Wednesday, May 31, 2006
my heads burning as things do when they are on fire. its hard finding metaphors right now. at least ive been given 3 days leave from my shithole in tekong. theres some virus going around and dozens of people have already got it. fever is up to 39.2 which means its almost good enough to make toast on. well not quite but close maybe.
so i thought maybe i'd go into friendster and look at some hot babes to cheer myself up. turns out i clicked on a random bulletin message and i got one of these. "Sorry, but because u opened this you will die in 3 days. sorry. the only way you can reverse this is by reposting it within 5 minutes. good luck By opening this chainmail u have been given bad luck for 2 months. If u repost this message then the bad luck will turn good." so i guess i'll die in 3 days, most likely of high fever or maybe an overdose of sprite. and my corpe will suffer from another 2 months bad luck, which means my family probably wont be able to afford a coffin or it will be sold to medical research where i shall be cut up for experiments which are normally conducted on lab rats. now would you rather die in 3 days or would you repost it and be a total bastard to the next person. i mean freakin hell how selfish! daaaym.. now enjoy this clip. and laugh ur freakin arse off...
James Barr at 7:30 AM
Saturday, May 27, 2006
the O in emo stands for octagonal shapes filling my head as i spin 180 on the concrete. it stands for the orange street lighting which bounces off grey concrete buildings and fills empty hotel rooms through the gaps in the curtains. it stands for the opening between your lips where you breathe lightly/softly and the wind whistles as it passes through the spaces in your teeth. it stands for old times documented in photograph albums or written down on a piece of scrap paper, already turning yellow from age. it stands for oatmeal, orang utans and olives.
James Barr at 11:59 PM
Saturday, May 20, 2006
louder. come on scream louder. shout till you feel your throat cramming up. because your favourite band is only playing tonight, and you wanna let them know your a thread in their shirt or a pore in their skin. a sweat drop from the lead singer hurls itself off his chin and it flies through the air. its like being in a swirling hurricane of limbs and bodies exchanging energy as they collide. its like currents in water taking you from one side of the room to the other. your part of something tonight. your part of the hurricane. part of the current. your part of the energy and it makes you feel alive. you've lost your left shoe but somehow its all part of the fun...
James Barr at 5:36 AM
Saturday, May 13, 2006
James Barr at 1:29 PM
Thursday, May 11, 2006
so... its been 5 weeks of yes sirs, right away segeants and doing random punishments like touching fire extinguishers and doing chicken backsides, which kills your knees trust me. 5 weeks of waking up at 5 in the morning, dressing in green clothes and singing songs which label you as an instant patriot. 5 weeks of bald boredom, running around tracks and smelling like the opposite of fresh flowers. 5 weeks of marching in threes, walking countless kilometres with full battle order and sleeping in self dug gravelike ditches. 5 weeks of being a rankless recruit, the end of the food chain of army personnel, a maggot, a spec of dirt among hundreds of other just as significant specs. 5 weeks of seeing dicks all the time and topless males of all sizes and shapes. 5 weeks... 5 weeks. 5 weeks of dicks... dicks.... oh god... please no more dicks.
its also been 5 weeks since i did a decent entry on this totally useless page on the internet which serves no purpose but to fill my time with something to do and for you to do too. its true. army makes you a man. why? because men are horny. and the army makes you horny. suddenly maxim becomes like gold. women who you thought could chase away camels just by making eye contact are now like goddesses with silver crowns and a bunch of grapes in her left hand while a cup of red wine in the other. with a pair of eunachs fanning her with peacock feathers. then you reach mainland and your like. oh shit is that a girl? shiiiiit. w0000t... please no more dicks. but enough about army already. im sick of talking about army. army army army... eat breathe sleep army. lets talk about clubs. i was walking around near mos tonight with my friend ( yes hes from army but shit it doesnt count as talking about army stuff) (dammit). for the record no i dont like to club because a) i dont like RnB b) i dont like grinding against people i cant see c) im scared of the tall handsome dudes who look at you like your fish bait. but anyway there are alot of people who do like to club and thats cool. so anyway, i saw all these sports cars man. fuck like ferraris, lamborgines and a car with doors that fold upwards. and their so cool. but the strange part to the whole thing is the driver is always a fat and smelly looking man. they are all old and looking for young meat to bang. why is this happening?? is this the only way old people can get laid? but i have to say it seems to work. because they always emerge from the club with a fine chick or two who probably dont know what a ferrari is, but they sure think red is a nice colour for a sports car. this is just wrong. cars are meant to transport people. not for getting old people laid. the whole universal balance of sports cars is changing and we need to change this. happy vesak day everybody. anyway on to more pressing issues such as what are the thoughts of a dying atheist? like shit am i going to be reincarnated as a dung beetle. that would really be bad luck man. unless your spirit is one that kinda has a soft spot for shit ( excluding your intestines). y'know i think heaven will be a nice place. like some kind of multi storey carpark for spirits with a water cooler on each floor that spurts out champange. maybe in heaven there are like flat screen televisions which display like what new movies are coming out back on earth so you dont miss anything while your gone. i wonder what hell would be like then. i guess it would be like a multi storey carpark, but on fire and really cramped up. with water coolers that spurt tar as refreshments. or maybe liquid petroleum. and they probably have the really crappy tv's that flicker all the time and show all the crap movies like pearl harbour and anything with no sex scenes. or maybe they just play britney spears and A1 hits over the radio over and over again. and if you think thats not so bad, then you really deserve to be in hell. shit im going to end here because lack of sleep is making me slightly dillusional and im starting to hear voices in my head. wait a minute thats just music. or is it..?
James Barr at 1:30 PM
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your lipstick, his collar
Sorrow drips into your heart through a pinhole i am james, you are stranger.. lets make love. 13/f/sg millionsopeaches@hotmail Just like a faucet that leaks and there is comfort in the sound But while you debate half empty or half full, Website Counters It slowly rises, your love is gonna drown Archives
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