest of Beard without wading through the slightly warm and sometimes uncomfortably fizzy waters of the sideburn gardens.
For decades the beard and sideburn have lived in beautiful harmony as neighbors, good friends, and firm shoulders to cry on during hard times. Examples of this tangency exist in the world changing presence of such bearded powerhouses as Karl Marx, Ho Chi Minh, and Willie Nelson, all of which could not amass such followings as they have without the aid of beards. Sideburns can stand alone as well, just look at Ludacris and any mutton chop clad British police officer (although the latter is in rather short supply these days)
I do not necessarily need a beard to further succeed in life, but being confused for an intellectual and politically knowledgeable college student hipster could be a nice change of pace. There are definitely better uses of facial hair in my book, (but technically it’s still a manuscript, but complaints can be sent to Houghton Mifflin about changing that).
Facial hair is a glorious power that carries the burden of much responsibility. Only those who can truly wield its might should be allowed the privilege of carrying it, while the rest of the world (like me) admires their splendor from afar.
put your lungs to use

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