the year 1999, I believe. I could be wrong. I kinda missed that shit. geezus. yeah.

I'm fucking pissed. this is problematic because you, the reader, probably know nothing about me and (this is assuming you care enough to take in more than a slightly topical view of this page here) therefore would require all sorts of back story, at least in this instance, for me to explain to you exactly why I am pissed and what factors brought me to this mental place. which, frankly, I am too fucking tired to consider doing right now so you get nothing like that, other than the simple declaration that I am in fact pissed, and that the reason I am unable to explain my pissiness is, in and of its own right, fucking pissy.

anyway I need a fucking website. a personal goddamn website. I just quit my job at CTNY where I made websites like ostomyvillage.com (which I have not directly linked so as to spare your gastric contents) and now it's just about time that I got back to the old bullshit I was pulling before. we shall see. this diaryland thing will certainly make a nice transitional, but only if the powers that be can get the backend scripts to quit escaping curly-brackets symbols and thus keep my javascript from breaking.

like I said, we shall see.

I missed this, the nighttime blathering on. for sure. I get a kick out of the fact that no one in the world besides myself knows of this pages' existence. awwww yeah.

plus I can't wait till this weekend. I'm going to provincetown, where there is a beach. I could use some quality beach right now. good god. blagh.

anyway I'll get back to this shit later. you watch, motherfucker. I mean it this time for real.