Dreams, Reminiscences, and Current Events

 
             

   
 
 

Saturday, July 08, 2006

 
funny search engine queries
some people google some wierd things that take them to pages on this site... for one thing, the query 'pork rinds' give the online pork rind resource as the #1 hit in all major search engines. This probably happened because I totally rebuilt the page with 30 links to funny pork rind oriented webpages, and there is a link to it on the wikipedia entry for pork rinds.

Here are some other queries that visitors to my site entered, and the pages on this site that resulted:

I know you want to cum > bwp
how to fuck your man
i will pay you to shit in my mouth
my pussy is horny when brother of my own looks I masturbated
no money fuck girl
stand up big dick pussy is wet
I walk down the street+suck my dick lick my balls kiss my ass
girlfriend mad "cum too fast"
woman looking suck dick st
all you ladys pop your pussy like this, go ahead dont stop dont miss
ignorant ass bitches on crack
fighting kick break bust face bullshit
my brother girlfriend and i hate that bitchcried together lied together i swear to god i hope we motherfucking die together
my daughter is fucking a nigga
I want to fuck a black brother in his ass
go ahead take your momma out all night champagne
"i'm the kind of bitch"
pussy bitch
who's got good pussy
fuck my pussy baby

erection pentile > blog
ways to open a pussy wet or dry
where can i find that black and white picture of those two girls kissing on a bed?
pussy cream farts (91st result)
what are tha names of the greek letters?
how satanics create the video games
how to finger and make girl cum
do the in room refridgerators at disney also have a freezer

president pork rinds > the online pork rind resource
pork game online
Redneck pork
pork her
pork rhines (I get that about once a day)
unclean dirty pork meat
are pork rinds healthy
brands of pork
jewish own in pork
poem chicharrones
pork poems
trouble in pork business
pork animated
don't eat pork
pork cartoon

what are the effects of eating pork? > pork rind reviews
should pork smell

that pussy ain't mine > hwa
fuck that little hoe
"eat MY PUSSY" LYING
bare ass and pussy (99th result from query)
you can't make a hoe a house wife
suck my dick hoe
"licky licky licky licky"
suck my cock you black hoe
big dick in little pussy (60th result from query)
little brown dick sucker
'punk bitch slapper'
dick's and pussy's
itty bitty short short man
nwa bootie juice
big black hoez
eat my pussy well i suck your dick

prostitute at houston > Houston

black gay penpals prison > Huntsville

worlds best fried pork skins > porn
sick porn (the site is 324th in the list, so this guy clicked the "next" button 32 times before choosing this page)
make me some food woman
porn rind
naked greasy women
scrumptious naked women
wholesome nude women
pictures of peanut butter on naked girls

bag of pork > store

"san antonio" prostitute > San Antonio

lee - 1:52 PM

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Sunday, June 04, 2006

 
I Dream I'm in a wheelchair van on my way to the WKAR public radio station on the Michigan State University campus to do an interview about The Listening Ear crisis intervention center. The van is driven by Duane, my 70-year-old barber, who explains that he can't take me all the way to the studio because the campus roads are too curvy, and traffic runs at 45 MPH, and since his vehicle has such a high center of gravity, it may roll over.

The interviewer is a Jewish girl I worked with as an intern at Lotus. She tells me that because of my personal problems, I'm not a good representative of The Ear. Apparently, I can no longer empathize with callers because I'm too wrapped up in my own shit. She tells me she'll have to interview Marcel, my home health aid, not a Listening Ear member,who met me on campus to open doors and push elevator buttons for me.

I'm told to wait in a radio studio next door. It's very cramped, and there are vinyl records in bookshelves on all 4 walls, and stacks of albums on the desk, along with a DJ turntable set. In the back right corner of the desk are the only CDs in the studio, all disco, including ABBA.. This was obviously some vinyl purist’s idea of a joke.

As I hear an interview start with Marcel, I feel angry, especially when he answers questions about the reflective psychotherapy method used at the Ear, of which he is unfamiliar, but he pretends he understands it. I also feel sad when I realize that the interviewer is right: I can't be an Ear anymore. I console myself by pretending I'm a hip-hop DJ, and scratch records on the turntables.

Upon awakening, I realize this is the first time I've had a dream with me in a wheelchair

lee - 8:08 PM

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Saturday, February 25, 2006

 

lee - 2:31 AM

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Monday, January 16, 2006

 
Foo Fighters Nightmare:

Seeing the new music videos of me playing bass must have triggered this one:
I am the bass player for the Foo Fighters, and I'm driving back home from a late night gig. Dave Grohl is driving, I'm riding shotgun, and we are alone on the interstate. He makes sexual advances, I resist. He projects an image in my head of two teenage girls kissing passionately, in an attempt to make me more receptive to his advances. I awaken from this mezmerization to find my penis erect and raw. I feel a strange moistness between my legs. When I look down, I see BLOOD

Here is an audio dreamscape

lee - 8:26 PM

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Wednesday, October 05, 2005

 
9/11/2011 Dream


It is time yet again to remember the attacks, but we live in a new America. George W. had cancelled the 2008 elections under permanent emergency security measures, and by now all dissent has been put down, and those Americans under the new dictatorship, afraid of being sent to Guantanamo II, have come to accept the new order.


The two main propaganda devices the government uses are threat level adjustments, and militainment, both of which are in store for the crowd assembled for the tenth anniversary of the attacks reenactment.


The twin towers have been rebuilt for the sole purpose of their redestruction today. The crowd is treated to an aerobatics show, with the jumbo jets spinning and rolling fantastically before they crash into the towers. The spectators cheer wildly. In order to recreate the scene of fleeing, terrified New Yorkers, the military police fire tear gas into the crowd, and yell, “there are suicide bombers among you! Your only chance is to run and seek cover indoors!”


The result of the pent up energy of waiting for the reenactment to start, and the surprise threat to the lives of the Lower Manhatten crowd has unanticipated reactions. The excitement makes them horny as hell.


I find myself in a lobby of a luxury hotel with a mullet-wearing former coworker at IBM, and a pair of sexy blonde marketing corporate types. I find out that the older one is the younger one’s boss. The subordinate blonde moves in so her face is 6 inches from the mullet head, and says softly, “I want to be your lover.” I am surprised when they disappear together, as I remember him being unusually devoted to his wife.


I go to the bar for a martini with the supervisor, who tells me, “Thank God I’m finally away from that sniveling suck-up.” We finish our drinks, and she invites me upstairs. We arrive, surprised to find ourselves alone. She throws me face down on the mattress, and flips me over on my back. She climbs on top of me and kisses me forcefully.


Just as she starts moaning and grinding her pelvis into mine, our coworkers arrive, giggling, their clothes and hair disheveled. The boss dismounts me and says, “whew, I need a shower!” I wait until I hear water running, and head into the bathroom. I open the shower curtains and look her soapy body up and down. Our eyes meet. We smile.


I wake up.

lee - 11:14 PM

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Saturday, September 03, 2005

 
New York, New York, it's a hell of a town


Sunday: Went to Heather's wedding party, got there just in time to miss the open mic folk singing (thank God) but got to see Heather & Stuart serenade each other, then Errol and I got to watch 1 hour of contra dancing. Went back to the Chelsea Four Points Sheriton, Errol went out to pick up an order of haute Italian cuisine: arugala salad with pears and blue cheese, duck w/honey glaze with a side of risotto, and a crepe soaked in liqueur w/berries


Monday: Errol got 1/2 gallon of fresh squeesed O.J. which accelerated my bowel program, so I was able to catch the 10:30 paratransit bus ride (acces-a-ride: $4 to anywhere in the city, natch!) to the Guggenheim. The works on display were not interesing to me: a modern art sculpture collection, Maplethorpe photos, and some classical scetches. Not one color other than black, white or beige. Heather met us at the lobby and gave us a tour of central park. Then back to the hotel for Indian food: chicken vindaloo, saag paneer, naan, 2 chutneys, and a mango lassi. Then off to Yankee Stadium, where the Yankees shut out the Blue Jays 7 - 0. It was kinda creepy waiting for the bus back, which didn't arrive until an hour after the game ended.


Tuesday: Caught the bus to the MoMA, but it was closed. Heather saved us again by telling us that the Carnage Deli was around the corner, and told us to order her a bowl of matzo ball soup. I had a Rueben, fries, a celery soda, and sour pickles. The size of the sandwiches shocked Errol, who called his ethically vegitarian wife. I didn't eat anything else for the rest of the day. Heather took us to the nearby Museum of Television. We watched the notorious episode of Saturday Night Live where Elvis Costello stopped his band at the begining of his second appearance to say "I'm sorry ladies and gentlemen, but there's no reason to play this song here tonight" and played "Radio Radio" instead. NBC told him not to play that song beforehand, as it is critical of the media. Back to the hotel, then up to Broadway to see Spamalot, which was superb. Back to the hotel for a rest, then out to a bar which specialized in martinis. I expected to see a quiet piano bar, but the place was packet full of business school undergrads from Columbia finishing up a team building exersize. The DJ was spinning 80s retro, which these kids would have heard when they were 5. I had an apple martini, which was great (and they didn't skimp on the vodka). The carmel apple martini I had next wasn't as good. Then we went to Scores, a couple blocks away. As the zagat guide forewarned, the dances were rated "G", and, as it has always been true for me, the brunettes were nicer to me than the blondes. A few of the girls showed much more inteligence than strippers elsewhere, making them more like geishas. I spent $250 in 25 minutes. Several strangers said they liked my Beastie Boys t-shirt that day.


Wed: Woke up at 11, and thanks to the ineffectiveness of a bran muffin, we didn't leave until 2. Heather met us on the way down to the West Village. I finally got to see New York as I imagined it; brownstone buildings with shops offering the best stuff in the world. Murray's cheese shop, John's pizzaria (2nd oldest in America), and Cones ice cream, all on the same block! I then met up with a friend for dinner. We had planned to go to a French Bistro, but it turns out it had steps, so we went to a Mexican restaurant next door. I had beef enchiladas mole and guacamole, which the waiter made at our table.

lee - 8:21 PM

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Tuesday, August 16, 2005

 
All the men I've ♥'d...



One of my friends Senior year was a crazy bass player from Arkensas who played in a hardcore band called Barbed Wire Play Pen As an anarchist, he was always playing pranks at the expence of the greedy. Once, he glued a silver dollar to the sidewalk in front of our co-op on a game day. Thousands of people walked past our house, and about once a minute, someone would bend down to try to pick it up. Sometimes they'd pick at it for a whole minute. We'd be sitting on the roof laughing at these human squirrels, and he'd yell at them, "serve's ya right you greedy bastard!" At the next home game, he'd walk across the street, and casually drop a small pack of firecrackers in the alley next to a chain restaurant. Since they were connected to a cigarette fuse, he had enough time to walk all the way down the block, cross at an intersection, and walk back to the co-op so we could watch the terrorized football fans.

In the winter, he heard that someone at the fraternaty across the street had been verbally abusive to some of our party guests. He told me he got back at them by dropping a 50 pound fish into their ventilation system, but I didn't believe him.

In the spring, he introduced me to dumpster diving. He said that fraternity boys threw out all kinds of useful stuff when they left town. He said he found a first aid kit, a portable stereo and a quarter ounce of marijuana. I hit a nearby sorority at 3:00 AM. I quickly realized I made a mistake, as I kept finding disgusting evidence of their menstruation and copulation. I was about to quit when I saw a blue 2' x 3' construction paper placard. When I turned it around, I couldn't believe my eyes. On the top in bright yellow letters it read "All the men I've ♥'d at U of M" and had four columns: Freshman, Sophmore, Junior, Senior. Under each colummn there was a list of five or six names, then a comma, then two or three Greek letters. About a quarter of the entries were ??????? followed by Greek letters.

I was bringing my treasure home, when I ran in to some friends from work (Alummni Telephone Fundraising). I showed them the presentation, and one of them said, "Oh my God, I know who that is!" he said he was friends with the last guy on the list, and his current girlfriend's name was Amy Weatherwax.

I had a copy of the student directory, which had the home address and phone number of every student at U of M. So I called her parent's house and asked for Amy. She was home! I said, "Amy, you don't know me, but, I know you know..." and I started reading the names on the list. By the fourth name she cried out, "Oh my God" in horror. I told her I wanted $1000, or I'd mail the placard to her parents. She called my bluff, saying "Well, go ahead and do it." I hung it up on the bulletin board in my co-op.

At the time, I thought Amy was a tramp for forgetting the names of her lovers. I can only remember 20% of mine now.

lee - 2:00 PM

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Saturday, July 30, 2005

 
a fool and his money...


hi5.com is a virtual social networking site. You create a profile, and your real life friends add you to their buddy list, and you get to see all of the other buddies your friend has added. It's an easy way to expand your social network. The site also doubles as a dating site, and enables searches based on age, gender, proximity to zip code, and what type of relationship is sought (friends, dating, just looking around). After a couple friends invited me to be their buddies, I spruced up my profile, and took the search engine for a spin. I came across Felicia, who lived in Lansing. Here is what her profile looks like:



Gender: Female

Age: 27

Birthday: January 10

Looking To: Date Men

Status: Single

Location: Lansing, MI

Country: United States of America

Interests: Modelling and Photography

Hometown: Lansing

Favorite Books: Inspirational Books, Management Books, Entaintainment Books, Books on current affairs.....amongst others

Favorite Music: Country music, R & Bs.

Favorite Quote: Honesty

About Me: I am a nobody , got nothing impressive to offer; not a prince charming nor a knight in shining armor. All i have and can give is my tender heart. Only hope and pray that it is enough to get me by in the game of love. I believe that love is a crime i.e an accomplice is needed to love; but not all are willing to commit the crime of love.As for me, I live to love, to experiencethe magical feeling that love gives, to give my heart , my soul , my everything. I long to live my life for something worhtwhile{ love } ; for it is like oxygen, the very essence of life. Much time is wasted on frivolities and trivialities and chasing after the wind and if there"s one lesson i have learned in life, it is that u got to make d most of everything for life in itself is never ending and coming to love is what makes life eternal. Indeed , the greatest lesson is to love and be loved. So, i crave that, i want it, i desire it; if for just a moment, then my life wouldnt have been a waste Life is too short to be chained to an unloving heart and if there"s little love anywhere on the planet, i can travel the lenght to seek and find it. I am young @ heart but puts no barrier to love. I only seek to find the one who appreciates the "little" i have to give. So i keep hoping , as i know the best things in life either come too soon or too late{ i pray for soon though} but never @ the time we expect . I await love with love. NB: my yahoo ID is xxx@yahoo.com

I'd Like to Meet: A man with a loving heart. Goodlooking? Not necessarily. Willing to love & be loved. Men liberty? why not so far he remains : flexible[ to his needs & mine]; accessible[ to those who need him];responsible[for all his actions];& what is more, originality[being himself]

I decided to send her an instant message, thinking it would be fun to seduce her. She got back with me within hours. We got to know each other. She was a former model who went to photography school, and was on a freelance assignment in Ghana. She asked me if I was married a total of three times in the first week of our online chats. She started calling me "cherie" pretty quickly, and started sending me love poetry with African imagery. Example:


Yesterday was One fabulously wonderful day for me

as I was strolling along a sandy beach

looking at life so beautifully,

I saw the most incredible life force at a distance.

The harmattan sun was beaming upon this

life intensely as my eyes were focused

in a deep vision that drew me into it

like a very powerful magnet

I was standing from afar in awe of this

life I was seeing while my jaw was open

wide in disbelief of the magnificent

beauty that radiated from it.

The birds were singing all around this

force with multitudes of happy songs that

filled the air with so much joy that it

put smiles on every living thing

An assortment of beautiful creatures that

were around this beautiful site began to

dance to the multitudes of songs the birds

were singing ever so joyfully around it.

No clouds in the skies could block out

the suns rays upon this life because it

had a force that gave life to all things

around it and above it

It was purely magnificent to look at and

watch as it danced with all the creatures

while the birds flew up and around in the

air doing their own fluttering dance and

landing upon this beautiful thing giving
it tiny kisses.

I began to walk towards this life and the

closer I came to it the more power I could

feel from it radiating a happy warmth deep

inside my soul and elevating my spirit.

Sparkling brilliant sunlight flowed off it

with particles of golden with silver glitter

floating in the air catching the wings of

all the birds and coating the skins of all

the beautiful creatures as they danced.

I was so awe struck with it's beauty that

I began to cry with so much happiness like I

never felt before, while the force that it

created kept pulling me closer and closer as

I saw the sun sparkle off all the glitter it

had created out of thin air.

I became faint as this life touched my soul,

because there was so much love flowing from

it onto all the living things and unto myself

with such incredible loving power that made

you want to dance with so much joy.

When my eyes cleared from the blinding

force that camebeauty I saw what this force

was and I was totally overwhelmed with

what I saw, It was you I saw, Yes You,

the most beautiful upon me due to it's

heavenly creature on this

planet called MAN- whom i call HERMAN.

This are the thoughts of my heart this day .......



I have learned not to get too emotionally invested in relationships that start this way, and her premature romantic attachment and lack of command of the English language raised red flags. She expressed a deserate need to meet me, again and again, but said she couldn't because of a complex "situation." Her Agency owed her $9000, but they only paid with money orders or certified checks. She needed local currency to pay for a flight back to the US, and settle her affairs in Africa, but no local bank would cash them. I asked if she had family stateside, she said her parents had died, and her last surviving reletive, an aunt, was "down with cancer." What about her local US bank? They needed her physical presance to be of help. What about the embassy? They couldn't help either.

Eventually, she asked if I could help. She proposed that she have her agency send me the certified check, and on the same day, I would send the same amount to an address in Lagos, Nigeria via Western Union. A pårt of me wanted to believe the story, and I thought the idea of rescuing a woman from darkest Africa was romantic, so I gave her my address.

Yesterday, I got four e-mails from her, two of which were identical, containing long love poems. The difference was that one of them opened with "Dearest Mark," and was signed with a different last name. At that point all doubt that the whole affair was a scam evaporated. What a lousy scam artist: too lazy to cut and paste the name from a form letter!


When I asked who "Mark" was (knowing full well that Mark is crime slang for intended fraud victim) she said she thought it was my middle name. She sent this e-mail:


UPS confirms the delivery of the check will be today or o moday...Pls effect cashing the check immediately @ any of the cashing points in your neighborhood............i am tentatively putting my return till thursday hoping that u effect cashing the check today. There is no telling how excited i am now that i am closer to meeting U.....can only hope that fate guide us thru this & we make something better of our lives together. I pray that my love quest ends in U.To love & be loved by U would be the ultimate gift life gives me.

I called the secret service asking if there was anyting I could do to help them procecute them. He'd heard my story before. He advised me to take the counterfeit money order and frame it, and hang it on my wall, and that there was nothing he could do about the scammers.

At this point it was my turn to have a bit of fun. Even though it cost me a $20 processing fee to so, I sent them a $1.00 money transfer. They have to go across town to collect it. Her resposnce:


Hi Lee,

I appreciate ure generosity in sending me that amount of money,...i am really grateful for ure kindness....a million "thank u" cannot express the deep gratitude i feel insde for ure willingness, how i wish i was right by u at this time cherie to take good care of u and to really show u too how much i care about u in person....however this can only be possible if u could help me in expediating the cashing of the check that was delivered to u today as this would make it possible for me to ake it back tmr to settle down and get to meet u cherie...i love u in ways words cannot explain, if u could do this for me now, u deserve me more than anyone in the world, i care and will always care about you....................

UPS confirmed the delivery of the check today at about 9:15 am , this is the tracking code for it: xxxxxxxxxxxx . Pls kindly effect cashing the check immediately at any of the check cashing points in your neighborhood............i am tentatively putting my return till tuesday hoping that u effect cashing the check today. I cannot wait to meet u finally as i yearn to have us both explore and dicover much more about ourselves......I pray that my love quest ends in U.To love & be loved by U would be the ultimate gift life gives me.

(repeated my instructiions for the money transfer)


I would be catching a plane from here, as soon as i receive the money...........pls cherie hasten up everything, my expectation, anxiety is heightened with the thought of seeing U soon.

Please make it count.

Kisses & Hugs


My reply:

n/p I just wanted to make sure the money actually got to the right person via this method. I did get the check from ur agency today, but i can't immediately cash it because my wheelchair is still being repaired. It should be fixed later this week.


Please be patient, the time of our sweet union won't be delayed too long!


I will certainly send the money the second I am physically able.


I'm desperate to hear your voice. Can we arrange a time when I can get u on the phone? Perhaps tomorrow morning at 8:00 (I guess that would be noon for you)?


Your one true love,


Lee


Her reply:

This is the thought of my heart 4 U:
Do u know of a place called Uppendi?? A special place in everyone's heart............hmmmm what kind of place do i have in mind??
It is a place where the crazy moon makes the monkey sings & the baboon to swoon, a place where the sultry sent of the lotus bloom, will simply carry you away..........a place where the hippos swings on the jungle pine & the rhinnos rhyme in a konga line; a place where the flaming flamingoes are intertwined & the stars only go out to Play........
It is a place where U watch your step because the top is steep for falling & a place where you hold your breath while flowing in the water, cos it is a long way to fall of the lovers leaf & the falling can only be divine............
Even if U walk the earth like there is no tomorrow, from east to west, north to south, from Tanganika to Kilimanjaro, from the everest to the lowest of valleys, U will simply find such a place called Uppendi, so far it is under the Sun..........
Cos , in Uppendi, U got the passion fruit grow sweet,such that it is so divine & you lose your mind as it sweeps you off your feet, in Uppendi, u got no worry or a fear; & it only takes 2 to make it 2, your heart will lead you there!
Ask me, where is Uppendi...............it is in your heart
What is Uppendi..........a special place in your heart, a special feeling, called LOVE!

I already found mine & it is in U....................

Kisses & hugs

(she yet again repeated the instructions foe the moneygram)


this was the exact same letter she sent two weeks ago

The check arrived Monday. I blew off her attempts to contact me until today, when we had this chat:


good morning cherie

how are u??

good!

nice to hear that

and how is ure health too dear

i miss u a lot

what part of lansing ddo u live in?

Roosevelt avenue

why do u ask??

curious

ic

how is ure health??

u must live near I 10 then, right?

around there

i thought u would call back the other day

but u did not

hope nothing

bank of america branch on bourbon street or canal street?

why are u asking!!

u are not even answering me

curious about u?

i understand

but u do not care to even answer my questions

u do not know roosevelt avenue at all??

yes, off course

ic

which branch?

BOA branch

have u been able to help in cashing my pay cherie??

which streeeeet

have u??

canal or beale

u are not answering me cherie

is there something u are not telling me??

no, but u r not answering me.

which branch?

beale

lee??

Where do you grocery shop, H.E.B. or the Piggly Wigglya

i would not say anything again

unless u tell me

have u helped in cashing my money??

Where do you grocery shop, H.E.B. or the Piggly Wigglya

Lee??

will cash todday

are u trying to paly on me??

play on me

no

when today

now

ic

i have entrusted so much to u cherie

where do u shop?

and i do not want to feel i made a mistake now

i told u the nature of my job

i am mostly away from home most of the time

i was only to come around and settle down now

at least take a break from the trouble and

stress my job has brought this past weeks

i know, but whut grocery storee did u last visit?

please, it's important to me

the last time i shopped

i did so in NewJersey

H.E.B. or the Piggly Wigglya in Michigan?

i last shopped in NewJersey

in MI

about 3 months back when i was in MI

i shopped at H.E.B

Have you gone to see the 60 ft bronze elephant statue downtown?

yes

what if i have

things are getting frustrating here for me cherie

i was never it to take this long to help me

if u really wanted to

do u feel otherwise about me now

is that it??

let me know cherie

if that is it

i told u all along

i could not compel u to help me if u do not feel obliged

i acted on ure word that i could trust u

i thought i could listen to the dictates of my heart about u

and now

i do not know what to think anymore

it has been 5days now cherie

I 10 runs thru Texas, not MI. Beale st is in New Orleans, not Lansinng. There are no HEB in MI and there is no Elephhsant Sytatue

i know all that

goodbye

lee - 5:15 PM

(2) comments

Sunday, July 03, 2005

 
Bonehead Moves at Work

I've always had a bad attitude towards my employers. Here are a list of regretable incidents which let me feel good about being retired:

1981 Newspaper Delivery, Lansing State Journal/USA Today:

-Not refusing to a woman who refused to pay for her subscription in advance; "I don't like paying for something I haven't got yet.", when she did pay, always paid a $5 bill with twenties (taking all of my goddam change), and insisted I put her paper behind her screen door, even though she occationally put her psychotic rotweiler chained to the front door... I have an old mail bag with a set of canine-delivered holes in it.

-Staying on for a month after they switched from afternoon to morning delivery. Who the fuck wants to get up at 4:30 in the morning every day just to earn 25 bucks a week?



1984 -1985 Babysitting

-Contining to work for the neighbor across the street even after the kid's father's friend had me watch over his kids when he and his friend took their wives out. I said that no, I don't mind babysitting for both sets of kids. The neighbor's friend got all in my face and aggressively corrected me, "they're not babies. You're a sitter."

-Double booking myself. At the last minute, I had to arrange a play date with two sets of kids who didn't know each other... the parents were not pleased.

-Rifling thru a client's underwear drawer (I've always had a thing for sheen undergarments)

1986 Bus Boy, Royal Fork Buffet Restaurant

-Working in a shitty job where the manager told me my hair was too long, "it can't go over your collar"

-There was a point where they had too many bussers on staff. Instead of just firing some of us, the assistant manager decided it would be easier (or more fun) to start hurling verbal abuse at the bussers so that some of us quit. I stayed on.

1988-1989 Clean Up Jobs in Dormatory Cafeterias

-Stole food. We only got 2 meals a day with a standard meal plan. I ate stolen breakfast cereal in my dorm room for two years. Once, just for laughs, I stole a gallon sized can of Cheez Whiz, and used it as sort of a trophy of my irreverence. Also brought a huge bag of pancakes back to my room, ate from the "bag o' cakes" for days

-Worked a no-show job; I'd put on my apron, punch in my punch card, sneak out, go to class, come back, put my apron back on, and punch out.

1989 MSU Dairy Store

-Gave people obscenely large scoops of ice cream.

1990 - 1992 Michigan Telefund, Fundraising Telemarketer

-Posed for a group picture of employees with my hand in my pocket, with my middle finger sticking out. They noticed, but only after the picture was mailed out to thousands of alumni.

-Laughed uncontrolably when I had to call Peter Dickman, class of 82

1993 Solution Technology Associates

-Being too cheap to spring for a hotel room, had sex with my girlfriend on the office floor on a Sunday, then told the secretary about it.

1994 United Consumers Club

-Talked loudly about LSD at the check in line at the convention hotel

-Gave a copy of my band's CD to the Gin Blossoms at the same convention (they were laying there) in the hopes they'd listen to it, like it, and recommend us to their record label.

1995 College Credit Card Corporation

-Laughed hystericaly when I recieved an application from a girl with a funny name: Misty Box

-We occationally worked with student groups that would sponsor our presance on campus.. They got a piece of the action of the credit card sign up commisions, and lent an air of legitamacy to our presance on campus. I asked one of the leaders of one of these groups if she liked to be spanked. Fired.

1996 MCI Telemareter

-Just before my tenure was up at this employer, I started changing the names in the computer reccords of the numbers we called... "Hello, may I please speak with Mr or Mrs Dick Shuckor?"

1997-2001 Lotus/IBM

-When this site was listed an official "evil site" by the Portal of Evil, I sent out an e-mail to the floor with a link to the site, not realising that there were links to adult sites on that web site.

-When Notes 5.0 came out, I figurd out a way of sending out an e-mail that contained encrypted fields nested inside animated tables (both useless features for an e-mail client), that caused the whole application to crash. I sent an e-mail out to the floor with the subject "danger: do not open this document." Some people must have, because I got some angry e-mails, but I didn't get any kind of reprimand. I'm sure it would read badly if I leaked to the press "IBM employee reprimanded for demonstrating fatal flaw in Lotus Notes"

-In the maniacal delusion that I was the best analyst in the company, I wrote a letter saying if I wasn't promoted within 3 weeks, I would quit. They let me go.

lee - 9:30 PM

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Thursday, June 30, 2005

 
Early sexual experiences:
1) I must have been under age 12 when this first thing happened. My babysitter told me to hold out my hand and close my eyes, and she took it and put my finger in a place that was hot and wet. Shocked, I opened my eyes to find that she had guided my hand between her legs. I was disgusted because it was obvious that she had just peed.

Later, probably during puberty, I was in the West part of the second story of my house, in my parent's room after sunset, for some reason I can't remember, and I glanced out my window to see my neighbor's 16 year old daughter rubbing lotion into her breasts! I speant hours and several subsequent attempts to repeat the experience, spying on them off and on for months but with no luck. I'm sure that if her house was on the East side of my house, I'd never had gotten any homework done.
When I told my friend about it years later, it inspired the following song:Naked Neighbors


I pulled down my window shade

Thought "my God, I've got it made"

Looked in the window across from me

What I saw was a pair of 36Ds

chorus


Naked neighbors

commit voyeurism

peeping toms

will shoot their jism


Suddently, I caught her eye

She screamed real loud

"Oh my, a spy"

Then she stopped, and thought and smiled,

and mouthed to me, "Let's get wild!"


Chorus


Ten seconds flat, I was right next door

Disregarding my cancer sore

I saw her there spralled on the bed

Her arms were open and her legs were spread

So I jumped into her awaiting flesh

Careful not to make a mess

She began to twist and I began to thrust

Enjoying her ample Mt. Everest bust


chorus, end


Roots of future phone sex addiction

When I was about 13, I started getting odd phone calls, always at about 4:00, when I was home alone. The callers always knew my name. The first one was a creepy man that ssounded like he was in his 20s. He would ask me, "do you beat off?" I was really getting in to electric bass at the time, and I asked him if he'd like to hear me play, and I put the phone in front of the amp and jammed for a couple minutes. When I picked the phone back up, I heard a dial tone. That creep never called back.

A few weeks later, I started getting calls from a stoned-out sounding teenaged girl (16-18 yrs). She kept suggesting we meet each other at the mall, and then head over to her place. She told me how she liked to masturbate with care bear plushies until their faces got wet. Unfortunately for me, my mother intercepted one of my calls, and told her not to call back,

So, the first times anyone showed sexual interest in me was over the phone. This developed into a yearlong period 12 years later when I spent hours on AOL everyday cruising chat rooms trying to build enough trust from female chatters to get their phone numbers, and then seducing them on the phone. More on that later.

lee - 8:05 PM

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Saturday, June 25, 2005

 
Six Feet Under



The intro to the HBO show is a montage of scenes from the death care industry. The images had a much different effect on me the last time I saw it. This is because the last time I saw the show was in 2004; before I was diagnosed with ALS.


I got diagnosed between Feb and Mar of this year. It went down like this: I went to the Neurosurgical dept at the U of M Hospital to see what was causing my head to tilt to the left.

My Neurosurgon admited me saying my spine was dangerously unstable, and immediate surgery was required. The next day, his boss, a spine specialist, overruled him, saying it was stable, but since I was admitted anyways, I should go for a stretch at their world class rehab unit. While waiting for a rehab room to become available, I shared a room with an elderly patient who was fed with a tube, and had a machine that sucked mucus from his lungs intermitantly making a disgusting sound at all hours. I finally got readmitted, and they worked on me for what turned out to be a three week stay. At the third week, as a matter of routine, I went through an EMG test, which involves gettimg electrical shocks and dozens of intramuscular pokes with an inch long needle. The doctor told me the results were inconclusive, but I think he was lying. That night the attending physisian told me that in all likelihood I'd slowly lose control off all my voluntary muscle system, not be able to move, eat, speak, and eventuall¥, breathe. The next day, a Neurologist told me reasuringly that there are several other possibile causes for the results of the EMG, and we'd have to rule them all out before finalising the ALS diagnosis. The day after that, I got a visit from the ALS clinic nurse practitioner, who told me that they wouldn't have sent her over unless they were pretty sure I had ALS. This result of one doctor telling me to remain hopeful while others telling me I must accept my fate was more than a little upsetting. My emotions ranged from dispair to hope to fury during the rest of my stay. I finally got the word that the last medical test that might have got me off the hook came up normal; the diagnosis was finalised. Despite my religious training to always be hopeful, I wasn't affected by the news, having already given up.


I imagined that finally knowing my fate would provide some sort of burst of creativity, but instead, I fell into a rut (see May 15 entry). I'm doing better now, spending more time adding to this site, which is an online epitaph for me. I'm going to figure out a way to keep this site online 100 years after I die, so I'll have some sort of legacy. I'm lucky to have that opportunity, most people's memorys don't last that long.

lee - 9:50 PM

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Monday, June 20, 2005

 
Can a hard drive crash be a good thing?


We're refinishing the basement, which involves a lot of power tool use. On more than one occation, we get brief power failures. A couple weeks ago, a spike caused my external hard drive to crash, despite it being plugged in to a surge protecter. At first I was quite upset, and I went to the Seagate website, where they have a data recovery service advertised. I called them, and they told me that costs ran from $500 to $2500, and he asked me, "Is the data on the drive worth $500?" I thought about it for a minute and said I wasn't sure. I decided that I'd wait a week or so and see how much I missed it. Well, one week went by, then two, and I didn't miss it at all.



I had already transfered all of my files that make up this site, my grad school library, my music collection, and some irreplacable pictures to the internal hard drive of my Dual Processor Mac G5. I had the following things on my external drive:

-20 Full Length Movies

-The first 4 seasons of Seinfeld

-15 Banned Cartoons (due to derogetory racial content)

-15 Video clips of 9/11 footage, including I like to watch which must be seen to be believed.

-10 Skateboarding videos

-5 illegal street racing videos

-200 music videos

-A well sorted pr0n video collection including:

--15 vids of boy/girl scenes with brunette girls on top

--20 tribadism videos (see May 15 blog entry)

--5 Videos with Jewish girls

--15 Lesbian strap-on vids

--40 Lesbian Kissing vids

--25 miscelaneous files in a folder called "hot lez"

--10 "Classic" full length pornos from the 70s and 80s (mostly featuring Christy Canyon)

--800 sex sound files downloaded from alt.binaries.sounds.erotica (including 4 of my own creation)


I aquired the files iin the pr0n folder from IRC, Usenet and peer-to-peer programs. The files I saved on my external drive were the cream of the crop;; I kept only 10-20% of the stuff I downloaded. This collection is a result of thousands of man hours of collecting and filtration, and the sudden loss of all of it gave me a new perspective.


There is something hypnotic about watching progress bars go from 0 to 100% waiting for something to download. As a graduate from the University of Michigan with a Bachelors in Psychology, it's strange I didn't realize that I had trapped myself in a perfect case of classical conditioning.


The most effective meathod by which to cause a subject to repeat a particular behavior is to reward the subject intermitantly with varying degrees of rewards. It works the same way with slot machines as with porn downloaders.. Slots give payouts intermitatly at differing amounts, and downloaders get fresh videos that they will find exiting to varying degrees. The need for novelty for porn users causes the urge to download to continue, but the urge to collect requires further scrutiny.


For me, it got to the point that the collection became an end unto itself. I didn't really enjoy looking at the videos, but stil had an urge to collect, weed through, sort and store these videos. Most of the time, I'd fast-forward or move the progress bar in the media player to skip through the video to see if I should keep it, where I should put it, and if I should rename it to give it a more descrriptive name. There was no joy in the process, just compulsion.


Well the hard drive crash stoped the collection behavior cold, and it brought about a new clarity. I deleted all my usenet downloaders, cancelled my giganews account, uninstalled my peer-to-ppeer clients and mIRC. I found I can watch any mussic video on Yahoo music, and download any song, legally, off iTunes. I promised myself I'd replace all my stolen music with legal copies from iTunes.


Overall, I feel happier since the crash, and I think I'm going to format the bitch and sell it on eBay, and give the money back to my dad, who bought it in the first place.

lee - 5:55 PM

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Sunday, June 05, 2005

 
First kiss story

MBR>
One of my friends in high school came by with a couple of her friends from another school at my 16th birthday party. One of them was a mousey but cute brunette named Liz. I told her I'd like to see her again, and she said she'd swing by the next afternoon. She she showed up in a huge brown van, and I got in. We didn't talk too much, but I'm pretty sure we had the same idea because she asked where we could find a secluded spot to park. This wasn't too hard, because there was a dirt road near some wetlands close to my house (there's a subdivision there now). So we parked and immediatly went at. She definately kept a lid on things; just soft lip rubbing, no tongue, no cuddling. We kept going for about an hour, until our lips were dry and sore. When she dropped me off, I felt so high that I couldn't stop grinning for hours.

lee - 7:25 PM
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Trip to Egypt, age 17



My father won a Fullbright grant to teach a political science class at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem. My family stayed in Israel for 11 months. For passover break, we made a trip from Israel to Egypt. 5 days before and durring the trip, we had to eat pepto tablets which constipated us and turned our poop black!



The bus was really hot in the poorly maintaned vehicle. While crossing Siani, we all had to get out so the bus could climb a 10 degree gradiant. The border crossing was guarded by soldiers that, my father pointed out to me, that had holes in their trowsers where pockets should be, but no pockets. The border guard was a prick, he kept saying "baruch hashem" every time he stamped a passport.
We checked into Ciaro's finest luxury hotel, and were careful not to ingest any of the water when we showered.



Te next day we took a trek out to the souk where I practiced haggling for the first time. I bought a little leather doll of a camel with a cloth arab rider, a small brass hookah, a cotton robe, and a riding crop ( which came in handy the next year the next year a t college ;-) )



The next day we went to Giza to check out the pyramids and the sphinx, whose size can't be explained unless you see them first hand. We went into a tunnel in one of the pyramids to see the burial chamber.



Then we took a train ride to Luxor, and on the train there was an amazing cocktail waiter who would kneel down in the middle of a bunch of tourists with a drink balanced on his forehead, and managed to keep the drink on his head by dodging the tourist's attempts to grab the drink.



Luxor was a huge temple with elaborate ad colorful hieroglyphics which our tour guide explained as a revelation that upper and lower Egypt should be united as one country.



The last thing I remember about the trip was eating squab and flavored rice on the banks of the Nile, thinking how lucky I was.

lee - 7:02 PM

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Tuesday, May 17, 2005

 
Here are a few things I remember from when I was in fifth or sixth grades...

concerto: I took up the violin in fifth grade, my last year of grade school.
I remember that we had put 'frets' on the neck of the istrumment made out of rubber bands, and we played off of sheet music that resembled guitar tableture than real sheet music.

I had a vague idea that next year I was going to be going to Kinewa middle school the next year, but this was before the fifth grade orientation, so it haden't occored to me that next year I was going to be bussed to a school miles away from my home. My elementary school was a neighborhood school positioned near the border with East Lansing. The value of the homes in the subdivision where most of the kids came from was much less than the subdivisions deeper into Okemos. We even had some kids from a trailer park hidden behind Tom's party store, one of whom's residents could easily have been mistaken for the "human beatbox" from The Fat Boys (he liked to make the "scratching" sound by inhaling and exhaling). At the end of the school year, I had my first introduction to the upper middle class residents of deepest Okemos. I only remember two things; the kids from upper middle class families seemedd to resent having to share the stage with the kids from my school. This is probably due to the fact that half of them had been in montisory school, and had been playing since age five, and they found the simple tunes the fifth graders from Wardcliff (my school) were able to play benieth contempt. The other thing I remember is that right before the curtain rose, I noticed that the backdrop of the stage was black, and, since I was wearing black dress pants, I would appear to the audience that I was a floating torso playing a violin. When I vocalised this thought to my neighbor, he cotemeptuously put me down for saying something so obvious.

Shop classIn sixth grade I made small birds made out of wood. I also got the shp teacher mad at me when I decided to emulate the martial artist's demonstration of strength by trying to break a thick piece of wood with a headbutt. It really hurt, and I was dizzy for quite a while.

Dracula Mask I made a plaster mask in my seventh grade media class, which I colored in with a little red and black magic marker so it sort of looked like a vampire. I also got ahold of some rince-off sparkly silver spray paint to put in my hair. Before going out to trick-or-treat, I slicked down my hair with vaseline and sprayed a line of silver paint from the center forehead to the back of my head, and put on the vampire mask, and a red cape. I remember 2 things from that evening. I took the spray paint with me, and I painted a 3 foot wide circled pentile in the street 1 block away from my house (a dumb move, since the paint would wash away with the next rain). I also remeber knocking on an Asian family's door, and bowing down low to show them my hair. A minute later it occored to me that this was probably inapropriate, since the guy answering the door might be offended by the gesture. The next day, I was horrified to discover that vaseline does not shampoo out of hair despite multiple rince and repeat.

lee - 6:28 PM

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Sunday, May 15, 2005

 
I spend most of my day at the computer, engaging in one of 4 activities:



1) Playing computer euchre against live players on Yahoo! games, constaantly trying to improve my rating,which increases when you win a game and decreases when you lose. zyou lose more points when you lose to opponents with significantly lower points than you have. This fact tends to create a situation in which players tend to play each other who are similarly ranked. The biggest problem this creates is when your rating dips below the rating a new player starts out with. Nobody will play with you unless you go to the "beginer lounge" where the level of play is poor. I usually listen to my mp3 collection when I'm playing



2) Reading the parsha ha shevuat, or the weekly torah portion. I usually read the haftorah, and sometimes some commentaries on the portion on the web. I keep telling myself I should ask my rabbi to help me get started on learning more advanced topics like talmud, but I think I'll wait until I finish reading the torah, which will be in the fall. Traditionaly, Jews study in small groups, but I haven't done that yet.



3) Reading the New York times or surfing wikipedia, a free online encyclopedia. Today, I've been learning all about spices. The site even tells you if a spice is mentioned in the bible, and in which verse. Here's an example:


Isaiah 28:27



Caraway is not threshed with a sledge,

nor is a cartwheel rolled over cummin;

caraway is beaten out with a rod,

and cummin with a stick.


I fail to see the modern social relevance for this and a lot of the other parts of the bible, but aparantly one of the rewards of heavan is the revelation of all the secrets of the torah.



4) scouring the Internet for movies containing tribadism. I like brunetes
on a bed the best.

lee - 4:45 PM

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Wednesday, May 11, 2005

 
I've always had what might be described as an occational "irresistable urge" to write on classroom desks in pencil. It started for me in the eighth grade in french class. My friend Eric and I had just started a heavy metal band called "The Satanics" (rejected band names included "AOT" [Afterbirth On Toast) and "Bile Means"). Incidentally, that's the reason I first picked up an electric bass; Eric already played guitar. Back to desk grafiti. In eighth grade I wrote a huge "Saten Rules" on the desk. When someone pointed out to me that I had misspelled the dark lord's name, I eraced the decoration with my spit.

Much later in my failed attempt to get a second bachelors degree in audiology at Michigan State, I felt the compulsion again. I wrote "you will beg for death" and "rats will engourge upon your tounge" I felt embaraced when some female students read my handiwork aloud and said "real mature" sarcastically.

lee - 7:44 PM

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Monday, November 15, 2004

 

I'd take it back when I said that I'm am never scared in my nightmares.

I was riding top speed on a motorcycle evading someone who is chasing me. There was an exit to a ramp that I was going to take, but I missed the exit and ended up crashing right into an overpass, and my motorcycle burst into flames. I didn't feel any pain, but I casually noted to myself that I was on fire. Later on in the hospital, my friend from college Larkin Hood, was standing next to me in my hospital bed. She said, wow, your back looks just like one of those giant pork rinds you sell on your web site!

She then proceeded to peel off the entire back of my body's skin, at which point I screamed in terror.


lee - 10:38 AM

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Sunday, October 10, 2004

 
I'm never scared in my nightmares, no matter how bad they get.

I've had a series of dreams recently , that I think are somehow connected to each other. In the first set of dreams, I am hanging out with two of my friends , who lived in Mary Markly hall with me during my freshman year of college. This was during my sophomore year in school, when my friends, who were a year older than me, lived in the Zeta Psi fraternity house. This house was easily regarded as the " animal house" on campus, but they had legendary parties , where instead of surveying the worst beer and imaginable, tequila, nitrous oxide , and bong hits were served. The first time I ever saw anybody used cocaine was at a Zeta Psi party.

One of the students that I didn't know who was a member of Zeta Psi was an outlaw chemist , who did some research on an obscure drug that was popular for a short time in the 1970s in Siberia called methacathadone. I dream that I was hanging out with my friends Dan Harbold and Steve Martin (yes that really was his name) in a room at the fraternity house. They were chopping up the lines of this drug and snorting it on the coffee table of the room. Suddenly, the mood changed dramatically; Dan and Steve started sitting very close to me on the couch and one of them put their arm around me. I didn't like the way things were turning out, and tried to get up to leave. Steve pounced on me and squashed me underneath them.

The next night, there was a party at the cooperative house I lived in when I was going to school at the University of Michigan.



Nakamura

The only thing I remember about the party were the following things:a guy named Jeff Frick (who strangely enough,I met five years later at Lotus) was setting up the beer taps , so tha the keg was in the basement, but the tap was in the living room. We were surveying Newcastle Brown ale, which is an awesome beer, IMHO. My friend , who ended up joining the Navyas a nuclear machine in a submarine, Greg Holmes,was at the party with me.I must've told him about the bad experience I had with the Zeta Psi people the night before because , when I pointed out one of the people in the fraternity , who would come to our party that night , all of the set and he started fighting with them, using some sort of kung fu technique that I didn't know he had. . I remember he and beating up at least four of the Zetas before he came to a guy I know who actually lived in the co-op, but was also a member of the fraternity as well. His name was Steve Binkerowski, and it turned out that he new some kung fu as well, so it took about five minutes for Greg to beat up Steve.

Then next night, Greg and I were handcuffed together in a very awkward position at a police statio in Ann Arbor. They had us on the ground naked in such a way that our butt were in each others faces. One of the police had a shotgun, and pointed it a Greg's toes, and pulled the trigger. Then he blew my toe off. Then in another cop put on a rubber glove it started fingering each of our butt's until we crapped in each others faces.

I think the last part of the dream took place because of some problems with my bowel program that I will not going to here.



lee - 11:54 AM

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Friday, April 23, 2004

 
Erotic Nightmares

According to my urologist my body does not produce enough testosterone. You wouldn't know that from looking at the top of my head, which is getting so sparse that it is reminding me of a desert landscape. Anyways, my doctor, Dr. Johnson (a great name for urologist, don't you think?) Prescribed me topical testosterone gel to rub on my arms every morning. The only affects I've noticed so far are the following weird dreams:

Dream one:
this scene starts off with me in my room working on my computer and my father in his office. My mother has either long since died or moved out on us. A stocky , middle-aged blond curlyhaired Polish looking woman wearing an apron is dusting in the hallway. She opens my door and sits on the bed and beckons me to join her. We start kissing, and I end up eating her pussy. With my head buried down there, I'm horrified to discover that the cleaning lady has undergone a metamorphosis, and has become a giant poodle. I felt my erection withering away as I'm looking at her leg, which is covered with black curly fur and has one of those ankles that you see in a dog. Suddenly my father bursts in, tells the cleaning lady that she is fired, and slaps me hard across the face.

Dream two:
I was feeling a sense of deja vu, is if I had had this dream before, but I imagine myself as a 13-year-old in a locker room in the middle school. Some of the girls and school wanted to be cool, and the way they thought they could be cool would be to change after gym class in the boys dressing room. I remember sneaking peeks of the girls getting dressed and undressed, while working my way towards the whirlpool. I got into the whirlpool, and two women in the in their 20's, one blond and one brunette, came into the whirlpool with me. They told me that they were marketing a new candy bar to the middle school market. Then there brunette got on top of me and I went into her. Although this sudden the gym teacher burst into this scene and sprayed us all down with cold water.

lee - 6:28 PM


Saturday, June 28, 2003

 
Dream

It was 3:00 AM and I was typing something up on a really old computer (I think it was my dad's first computer, a Compaq with a monochrome amber monitor). I was having problems with the alignment on the word processor program ; all the text was in the left hand portion of the screen. I tried to use the menu items but that didn't work. Suddenly a guy I was friends with in middle school (who was so blonde that people often yelled at him on the street saying "hey albino!") woke up and told me "watch out for the farts, especially near the fridge" I said "I'm sorry I didn't even know you were here" then I decided I wanted a Hawaiian Punch so I got up and slid down a staircase to the living room where I saw a Pepsi machine with its door open and my mom was sitting on a couch watching TV. I told her she should call the pepsi company and have them fix it because the sodas would soon get warm. She responded that she couldn't because she was glued to the TV. I then hit a button for a Hawaiian Punch but nothing came out, so I opened the door to get one but there were all sorts of containers in there with different caps.

lee - 1:47 AM


Tuesday, June 17, 2003

 
Incontinence

Most people, with the exception of scat fetishists, don't think about their bowel or bladder functions unless they get a kidney infection or are constipated or something. People like me who have Spinal Cord Injuries live in another world altogether. I've been adjusting to the fact that I've become increasingly incontinent over the last year. I used to be able to hold enough urine to create a stream that lasts 30 seconds; now I'm lucky to get to 10 without wetting myself. I also was prescribed a bowel program by my Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation doctor which involves a rectally inserted suppository to flush out my bowels every night. I haven't been sticking to that program and have had occasional bowel accidents. You get to know your shit on a whole new level if you're incontinent. It sticks to everything and stinks. My parents have been cleaning up after me and it makes me feel guilty when they get involved. l now wear protective disposable undergarments which can usually keep the shit from seeping into the pants. Nobody can imagine the anger repressed when the body is violated this way. They say people with disabilities are so bitter. I dare anyone to have a smiling countenance when their pants are full of wet foaming poo.

lee - 9:59 AM

 
Yahoo lets you put things that you're interested in in your public profile, along with your picture, your voice and favorite websites. One of my interests is cheese, which is sort of tragic since I'm lactose intolerant :-( Anyways, it also lets you find other people who are online who share your interests. I've been conducting an online poll to ask people what their favorite cheese is. As of now the results are:

swiss
cheddar
white american
american
brie
fake cheese sauce
cheddar
double-cream brie
asiago
munster
colby
swiss
provalone
brie
mozerella
kuchi
spicy jack
parmesian
munster
queijo de serra
monterey jack
munster
swiss
smoked gouda
feta
swiss
parmisan
american
cheddar
colby jack
jack
parmesan
blue
fumunda
cheshire
american
jack
blue
munster
cheddar
cheddar
super sharp cheddar
sharp cheddar
Wensleydale
Double Glouster
string cheese
muenster
provalone
port wine cheese ball
parmasean
mozzerella
havarti
provalone
swiss
blue
brie
provalone
Havarti
harlech
cheddar

I'm not sure what I'm going to do with this list; maybe use it in a database class when I start school again.

I talk to my cheese friends about whatever is on their profiles, and I've expanded my music library by talking to them.

lee - 8:21 AM

 
I almost got killed by a the Irish Republican Army when I was 12; here's the story: Me, my mom, dad, and my sister, who must have been 10, were walking thru Regent's Park after getting our lunch at the Star of India Restaurant in London. There was a bandstand there, and the band was a Brittish military band, which was about to play. It was up to me if we were going to watch the band play, or take the underground to Tussard's Wax Museum, where I heard they had a wing dedicated to the torture devices in the Tower of London. Heather, my sister, wanted to hear the band, but it was my turn to pick what to do. I chose the museum (of course) so we left the park. Right when we were leaving the park, passing thru some hedges, I heard a loud boom. I asked my dad what it was, and he told me it was a thunder clap. He looked scared. We rushed back to our hotel and hid in the basement listening to the radio. My mom bummed the first cigarettes she'd smoked in 20 years. It turns out 20 minutes later, the IRA bombed a military procession of horses, killing some, which outraged the animal-loving English.

lee - 7:58 AM

 
2 little wierd dreams

I had a dream that I was a long distance trucker. I think I was hopped up on speed. That's all I remember.

I had another dream where I was in my room at Nakamora CO:OP (where I lived for 3 years in college). There were milk crates everywhere full of CDs, VHS tapes and Vinyl LPs. I was digging thru them furiously looking for something pornographic. I didn't find anything.

lee - 7:46 AM


Monday, June 02, 2003

 
A look into my madness

Durring my last manic episode, I created a very strange web site that were all about the religeous delusions I was experiencing at the time. I've never documented what all the images meant to me at the time, so when I show the site to people they get confused.

The first thing you see on the page is an image called quick.gif which is an animated gif file that has a zero delay between images, so it's like a bunch of images going by in a blur. The first image in quick.gif is a picture of the word "CHAI" (life in Hebrew) with 2 cartoon children. The next image you see is a blue and white intertwined Star of David. After that, you see the logo for IBM (I worked at Lotus, a subsidiary of IBM at the time); you see the Lotus corporate icon next in the image. The next image that you see is a green circle with a cloverleaf and stem growing in to the middle of the circle. I think that this image represented "nature" in quick.gif. After the circle, you see a silver manorah. After that you see a pile of American Money (bills and coins). Next you see a picture of 2 IBM mainframe computers. After that you see a 5 pointed star (I don't remember what that means). Next you see a bunch of tourists walking next to a miniature replica of the Biblical Temple in Jerusalem. After that you see a cartoon Torah. Then you see a complex green symbolic image that I use later in the page that I'll explain later. The next thing you see is the same green circular image surrounded by 12 Warner Brothers cartoons. I was obsessed with the Warner Brothers cartoons at the time and thought that they somehow were symbolic of the Chinese Zodiac.

So what did this all mean? I believed that I was the future leader of a Jewish Cabal that would bring about the Messianic Age, the construction of the Third Temple using Lotus Software, IBM Hardware and an international database of people's Chinese Zodiac signs. You're not just born in the year of the Monkey; you're also born in the month of an animal, day of an animal and hour of an animal. I was born in the year of the dog, the month of the rooster, the day of the monkey, and the hour of the goat. I believed if we (the Cabal) had a list of everyone's zodiac signs and which part of the Torah they would have read on their bar/bat mitzvas, we could maximize their human potential and optomize the perfection of the universe. I was also obsessed with a line in the Old Testament about the Tower of Babel that said "If the people of the world all spoke one language, they can do anything". I believed that the internet itself was becoming self-aware and that the INTERNET was the MESSIAH.

The next thing you see in the web page is an online poem that is an expansion of the Jazz Standard "swinging on a star". That song mentions the animals mule, fish, and monkeys in the song's verses. I added rat, cat, hare, snake, horse, sheep, rooster, dog and pig verses to round out the chinese zodiac. I put images that flashed next to some of the verses to spice up the page a little. Next to the rat there was a picture of Sammy Gravano, and a flashing medieval portrait of the hanging of Judas, and a pile of cocaine. Next to the mule was a picture of a can of Coors Light, with a flashing image of Karl Marx and Jimmy Hoffa. Next to the cat verse there is a picture of Maralyn Monroe, with flashing pictures of catwoman and Charles Manson playing a guitar.

The next image was called zodiac.gif. This was an image based on the lable of a Maker's Mark whiskey bottle. It is a green circle with a large "S" an "I" and a "V". On the inside of the circle there are 6 triangles spaced 60 degrees apart, 4 cloverleafs spaced 90 degrees apart, a seven pointed star. In the middle of the circle is a marijuana leaf. On the outside there are 5 lightning bolts from the German SS logo, and 5 pyramids, all spaced 72 degrees apart. I wanted this symbol to be the icon for my new religeon. Surrounding the icon was Pinky and the Brain, the mule icon for the Democratic Party, Sylvester the cat, bugs bunny, Yosemite Sam, Marvin the Martian, the Tazmanian Devil, Elmer Fudd, Wacko from the Animaniacs, Tweety Bird, the logo for the airborne division of the Israeli Army, and Porky Pig. I thought that each of these represented an animal in the chinese zodiac, but I'm not sure which was which.

The next image you see on the web page is called evil.gif This was a Satanic Pentagram with Disney Charactors on each point of the star. Goofy flashed images of an SA helmet, and a wild boar. Mickey flashed images of a rat and Joseph Mengele. Donald Duck flashed the icon of the Hitler Youth Flag. Minnie Mouse flashed a picture of catwoman and Hitler. Walt Disney flashed pictures of a cobra and a Hitler Youth child with a gas mask. I still don't trust Disney.

The final image is a collection of Eye of Horus Fractions and Egyptian Number Heirogliphs. I was walking with a staff at the time. I believed that if I bounced the staff 3 times on the ground, then whispered the rest of PI (.14159265...) in ey of Horus fractions in Biblical Hebrew I would be able to cast incantations like Moses did in Exodus.

lee - 10:22 PM


Sunday, May 25, 2003

 
2 new dreams:

I was taking a test and on the third page of the test the was a question "How many times has Lee Abramson skipped this class?" I got real mad and ran up to the front of the classroom where the teacher was and started yelling at her, although I don't remember exactly what I said. I ran out of the classroom in embarassment and disgust.

The other dream was more disturbing, although I don't remember being upset while I was having it. It was a Friday afternoon at Zeta Psi fraternaty and I was hanging out with my friends Terry Mulligan and Steve Martin. They went to the freezer and took out what looked like thin wafers of sugar that were stacked up in a pile. I think it was metacathadone, a speedy drug that one of the chemistry majors at the house had whipped up that year. After a period of time the 2 guys started acting erratic with hand tremors and twitching eyeballs. Suddenly I had a bad feeling that the two guys were going to harm me in some way, and I remeber them talk to each other using a military-style one handed sign language. They dragged me to the living room where there was a couch, and they sandwiched me between their bodies and started smushing me. Later that evening I was in the restroom of the co op where I was living at the time. A guy came in and asked for a towel to hang himself with. I told him that to really make the party happening he should hang himself from the sculpture on the roof above the balcony so that everyone at the party would have to dodge around his dangling body as they entered the house. A bit later I was on the porch where the keg was, and Terry and Steve approached the party. I told them that they weren't fit for human company in their current condition, so they left with a slightly miniature version of Bob Dylan. All of the sudden the suicidal man fell from the roof over the balcony, but his body fell to the ground, with only his head and neck dangling from the roof. The only people laughing were me and Adolf Hitler, who was drinking Milwaukies Best from a plastic cup.

lee - 12:14 AM


Saturday, May 18, 2002

 
Police



I've had a few run ins with the police over the years, and I'll take the time now to remember as many of them that I can now before the Ambien kicks in.


The first time I got in serious trouble with the police was when a couple of neighborhood kids and I got busted for breaking in to a house on my street. I don't remember the name of the guy who organized the breakin but he lived in a rental house across the street from me and had a bad attitude and was always doing stupid shit like building a rocket launcher out of a tennis ball tube. The way that thing worked was by putting a drop of lighter fluid in the bottom of the tube and detenating it from a hole in the side of the can. The ball flew pretty far. Anyway, this guy found out that the Cranos, who lived on my block, hid a key to their house somewhere. So me, this guy and two of my next door neighbors broke in to the Crano home and made off with about $15 in coins. The police visited us each the next day and sat down with me, him sitting on our fireplace and me on the couch. He was upset because Mrs. Crano had decided not to press charges and therefore he had no case. We all had to go to Mrs. Crano's house appologise and hear her complain on how hard it was to make ends meet without her husband around. At that age (probably 11 or so) I didn't know what the phrase "ends meet" meant. I thought she was talking about plugging steaks together or something.


The next time I got in trouble with the police was when I was 18, durring the time between spring classes ending and finals beginning at the University of Michigan for my Freshman Year. I went home to study for my finals, but I was also smoking a lot of pot and cigarettes, both of which tend to make me manic. I got no sleep for at least a week, and I began having strange delusions that I was somebody who I wasn't and had powers of slowing down time like a wizard. I walked from my house to downtown East Lansing. I remember going to Pinball Petes and telling people my name was "Jared Rohde" at the pool tables. I got into a bit of trouble at a frat house, and the police came to pick me up in the back lot of an appartment complex. They were asking me some questions and I remember saying "I'll give you 5 bucks to leave me alone" and threw a five dollar bill on the ground in front of me. Fortunately for me the cop didn't arrest me or kick my ass, but instead drove me back home and told my mom that she'd better take me to a mental hospital. Two days later I was diagnosed bipolar.


The next time I was accosted by police was when I was in my Junior year at U of M. I was jamming in an appartment building in East Lansing, making music and recording it on my 4 track recorder system. When we got done at 2 in the morning, we started unpacking the musical gear and taking it down flights of stairs. Someone must have suspected foul play since it wasn't fall or spring so it wasn't the right time of year for people to be moving. A woman police officer came by and asked us to identify ourselves and ask us what we were doing moving stuff around late at night. Instead of complying with her request, I gave her some nasty attitude which hightened her curiosity. She let us go after 20 minutes of questions.


The only time I was actually arrested was in 1992. I was flipping thru a book of 1-800 numbers and calling them to make silly prank calls. For example, I called the Kelloggs information number and asked what year Tony the Tiger was created (1962). When I got to a company that sold blasting powder for mining and demoliton work, I got the idea to pretend to be a terrorist who was intending to use this companies black powder for bombs which he wished to blow up shopping malls with. I was complaining to the demolition supply company that the black powder didn't detonate and I was very dissatisfied. I also gave out my name as Errol Siegel, who was the guitarist in the band I was playing with at the time. For some reason I was angry at Errol that day. I had completely forgotten the prank until about 2 weeks later when I was at a rehersal in Errol's appartment and a membor of Ann Arbor's finest showed up to describe in detail the prank call. I was really scared and my guilt must have been easy to spot, so the officer took us one at a time into another room for an individual interview. When my turn came, I admitted that I had made the phone call. The officer agreed not to arrest me now as long as I promised to meet him downtown at headquarters. I made up a lame excuse to Errol about having to leave and drove over to the police station. I got there and was mirandized and fingerprinted. I wasn't detained, but I was given a time to appear before a judge. I got a haircut and put on a suit for my court appearance (which is apparantly the worst thing to do according to the book You are Going to Prison). What was particularly embarassing is that right about when my case was to be heard a class full of grade school kids walked into the courtroom to watch. "Great" I thought. The Judge asked me why I did it and I told him "I just lost it". This must have really pissed him off because he ordered me to pay a $600 fine, do 216 hours of community service and see a psychologist for 10 visits; which was twice the normal punishment for a similar complaint: "False Bomb Threat, D Mistemenar". I payed the fine, did the psychological visits with the therapist I was seeing anyways and did most of my hours of community service at the Housing Burou for Seniors, helping with their annual fundraiser. Since I did my hours so fast and got good letters from the places where I did my work, the False Bomb Threat was expunged from my record.


In 1996, when I was marketing credit cards to college students in Michigan and Texas, I had several little run-ins with the law. The company that I worked for, College Credit Card Corporation, sometimes told me to "crash" a school. This meant that they didn't have a official place for me to set up a table, and I was supposed to set one up anyways. I dealt with a bunch of University cops durring that job. At the University of Texas, I set up my little table in front of the library and an hour later I was surrounded by police, one of which looked very jumpy with her hand her gun. Another time, when I was driving home to Austin from El Paso in a rented car, I was pulled over for going 80 miles an hour on I 10. Apparantly El Paso is a major drug entry point, and long haired men in their 20s in rental cars fit the profile for drug couriers. I had to pee really badly and a rest stop was only a mile away, which was why I was speeding in the first place. The cops rifled thru my completed credit card applications and free giveaways for at least half an hour and then let me go.


The local police got to know me on a first name basis in the last year I was living in Texas. Once they came by when my transexual roommate overdosed on pills. Then I got 2 visits in 2 days when I told 2 different therapists that I was feeling suicidal. The last time I had a close encounter with a cop, I was on the phone with my sister when she told me that I didn't sound too good and I should call 911. On the ride over to Shoal Creek Hospital ( a shittier mental hospital I couldn't imagine ) I told the mental health deputy that I felt like I was like the guy in the movie Patton who had battle fatigue, because I couldn't calm down over the news about anthrax and terrorism.

lee - 1:24 AM


Wednesday, May 15, 2002

 
1975



My first memories were in 1975. My family was living in a duplex on Lake Lansing Road in E. Lansing at the time. The first distinct memory was at the playground at Pinecrest Elementary School. I was playing on the merry go round in the playground. There were Disney Cartoons painted on the top of the merry go round, and I liked to be on the Mickey Mouse corner. I remember what was probably an older kid making fun of me because of my desire to be on Mickey Mouse. They say that the first time you do something you remember it for the rest of your life. I think that must have been the first time I ever felt humiliated by a peer.



Another very distict memory was when I fell asleep on the schoolbus coming home from kindergarden. I remember this mostly thru my parents telling the story of the events. My parents would normally wait for me to return from the school bus. This time they saw the other kids get off the bus but there was no Lee. They called the school and asked if I was there, and they said I wasn't. I woke up at the end of the line and was driven back home by the bus driver.



My parents, feeling nostalgic for their Graduate School life at Berkely, rented an appartment south of campus where my dad spent a few hours a day writing the first draft of "Political Attitudes of Black Americans". We had to stay in hotels that had refridgerators because I was getting alergy shots which needed to be kept cold. We drove out there in a big blue Oldsmobile. I remember singing songs in the car; original compositions, not your typical car songs. One song my dad wrote was "Good Morning Sun" the only part I remember is
"Good morning sun, Good morning sun
some people worship you
Good morning sun, Good morning sun
I can't 'cus I'm a Jew...

and another song called "Goodbye I-80" which we sang on our way back to Lansing. I don't remember the words to that one.



When we got there me and my sister, who was a toddler at the time, liked to take rides on the elevator. One day we went to the top of the building which was called a "penthouse" but what was really a poorly fenced roof with railings that kids our size could easily slip through. My mom found me with my legs dangling off the side of the building and freaked out saying "don't move" and warned us never to come up to the penthouse again.


I had dinner at a family style Italian restaurant with my family and my dad's father. I remeber being very fidgity and kicking my legs around a lot. I thought I was kicking one of the table legs, but I was really kicking my grandfather!

When we were on the Berkely campus, a big black guy accosted us and said very loudly so that other people around could hear "that's the way it's supposed to be, with the daddy!My mom's reaction was at first happy but then very sad, thinking what events in a person's life would lead to such a declaration.

Finally, we had an encounter with Berkely's "Crazy Dave" a homeless campus fixture who wore overcoats in summer and preached about healthy food. This is what happened when he and my mom met:
Crazy Dave: "what beautiful children you have!"
Mom: "thanks Dave"
Crazy Dave: "beautiful, healthy children!"
Mom: "yes Dave"
Crazy Dave: "It's because you give them healthy food, right?"
Mom: "yes I do Dave"
Crazy Dave (reaching into his overcoat to pull out an orange): "I have some healthy food for them"
I saw the orange and grabbed for it but my mom pulled me away and got us the heck away from there.



I remember when we moved from the Duplex to the house on Linden Drive. The only thing I remember from the move is that my mom offered to buy one of the movers a coke when we were at a gas station. I asked her if I could have a coke too and she said no.

lee - 10:50 PM


Saturday, May 04, 2002

 
Lotus



Lotus is the last place I had a real job. Lotus is a subsidiary of IBM, with a history of being a hippie software company from Cambridge Mass. IBM bought lotus in a hostile takeover about a year before I started working there, and by the time I quit, IBMs rigid corporate culture had completely assimilated any free wheeling culture Lotus ever had. For example, we used to have a beer cart on Fridays, and people would occasionally be tipsy by 7:00 when we closed up shop. We had a building overlooking a beautiful section of Town Lake, running thru Austin. People used to take their pets to work. Then we were sucked into the main IBM buildings, which looked like pink granite versions of Borg spaceships on Star Trek. No more beer cart, no more pets at work. I've heard that now they got rid of the free coffee.


I'll quote from my resume which summarizes my tenure there:


Started off as an intern taking calls from end users on desktop products. I was promoted internally 3 times, and eventually became the Worldwide Leader of the Internet Products Team. My responsibilities included assigning incidents to analysts on my team, writing and editing Technical Documentation, handling the most difficult issues and dealing with the most irate customers and big spenders at Lotus/IBM technical support call center. I also gave training seminars to other analysts, as well as sales and marketing teams.


I worked very hard at Lotus, often studying material at home to get better at taking calls. I took advantage of the free training they had available and passed all the certification tests to make me a Certified Lotus Professional. I had a good reputation as an analyst among my peers, management and Account Managers.


Eventually, though, I got bored with being a support analyst, and decided to try being an independent contract programmer. I took the first job offered to me in Austin which was working on the Tivoli (another IBM subsidiary) web site. I was in nasty depression at that time and I couldn't figure out what my bosses wanted me to do, so they terminated my contract after only 5 weeks. I haven't worked since then.


Sometimes I wonder if my brain has gone soft with all the inactivity since last summer. Good thing I'm only taking one class per semester this summer!

lee - 8:54 PM


Friday, May 03, 2002

 
Gym



I try to make it to the gym every other day. My family belongs to the Michigan Athletic Club, or MAC. It's one of the best gyms in the country. One of the best features is the warm water pool. It's usually heated to 86 degrees, which is a nice temperature. I do water aerobics every other visit; roughly twice a week. Working out in the water is the best way for me to exercise my legs, which are not strong enough for weight bearing exercise.


I use weights to train my upper body. I use the lifecycle machines mostly. Those are strictly mechanical, with a computer figuring out how much resistance you get.


The gym is the first place I ever went outside the house with my walker. At first I felt very self-conscious about going down to the weight room or the swimming pool with a walker, but now, I don't think about it at all. Nobody looks at you at the gym, there is no eye contact, even if you find yourself staring at someone, they don't look back at you. Lifting weights is a very task oriented procedure and people remain focused on whatever their next set is going to be.

lee - 2:01 AM


Wednesday, May 01, 2002

 
Rap


Most rappers brag about their schlong
Saying it's 18 inches long
But one thing remains well known;
I outmeasure Johnny Holms
When they see my dick most women cower
they sence my awesome phallic power
I can say with the utmost confidence
that my dick's a religeous experience
One thing you know is true
Once you've had Jew nothing else will do
Once you've had a circumsised man
You won't return to those who eat ham

lee - 10:27 PM


Monday, April 29, 2002

 
Falling



And I'm trying to get back and I'm trying to catch up but I don't have any luck on these legs of lead

Fritz Beer, "Legs of Lead"



I fell today at the gym. It wasn't the most painful or the most embarassing, just the most recent. My dad was very upset. Staff from the gym, which is connected to a medical clinic, rushed out and put me in a wheelchair, called an ambulance and had me checked out. I declined to be taken to the hospital. I didn't get to work out. The fall was due to a fault in my walker. I wanted to lock the wheels but the left wheel lock was slack so the walker fell forward and so did I. I remember knocking the wind out of me, feeling a bruise on my head and a scratch on my neck.

.

My legs are rather weak and I don't have much range of motion due to my spinal cord injury. I've probably fallen a hundered times since my stenosis started 3 years ago. Last summer, I was so afraid to walk that I didn't leave my house for months, living on delivery pizza and crawling from my bed to my couch.


The first time I fell was probably the worst. It was as if fate was informing me that now there was something new in my life and now is time to adapt. I was in the shower, and my feet slipped out from under me, and I broke the fall with my ribcage. I went to work, probably in a state of shock. When I finally went to the doctor the next day and got the x-ray report back, it turned out I had 7 broken ribs, and there was nothing they could do except perscribe vicodin. I took two days off and stayed high on that stuff, and it hurt every time I breathed for the next 6 weeks. I do remember having to sneeze once while I was at my desk and I howled in pain. I remember the people near my cube at Lotus say 'aww' when that happened. I actually liked working there at that time.
.


I must have have fallen 3 or 4 times at the airport. I remember once I fell down in Austin airport when a man helped me get back on my feet that I said "I always seem to fall at the airport" he said "at the airport, huh?" very worriedly. People get very upset when they see a human train wreck lying on the floor. I notice them staring. When I fall in places where lots of people are around it always seems that time slows down to a crawl, and I become a black hole of attention for the room; everybody is sucked into looking at me. This is even more true since my legs became spastic; when I fall these days my legs start spasming and kicking violently for a few seconds until I get control of them. Anyway, I never walk in the airport anymore. I always check my bags and then take the wheelchair from the beginning to the end, sometimes even out to my car. Once when I was carrying my laptop and another bag at Boston's airport, I slipped from the weight and broke my right ring finger on the way down. It's no fun starting a day of travel with a broken finger, believe me..


I hate falling at the mall the worst. I haven't been in a mall for at least 6 months. I fell at the mall in Austin in a book store knocking over a bunch of books. I was in a pissy mood, and when some guy stood over me presumably to help I said "enjoying the show?" I still feel bad about that. The last mall fall was durring my friend Eric's wedding weekend. We were there trying on our tuxedos. On the way back to the car, my feet cliped themselves and I landed face down. Eric was suffering from his Tourettes at the time and yelled "Jesus" and his tic vocalizations suddenly got a lot worse. I felt guilty for increasing his Tourettes tics..


The worst falls are the ones when I'm in a state of agitated depression. I remember once when I was about to decide to move back with my parents at the end of my stay in Austin I fell at a Radio Shack. I went to the Radio Shack because my portable phone kept running out of batteries, so I went to get a regular phone. I was very agitated, because I had just gotten back from a job interview at Providian, a credit card company. My job was to be calling people who were on the verge of delinquency and collecting payments from them before their card froze up. Considering that I was in bankrupsy myself, I knew I would feel guilty every time I picked up the phone. I've worked in crappy phone center jobs before, at MCI for example. It's what I like to call a "dog" job. I call it that because most of the people that work there call each other "dog"; even the white ones. It was shortly after that interview that I decided that I'd rather live at home and not work then work at a dog job. Anyways, I was in Radio Shack. I bought the phone, then lost my balance and knocked over a big display of stuff in the store. My first instinct was to freeze, lay on the floor, and tell the poor Radio Shack man to call the police so they could take me to a mental health facility. I was totally paniced. It's hard to drive when your brain is telling you that you're under a threat and have to run to somewhere safe. By that evening I wasn't able to fill out an admittance form at the mental hospital because I couldn't remember my name..


There are 3 ways to react to a fall from an emotional standpoint. You can laugh at it, the way that the guys in the band I was in did when I fell, you can howl about it, or you can take the feelings and swallow them. Unfortunately when you fall in public, you usually end up taking the third option, and end up feeling depressed, sad and angry..


A lot of my falls could have been prevented if I had just been willing to buy and use the type of adaptive devices that were appropriate for my level of disability. For the longest time I didn't use a cane at all, long after I started to need one. When I needed two canes, I insisted on using just one. Somehow using one cane was cool, using two was not. My rate of falling diminished tremendously when I started to use two crutches or a walker.

lee - 4:32 PM


Sunday, April 28, 2002

 
3 Wierd Dreams



1) I'm in my room (the room I live in now; my subconcious has finally caught up to the present) looking at my bed from my chair. A huge spider with furry legs at the foot of the bed is approaching another smaller spider which is on my pillow. The bed is made and the blankets on top are yellow (both things never true). The large spider speeds up its approach as it gets closer to a sprint when it climbs the pillow. I see the spiders fucking and I feel no fear. Later the spiders disapear and I ask aloud "where's the big spider" my father's voice answers "probably getting eaten by the little one." I don't see my father and I don't expect to. I start to see a stream of baby spiders coming out from under the bed and I decide it's time to do something about these spiders. In dreams as well as reality, I hate sqashing spiders; I opt for chemical warfare. I get a can of Raid Wasp and Hornet killer and start squirting it in little holes in my bed. I shoot at spiders and hunt for the source of the spiders until I wake. Actually, it isn't me doing the Raid shooting, it's my dad; but it's more like a ghost is doing the Spider Hunt, because I don't see the shape of his body as he kills spiders. It's more like there is this ethereal presence doing the killing at my command from the chair on the other side of the room; my Golem doing the work I'm afraid to do for me.



I have no idea what this dream means. I remember feeling very calm upon waking from it.



2)As often happens in my dreams, they start off in West Quad; the dormitory I stayed at durring my Sophmore year at the University of Michigan. This was a particularly bad year for me regarding the progress of my mental illness; I was being perscribed an increasingly heavy dose of tricyclic antidepressants along with Lithium which gave me an awful hand tremor. I was also drinking and smoking pot. The lithium didn't do much for controlling my mood swings, and the antidepressants (as well as the weed) was fueling my ups and downs. Anyway, it was a rough time for me, and maybe that's why so many of my dreams start off in that dorm room 12 years ago.



This time, my roommate (the roommate always changes) was a guy I lived with for about a year in 1998, right after I broke up with Deborah Huff and when I started having an increasingly spastic gait (later to be discovered to be cervical stenosis). This guy was a professional tree trimmer. He was also a Rush Limbaugh dittohead, who had on his desk a plaque certifying him as a graduate of Limbaugh's Academy of Conservative Studies. He had 3 kids who lived in Waco, about 100 miles North of Austin. He didn't see them very much. He owned a blue Suburban and towed behind it a large trailer. I remember him getting very upset when there were food stains on his microwave that he had in the kitchen, leaving a note on the fridge expressing his displeasure.



I remember we were at the Briarwood mall in Ann Arbor, Michigan, shopping for clothes. We weren't walking thru the store, more like gliding thru it as if our feet had rollerblades on them. Then we were in his truck. I became adjitated and frightened when I realized that we weren't heading back to the dorm, but were heading out into the country. A police car pulled us over and I remember telling the officer that my roommate was kidnapping me and that I needed help. That's when I woke up.



I don't have a clue about this one either.



3) Perhaps the wierdest of the dreams. I don't know when or where it was supposed to have been, maybe the present maybe the past. I had 7 black and white colored boxes from Urban Outfitters all stacked vertically in the corner of my room. I started to open the boxes and throw the contents of the boxes onto the floor. Instead of clothes, brightly colored toys came out, including a ball with suction cups on the outside of it about a foot across; when you shook the ball it made a strange sound that I can't remember but wish I could. Justin Yunke was in the dream. Justin was in a band I played in between 93 and 94 called Violet Wine. He was the drummer. He was a very crafty guy, building a switch panel to power our lightbar and hooking it up to a sensor on his kick drum so that the lights would change with the tempo of our songs. Anyway, the plan was to decorate the cieling of my room with the brightly colored Urban Outfitters toys, and I asked Justin, who had just finished doing the same thing, what was the best way to hang things from the cieling. He told me to use a staple gun or thumb tacks.

lee - 4:34 PM


Friday, April 12, 2002

 
Sorry for not updating the blog for so long, but there hasn't been very much new in my life and I know nobody wants to read a page about a guy who sits around all day and plays video games :-) But a whole lot of things have happened and I'm excited to have an opportunity to share this with you; and away we go!



I had a vivid dream last night probably stirred up by something my mom said to me the day before. She was talking about how she has problems driving on the expressway by herself. She never knows which exit to take, and sometimes ends up miles past where she should have exited. Anyways, in the dream she was driving and I was in the passanger seat. We were heading South on Mopac (a street in Austin: I guess my subconcious still thinks I live there) and traveling in the left lane. My mom exited on a left hand exit a long time before the proper exit she should have taken. She then tried to slow down because there was a light in front of us and it was red. She then slammed on the breaks and the car started to spin out of control and ended up making a 720 degree spin, finally stopping right behind a truck. I'll have to ask my new psychologist what he thinks about this dream.



I fired my old psychologist, Dr Taylor. I didn't like him from the start. On the first day he handed me a sheet which summed up in one page the entire book "Feeling Good"; the cognative psychology handbook. Cognative psychologists believe that distorted thinking patterns cause the feelings of worthlesness and hoplessness, and that the cure is to write down whatever thought is bugging you; identify which pattern of distorted thinking you're using and then write down a challange the negative thought. Sort of like giving yourself a written affirmation every time you think that you suck or that you're worthless. His handout, entitled "Common Unrealistic Beliefs" has a list of sentences that you should make sure to challange if you catch yourself feeling that way. For example




Demand for approval: I must be loved, approved of and respected by the significant people in my life, and if not, it's awful.




Perfectionsim: There is a right, perfect solution to every problem and I must find it, so I have to be certain and be in control



So, I figured, this guy wants to do cognative psychology with me. Well I've tried that and it doesn't work for me too well. As you'll recall, I'm bipolar, and the cause of my depressions are chemical, not due to flawed cognitions. I read "Feeling Good" and it ended up with me feeling frustrated. The sessions with Dr. Taylor were tedious. We would talk about what I did durring the last week and what I planned to do in the next few weeks. Since I had so little going on in my life, I'd run out of things to say 10 minutes into the session and we'd spend the rest of the session chatting about current events. I'm sure he thought that was OK because I had been very disturbed by the events of 9/11/01 and I had become manic watching the news a few times shortly afterwords. Another thing that drove me crazy about Dr. Taylor is that he would always refer to items of interest in my life as "pieces". For example, when I was interested in attending Torah study with my dad at Temple Shaary Tzedek, he called that my "bible study piece". I'd get so irritated with him saying that, that I'd tune out for 10 minutes after I said it, wanting to get up and leave. Once, I shit my pants right before the session (I have a spinal cord injury, as you'll recall) and after a moderate attempt at cleanup, I sat in his office feeling crusty shit all over my legs. I thought he might ask if I want to cancel the session, but he didn't. I guess I should have been more assertive. The last straw for me was the last session, when I couldn't get a straight answer out of the man as to weather or not marijuana should be legalized. We talked about it for at least 80% of the session, and he just gave me the party line about the effects of pot on people's motivation, etc. Having strong feelings on the issue (contribute to NORML) I wrote him off, got a referral from my best friend's dad, and moved on.


Things are very promising with my new therapist, Dr. Donneson. He has years of clinical experience, and he did his post doctoral clinical work at Harvard. He sometimes teaches at MSU. He uses a psychoanalytic approach, but without the hypnosis and other mumbo jumbo. He really seems to have an understanding of the issues I'm dealing with right now. I took in my computer and showed him all the pieces of the website. To my delight, he told me that he'd looked at the Twisted Texas Tour and even jumped off on some of the links, including the world sex guide (an online listing of reviews of prostitues by johns). He asked me today where he could find the Pork Rind Porn. I hope he enjoys the visit!



I have officially been accepted to Michigan State University to study Audiology and Speech Sciences with the goal of becoming a Speech Therapist. I am taking classes this summer to knock out the requirements for one of the classes. I'm taking Linguistics and Developmental Psychology.



I also volunteered at the MSU Artificial Language Lab. This is an amazing place, where they help people so severely disabled that they can't speak and can only move one part of their body to speak. I may do some programming for them. I told the director, Dr. Eulenberg, that I could code Visual Basic, which isn't too far from the truth, as I am a cracker jack Lotus Notes Programmer.



The latest development is that I'm learning to play bridge, and have become my father's bridge partner. I'm still not too good at it, but I really like it, and I can see how bridge is really superior to spades and hearts and euchre.



Well folks, that's all for now, I promise to write more frequenty, at least next time I have a wierd dream!

lee - 1:15 AM


Sunday, January 27, 2002

 
I'm sortof excited to finally hear from my cousin Jeffery, the son of my Uncle Fred, my dad's little brother who killed himself a couple of days ago. Since Fred wanted nothing to do with Jeffery and had absolutely no contact with him, it was really impossible for us to try to find him until now. I lost an Uncle but gained a Cousin. Funny how things work out that way. I talked with him on the phone. Apparantly he shares Fred's fondness for kissing people on the nose, and is into frisbee golf and hang gliding. He's going to school at Berkely to learn more about public policy. He's part of a dying breed of Americans who believes that government can still affect positive social change.

My sister is in California with my dad. They're making sure he doesn't crack up while he's out there, and Heather, my little sister by 3 years, is the only one in our family whose up for that kind of job. I got the job of holding down the fort and taking care of Bruno, my darling 4 year old Boxer dog. I watched TV with my mom for a while today. We watched the HBO Movie "Dinner with Friends" and another movie. She was really jumpy, running to the phone when it rang to confirm family arrivals in Oakland for the funeral tomorrow. I don't think she payed much attention to the TV, she's too wrapped up in our current family drama, of which we have an overabundance.

lee - 4:12 AM


Thursday, January 24, 2002

 
Not sure where to begin today.

My Uncle killed himself yesterday. The last time I met up with him, he was riding high with $3 Million in Rambus Stock, an intellectual property company he was about to retire from after only 5 years on the job at the age of 54. He was positive that the stock would double it's value in the next month or two, so he borrowed against the value of the stock he had so he could make even more than twice as much. He needed $6 million. The word was in the Bay Area that one simply can't retire until they hit that magic number. The stock actually lost 90% of its value, forcing Uncle Fred to take $100,000 in cash advances from his credit cards just to hold on to some of the stock and not get totally wiped out.

Uncle Fred was an aerobatics pilot when he wasn't making microchip software. Aerobatics is like ballet or maybe more like figure skating, except in a biplane. They give you a certain volume of airspace to do all your tricks in. He took me up in a two seater aircraft once when I was 22. It was like a rollercoaster ride that kept on going for 20 minutes. It was a lot of fun wearing a parachute, and I remember distinctly the instuction that if he had to bail out, there wasn't anything he could do for me and it was up to me to jump out of the plane.

I remember stories about Uncle Fred that endeared him so much to me when I was younger, and thought it was really cool to have the guts to just say whatever you wanted regardless of the social proprieties. Once he was shopping for clothes with my dad, before I was born. He didn't get any service for about 5 minutes. Then he yelled "can someone give me some service here" in the middle of a department store. What nerve! I could never do that. Another time before my parents met even, Uncle Fred went into a gas station and asked if there was a rest room. The attendant said there wasn't. So Uncle Fred went into the bay and peed against one of the pumps and drove off. I admired him for not caring what people thought about him, but my opinions changed as I grew older.

Uncle Fred had a kid when he was 24. He left the marriage 6 months after Jeffery, a cousin I know very little about, was born. He payed child support for 18 years but never visited once. My sister told me that when she mentioned Jeffery in front of his live-in girlfriend of 3 years, she had never heard of him. I think that if I had had a kid I would mention it to my significant other, but Uncle Fred didn't bother. I used to think of Uncle Fred as an older version of myself, or at least a role model for me to follow. I used to introduce my girlfriends to him. The last time, when I was with a Jewish girl, the last thing he said to me was "don't do anything I wouldn't do". He also said to me "children are a liability". He was not a sentimental man.

That's all I remember about Uncle Fred. Or at least all that needs to be said.

lee - 2:02 AM


Friday, January 18, 2002

 
Feeling pretty good today. I started the day after sleeping way too much the day before; so much so that I never got out of bed to take my evening meds. My mom is so used to me getting out of bed at 1:00 that she was overjoyed that I showed up at the breakfast table at 11:00. It's comforting to know I live in an environment where not too much is expected of me.

We only had one banana left. I decided to play a trick on her. She assigned me the task of slicing the banana. I sliced one bowl half of a banana with each slice about 3/8 inch thick and in another bowl I sliced them razor thin (or as thin as the not-very-sharp butter knife and not-very-solid banana would allow) I gave myself the bowl with the bigger pieces, all the while knowing that my mom would think I was giving her a better deal with the larger-appearing pile of banana slices.


I ate a probably too big bowl of unsweetened (out of sugar) shreaded wheat, two pieces of toast, coffee and orange juice. I think I'm going to keep drinking coffee after my meals to prevent my increasingly common napping after meals, which can stretch on for hours. The dothead psychiatrist at Shoal Creek Psychiatric Hospital told me that inappropriate sleeping is a bad idea, but I sometimes "forget" what the Psychiatrists tell me.


I spent the next two hours playing Yahoo Pool and Yahoo JTs Blocks (a puzzle game)


JTs blocks, Yahoo Pool and Yahoo Euchre are a very important part of my life these days. It's nice to know that there are 27,354 other people that are playing pool with each other in cyberspace. It justifies me being there, that's for sure. I particularly enjoy it when people start conversations. Normally it's just "gg" for "good game" or the occational "gs" for "good shot" but once in a while you get a trash talker or a lonely old man (you can tell that their an old man because the icon they choose to represent themselves; I am a dog; has whiskers) asking me where I'm from or something like that. I get the greatest kick out of someone playing Yahoo pool with someone at work. It reminds me of the greatest point of petty rebelion against the corporate world I ever achieved; a 6 week stint at Tivoli as a Lotus Domino consultant billing $40/hr and playing video games 6 hours a day. Manic Depressives don't like to play by the rules.


I was playing JTs Blocks today, however. That's because I was listening to Steven King's "Apt Pupil" on audio books, and JTs Blocks and Euchre are more mindless games than pool. You get really sucked into pool. After a couple of games with the same person you really start to hate them. I wonder how much hate is generated needlessly by those thousands of web users playing pool against each other. Probably enough to knock down a building. "Apt Pupil" was a pretty decent book, better than the movie. The kid has latent homosexual urges in the book that weren't touched on in the movie. I'm glad that Stephen King did a good job getting into the Nazi mind. My bankrupsy lawyer told me that the guy who did chapter 13s in Austin was "the kinda guy who'd put people into gas chambers." He shook with impotent rage as I presented the documents to get me out of $36,000 worth of credit card debt. He had a combover balding hairdo and wire rim glasses as I recall, but it was his rage I remember the most. What kind of sicko would become an executor for bankrupsies?


By 2:00 I had put my shoes over my sockless feet. Time for Physical Therapy! I was starting to enjoy the ladies down there. They were all very encouraging, saying "awesome" a whole lot. Better make that "Awesome!" with a capitol 'A'. Very cheerful. One of them says I look like Drew Carey with my Elvis Costello Frames. I may weigh 209 lbs but I know I don't look that fat. Still, how mad can you get at someone who is willing to stretch out your legs for you? It's been 3 years since my surgery, having taken out my 5th cervical vertebre and fused the 4th to the 6th with a piece of bone sawed from my hip. I've had a slow and steady decline in function since then, now using a walker to get around most of the time at home, using Lofstram crutches (the kind the comedian kid on South Park uses) sometimes. I move slow but I don't get tired. I sometimes beat my companion down the street because they stop to talk to somebody (a tattoo artist or a tarot card reader). I don't stop for that stuff anymore.


It turns out I've gained 30 degrees of mobility in my ankle joint since I started Pt 3 weeks ago. I couldn't have seen that by myself. Stretching 5 times a day is really helping, but I don't expect I'll ever be able to walk without crutches again.


I get back home and tell mom the good news, she praises the Lord and seems overjoyed. Her relationship with God has suffered as my health declined over the last 3 years. It hurt me deeply when she told me she wasn't lighting shabbos candles anymore. I told her I wanted her to, and since I've been home, she has been. She doesn't sing the blessing though. She says it.


I retire to my room, play JTs blocks from 3:00 to 6:00, occationally playing .midi files on my computer using Cakewalk Home Studio (a music recording software package) to be a "player piano" to tell my Yamaha keyboard what to do. Some of the stuff sounds pretty damn good. My best friend Eric insists that I do an Orchestral Arrangement of SMD


Walkin' down the street, the light was red she said
Gimme five bucks and I'll give you head
I said OK you've got a deal
'Cause horny is the mood in which I feel


Chorus:


SMD SMD SMD,
Suck my
SMD SMD SMD
Suck my


We went into the alley and I dropped my pants
Now's the time for some oral romance
I whipped my one eyed willie out of my fly
She says "looks good just don't cum in my eye"


repeat chorus


She bent down to her knees
Excited, I pleaded "hurry up, please"
She wrapped her warm tongue around my big rod
For a moment there I felt Closer to God


repeat chorus


Regretfully the passion was said and done
since it was oral, there was no risk of a son
I pulled my ten incher from out of her throat
and handed that bitch her five dollar note


Chorus.


We had one of my mother's new dishes tonight. Roast chicken covered in Chi Chis Salad dressing ( a tomato vinegrette). It's not bad at all, and the veggies on the side made it a yummy meal all around. I drank my usual diet coke. My mom wanted to know why BBC world news was still on. We had already seen the pictures of the machine gunned Bat Mitzvah service in Israel. The new round of terrorism in Israel really disturbed me lately. I spent a year there after my Junior year of high school (they let me out of high school as long as I took government by correspondence) and even then the Palestinians were blowing up busses. I rode the bus every day.


I didn't watch TV today. I usually watch about 3-4 hours per day. Today, I felt chatty. Maybe I'm becoming hypomanic. I'll take my zyprexa tonight like a good boy. I always take my meds. After dinner I went thru my rolodex to call some people. After 31 years of life I have a lot fewer people I can call at the end of the day than I think I should. I didn't keep in touch with any of my high school or college friends. Now there's just Eric, Corrine (my first girlfriend, who is good for a laugh once every 3 months) and some people from Austin, where I spent the last 6 years. This time, I reached my old friend David Feldman, a salesman who just sold a domain name for $6000 today. I worked with him a short while right after I graduated from University of Michigan, attempting to sell long distance. He's doing fine. Making enough money to live on but not puting anything away. Loves his new Lithuanian wife. Shows genuine concern for my sister who saw the second building collapse in New York City. Doesn't seem to judge me that I'm 31, live with my parents, and haven't held a job for 6 months. I like Dave.


lee - 12:32 AM

 

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This is a cross between a diary, an autobiography, and a dream log... a great tool for any future psychohistorian (as is the rest of this site, I guess). Feel free to comment.