“Best/Most {F}ucked Up Criminal Activity Post” Technically, this isn’t DimpinD’s most popular post; however, out of all the confessions this site has hosted, stealing deli meat has got to be one of the best. Certainly, it’s my favorite. Genoa Delinquency* It all began in the morning; having counted on a cheap weekend in the Valley, Genevieve […]
regarding Wikileaks, this is more true than ever. This is the begining of a new type of warfare, the Internet is now our battlefield. Information is taking over, and as we all can see, within our government, and around the globe, Bricks are being shat. Kinda Makes you wonder what they have to hide…
…there is that moment, when you hear a certain song, it transports you to a place in time. A place where you can smell, taste hear and almost touch the memories attached to it…
These people have a notion that you can take a desperate person, down on their luck, and asking, pleading for help, and by the word of GOD reform them by working them in a slave like way to learn humility, and responsibility. The only responsibility being demonstrated there was the lining of the SA’s pockets. You cannot change Wolves into Sheep. Not without getting bitten. It’s time we started biting back.
Welcome to 10th grade English class and the horrible, corpse like breath of Mrs. Scagnelli. I couldn’t make up a better name for her.
So its mid August, the days are warm and humid, nightime is often as bad, and its BBQ season… So here at the Island of Misfit Toys, we thought it would be fun to have a celebratory end of summer (and an Era) Bash. This was all decided in June… and let me tell you… […]
It occured to me tonight, while in this haze of pot smoke, Thai BBQ Pork, and laughs with friends that I wait until the last possible moment to do EVERYTHING, despite my own coaxing, and constant mental reminders, so it’s not a matter of not remembering I have to do things. Simply put, I choose not to hear it. This attitude may be damaging, and may also be the very key to why I can enjoy life even when at its most harsh and extreme.
Houses of worship are fascinating. Regardless of size, they always have a touch of shrine-like magnificence and the energy is thick and heavy. I remember going to church with my Roman Catholic grandparents every other weekend when I was growing up. Even after the lingering “Jesus is ALWAYS watching” guilt faded from my religious and Portuguese upbringing, I still enjoyed the meditative moments that seemed to happen in the massive, decorated church we all attended.
Finding themselves awake and eager to see some sights, to just have a chance to absorb the relaxed, and overall less-intense mood that infects everyone who visit, they window shop casually, and take a nice cruise down the scenic highway. Both Genevieve and Seamus comment on their lack of nourishment. The glazed cruller from the morning had long since worn off, and their digestive systems were letting them know.” Let’s go to the market and grab some stuff for dinner,” says Genevieve. Seamus heads towards the retail area wondering how they’ll pay.
The line of cars behind us stretches along the roadway like a disjointed, lumpy and shining, multicolored serpent, as far as we can see. Is anyone aware that this day will have lifelong repercussions and consequences? The sights, sounds, and smells are beginning to develop around us. Teens listening to music at an obscene volume, getting pumped for the day, older hippie types, just relaxing in the early morning sun, small groups of people milling about, drinking coffee, soda, beer, and multitudes of mixed offerings, games of frisbee, and hacky sack are springing up. Its a really nice morning. There is an electricity in the air unlike anything I have felt.