pitas


but feeling damn good!!

my site:
nothend

ICQ:
22702916

e-mail:
jwp
evolve

them:
damn the muse
just another story
learn to swim
still breathing
technorgami
trinity kneels

websites:
evolve
neverland
orange lipstick
when angels weep

past crap:
12.29 - 1.5
1.5 - 1.7
1.8 - 1.15


Friday, January 19, 2001 10:26 a.m.

I was going to list the song lyrics of this song my Aimee Mann, soundtrack to Magnolia, but just as I was writing the words to one song the next would come on and I wanted to write those. Then I figured, ahh hell this entire soundtrack is just what I am feeling. So, rent that movie or pull out your cd and put it on, because that's what I'm listening to and that's the mood I'm in.

so many things I have typed in this space, and highlighted and started over. So, I just found out... someone slap me or tell me different. (Someone who actually bought records, someone who knows who supertramp is and remembers watching Soap from the hallways, when their parents made them go to bed. There has to be someone out there that remembers tv shows like The Greatest American Hero and Welcome Back Kotter. When the most famous one on that show was Gabe Kaplan, and no one even knew who John Travolta was)...that aimee mann, is the same chick from the group Til Tuesday. Is that right?

No offense to those of you who I talk to on a regular basis, I know you werent all embryo's when I am talking about the things I am talking about. It just feels that way sometimes, just getting closer to the age birthday, which is making me 4 years closer to an age when I shouldn't still be helping my parents and I should be helping myself. To an age when I should be anywhere but here.

Talk about changing yourself. Hey, this is what you get when I didnt know what to talk about. See you all tonight. And, I promise on a friday, I should have a shit load of stuff to complain about.


Wednesday, January 17, 2001 07:34 p.m.

Like an idiot, I volunteered to make dinner tonight. It was something easy like white trash cheezy hamburger helper. So, my faggy intellect said, whoa... too much, gotta make this different. So, there I was slaving over a hot stove, when it dawned on me. Make it like the fabu irish nachos, which is just an easy makeover of white trash hash browns. I tossed on some sour cream and some salsa, and voila...

Yep, it was hamburger helper with sour cream and salsa. Oh, and I made this huge salad, with radishes, carrots and celery... so, healthy I be.

I fucked up bad today, said something and now I think I am paying the price. I'm sorry. That's all I can say, I didn't know what I said was wrong. Please, I feel like a child grovelling, but please forgive me.

And, I haven't really been happy today, even though I have been reading some erotica, and got a story accepted, it's just not been the same kind of day. Sorry, this isn't all that funny... somedays I just gotta be the fat boring guy I am.


Wednesday, January 17, 2001 05:01 p.m.

i'm sorry i didn't know.


Wednesday, January 17, 2001 01:05 p.m.

I'm gonna be published. Something I, Joe Petty, wrote is going to be in a magazine. And, I really dont care that it's in a magazine called Bound and Gagged, I don't know if it will be in there under my name, hell, I don't even know if I'll get paid. I just know that an editor said: "I like your writing style---it's lively and intelligent, so rare these days..." And, that they were going to use the piece.

I'm talking to the only two people online, I called my job and told them... when they asked the name of the magazine, I blushed, dug my toes into the carpet and said the name. All I could do was laugh. I mean... Hello... I suppose, this means I have to accept that I am a good writer.

Ahh, Fuck... someone pinch me.. pinch me hard, because I can't believe it's happening.


Wednesday, January 17, 2001 12:44 a.m.

God, I love that part in this book, and can you believe it's only the 2nd paragraph? I had to buy it tonight, because well, I was getting a stiffy... and since the night had been hell... I felt I deserved some smut.

Today began a week of mid-shift hell. It would be nice if I went to work and didnt have to answer the inane questions of the morons who come to my store. But, that would be a dream.

oh, wait... just gotta talk about this. Have any of you seen the hot new M&M commercial? Damn, it's got the crispy M&M in the middle and he's talking, saying I dont know why everyone likes me so much... and the peanut M&M licks him, he looks at the peanut m&m and then the plain M&M licks him, he turns and looks at him... then the peanut dude goes to lick him again, and he grabs his tongue. and you hear swrry... oh, man... ok, perhaps Im the only one who gets sexual gratification from an M&M commercial.... and now, I take you back to my hellish existence at Barnes & Noble, store 2650 in West Covina, California.

So, the day started out semi-peacefully... I was doing my favorite thing, kneeling... erm, shelving... yeah that's it. Then, I go into receiving and my co-workers show me this book... a book mind you that I have been talking about doing... called Overheard at the bookstore. I was all... fuck... but they were laughing, when I said, oh... I wanted to write this. Because, it was basically crap. Stupid things said, and pictures that went with the sayings. So, perhaps I can write it after all. Now, my day is filled with... that shit gets published, and I can't even get my story to Bound and Gagged.

Lunch was nice... a full meal, read about the mythic journey of Charlie Buckett from Willy Wonka. And, an essay on sin or something by Depak Chopra. Then, I get back to working and damn if all the loud people didn't show up. And decide to stand in my section of the store. The next row had this, and I'll probably offend some of you, sorry... ok, so this foreign person speaking their language loudly. I have very little toleration for people speaking a language I don't know. And, it wasn't spanish, french or german. It was a loud language that scratched at the back of my brain. I found out later that she wasn't even talking to the chick she was with, she was on a fucking cell phone. (Sorry, but in California... apparently you are "COOL" if you have a cell phone. But, why sit in the middle of the aisle at Barnes and Noble and talk on the fuckin phone, and ignore the person you are in the said aisle with? ok, phone rant over with)

Now in the next aisle was a gaggle of high school kids, who decided to fuck up the music biography section, looking for Tupac's great poetry book or some other piece of shit. (I'm not a fan of tupac or Jewel...sorry.. her book of poetry is shit too... her songs may be nice, but damn that girl can't write worth crap.)Anyway, these kids, who are obviously waiting for the next movie to start, our store is across the street from an Edwards 18 Theater. And, they are in competition with the woman sprawled in the "S" row. They are winning, because there are more of them. But, the shriek that broke my mind?

The child screaming bloody murder, because her mother was dragging her away from the storytime going on at the back of the store. I mean, this child was shrieking, it was howling, it was choking on it's own phlegm. You couldn't understand a word it uttered, and the mother just stood there ignoring it. I am not being rude calling it, it... because it was a feral animal ululating(it is a word, and I have so wanted to find a place to use it.)

I just was there... surrounded by this loudness, I mean we arent a library, but damn... it's a place of business, and there were more people sprawled in the rows doing homework or sitting on the stacks of books in the bargain section reading books, or leaning against the shelves with their coffee's balanced precariously on the top of a face-out of books. I realize as I rise from my perfect, slave kneeling position, I HATE PEOPLE!

I walk to the breakroom, find my ultimate favorite horny manager, this daddy type guy, who just makes me laugh. Does for me, what I suppose these do for you guys. And, shout... "WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON? WHO THE FUCK ARE THESE PEOPLE? I'm going on my break."

I get my coffee, sit in the breakroom, read the manager the passage from below, talk about the picture on the cover of the book. He does a drawing of a couple women's crotches and asks which type I like better... :::laughs::: And, I go back to my kneeling, peaceful and calm. The cell phone bitch has moved on, the kids are gone... and it's no where around. The store has gone to silence, 10 mins before I have to go home.

And, that... gang... was my hellacious experience at barnes and noble. Thank Mike, I have today off. A dentist appt, hopefully not painful... I can take pain, 7lb balls baby, but touch my teeth the wrong way... ohunhunh...

okies... babble with ya tomorrow.


Tuesday, January 16, 2001 11:36 p.m.

hey gang... apparently, I have a few people who love to read these, and before I get into the hell that I endured at my job today...It feels as though today was the official workay of hell for everyone...I have to tell you about this great book I bought today. Oh, and I believe that we should all begin our days with a little smut. That's always when I end up looking at my smut email.

This is me seducing you to read 52 weeks of erotica

I had never seen anything like this before. A man, big and muscular, a beautiful man, on all fours on top of a table, his bottom raised, his thighs set apart, waiting. Defenceless, cringing like an abandoned dog, a pleading, trembling little animal, eager to please at all costs. A battered dog, hiding it's face, not a woman.

I had seen dozens of women in that same posture. Including myself, a few times.

It was then that I wished for the first time to be there,on the other side of the screen, to touch him, examine him, force him to lift his head, and to look him in the eyes, to wipe his chin and smear him with his own saliva. I wished then I had a pair of those horrible patent platform shoes like the cheapest tarts wear, hideous, unwearable stilts, so I could teeter precariously on their stiletto heels - they're such vulgar weapons - and move slowly towards him, and use one of them to penetrate him, and wound him and make him scream, and enjoy it, to pull him off the table and go on pushing, tearing, sinking into his immaculate flesh, so disturbing and so new to me.

So, that was from a book called The Ages of Lulu and probably will not be in the 52 weeks until like marchish... I'm trying to start off with the tame erotica, and work up to the harsh hurt yourself from just reading smut.

Oh, and now... in the next entry... I am gonna really babble.