Wednesday, April 16, 2003

1:38 PM

Inhuman interaction, in a dehumanizing environment.

I was checking my emails today and realized that it has been a long time since I got an email from a person. I know I talked about emails before, but this is a new wrinkle on an old problem.
The computer electronic mail I receive is no longer even sent by human hands; rather it is automated responses sent to my email address at random. This means that I have completely cut myself off from the human world. I am out of the human interaction sphere so much that human beings no longer email me, only my machine friends. Sometimes, it is computers I know. Such as the vast underground complex that runs the DigiFox Message Boards. Deep within the recesses of an abandoned salt factory, the DigiFox Main frame (complete with creepy voice computer hologram) sends me constant updates on all things Fox. This I don’t mind at all, the Foxivania Computer network and me go way back and I welcome it into my home willingly.
But then there is crap like:

Hot Russian Women looking for Western Men!!!
They are waiting to hear from people like you!!!
Submit your profile and get ready to hear from Hot Russian Women!!!
Check out 1000’s of pictures on our website!!!

Oh really? Hot Russian Women are looking for me? From Russia you say? And they use an iridous amount of explanation points to make sure you know they are excited? Number one, if you are so desperate to get out of your country you go to a website that whores you out to the world, for a fee, that is not supposed to be prostitution, but yet it is, this means you kinda naïve or really just a big slut puppy. Either or, I am not interested in you, or learning Russian to talk to a woman. And believe it or not, being able to carry on a thoughtful conversation with a female person is something I find really attractive. Its really important to me to be able to talk to and understand the person that I am with, even if they are Hot, and Russian, and a Woman, and wants to hear from a person like me. Wait, how does she know what a person like me is about? Unless she reads this website, she really wouldn’t have a freaking clue who I am, much less if she is looking for a guy like me. No I don’t want to submit my profile, especially if I have to live up to this preconceived notion of who I am, that I don’t have in front of me to compare to how I truly is. You don’t know anything about me, yet you want to hear from me? That just creeps me out and makes me feel…dirty. Ah you have pictures! That makes it all worthwhile. I get to see pictures of women that I would never actually get to talk to, thanks a bunch! ::puts shot gun mouth, Hemmingway style::

Or this one, a little longer so my comments will be in [ ] after the text I am making fun of.

hi there = )

[ points off for not using my name in the greeting and putting a cute face in its place]

My name is Jennifer.
[Oh, I trust everyone with that name, its an honest name]

I found your profile with the member directory.. you live right near me!!

[Shit, it says something like “Spam Samwitch” for my location, she must live near the giant one they put in off the Beltline!]

I'm 18 years old.. long brown hair, blue eyes, petite body but I have nice tits.. hehe.

[I admire your candor, but getting to know about your breast size is something that comes later in the relationship, like when you know my name or something, oh and I think you’re a guy, cause this is how guys think girls talk. Most women I know, say their eyes or smile would be their best feature, breasts could be, but rarely do they mention them.]

Anyhow, I have a live webcam going right now (Im on it all night and most of the day)

[ How do you eat? I really don’t want to see a live streaming feed of you eating a cup of Ramen Noodles. Do you have a job man/woman? How do you poop or sleep when your on cam 24/7 or almost all 24/7?]

, along with a lot of my friends. We do some crazy stuff sometimes.. hehe. Cum watch us, it’s free, as long as you're 18.

[What you and your friends do, is between your friends, and you. Not me, you guys want to be all crazy and have sex with sheep? You do that hun. Oh and the cum instead of come is just plan retarded. First off, you don’t know me well enough for you to know my masturbatory habits. Nor do I feel we will get close enough to share these interesting bits and bobs about ourselves. Even though I am over 18 and I do like free stuff, I am going to pass on the coming to watch the crazyness.]

If you like what you see you can get in touch with me, and maybe we can meet sometime.

[ Ah, that’s mean. Offer a starving man a bone. Assuming that I would be the women crazed mental patient that would answer something like this, let alone believe it, this would be a set up for danger on both sides. Number one. I could be someone you would not want to meet on account of I could turn out to be a genuine freak with a desire for human flesh and or a sex slave. Or this 18 year old “girl” could actually be a rare female serial killer that only goes after stupid, lonely guys]

Anyway, to see me and my friends get naked and crazy with each other.
[ Ah isn’t trying out lesbianism fun, and profitable??!!!?? Ultra Trendy girl!]
'm the one with the red flowery bikini on.. if you like the pics, click through and see me on my webcam. I promise I'll make it worth your while. =)
[ You don’t even know my name and you just offered me something to make it worth my while. Umm free candy? YOU HAVE FREE CANDY AND A GAME BOY ADVANCED! I love you my newfound friend in a red flowery bikini!!]

[ WTF? You said, right here in this letter, that your name was Jennifer. Now you say your name is Jessica? Unless you are Siamese twins and one of you started the letter and the other one finished it, you’re running some sorta scam here. I thought we were friends. I thought that we shared something special over the Internet that could not be replicated with a real live flesh and blood person. Now I find that I didn’t even know you. That you to are merely after me for my roguish good looks and crappy 6 buck an hour income. For SHAME Jessica, Jennifer, whoever you are. FOR SHAME! Oh and you can send the Game Boy Advance to me whenever, I will be looking for it. Just put “Lou Sucks Central” on the box, steal a stamp and mail it to me.]

Stay turned for tomorrow’s entry: What I need to do to make sure New York does not kill me.

Tuesday, April 15, 2003

9:35 PM

Brought to you by a loan from Insomnia

The word of the day is:
Identity Crisis

Who the hell do you think I am?

I sure don’t know. I just want to go up to everyone I have ever met and get their general impression of me. I know I would get the occasional “I don’t really know yous” and the “Get the fuck out of my house before I call the cops”. But other than that, what?
I have not really done anything that would warrant it being put under my name on the Live at 5 news.
In this ever increasing media culture, that’s what defines you as a human being. It all comes down to what a new program can put in a caption below your name.

Matthew LuAllen
-is kinda weird and funny and has this stupid website-

Nah not enough, pop, zap, or fizz

Matthew LuAllen
-student, crappy cashier-

or maybe

Matthew LuAllen
-saw old lady get hit with cucumber-

If only I had seen a senior getting beaten with produce, THEN my life could have purpose, meaning, and the most important development: it would impress the ladies. Yeah, you have something super cool under your name on the news, members of the opposite sex just know it. Your walk, it turns into a confident strut. You gain powers much like the Happy Days character Fonzie, and can snap things into and out of existence. Just like Q on Star Trek.
I bet Q and Fonzie were related, Q had an affair on Earth in the 1950’s and it resulted in a teen with and enhanced cool factor, directly linked to snapping fingers and his thumbs.
-writes this down for further research-
My point being, if you are successful, you can shorten your life accomplishments into something small. Not successful? You are identified by whatever crime you witnessed or committed. I am not easily definable. But like the ever-allusive wilder beast, I am a being apart. To borrow a term from Howard the Duck, I am trapped in a world I did not make. Which is kinda silly, cause unless your some sorta deity, you didn’t make the world anyway. And if you was a deity and your reading my website, what kinda deity would you be?
The cheap kind? That does not pay someone for staying up into the wee hours of the morning writing an update when he really should be asleep and dreaming of Alyson Hanigan?
Anyway, if you have any kinda world changing powers and you read my stuff, I should at least get some cool things out of it. Like maybe a under water moon base. Cause everyone knows the moon has water.
What was I talking about again?
Oh yeah, how do you define me in your noggin. Cause I really need to know in order to sleep at night without waking up in a cold sweat and screaming about parents that never really saw me as anything but a giant disappointment.

A Few suggestions for your consideration.

-mostly harmless
- Tries really hard
- Does not run with scissors
- Cooks rather well for a man that never took a lesson in his life
- Sometimes does sound effects and voices, like a person that does…sound effects and voices.
- Knows an impossible amount of things about comic books. Like scary no life amounts.
- Can hide in a crowd well
- Its scared by loud noises
- Sometimes likes to break into song and dance for no good reason.
- Thinks that cats are awesome.
- Has girl like finger nails most of the time.
- Likes that this freaks his parents out

I think this definition thing is hard. Way to hard for me to figure out.
Everyone is defined by their life experiences, things that happened to them and them alone and how it changed the makeup of their brain meats into who they are.
I can be funny or whiney or weird or cool or stupid. Depending on who is around me. Or what mood I am in.
I want to be someone, yet I don’t want to appear on MTV cribs. I want to get paid to write like an idiot and sometimes not, and write my fiction stuff.
I am no one special, yet I am something different.
I am bigger than a breadbox, and I can’t fit into an overhead compartment.
I believe in something more powerful than myself, but I don’t think that it has to be an organized religion. I think there is truth everywhere, in all religions that are not about hate.

Yeah, so that’s stupid.

I sucks.

Sunday, April 13, 2003

8:42 AM

Stupid freaking weekend class
stupid freaking leaving me out friends
stupid freaking self for not knowing when to shut up and not make an ass out of myself
stupid freaking me not knowing how to ask out the womens.


More later today

my thoughts and rants