balls and dip

i am mov­ing to cleve­land. thus forc­ing myself to become gain­ful­ly employed. then, i will cease being that guy who lives at home with his moth­er. the apart­ment is known as an ‘effi­cien­cy’ which i believe is a syn­onym to micro­scop­ic. but it is all i need. apart from a job that is. but that will come.

what i am seek­ing is an envi­ron­ment that gives me enough stim­u­lus to be pseu­do-cre­ative yet enough time to put that qua­si-ini­tia­tive to some gen­er­al­ly obscure pur­pose. i will also be able to resume fenc­ing, and said phys­i­cal exer­cise is sure to help work off my over­abun­dant ener­gy sup­ply. thus­ly i should be able to con­cen­trate on doing what i want instead of frit­ter­ing about like a man­drill anti­tranked on amphet­a­mines.

i will also be able to indulge in my latent or ram­pant whichev­er nerdi­ness and play mad mag­ic and/or goof off with var­i­ous or sundry whichev­er old­timey weapons.

then i should be able to rebe­gin pompous analy­ses of books, albums, movies ‑as well as use­less philo­soph­i­cal navel-gaz­ing redun­dan­cies, tak­ing pic­tures, writ­ing things, telling myself to take gui­tar lessons and pre­tend­ing to be some sort of pana­chioso babe mag­net.

things might return to nor­mal around here.

the week­end was nice. i was a ridicu­lous­ly awe­some scare­crow. my uber­goober scrawni­ness and gen­er­al spine­less­ness allowed me to sag most con­vinc­ing­ly on the steps of the house and scare [most­ly par­ents]. per­haps some­one will send me pic­tures of myself.

i met ober­lin fencers. the girls were rather hot. the guys were cool too i guess.
i smashed some pump­kins with a mornin­star, a war ham­mer, a tom­a­hawk, and a gun stock club.

i made sausage balls and pump­kin dip, both of which were con­sumed by all par­ties with ran­dom aban­don.

i’m done for now.