SeeGeePee's Xanga

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Tue, 13 Nov 2007 17:47:24 GMT

I'm not back.

Sorry.

~ c

HFUFWAMORIYLSGRAAOOCCH 2: Electric Boogaloo

Fri, 08 Dec 2006 00:48:55 GMT

WHA:
Seegeepee's Second Annual "Hooray For Us Fat White (And Maybe Other Races If You're Lucky) Spoiled Greedy Rich Americans And Our Obscene Consumer-Culture Holidays" partytronomatic!

BEH:
Friday, December 22, 2006 at 7:00pm

ZUHHHHH:
The bachelor-sized but mighty Seegepartment (be it ever so humble)
La Grange Park, IL
Email or msg for directions:
seegeepee@yahoo.com

WTF?:
Come one, come some for a night of holiday magitude and wonderflop!!!
You know how we do: food, drink, karaoke, video games, and the Star Wars That Should Never Have Been...
Bring a White Elephant gift to trade. A White Elephant is a cheap-as-free piece o' shite that you don't want and, chances are, neither will the recipient. This was Jacey's idea.

HFUFWAMORIYLSGRAAOOCCH 2: Electric Boogaloo. It may not be the scene...but you wouldn't know the difference anyway, loser.

And His Social Life Was Forever Consigned to The Realm Of Myth

Fri, 24 Nov 2006 18:30:57 GMT

Currently Gaming
Final Fantasy XII
By Square Enix
see related

Can't Talk. Busy.

Note To Self:
need i.v., catheter.

maybe Triscuits.

Prodigal Son of a Bitch!

Sun, 19 Nov 2006 22:32:27 GMT

I know, I know, I've been neglectful. I have no valid excuse for my conspicuous(?) absence from the Xangosphere these last couple of weeks. All I can offer by way of explanation is that I just haven't felt motivated to assemble my random thoughtbubbles into coherent communiques, of late. Every blogger goes through such waxings and wanings, so I don't expect much in the way of judgement for this alone. What may be received with less tolerance (or possibly just apathy) by you staunch remaining hadcore Xanganites is the revelation that circumstances have conspired to leave the future of this blog highly in doubt, pending a move to a brand new domain name.

Random Critical Guy says:

"CIRCUMSTANCES HAVE CONSPIRED"? WHEREFORE THE CORPORATESQUE PASSIVE DOUBLESPEAK, DOUCHEBAG? FEELING OVERWHELMED BY THE SHEER VOLUME OF READERSHIP LATELY HAHA? OR IS SOMEONE HOLDING A GUN TO UR HEAD FORCING U TO BELIEVE THAT UR POINTLESS PURPLE PROSE INTERSPERSED WITH OCCASIONAL HASTILY PHOTOSHOPPED FARCE NEEDS A FANCY NEW HOME? PARDON ME GUY, I GOTTA GO SEE WHETHER ITS POSSIBLE TO GIGGLE HYSTERICALLY WHILST SIMULTANEOUSLY RETCHING IN DISGUSTAPPOINTMENT. OH AND BTW GUY, TOO MUCH VITRIOLIC ALTER-EGO SELF-EFFACEMENT REEKS OF A DESPERATE PLEA FOR VALIDATION. JUST A THOUGHT. KLOVEZBYEBYEZ0RZX0X0

RANDO-*ahem*-Random Critical Guy, all hail his triumphant 11th-hour return*, raises a valid question. No, I haven't taken on any delusions of grandeur for this meaningless little blog. I'm saving that for the germ of an idea for a novel or novels that's lately been firing around the ol' synapses. What has happened, is that I've received the generous early Christmas gift of a domain name (and accompanying hosting) from some close friends, who apparently hold higher aspirations for me in this regard than I myself did. We'll see how the new site pans out; I'm tentatively planning on making the move official for the New Year (arbitrary, but might as well).

*Wow, One-year-ago-Me reads pathetic to Now-Me.

In the meantime, enjoy some more trademark random shit:

Powers of Ten
This 1977 short film was referenced as a primary source of inspiration by one of the co-creators of Google Earth (another co-creator cited Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash).

The Simpsons version:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yCfDRvDWid0

NOLA-ween And Some Bonus Rambling

Fri, 03 Nov 2006 22:20:07 GMT

One thing I've been rediscovering about myself over the past few months:

I sometimes have an annoying tendency to misinterpret female friendliness as flirtiness, and "friendly flirtiness" as one step away from an outright proposition. Meanwhile, any serious flirting and or propositioning that may actually be taking place in the subtext of a given interaction is just as likely to be completely lost on me. Maybe it's just that I've become so wary of the former handicap, that the latter manifests itself as some sort of internal safeguard. Either way, it is, at times, a maddening condition to live with.

Some of the blame for this intersex "colorblindness" can be laid at the feet of my socially-bereft adolescence. I had a female friend or two in my early years (up until I was 8 or so), and hesitantly began to pick up the habit again around 18. Now, if you do the math, you may detect a tiny chunk of timeline in between wherein I was completely and utterly without benefit of any deep or meaningful interaction with female peers, and that, unfortunately for me, this period coincided with the same stretch of years wherein a good portion of one's foundational socialization usually takes place. I suspect that this has done much to cripple me in the ways of women. Of course I've had several short- and long-term romantic relationships in my adult years to date, which have worked out to varying degress of "success", however you'd choose to define that. But, you might say that I never really learned how to play "the game" of initiate-flirt-seduce properly. Most of the success I have had, has come as a result of those occasions when I have somehow stumbled into the position of Pursued, rather than Pursuer.

The bottom line in all this ramble is, I'm strongly feeling the lack of female companionship right now, but I haven't the desire, the energy, or the emotional capacity for a serious relationship. However, as I have ably demonstrated above, the logistics of successfully navigating an average everyday random "hook-up" seem to be completely beyond me. Even if they weren't, I've never been motivated to sex up someone I'm not genuinely interested in as a person. Plus, I have an extremely violent allergy to bullshit--and said substance is, I'm given to understand, quite helpful when applied in liberal doses to a potential lust-object. All of which leaves me with something of a dilemma.

This dynamic goes far in explaining why, every timeScuba talks to me on the phone, and demands to know if I've "gotten any" lately, the answer is consistently a resounding (and resigned) "no".

But enough of that. On to the fun stuff.

Pics from my New Orleans Halloween trip (already on my Facebook album, so skip these if you have access to such):

Me and my "hostess with the mostest"(hair that is), Kiki, at Voodoo Fest.

The Flaming Lips put on a good show...

...but nothing could match the raw sexuality-questioning power of Duran Duran.

Audobon Park. Note the random white-shirted woman who wandered into perfect man-peeing position vis a vis the fountain jets.

Naked, riding a water-spitting turtle...I think we've all been there.

NES Light-Gun, anyone?

My outfit for a Tulane University student performance of Rocky Horror...I was still channeling a touch of Simon Le Bon from the night before.

My costume, and the answer to last week's puzzle:
Cloud Strife (Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children)

If any of the clues don't gel in retrospect, you probably aren't a fan.

"I'm going to find it and I'm going to destroy it. Possibly with dynamite."

Frenchmen St. on Halloween is TeH KraZ0rZ. It went on like this for...ev...errrrr.

Swimsuit Borat. Definitely one of my favorites.

Filler material here

....oh, and later on, I got hit on by some gay men, one of which said I was "...too cute to be straight".

I don't have pictures of that.

The End.

Saturday, October 28, 2006

Sat, 28 Oct 2006 03:50:19 GMT

Wellz, it's that time o' TeH YeErZ again, Dear Nonexistent Reader...time, that is of course, to play "Guess Chad's Costume Based On Vaguely Misleading Visual Hints Referencing Various Aspects Thereof!!!" I couldn't get my hands on 25 women in evening gowns to hold these clues up, so Photobucket needs must suffice. Damn you, Howie Mandel! What is the dark secret of your creepy sexual magnetism!? You can't possibly still be surfing the wave from St. Elsewhere-- those spokesmodels weren't even born yet. So help me, Mandel, I will erroneously rendite your bald canook ass straight over to Syria and waterboard it out of you...

Ahem. Anyway, on with the game:

Spot 6 Halloween Fetish Party 2006

Mon, 23 Oct 2006 06:09:03 GMT

I swear I never do these kinds of things.

I'm actually a quiet, boring homebody.

I swear.

(Although, I'd technically be lying if I said this was the first time I'd ever worn black nail polish and liked it.)

(Or the second.)

My friend wanted to be tied up.

So she was.

Those were only the pictures I can show you.

For the record, everyone I met was friendly, salt-of-the-earth-type folk who couldn't have been nicer (except when dealing with those who wanted not-nice...which, to those people, is still being nice, if you can dig it).

Also for the record, I have a whole new level of respect for women who have to deal with makeup removal every night.

Wednesday, October 11, 2006

Wed, 11 Oct 2006 04:39:07 GMT

There is something about driving home from visiting your broken grandmother, through rainswept Iowa, as country songs of heartbreak blare out, that makes a man long to test how efficiently a Mountain Dew pop-top can slice through wrist veins.

Or maybe it's just the time of year.

Ladytron photos, as annoyingly requested by people that were already there in person:

Yet Another Nominal Brush With Fame

Thu, 05 Oct 2006 21:28:33 GMT

Today, I had a pleasant chat with Cal Ripkin, Jr. about how he doesn't like bright stage lighting in his face.

~THE END~

PS The "pleasant" wasn't sarcasm--Cal seems like a genuinely nice guy. His several handlers were playing out the old saw of the cooks and broth, however.

Monday, October 02, 2006

Mon, 02 Oct 2006 02:45:07 GMT

O.

M.

Fucking.

G.

I may not get out much, but when I do, I try to make it worthwhile:

...namely, the Suicide Girls Burlesque Show at the Double Door last night.

The opening act was Tsu SHi Ma Mi Re, an alternative Japanese girl-band who are too cute not to love:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gk88_dio1VI

I snapped a pic of the band photographer. Yeah, I'm Meta- like that:

***

As for the main event? Well, Bouncey McMohawk confiscated my sexy new camera's battery before the 'Girls came out, so I regrettably have no pics or vids to show you. But I can tell you:

Tattoos.

Piercings.

Pyrotechnics.

Strategically-placed electrical tape.

Ladder gymnastics.

Hula hoops.

Gas masks.

'Girl-on-'Girl shenanigans.

Brilliantly choreographed, naughty re-imaginings of such iconic cultural moments as the Napolean Dynomite dance and the "ear" scene from Reservoir Dogs.

'Girlspit-laced beer and SIlly String showered upon the tightly-packed crowd like manna from heaven.

They made us their bitch...and we loved it.

***

After the show, we stopped for a pizza/THC intermission, and then it was off to Neo, a goth-industrial club on Clark Street:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xN-3Mzj5QWQ

...hmmm? What's that? You can't make out anything except darkness and thumping beats? Exactly. ;)

Fine, here's a couple more pics:

A club I actually like? Trust me, no one is more shocked than myself. Perhaps it was the fact that only about half of the people dancing could actually dance by most mainstream definitions, but no one seemed to care (my favorite was the blind guy with the cane bustin' a slow, careful move...wait, who am I kidding, my favorite was all the black-clad girls dancing up on each other). Or, it could have been all the shadows for wallflowers like myself to lurk in while we contemplated the possibility of dancing after the next drink.

***

Thus ended my Saturday night, which was either pretty wild or rather mild, depending on your frame of reference. Now it's back to my simple hermetic existence--at least until the Suicide Girl-induced priapism subsides. If I ever do anything fun again, you'll be the first to hear about it, Dear Nonexistent Readership.