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07
October

I’m so wavy

Written by Tom. No comments Posted in: Uncategorized


Been a while, a while, a while. Guess I’ve lost the writing ghost of some…writer, or maybe I just got bored and didn’t have much to write about, maybe a mix between the two. I really don’t know as I’m sitting here listening to some tunes, trying to remember things I did or what’s been up since the last time, let’s see if I can unearth shit worth “blogging” about. I still dislike that word “blogging.” I don’t blog, the fuck out of here, I write, I type-write.

Hello darkness, my old friend, I’ve come to talk with you again because a vision softly creeping left its seeds while I was sleeping and the vision that was planted in my brain still remains within the sound of silence.
In restless dreams I walked alone, narrow streets of cobblestone ‘neath the halo of a street lamp, I turned my collar to the cold and damp when my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light that split the night and touched the sound of silence.
And in the naked light I saw ten thousand people, maybe more, people talking without speaking, people hearing without listening, people writing songs that voices never share, and no one dared disturb the sound of silence.
Fools said I, you do not know, silence like a cancer grows, hear my words that I might teach you, take my arms that I might reach you, but my words like silent raindrops fell and echoed in the wells of silence.
And the people bowed and prayed to the neon god they made and the sign flashed out its warning in the words that it was forming, and the sign said, the words of the prophets are written on the subway walls and tenement halls and whispered in the sounds of silence.

-Simon And Garfunkel/The Sound Of Silence


First off, well, I finally did something I had been wanting to do for quite some time now. And that’s to take my journal writing ass out into the big field of the world wide web. Yeah, to my own website, my own domain. I’ve been using livejournal since like forever now and I still don’t intend to change that with cross posting. But from now on, I’ll be writing and posting directly to http://systom.org which I have set up with wordpress. This doesn’t change anything for anyone on livejournal that actually reads my shit, the same content will be automatically cross posted, comments won’t be disabled, you can still make ‘em and I’ll still comment on livejournal just the same. The world wide web switch is just a personal thing for me, and thankfully wordpress made it super easy to transfer my entire livejournal since the beginning and merged ‘em into my already set up site just about perfectly. A lot of work needs to be done with it on my personal end with SEO options and etc, but that’s really about it and the only real difference. I may throw up some ads onto my main site in due time when I get around to it.

In the mean time now that I’ve given myself some time to think about it with a sandwich, I just plain old haven’t been up to much at all. I mean shits going on, but it’s pretty much same old, same old type of things–not worth mentioning over and over again. Certainly not a bad thing at all though, I suppose. Workity work, things have changed over the course of some months. I was working with what I’ve been doing, now I’m not. It kinda just came to a halt and I’m dealing with it, been recently having a bit of a hard time dealing with them financials, but I’m making some moves to deal with just that while I try to rediscover myself and figure out what the fuck am I gonna do exactly. I mean, the idea’s there, I just gotta get to pushing it and doing it. I’m not super worried though, I mean, I guess I can’t be, this ‘American Dream’ of mine to end financial worry, to be financially free, it’s pretty silly. All I’ve ever known was the poor side of things, and because of this, you’d think I’d want something more and better, not super far from the truth at all–I really don’t want too much. Guess you could say I never really knew what money was, throughout everything and everyone I’ve ever been connected to for the most part, everyone’s poor, no one has anything, and that’s just the way it is. Then people wanna say that you can do whatever you want, you can change this, you can change that, like there are no rules to life and everyone plays fair and etc–what a crock of shit I say, I mean, someone’s gotta work at McDonalds, someone’s gotta clean shit up, someone’s gotta be a bum living on the streets and beaches. Maybe they deserve it and put themselves there, but a big fuck you for those who all they have ever done was try their hardest and regardless of just that, they still get the shit end of things. And that’s the truth, and that’s life. Everything’s about connections for the most part anyway, everyone should teach and preach that more to the oncoming generations; connections over education and skill.

C’MON. When he was a kid, he was the joker, low potential, straight mediocre, class clown, sneak off out the back door, long hair, leave a grease spot on the black bore. C’Mon honey, take off the bra, just tryin’ to hit a home run in your mom’s garage. He loved graffiti, it opened ‘em, creep down the alley with a can of rustoleum. Canvas that flat surface, then learn quick to control the nervousness. If it ain’t building, he burnt the bridge, and no, he don’t give a damn what the curfew is. Chased away all the saving grace while them old folks bitch about the way he’s raised. South side minne-atmosphere get you runnin’ from the cops just for practice here. But what do you know, he got older, trying to apply what childhood showed em’. Everybody left out in that cold to try to learn how to manage all the weight on his shoulders. We all want the easy life, just a piece of the pie that’ll keep us high, so turn it up ’til the speakers cry and don’t quit ’til you reach the sky, C’MON.
And as an adult, he took a good look, stayed away from the gangs and the crooks. And even though he came from the same neighborhood, so he fully understood that game textbook. Stay original, be individual, push the pedal and never settle for the typical. Feed your children, look out for your people, live and let live and each one teach those. Good luck and get a tight defense and I hope you can depend on your higher sense. Plant them seeds, let ‘em grow for the followers felons, the fallen soldiers. Hey rapper, we know it don’t stop, but don’t forget about the folks on your block. Hey dope man, what you doin’ with the cash crop, gettin’ fat, fuckin’ up fellow have-nots? Hey preacher, politician, is that the house you live in, hows the kitchen? Hey police man, don’t bother, even as a kid, I only played robbers and robbers. Hateful activists, aggressive pacifists, I ain’t saying that you gotta kill cops, just look at your life, check what it’s built off, C’MON.

-Atmosphere/C’MON

What next, what next. Tattooing of course. I was supposed to go into the shop to see Doug the man to get a piece going on the upper part of my neck, front to both sides being covered. Well, we had the idea down and I went in, but once we started trying to lay shit out on my neck, it just wasn’t working out the way we both thought it would. Things weren’t fitting properly and it was just more cluttered and also involving some dead space which we didn’t know how to deal with on the spot after thinking about it for a while. The idea was to use this cross type of pendant on the center of my throat and then being connected by a dual angel wing on one side and a dual demon wing on the other. Ultimately what we decided in the end was that we could still use the wings and redo ‘em to make it work but they would have to be pushed further back on my neck to look good and not be super cluttered with the script on my lower neck. I have an idea of using this shadow figured females demonic looking face to stamp on the center instead, Doug gave it the green light, but he’s out on a trip to Vegas so I have to wait and see and then we’ll probably work it out and get it poppin’. Besides working on that piece, the next piece up will be my full sleeve on my left arm which I have a good idea of what I already want to do, it’ll be one giant theme versus my right arms more chopped up theme. Will wait and see on that one when it comes around. www.dougtat2.com


The cross was to be in the middle and over both wings, going right down beneath where the green line runs at, but it just wasn’t workin’ with the way it looked from the sides.

I recall a movie night out with two gals, Tianna and Danii, Danii’s treat. my cousin Chucky couldn’t make it cuz he’s taking the dark side of things with fucking up in school and getting picked up for truancy and what not. Halloween 2, jesus that movie was fucking terrible in my opinion and that’s all I gotta say about that. Quit doing drugs(or if you’re not, get back on them) and or slacking Rob Zombie, get your shit together.


Unrelated to this day, but instead for some other day at an early dinner.

Bia bia bitch. Where to start with you. Bia’s a gal I’ve known for a little bit and have been talking to here and there from time to time, or well I should say, not so much talking going on there. She’s a kinda strange one and reminds me of myself in ways, or selves I more or so used to be, or as far as I think anyway. So it turns out she lives literally like 10 minutes away from me, so I figured why not just meet up for that fact to see what’s up. A day that works for both of us eventually comes up, we meet at a parking lot near by to chill for a bit and to say hello and etc. I don’t know why or what it is, but she’s way way tinier than I had imagined, or maybe it’s just cuz I’m fucking huge or something I don’t know, but yeah, just somethin’ I gathered over the first time meeting speculation type of thing. We’re both pretty odd in similar ways I wanna say, so we just chit chat about random or weird, or rather, not of the normal type of things. I recall calling her a fuckin’ bitch for something she said, not in an all too serious way of course, but still, haha. Then that was really it for that time.
(10-5-09)Some days later we met up again at the same spot, briefly chilled before going back to my place where all that magical demonic shit happens. So we’re chillin’ in the room, chit to the chatting once again just about whatever, kinda getting to know each other ways and what not. Believe it or not and I don’t know why, but I always get this nervousness feeling inside of me whilst meeting or getting to know someone new, but I don’t think I show that off too well since I’ve become a much better communicator over the years. Anyway, because of the things we’ve talked about and shared, I thought we were pretty compatible and understanding towards one another. I don’t know how to say this exactly or where this even fits, but I pretty much started touching her hair, her back, and even as far as to smacking and grabbing her ass–it’s not like she was stopping it or screaming rape or anything, haha. From what she told me, she wasn’t really in the mood for a fuckin’, so that’s the only thing that stopped me from completely ravaging her. She dug around into shit in my room, I guess it’s some sorta witch ritual thing that she does to everyone–reading this little semi-diary thing that more or so friends have written in and some old or random shit I worked on. This girl see’s my gat, I tell her it’s loaded, she picks it up and pulls the trigger–fuckin’ whack, I should have slapped her for that, haha, thankfully safety is safety, bitch. We chilled a bit more and chatted about more shit, I keep trying to pull shit out of this girls head since she’s so apathetic, or seemingly anyway, or the question questions game. We got on webcam for a bit since what the hell, not much else was going on, on stickam, went into a stickam chat that I frequent representing digitalgangster. We just fooled around on cam some, she was hiding at first but was more like whatever about it afterward where I molested her some more by groping her tits and hair and etc. In the chat everyone was cool about it for the most part, guys and girls, and of course a ton of random perverts private messaging to see or do more, haha, gotta love and hate stickam. Before partially revealing the type of underwear she was wearing to me, I walked her out, smacked her ass and told her I’d talk to her later.


She’s camera shy, hiding like I do, bitch!

I’ve drowned my conscience and cast another stone, I took to preaching while dancing on the coals.
I can’t see where I’ve been and only god knows where I’ll be, but there must be a place for a wretch like me.
Oh, lord knows I’m tired, but I, I, I won’t rest my head until I’m home.
And if my hands find themselves another body, well, you can’t blame them for trying to keep warm.
Morals are simply a matter of time and where you lay your head’s a question of pride.
But when it’s said and done, you’ll find it in the lines that privilege and wit make me misfortune’s child.
Can’t tell collapse that it needs to slow down, can’t tell death that it shouldn’t come around.
And when they take my head and put it on a stake, I know that guilt and disgrace keep the dead men awake.
Bartering your vigor for a paralyzing love, what have you done, what have you done?
I took the scaffold and laughed until I fell, girl, if you need me, grab another from the well.
I can’t imagine what hell might have in store, but I know if I’m there, I won’t wander anymore.
Oh, lord knows I’m weak, but I, I, I can’t clear my head if I’m asleep.
We’ve lived under this dark cloud forever, waiting for the bad luck to break.
Just let me try that one again with a little more feeling.
We slept at the crossroads together, trying to make an honest mistake.
Just let me try that one more time without a smile on my face.
Another road as empty as every promise is, if life is pointless, then point taken; Say amen.
So light another candle and put my body out to sea, because your heart is no place for a wretch like me.
Another stranger passing, a common dissonance, if life is pointless, then point taken; Say amen.
So light another candle and put my body out to sea, because your side is no place for a wretch like me.
When they unearth these passages, will I appear to be proud?
Not if you’re listening close enough, not if you’re sounding it out.

-Every Time I Die/Wanderlust

Tried to get her to come over the very next day, I guess I’d just like to know her a bit more to be more comfortable around her, but she ended up being busy. Guess we’ll see where this goes, if anywhere–she’s a cool gal though, so far anyway. Oh, and she’s an alien, her bodies bone structure has all sorts of weird joints, so I’m sticking with calling her an alien of some kind, probably wants to rape and drain me to save her home planet or some shit, I don’t know, haha.

Twiggy twigiggity twigster. How I’ve come to meeting twiggy without even knowing much about her at all is pretty random. I haven’t browsed through people on livejournal in years it seems, then the one day I did, found her on there, made some comments, we chit chatted back and forth some on there. Then she was posting elsewhere that she needed some help with recording something for a contest she’s in and has been hustling pretty damned hard. My knowing that she’s a newbie here in Hawaii, I didn’t think she knew much people, and this is pretty unlike me, but I shot her a message offering the help she needed with recording a vid of her for this contest. Since she’s super busy, we decided to meet somewhere that would be more convenient and what she wanted to do exactly–except things were running late on her end, she had a photo shoot to do which kept me waiting around for a bit and by the time she got done, the place that we were at was pretty much just about to close. Sooooo, we had to think on the spot on what the fuck to do exactly, which I’m like clueless about cuz I have no idea about that kinda shit much less the area. She said a coffee shop like Starbucks would be sufficient, and obviously took the risk of getting into my car without even knowing me much, haha, gotcha bitch! But no, so we drove down ward area and tried to go to a Starbucks there, terrible idea since it was fuckin’ filled with people. Didn’t wanna bother with the other one near by cuz I thought it would be worse–but when we decided to just go back to her place to shoot the vid, whilst passing it by, it was pretty small anyway. Surprisingly, I don’t talk too much, she does most of the talking. And double surprising, I don’t feel any type of nervousness at all, so weird. So we get there, and we do various takes to get it just right when she isn’t fucking it up(haha) or when it’s right for her liking all in one shot, just about 60 seconds, no more, some less. She had to test out and edit a bunch of shit right then and there on the spot as well. We talked a bit more, walked me outside to the car where she tried to offer me money for coming out and doing the favor–or even food and etc in the house actually, but I wasn’t hungry. Didn’t take her money either, figured it’s more useful to herself since she’s toughing it out here and keeping super fucking busy. Ended with a friendly hug where I stood there awkwardly not reciprocating it cuz that’s just the way I am. Haha, so I molested her hair some to show some sorta gesture in which she thought was a noogie sorta thing, yeah right, I was just reaching in for the goods! Haha. That was it, sent the vid to her later that night.
(10-6-09) Whilst waiting to see what was up with Bia if she wanted to chill or what, Twiggy hit me up with a text asking if I wanted to do a bunch of video clips to make another video for the same contest since she’s now a finalist. Dean Guitars. I agreed, met her later that day at her place and put Office 2007 on her dreadfully slow computer, my god I wanted to take that thing home and fix it up for a night, jesus, haha. While I did that, she got ready and chit chatted some and told her roomies who I was before they call the police on me for breaking and entering or some shit, haha. She got done, left the computer running and installing, we left. The plan was to try to make it to the beach for a beach clip, but it was too late and getting dark and the next destination was gonna close in a bit–guess you could say we were running a bit more late than expected. We did most of the clips there, same place where she had the photo shoot previously–she also got a free shirt and a discount on somethin’ she bought, dope shit for all the publicity and what not. While we were there, some bald dude approached us randomly and told us that we made a good couple, or was a good looking couple or some shit–I’m not even sure if she heard what the dude said, she was saying thanks and I was like; wow, awkward! Since it’s not even like that, haha. But thinking on it now, I guess out in public it’s what people would assume, we do sorta match in ways with looks I suppose. Anyway, Went back to her place to get the remaining clips where we fucked around some about her being real and recording her cooking rice, and of course ogling her boots and feet, mmm yeah baby that’s how I roll, haha. Wrapped up everything, didn’t wanna keep her too much longer since she hadn’t eaten anything all day and probably had shit to do, or if not that, get some fuckin’ sleep. Walked me out, talked more, this time instead of attempting the hug, she gave me a short jab and I said yeah, hitting me is all good, I love it when girls hit me. A lot of gals I tell goodbye, I tend to give them my perverted ass slap, the tom palm technique–of course since I barely even know her, I won’t do that, not just yet anyway, or if ever if she’s even comfortable with that, haha.


^She’ll probably wanna kill me for that one, snapped it when she was unaware and coughing, mmmm yeah, very hot, haha.
Here’s the first video I recorded of her for this contest;


Vote for her here;
http://www.deangirl.com/contestentry/show/369

It’s 3 am, sippin’ on a vault and chewing on pizza, getting these warez down, nerd life preacher, I’m the warez loader, pleased to meet ya. Who’s the buccaneer with the gangsta features, yeah thats me, there’s a nerd life creature, I’ll delete ya, comin’ to my internet disrespectin’, please, I’ll eat ya. Lawsuits I’m duckin’, check a distro; reduced to nothin’, torrent stuffin’, fake seeds up on these zds, them hives be buzzin’, attack and defend. Root a new box, smash that stack, bot that bitch double u c stat. Got encoders and loaders on that new Batman telesync ir chat. Softice ida loaded and moded, kernel noded, cracks I wroted, keygen, got a pen, take down this SN cuz the copy paste is frozen. Just a day in the life of a pirate, what you know about the hot new virus? Got a day just to kick some privates seedin’ that new miley cyrus. I’m a rapper, I steal music, got a server I abuse it. Some say I’m a Top Gun; drop some bombs on a track cuz I Tom Cruise it. SP, deftly, I’m a sick MC, got a crew in the news, Spamtec on attack on the mic, thats a wrap, so get up and cop that fools.
I am a pirate, I am a, I am a, I am a pirate, you walk the plank.
I am a pirate, I am a, I am a, I am a pirate, smoke and I drank.
I fixated on avoiding getting raided, getting faded, making pages, ages past, I grab en masse, get your warez and the hash, grab pipes and blast. Master Mason in the making, makin’ bacon, watch me go and hack, then fake em’. They dont have the means to make it happen, hack the box and keep’a rappin’. Versatile in rappin’, I’m the captain, man the mast and rap it fast, shoot the cannon, that’s the plan and I’ma hit the island, I’ma grab the stash. Pirate, I fire it, musket to socket, firewall set up on the bot to block it, little rudimentary, but it’s all in beta, see, so it ain’t even fair to knock it. Skills are honed, I’m boning out, if I ever catch a whiff of the FBI up on my hard drive, just press control alt shift; DoD wipe my disc, warez, movies, and anigifs, it’s clean, unanimous. RDPs that I’m spammin’ with, and my spammin’ lists burns up like cannibis. Sorry ’bout my ratio, yeah, I hate to go, but the feds never late to go. Always on time when it comes time to bust hackers and crackers on tracks, you know. Grab the scabbard, all that matters is we get away, yo ho ho and a bottle of rum and the pirates here to stay.
Smoke, drink, hack a computer, drink, smoke, first person shooter.

-YTCracker/I Am A Pirate

(10-7-09) Tsunami warnings? Give me a fucking break, went out to the North Shore side today for a quick beach and shaved ice day with Tianna. It was pretty nice out in your traditional manner, nice as in sunny, not very windy, water felt good and etc, shaved ice line wasn’t super ridiculous. Anyone who knows me, well, my definition of a nice day is during a hurricane or storm, or very dark cloudy and rainy, yeah!

What else, what else, oh, my gaming adventures have mostly come to an end. I mean, with Call of Duty and Battlefield, I haven’t played either in months. All I play nowadays is Marvel Vs Capcom 2 on XBL, I sometimes play with Wil as well, good times.


I probably won’t play anything else until November, Call Of Duty: Modern Warfare 2, game is gonna be fucking huge and off the hook.

Speaking of Wil, we also hung out one day and took one of those long drive’s back to the ghetto to eat some lunch cuz that’s just how we do, there ain’t no fucking replacing that delicious disgusting best food ever, haha. Went back to his place and chilled some hours and shit just chit chatting about shit as usual and some gaming shit. I made and set up a website for ‘em www.evileet.com for his own personal thang for if and when he feels the need to get started with that. Also taught him all the basics and etc of how all of it works, should be straight.
Also gotta give ‘em much love and thanks as a friend for helping me out big time, anything you need that I can handle, it’s done.

P.S. Fuck 1and1.com never do business with these douchebags and this is why;

Also, I entered some contest to win a free PSP Go by having to tag something with their URL name, I must’ve done the idea in like 10 minutes and I was one of the winners, too fucking easy, should be getting the PSP Go sometime this week. What did I do? Well I tagged Tianna’s ass, wam and bam, sex appeal always wins.


Also large onion rings rock even though I can’t stand onions in any other way;

I feel like dancing, I feel like dancing. I smell something in the air that’s making me high, I said I smell something in the air that’s making me high.

Ok here we go, do-re-mi-fa-so-la-di-da-so, lyrical Rosco, kick back the Tabasco. You motherfuckers must just not know the tic tac toe, time to show you the most kick ass flow in the cosmos. Picasso with a pick axe, a sick asshole, tic tac toe, frozen six pack with exacto knives. Strangling wives with thick lasso, big bags of the the grass, zig zags, I’m with the Doc, so you know how that go, skull and the crossbones. This is poison, the boys and girls who do not know, you do not want to try this at home my lil vato, this is neither the time nor the place to get macho. So crack a six pack, sit back with some nachos, maybe some popcorn and watch the show and just rock slow. It’s not what you expected, know what you thought, so, ’bout time that you wake the fuck up, smell the pot smoke.

It must be the ganja, it’s the marijuana that’s creeping up on me, why I’m so high.
Maybe it’s the henny that just gotten in me, whatever’s got into me, I don’t mind.

Your dreams of getting fulfilled, ohh, I’m literally getting the chills spitting at will, me and Dre have just finished splitting a pill. You’re submitting to skill, sitting still, I’m admitting I’m beginning to feel like I don’t think anyone’s real. Faced with a dilemma, I can be Dali Llama and become a bin gramma, a step beyond the Jeffrey Dahmer. Please don’t upset me mama, you lookin’ sexy mama, don’t know if this the lala or the rum and Pepsi, mama. Don’t wanna end up inside my refrigerator freezer, be used as extra topping the next time I make a pizza. How many people you know who can name every serial killer who ever existed in a row, put ‘em in chronological order beginning with Jack The Ripper, name the time and place from the body, the bag, the zipper. Location of the woods where the body was dragged and then dumped, the trunk that they were stuffed in, the model, the make, the plate, and which model, which lake they found her in, how they attacked the victim. Say which murder weapon was used to do what and which one, which knife and which gun, what kid, what wife, and which nun. Don’t stop, I like this, it’s fun, the fuckin’ night’s just begun.

When I’m behind a mic, dynamite is what it’s kinda like–get stuck with that same stick that you’re trying to light. Behind the boards, it’s Dre, legends are made this way. Isn’t it safe to say this is the way it should be? Maybe you need some lyric syrup serum for your symptoms, here’s a dosage of thee antidote, now you give him some, he can give her some, she can give him some, get behind a lynn drum, make up a beat and kill the sucka syndrome. The spinning drum, when it comes to lyrics and penance some, starting from scratch and then ending up at the ending of capable of winning a bullet to a so unbelievable bullet to a titanium cranium that’s full of surprises when the smoke rises right before your very own eyes, you stare into your stereos eyes. Good evening, this isn’t even a weed thing, I ain’t even smoke anything, I ain’t even drinking.

-Eminem/Must Be The Ganja



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