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Jul. 22nd, 2007 @ 02:29 am (no subject)
Cheez Louise, I could have told them that five years ago.
Jul. 20th, 2007 @ 03:12 pm (no subject)

I am in a peaceful place.  I have moved all anger and resentment from my mind and my internal being is currently a warm, quiet beach at sunset (pictured above).

I wonder about warm, quiet beaches at sunset.  I'll bet if you ask anybody at all to imagine a perfect environment they'll say a warm, quiet beach at sunset.  I wonder why.  I wonder if anybody imagines midtown New York at lunch hour, or the 405 in LA at 5:00pm or Minneapolis in January.

I wonder if you asked a sand crab to imagine his (or her) ideal environment if they'd imagine a warm, quiet beach at sunset.  Or for that matter, whatever a sand crab eats.  I'll bet if you ask a fish to imagine an ideal environment a warm, quiet beach at sunset is probably the last one on their list.  A warm quiet beach at sunset would be hell to a fish.  Or a whale!  A whale would have to be suicidal to imagine a warm, quiet beach at sunset to be an ideal environment!

Think about it. hit counter html code
Mar. 19th, 2007 @ 12:15 pm The maelstrom seeks me out

My phone has been ringing all day.  Urbaniak has decided to drag my past, again, into the spotlight.  Against my wishes and against the agreement he made with me.  I always knew he was like this but I never knew he could be like this.

I am staying away from the phone for a few days, so if you're trying to reach me, sorry.

I am trying to get my life back together and this is not helping.

The interviewer at Gothamista, who apparently has shit for brains, plunged ahead with his interview with Urbaniak without having the slightest grasp of the facts.  At the time of my contretemps with Urbaniak, I was not an ADVERTISING COPYWRITER.  As I have stated, many times, I was, and I'll type this big because apparently people can't get it through their fucking skulls, a MARKETING EXECUTIVE.

"Advertising Copywriter."  What a fucking douche.  "Advertising Copyrighter" is to "Marketing Executive" as "Usher" is to "Producer."  What is Gothemista, anyway?  Is that some ironic New York hip thing?

I am now out of that life; it has ruined me as it has ruined many good people.

I am now a good deal saner, but that doesn't make me a fucking pushover.

Oh, and hi to meghan.  How's it been?
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Jan. 9th, 2007 @ 12:42 am Thank God for small things

Got out long enough today to take a drive down to the local small town.  They have a supermarket, a hardware store, a diner, a Wal-Mart.  You know the kind of place I'm talking about.

They also have a Jack-in-the-Box.

I drove up to the speaker.  My hands were shaking.  Jack-in-the-Box has been the site of some of my most bitter defeats and humiliations.  Dare I approach the speaker and request the thing I desire?

There is no one there.  No line I mean.  The place looks sleepy and content, huddled in the winter light, crouching next to the anonymous state highway.

I drive up.

I recognize the menu.  This menu and I go back a long way.

They still serve Oreo Cookie shakes.  Dare I -- ?  Dare I -- ?

Then, I see it.  I see it.

NEW!  Oreo Cookie Shakes Now REGULAR and CHOCOLATE!

I savor my triumph.  I have been heard.  I am not a meaningless wisp in the universe.  I have a purpose and I have an effect.  I have affected the universe.

I am blessed.
Nov. 18th, 2006 @ 04:45 am where I am now

The room is small, but not uncomfortable.

Likewise the bed.

Nothing special.  Bought from a local flea market, I imagine.  Piece of crap by today's luxury standards.  But it will do.

There's a desk, where I stack my clothes at night.  I don't work there.  I don't work at all, not like that.  Not anymore.

The computer is in the office.  Access is granted on a limited basis.

My window looks out into the back yard.  A wide swath, a gently rising hill, a dense wood beyond.

They say we're on 42 acres, and there's a 500-acre state park beyond.  That's a lot of wilderness these days.

There are three ponds on the property.  One is large, two are small.  In the summertime the smaller ones dry up.

One afternoon during a walk, I found a rusted old piece of farm machinery in the woods, under a tree, covered with mounds of pine needles.  I puzzled for a number of days about this.  Why is there an old piece of farm machinery in the middle of the woods?  Who brought it out here, why did they leave it here, how did they maneuver it through the dense woods?

Then I realized, when the machine broke down, this was not woods.  When the machine broke down for the last time, this was all pasture. 

Now it's forest. 

Time flies.

Many animals.  Raccoons, chipmunks, field mice, red squirrels.  Deer walk right up to the house to nibble at the bushes.  In July a bobcat nonchalantly sauntered past on the back patio.

The trees are crazy with birds.  Starlings, juncos, cardinals, bluejays, sparrows of course.  At night, owls screech and dive for the mice.  In the day, red-tailed hawks grab chipmunks off the ground and tear them to shreds in mid-air.  I am told there is a goshawk in the woods as well.  Goshawks look at bird feeders like you or I look at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

That's nature.

Out to the left, an old potato barn at the end of a pebbled drive, now a garage.

The trees have finished their symphony of blazing glory for the year.  Now it's mostly grey and black outside.  It's a little creepy sometimes.

Currently, a thick mist hangs in the air, cloaking the house, dampening the nearby sounds.

The house breathes with the weather.  As the year grows older, The ancient bones of the place swell and contract, creak and tick in the night.

It's quiet like you've never heard it before. 

And dark.  The nightlights are left on every night in every hall here.  When they are off the house is blackness itself.

Not that I have occasion to wander the hallways at night.  I sleep well.  The air is good.  If I need to get up in the night, the bathroom is just across the hall.

That's all for now.  It's hard for me to concentrate sometimes.
Nov. 16th, 2006 @ 07:15 pm (no subject)
Nov. 15th, 2006 @ 03:20 pm (no subject)
Nov. 13th, 2006 @ 07:44 pm (no subject)
Nov. 3rd, 2006 @ 10:37 am a note to readers

First: I am not dead.  It only felt that way.

Second: As part of my program, it is incumbent upon me to apologize to those I have hurt, physically and mentally, in my life.

I'm going to assume that this applies to everyone reading this.

For a long time I was not a well man.  I am starting over and I have a tall, steep mountain to climb.  To conquer this mountain I need your support.  Just as Clint Eastwood needed George Kennedy's support to climb a tall, steep mountain in The Eiger Sanction.

Forgive me.

A special wish for forgiveness is extended to Meghan Sfz (what is that, Czech?  doesn't matter) who once offered me love, companionship and the bounty of her feminine charms but had me go crazy on her.  Forgive me, Ms. Sfz.
Nov. 1st, 2006 @ 12:01 pm (no subject)

Jul. 1st, 2006 @ 02:19 am (no subject)
going to sleep now

urbaniak wins

(what can I say, I tried)

feel much better now, thanks

bye bye

I love you all.

         --- josh_emery, logged out

Jun. 29th, 2006 @ 11:24 pm I am Sloth

above: recent photograph of Mr. Emery

My eye has sawolen up to the asize of a lemon. Hurts like mothwer fucking shoit. All basxuece I didnt bpeel the guank off it last nigth becfore bed. Purple adn eyeooll wandbbleue. A purlbel and yeololw and bluel eyballe, swoallen aup to the zize fo a lamen, on the sice of my head. I've got to hold my head sideaways just to type at hthte fcuking computer.

Diet mr pappbb eveaptorating into nothingnes.s. Fucikng verzion.

Oh. oh. oh. Get this.

I hvad a simlple job repain robj. I tore a few days ago tore a fphne our toff the wall (guess whay). Had to call WHO ELSE verszint o rewpars it.

Oh jesus fucking god.

Yes. Jesus fucking God.

That is to say, Jesus, wtith his rob hiked up around his waist, fucking god, In the ass, excuse me, in His Ass, while the heanvery host watches in horror. blood pouring from god's ass as jsesus RAJSMS IT HOME< BASBY@!!!

I call verzion. HOw shall I call verizon? Wowlh bout I look on their website?

I look on their websit.e. there's a number listed. I call. no answer. THEY'rE NOT HOME. I call back the nasxt day some thing. Thrird sday, I get a real humna benng. I tell them I need a repari. /tehey say "why are you caling this number? This is the DSL Serive cline." I say it's no theri websit.e. They say "well yous should call the number on your phone bill."

I call the number on yym phonebakll. NO ANSER. A recordning asys "call back between 9 and 6." Okay. Fune.

I call the next day. I get someoe. I tell them the situation. they say, get this: "I have no diea what to do fro oyu. Let me transfer you to repairs." They do that. Gy n repairs says "Okay, let me set aan apointment up." Puts me aon hold. Ten minutes later, someone picks up and says "HELO, BILLING." I tiell the the situration, they say "WHAtare you caliling me for, this is billing, we don't blaha bhad blahd."
Stema comign otu of my ear.s. (figuratively)

I finally get osemteone on repaidrs. Tey say "How's fRiday, noon to five?" I say "wondreful."

Friday. I sit. and sit. asnd ist. sand sti.

5pm, no vsizerxn. I call the number. 5:04. Same recording/"This office is closed,please call btwineen 9 and 6."

Oj my fucking jesus fucking gud.

fivtyeneen fucking ponee callas, twenty difreent fuciking idiots, finallay ggot my pnhone fixe.d.

My head hurs6t enougha rlarty. now itdspppppppppppp

Kay. I'm rise.d. can't ontsecnteere.e



Jun. 27th, 2006 @ 09:53 pm Wher are my cats?
Kitty kitsy sikyty kity tksty

Where do they go? I post them, they're here for a moment, then ---- ?

An d my Diet Mr. Pibb I'm srue someong is stealing it.


I had a 12-pack, usjt sysesteryady, and now htere are only 5 left. That's imposssible. I know whan I draink each onel.. I had one at breakfast, one at snakc-time. Lucnnh I went down to the mall and dined "ala carte", so I didn't have one for lunch, sone for dinner adn one for dessert. That's four. Four. There are seven missing. Seven.

Let's see if my first-grade math has not abandoned me.

12 - 4 = 9

See, I should have Nine left/. Nine. And I have finve4.

Someone is breaking into my house to steal my Diat Dr. Pribb. But who?

Is ti Veriaznon?

Kitty test. 3 2 1

You should see a photo of a kitty above this text. If you do not see i kityt/, please contact the Live oruaon. adminastingsn. thafnkaskyou,l,.
Jun. 26th, 2006 @ 11:27 pm (no subject)
Midway in the journey of our life
I came to myself in a dark wood,
for the straight way was lost.
Ah, how hard it is to tell
the nature of that wood, savage, dense and harsh—
the very thought of it renews my fear!
It is so bitter death is hardly more so.
But to set forth the good I found
I will recount the other things I saw.

Eye swollen shut.

Can't go to the dctor, no heath insux.

Yellow stuff drise to hard crust. Extremely painful to the touch.

Smells something firec.

Called one of my old friasds at Varzin.

got his vocie maoil.

Din't call bac,.


Uranacnika making fun of me on his fuckcing blogn. Whyh not? This is the way of the world

Teh starong srubvive, the weak are diminished, bfacde away. Tuck ed away, that's a good little pest, bybbye, that's a nice little pest, you just go and die and we'll just satay up here o n the ountaintop and laugh at you. Life is good up here on the mountaintop for those of us who have good lifves. Because we will never die. Lt's clkin cglasses and drink a toat to each other, our sequined goiwna nad pressed tuxedos, creasons that could slice paper, ho how cute we are. Let's make fun of the homelses, lit's makein fun of the blind, the halt, the lame,

the lame

a ll godod fodder for humors.

the moutnonain, moutnaintop

the pretty people, ha ha tee hee

Once I was up thereeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
once ai swas up ther,,,, sakllllllllllllllllll

once i wa whneu htere/,


tiresd, betttetrtretr go to brfd. oh gonfd why.
Jun. 25th, 2006 @ 11:54 pm (no subject)

t       h       e              s         k      u      l      l                 b        e         n        e       a       t        h            t         h       e            s      k       i      n

Eye worse.

Yellow stuff.

Not too bad, in volume, but itches like mad.

I've been trying hot compresses, then cold, then hot again.

Tried to watch tV, but the light hurth my eyes too mcauh.

Gold Bond powerd, forget it. Whoever markets this shit should be killed.

And nowhere on the pzckage adoes it say "DO NOT PUT IN EYES."

Or, is eyes interanlly? It says do not take internally, is eyes internally?

Arnent' syes external?


Is tehre a god?
Jun. 25th, 2006 @ 02:57 am (no subject)

Eye irritated.

Puffy, raw, itchy.

Vision blurring.

Hard to sleep.
Jun. 24th, 2006 @ 11:54 am (no subject)

I shall soon be quite dead at last in spite of all. Perhaps next month. Then it will be the month of April or May. For the year is still young, a thousand little signs tell me so. Perhaps I am wrong, perhaps I shall survive Saint John the Baptist's Day and even the Fourteenth of July, festival of freedom. Indeed I would not put it past me to pant on to the Transfiguration, to say nothing of the Assumption. But I do not think so, I do not think I am wrong in saying that these rejoicings will take place in my absence, this year.
Jun. 23rd, 2006 @ 01:29 am (no subject)
Jun. 22nd, 2006 @ 05:50 am (no subject)
Some lady in personnel at Verizon called to tell me that there has been an "internal dispute" regarding my severance package.  The powers-that-be have decided to deduct the hours I billed to their legal department in the pursuit of my defamation suit against James Urbaniak.  This has left me with an actual negative severance package of $31, 600.00, which the lady (Susan something) said the company would be willing to "waive" if I stopped talking shit about Verizon on my blog.

Well, I told Susan Something a thing or two about Josh Emery.

Josh Emery did not come here to fuck around.  Josh Emery bends over for no one, least of all the Verizon Personnel Department.
Jun. 21st, 2006 @ 12:45 am (no subject)
Private message to Mr. James Urbaniak: