My mind is building a tolerance for quizzes. I don't get the satisfaction from the usual, once-in-a-while quiz. I need to take them, constantly, despite how inaccurate they are or how much I lie!!

Take the What High School
Stereotype Are You?
quiz, by Angel.

I couldn't describe myself any better.
... I need to get my life some writers. sigh.
Oh glee! I get to cross-examine this girl I really hate in the mock trial! She's going dooooown!
I've got my inspiration back after that sudden mood swing. I've achieved many things.

First, I read this interview. It was very funny. And I quote it:

JhnenV: After Sep. 11, we're the most heinous show on TV apparently.
JhnenV: that's why there are no new episodes airing. The schedule's been so devastated since we have to address so many changes.
ShaneIvey: The blood all over GIR and all that? It's horrid. Good thing they don't have live-action shows about kids being terrified in some kind of Nightmare Room... Oh, wait...
JhnenV: hee...
JhnenV: I think that's called Barney.

Second, I forced and preached Jhonen Vasquez upon a few friends. I've only successfully converted one person to idolize him. It's still progress. Sirose is valiantly trying to force it upon her real life friends. I don't have any good real life friends to force it on, so I'm not gunna try. Matt's the kid I converted, by the way.

+20:57:47+ (Xloknor) "Kick them groins."
+20:57:50+ (Xloknor) The man's a genius.
+20:57:57+ (MaryJane) His last words.
+20:58:00+ (MaryJane) Yes, he is.
+20:58:01+ (Xloknor) Seriously. He's my new idol now.

Yes, indeed. The world will be Vasquez-ized. I shall be in the lead, bringing the hellfans to great justice. All your Jhonen are belong to us.

Or something like that.
I give up. There's too much competition. Whenever I think I've found my indivisualism, I haven't. grrr, argh.
TEE-HEE. Another quiz.

You don't go around expressing your opinions to others,
and it's not like they mind it either. It doesn't matter to
you though. Who needs them. You've got your red pearls.
Oh shit, that blond-haired chick went and glued them to a
piece of cardboard that is supposed to eventually be your
"album cover". Aww man, what's next? Are you gonna have
to play her instrument too?
Which Smashing Pumpkins album are you?
And we don't know just where our bones will rest. To dust, I guess.

I'm having a hard time figuring out what I am. I'd like to classify myself as a "freak geek" but I'm not sure. You'll always have the cynics, telling you to be nothing, thinking you're just trying to be someone else. I'm guilty of doing that to people. It wasn't an attack on their appearance, no, I'd never even met or seen pictures of her. She just had the personality of a pure wanna-be loser; unoriginal and copying everything everyone else did. I'm sorry if I caused her pain or something.

I believe in never. I believe in all the way.

Well, I can't translate music into words. So I'm just gunna sit back and listen to my smashing pumpkins without distraction or worry.

I'll be your stumbleine, I'll be your superqueen, and make you me.
Do you realize what skill is needed to balance a GIR plush atop your monitor? DO YOU REALIZE?!

I've got a few new things that I drew last night at the same time it is now. They're in the art section, 2002. onetwentytwoam.JPG and emptyspace.JPG. No, I'm not so lazy that I won't link them here; geoshitties won't allow me to allow them outside their own damn site. 1:22 AM is of Johnny. I drew everything with pen on brightly colored paper, give me a godforsaken break.

The empty space was a silly remake I did of a conversation I had with a friend, posted previously on here. I was experimenting with drawing myself as far away from realistic as I could. As ugly as I could, I suppose. I'm moving farther and farther away from reality. I'm the one with thick eyebrows, hah.

I need to sleep. Farewell, goodnight, don't forget to turn off the lights.


+22:28:31+ (Spooky) You know, my favorite part of spiderman was when he passed out.
+22:28:41+ (Spooky) From the gas. The goblin said "Sleep.. sleep."
+22:28:46+ (Esoris) Heh
+22:28:49+ (Esoris) Bwahahaha
+22:28:50+ (Spooky) I don't know why, but that was so cool.
+22:28:56+ (Spooky) And he was like, "nnngh..."
+22:29:11+ (Spooky) And then he starts falling slowly down.. and then goblin takes him and carries him away..
+22:29:19+ (Spooky) It sends shivers down me. Not unpleasant shivers. Shivers of who the hell knows...
+22:29:36+ (Spooky) I'm so sadistic :x
+22:29:39+ (Esoris) Bwahaha, the "shut up when mommy and daddy are talking" part
+22:29:47+ (Spooky) That too.
+22:29:51+ (Spooky) It's just after that.
+22:29:51+ (Esoris) He's the mommy on the honeymoon
+20:59:32+ (Spooky) Art makes me mad.
+20:59:35+ (Spooky) People don't get it.
+21:00:09+ (Spooky) They think anything that happens to look good or whatever is art. Wow, you can draw a whore with giant eyes and a little butt, you're so talented...
+21:01:00+ (Esoris) Heh
+21:01:16+ (Esoris) "Art doesn't have to be beautiful...IT HAS TO BE MEANINGFUL!'

Sirose, you're so wise.

So, are you an artist or not? Read this article and realize what a sinner you are. Unoriginality and conformity are of the biggest problems I've seen in America. And you know what? It pisses me off.

I've been trying to get myself to make meaningful drawings lately. It's usually the title of the picture that twists around the meaning. I really liked a somewhat recent picture I drew of an android (http://www.geocities.com/sweetelegy/telltale/2002/deathbecomesher.JPG) where's she sitting on a swing, with a mechanical butterfly fluttering by. Her arm is a gun. She's so happy and she's a killing machine. Everything is artificial. Her happiness is artificial.

However, I did used to draw things for the heck of looking good. Anything that was eyecandy would make people happy, I thought. I used to enjoy looking at (anime, usually) art sites that were completely made of fanart. I became a little bored, I must say. I rarely drew fanart, so it made me uncomfortable to see so many sites with just plain fanart. I thought I should make fanart too, but I wasn't passionate about the things I drew (except Trigun, that one rocks..) I also got angry at the fact that other artists my age would put a little message by their profile in parentheses: "Yes, I'm really fourteen! I really drew all this! I'm so freaking talented! I can't get enough of myself! I COPY PICTURES DONE BY OTHER ARTISTS BECAUSE I CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING ELSE TO DRAW. At least I can copy good. I copy reeeeaaal good. Maybe I'll work at Kinko's some day."

I hated that.

Eyecandy art is just made to look good. To please the audience. They don't care about anything profound, in fact, they themselves are, gah! so shallow! I'm sorry. I realize there are a lot of artists who draw for the plainess of making things look good. Apparently, anything that is made to look good is an art. Anything that pleases senses, whether it is taste; food, vision; visual art, feeling; (internal) writing, poems, hearing; music, or smelling; perfume. Et cetera, et cetera.

It's all very confusing. Maybe even a phase. Maybe I'll go back to looking at things that simply look good rather than mean something deep. Even my taste in music changed from mainstream pop (age 12), to mainstream rock (age 13), to alternative-goth-ish rock (age 13-14+) with actual meaning (than screaming obscenites about bodies on a floor or something) For now, I prefer only things that actually have meaning; things that will make me think about the world and life. Subliminal philosophies.

But I'm just a teenager and my words have no meaning. Yadda yadda.

I'll be back to this subject again, so don't think I'm done yet.
I am the supreme everything. Fear my super-powers; they are much better than yours. Watch in fear as I waste air and space. There is no cancer cure, world peace, or world-hunger solutions because of me; my mere volume stole the space that would have been occupied for those things. I consume your food without care as it salivates the tongues of a hundred lost children. I suck up information like a sponge but it never goes anywhere productive or meaningful. I am unaffected by the world's atrocities; I will only alienate you further. Angst rolls inside of me and shoots and fires at you, for no valid reason but to hurt your life as a living thing. You will never learn anything from me; you already know what I am going to say. I will not aid the world in this self-destruction that you've caused yourselves. I am not the uber-being; I am the needless. A waste of time, space, and life.

I suck at poems. It didn't even rhyme.

Storytime. Monday afternoon, after school. Mother alienates me about my internet life, blah, blah, blah. She agrees afterwards to take me to the mall (oh horror), after she found me sitting on the roof of our house. Okay, it's not the actual roof; it's a roof of a room beneath my window, which I'd never crawled out on to before. I did not want to go to the mall to meet friends or any of that; I was on a mission. And my mother had to come along (she didn't agree to stay in the car.)

I'd told her I wanted new clothes, but I lied. We went to Hot Topic, yes, the best place for clothes. I was looking for something else. I'd never been in Hot Topic before, but I knew what they sold and what I was looking for. Pointing at a shirt with a whore-fairy print on it, my mother squealed, "Isn't it cute?!" And it wasn't, take that from me.

I tried to get as far away as I could from her. I think that as a teenager, the number one thing my species fears is being seen in a public place with a parental unit. After that, there comes the social group problem and the raging hormones. I never did entirely shake her off, though, the store was too small to lose her.

Finally, I came upon what I was looking for. There it was, in all its colorful, brooding, violent glory (or gory, aha ha) just sitting on the rack. Nny was at last mine, or I would have liked to think. I went through the issues, the plastic-wrapped ones and unwrapped, only finding four indivisual issues, to my dismay. I took them off their rack, not noticing there was a "director's cut" compiled version of all seven issues. I walked away from the scene.

I took a look at the Johnny shirt, hoping to find some Invader Zim shirts as well. I traveled around the store bit more, looking at some Invader Zim stuff. I plucked a GIR plushy from off the wall. I then ventured back to the comic section.

A clerk addressed me, asking if I needed any help. I have severe social anxiety, remember. God bless me. "No, thanks." "We have Johnny t-shirts, you know." "Do you have any girl shirts?" "Ah, no. But we should." And I just smiled and walked away. Okay, I used the term "girl shirts" loosely. I'm really shy, so I can't say anything very intelligent when I'm scared half to death.

My mom found me after that. She looked at what I picked up and saw at the bottom "THE HOMICIDAL MANIAC." Then, she took one of the unwrapped issues and looked through it. It practically caused a riot. So, I put all of them back.

And I got, instead, a compiled version of all seven issues into one giant book, which was wrapped in plastic. I knew what it was, but she couldn't see what was inside because of the plastic. I managed to get her to buy this one and a GIR plushy.

So now I own "Johnny the Homicidal Maniac: Director's Cut" and a GIR plushy.

IRC-Time now:
+20:42:30+ *** Rejoined channel #pacman
+20:42:30+ *** Set by Spooky on Wed May 22 20:43:07

Quoting Happy Noodle Boy; an utter sin.


Q: "Do you want to say anything further about yourself or the future of Johnny the Homicidal Maniac?"
JCV: "Just one thing:
I am the rightful heir to the flaming global throne of evil. I WILL TAKE THIS WORLD AS MINE, so if you people could just cooperate it would be very nice."
UrsusTheHorrible: I'm cooperating.
UrsusTheHorrible: Yes. I am.
UrsusTheHorrible: Watch me. Watch me cooperating.
AnimePinay88: I'll cooperate.
AnimePinay88: Okay
UrsusTheHorrible: *cooperates*
UrsusTheHorrible: YOU'RE NOT WATCHING.
AnimePinay88: Good Job!
AnimePinay88: *watches*
AnimePinay88: ......
AnimePinay88: *gets eaten by Satan thanks to Talia*


+22:40:19+ (Spooky) You know what.
+22:40:22+ (Spooky) Goths annoy me.
+22:40:40+ (M`Att) Silence now.
+22:40:45+ (M`Att) I just destroyed the god of destruction.
+22:40:50+ (M`Att) For the third time this week.
+22:41:24+ (Spooky) Me too.
+22:41:39+ (Spooky) But replace "God of Destruction" with "self-esteem"
+22:41:48+ * M`Att grins.
+22:41:57+ (M`Att) Ever witty, Ursus.
+22:42:08+ (Spooky) Shut up or I'll kill you.
+22:42:13+ (Spooky) I'm sorry, did I say that..
+22:42:14+ (M`Att) I ain
+22:42:21+ (M`Att) AHEM.
+22:42:26+ (M`Att) I ain't afraid o' no ghost.
+22:42:27+ (Spooky) The comics have quite an influence.
+22:42:36+ ...
+22:42:40+ * M`Att edges away from Ursus.
+22:43:36+ * M`Att slips into piss-offiness.
+22:43:58+ (Spooky) I thought that said you slipped on piss.
+22:44:07+ (Spooky) ... Wow, am I in a great mood!
+22:44:21+ (M`Att) I'm not.
+22:44:28+ (Spooky) Me neither.



Not only was she able to buy "Squee!" and a bunch of other Jhonen Vasquez merchandise, she also drew this awesome picture of her and I capturing him. (http://www.geocities.com/blink18toosy/jn.jpg) I'm the one on the right. Gaaaaaah, she draws so much better than me. She doesn't read this weblog (I'm trying not to let close friends see it) but she visits my BBS. I hate her and love her to death. Augh.
Can't... stop.. quizzes.. ! It's a disease.

i'm Jack!

"You are Jack Skellington. You are very curious and love to explore." Yes, but in a quite dangerous and lethal sense.

I loved that movie, "The Nightmare Before Christmas." It was scary when I first saw it, at five years old. Now I think of it as, well, beautiful. The claywork is so expressive, especially the mayor of Halloween town. I wish I had two faces like that; people would know when not to bother me.. which would result is much less unexplained deaths... I mean, uhm... But I love Jack! Jack's the coolest. I wanna be just like him when I grow up. The music is really nice too. The singing and the dancing just gives me so many happy feelings. It reminds me of "Edward Scissorhands," another one of my favorites. (each were directed by Tim Burton, no wonder.)

And to no one's surprise, Danny Elfman did the music for both movies. I think he might have done the voice for someone (perhaps Jack) in "The Nightmare Before Christmas." He's also done music for Spiderman, Sleepy Hollow, Psycho, Beetlejuice, The Simpsons, Tales from the Crypt, Army of Darkness, and whole bunch of other creepy films or shows. I saw him last night on a Star Wars: Episode II special; he'll be assisting with the music-making of Episode III. The guy seems still kinda sorta young, too.

Oh, and hah. I found this great site about celebrities. You see a list of reasons why a celebrity is annoying and then why they're not. Then you vote. It's really very fun. I thought this one was particularly funny.. staying on the topic of Tim Burton Films and all.

And take a look at this one too. Hee hee.
+17:55:45+ *** Kearby changes topic to 'No Boys Allowed!'
+17:55:50+ (Spooky) HAHAHAHAHhfbrvebxuqeygfuq3E.
+17:58:33+ (Candy) Guys can be so freaking stupid...
+17:58:47+ (Spooky) I agree. You don't even have to prove it to me.
+17:59:24+ (Candy) Good. I shouldn't have to.
I really want to kill someone right now. Geocities' policy against outside linking is just a bit too fuckin' far. It makes me so very mad. Very mad. To see my art, you have to manually go to the 'art & writing' area and look at it. Go ahead. Now I have to create actual sites for each image I text-link. This just pisses my entire beautiful day off.
I've been on a quiz binge.

find your element
at mutedfaith.com.

"You are the Void Mage." It's true that I don't care about people "beneath" me, but I assure you, I don't have a superiority complex. If anything, my complex is inferiority.
Moby wore his "I HEART EMINEM" shirt last night in the Mango skit. Eminem insulted Moby in one of his lovely rap songs, so this is Moby's form of retaliation. Can't you just feel the love? I liked Space Dude, too. You know,.. the little doll he was holding when he was talking to Mango about going to some fashion store.

Geocities appears to be done with its maintenance. Most of my links should work now.

And I got to take that other Jhonen Vasquez quiz.

Which Jhonen Vasquez character are you? By EmReznor.
"You are Jhonen Vasquez. You create all this fucked up shit." Hell yeah. Neurotic goth artists are just so sexy. And speaking of art, I just uploaded a new drawing. It was inspired by my FCS project, which is a hand-sewn monkey.

In my history class, we're putting on a mock trial. I'm the plaintiff's lawyer, of all things. I get to work with another lawyer, who happens to be the smartest boy in the class (great). I wish I was a jury member; I can't speak in front of an audience. Though, when I looked through the affidavits of my witnesses and the defendant's witnesses, I actually found that I had a huge advantage. It's the case of Dale Hampshire v. Clara Muffet; a modern day "Miss Muffet" story. You know, the girl eating her curds and wey. Dale, a landlord, is sueing Miss Muffet because she hasn't paid her rent for the last few months. She left her apartment because of a supposed spider infestation.

My direct examination will probably be of how Miss Muffet had many plants in her apartment, which attracted bugs. This is her first apartment too, and many friends mention that she wasn't sure if she could pay for it all. So I'll say something like she exaggerated spider story just to get out of paying the rent. Something like that.

Oh, and Miss Muffet is played by this certain girl I absolutely loathe. She's really pissed off about getting the part, too, which satisfied me at least a little bit. The girl happened to be my "guide" on the first day I went to the new school. She's hated me since that day, mainly because, I'm assuming, that I get better grades than her. She's always trying to make me feel horrible. Last week, she just had to bother me about the french project. "Did you even DO a project?" "Yes, I've just missed the last few days." Okay, I lied. I never did the project, but still, she was being an ass.

Another time was when I was put into a group with her for a poster project. At first she was indignant at the fact that I was even in her group. We worked on the poster with another boy, who practically did nothing. I wrote most of the things on the poster, but the girl took the pen away from me and started writing down things I said. She said she'd take it home and finish it. The next day, she brought it back; it was completely redone in computer print. Everything I wrote or thought up was changed around to her own words.

When we presented, though, she was so determined to make me feel like shit that she asked the most idiotic questions. I presented most of it, anyway. "Did you just read what I wrote off the poster?" "Well, yeah. You covered up everything I wrote." "No wonder, that's why everyone was staring at us!" "Where else are they going to stare at? We were presenting a poster." Ugh. I hate idiots. I wish there was some sort of genocide against them. Leave the smart people behind. Well, I suppose stupidity makes the world go 'round, so ...nevermind that mass murder thing.