Set me free little snow, all ya gotta do is set me free little snow
The Kinks, ladies and gentlemen. That's whom I'm talking about. When you're snow bound and there isn't anything else to do other than wander around the apartment, scratching various appendages in hope that tactile stimulation will somehow cure what ails, then the Kinks are there for you. Also, Robert Cray is there, and Blonde Redhead, although occasionally Peter, Paul, and Mary pipe in with their delectable folk. For some reason, I have been compelled to download Velvet Revolver, and Pinback blasts my computer with wonderful sounds. Really, I need to find more folk musicians to satisfy my cravings for simple melodies on acoustic guitars. I would get jazz songs, but jazz is best served in album form, and the pieces scattered across the Internet are simply not enough to satisfy. In other words, I'm whittling away this Sunday listening to various music. I should be reading. More specifically, I should be flipping through my Aesthetics books in search of a thirty page senior thesis. But, I don't wanna right now. So, music, and this belated, much abused, much ignored blog.
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I got another tattoo the other day. I'm not quite sure what I think of it just yet. Some tattoos have to fester for a few days before I decide that I adore it. When I received the tattoo on my right wrist, the lines were incredible, but I wasn't sure what to think of the watch fob face. It just stared at me bleakly and when I lifted my arms, I could see time mocking me. I don't like time, but the fob face meant a lot to me. Now, I find myself staring at it in class, hoping that the lack of time will some how speed time up. In other words, I've come to adore that right tattoo, and its watch fob face clasp. The tattoo on my left, though, has a lot of competition. Had I gotten the left one first, I would have adored it, however, the right wrist tattoo is so magnificent. It's like the children in that the youngest can never leave the shadow of the eldest. So, I've been scrutinizing the left tattoo more than it deserves. Sure, it's a little lopsided. Normally that wouldn't bother me, but the angle of indent is such that I stare at it and mentally wish that it would some how re-align itself. Given time, this angle will be character and I will adore it, but right now I glare at it and threaten it with various abuses. Also, the shading over the letter is simply not long enough. That can be easily fixed, but in the mean time I simmer and wish I told the tattoo artist to draw the lines longer. Perhaps it will be best this way. The meshing of mixed length lines will have a pleasing effect. But, I wish to one day have a full sleeve, and many bars of shading on my left, so the lack of line length may help it gel with the other shade effects. But, we shall see. In the mean time, I do like my tattoo's sun clasp. I can't wait to add shimmer effects to it, to get rid of the sunny-side up egg look it has now.
In any case, the addition of a new tattoo has creates some interesting shower situations. Some of you may know that last December, I had the utter delight of cutting off the fingerprint of my right pinky finger. Because of damage extent, and the depth of the cut, it is still healing. Parts of the skin have yet to mesh, for lack of a better word, and I need to keep it relatively dry to compel the damned meshing to take place. So, for the last two months, I have been bathing myself with my left hand. This isn't too bad. It's mostly a pain in the ass, because I am right handed (although there was a short time in my youth when I considered myself ambidextrous. It took some self-convincing that the ability to shoot left while playing hockey and the ability to jerk off with both hands did not make one ambidextrous, but rather it made one interesting), but I've told myself that this exercise in left-handedness is increasing my left-hand dexterity. But, now that I have a tattoo on my left wrist, I cannot let it suffer direct water blasts. In other words, I have a right hand, which cannot get wet, and a left wrist, which cannot get wet. This does make for an interesting wash. Anyone who showers with me within the next two weeks has the joy of seeing the Jon-shower dance. It basically consists of me trying to get every part of my body wet and soaped without getting my right hand wet, and without suffering the left wrist to direct water hits. My roommates eagerly await the shriek and thump that will come with my sudden and painful fall.
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I am suffering the effect of too much time on my hands. This is not a good thing as I require a lot of activities to keep myself going. Given time, I will sit and become a collective puddle of Jon-flesh. This is not appealing to me, or to the girls who wish to experience Jon-flesh. Jon-flesh is much more exciting in its natural, hard and collective state. Also, given too much free time, other activities are bound to suffer, such as this blog. When I don’t have much time, it's easier for me to sit down and give myself time limits to write. Ah, so I have class from this to that, and a small break. I will use this break to eat and write in the blog. Now that I have maybe one or two classes a day, and no job on top of it, I find myself sitting on the computer, reading comics, listening to music, perusing news sites, and buggering myself to motorcycle columns and pictures.
I could get a job, but I need the flexibility that this spring offers. I plan on visiting a lot of friends, having a lot of friends visit me, and going on quite a few road trips. I'm leaving the Midwest, possibly for good, and I want to imbibe as much of it as possible. The last job I had, shitty as it was, was extremely flexible and I loved it for that. Most retail jobs, however, are not quite as flexible. I wouldn't mind another bartending job, but I have contacted a former teacher about letting me work in her husband's flower shop. I worked in a nursery for a few years and I enjoy working with plants. I wouldn't mind helping them out, especially now that spring flower season is bearing down. First come pansies, and then geraniums, impatiens, and summer flowers. Good times. Good times.
Maybe I oughta write a book, or something. Rosencratz has mentioned that he's in the process of writing one. I'm not going to let him show me up, again. Hell, my life has been interesting enough in the last few years to supply me with enough stories to write quite the novel. Perhaps I should start it, just to show myself that I can remain focused enou...ooh, shiny.
-----
I got another tattoo the other day. I'm not quite sure what I think of it just yet. Some tattoos have to fester for a few days before I decide that I adore it. When I received the tattoo on my right wrist, the lines were incredible, but I wasn't sure what to think of the watch fob face. It just stared at me bleakly and when I lifted my arms, I could see time mocking me. I don't like time, but the fob face meant a lot to me. Now, I find myself staring at it in class, hoping that the lack of time will some how speed time up. In other words, I've come to adore that right tattoo, and its watch fob face clasp. The tattoo on my left, though, has a lot of competition. Had I gotten the left one first, I would have adored it, however, the right wrist tattoo is so magnificent. It's like the children in that the youngest can never leave the shadow of the eldest. So, I've been scrutinizing the left tattoo more than it deserves. Sure, it's a little lopsided. Normally that wouldn't bother me, but the angle of indent is such that I stare at it and mentally wish that it would some how re-align itself. Given time, this angle will be character and I will adore it, but right now I glare at it and threaten it with various abuses. Also, the shading over the letter is simply not long enough. That can be easily fixed, but in the mean time I simmer and wish I told the tattoo artist to draw the lines longer. Perhaps it will be best this way. The meshing of mixed length lines will have a pleasing effect. But, I wish to one day have a full sleeve, and many bars of shading on my left, so the lack of line length may help it gel with the other shade effects. But, we shall see. In the mean time, I do like my tattoo's sun clasp. I can't wait to add shimmer effects to it, to get rid of the sunny-side up egg look it has now.
In any case, the addition of a new tattoo has creates some interesting shower situations. Some of you may know that last December, I had the utter delight of cutting off the fingerprint of my right pinky finger. Because of damage extent, and the depth of the cut, it is still healing. Parts of the skin have yet to mesh, for lack of a better word, and I need to keep it relatively dry to compel the damned meshing to take place. So, for the last two months, I have been bathing myself with my left hand. This isn't too bad. It's mostly a pain in the ass, because I am right handed (although there was a short time in my youth when I considered myself ambidextrous. It took some self-convincing that the ability to shoot left while playing hockey and the ability to jerk off with both hands did not make one ambidextrous, but rather it made one interesting), but I've told myself that this exercise in left-handedness is increasing my left-hand dexterity. But, now that I have a tattoo on my left wrist, I cannot let it suffer direct water blasts. In other words, I have a right hand, which cannot get wet, and a left wrist, which cannot get wet. This does make for an interesting wash. Anyone who showers with me within the next two weeks has the joy of seeing the Jon-shower dance. It basically consists of me trying to get every part of my body wet and soaped without getting my right hand wet, and without suffering the left wrist to direct water hits. My roommates eagerly await the shriek and thump that will come with my sudden and painful fall.
-------
I am suffering the effect of too much time on my hands. This is not a good thing as I require a lot of activities to keep myself going. Given time, I will sit and become a collective puddle of Jon-flesh. This is not appealing to me, or to the girls who wish to experience Jon-flesh. Jon-flesh is much more exciting in its natural, hard and collective state. Also, given too much free time, other activities are bound to suffer, such as this blog. When I don’t have much time, it's easier for me to sit down and give myself time limits to write. Ah, so I have class from this to that, and a small break. I will use this break to eat and write in the blog. Now that I have maybe one or two classes a day, and no job on top of it, I find myself sitting on the computer, reading comics, listening to music, perusing news sites, and buggering myself to motorcycle columns and pictures.
I could get a job, but I need the flexibility that this spring offers. I plan on visiting a lot of friends, having a lot of friends visit me, and going on quite a few road trips. I'm leaving the Midwest, possibly for good, and I want to imbibe as much of it as possible. The last job I had, shitty as it was, was extremely flexible and I loved it for that. Most retail jobs, however, are not quite as flexible. I wouldn't mind another bartending job, but I have contacted a former teacher about letting me work in her husband's flower shop. I worked in a nursery for a few years and I enjoy working with plants. I wouldn't mind helping them out, especially now that spring flower season is bearing down. First come pansies, and then geraniums, impatiens, and summer flowers. Good times. Good times.
Maybe I oughta write a book, or something. Rosencratz has mentioned that he's in the process of writing one. I'm not going to let him show me up, again. Hell, my life has been interesting enough in the last few years to supply me with enough stories to write quite the novel. Perhaps I should start it, just to show myself that I can remain focused enou...ooh, shiny.
posted by Jon at 1:01 PM
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