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Scratched Disc by Ray Printer Friendly

It’s 12:30, I’m tired and pissed off. I somehow managed to miss my window for sleep, which almost never happens. My skin is itchy, my nose is running, my eyes hurt, and I really, really want a cigarette.


I don’t have anything worth saying, I’m just venting. If I was living in NYC, this would be the part where I go get Trey and make him talk to me while I play video games and drink. I have a couple of games that I was really excited about playing, bought, and have never played all the way through.

I’ve been meaning to get back to them at some point, but it isn’t the same, playing by yourself. And my princess, who is generally supportive and understanding, has no concept of gaming enthusiasm. “Holy shit, did you see that?! I just did this backflip, sword-throwing, kick-to-the-throat thing that killed that guy and got me through to the next level, and I uncovered a secret room that-” I look back and see she has fallen asleep.

I don’t blame her at all, I’m just saying. Trey would be sitting there beside me, slurping rum and saying something like, “No, no, man! Over there at the wall! The other wall! Holy shit, you suck at this. How did you even manage to make it this far? Just…the wall! Just hit the fuckin’ wall!” And during the cut scenes: “That chick is hot. Is it wrong to lust after a video game character?”

How pathetic is it that some of my best memories of living in New York City are of hanging out in a dark bedroom, drunk, watching him play some trippy monster game, his sound system turned up so that the freaky creeping-up-on-you noises can really scare the shit out of everyone? Those kinds of games, I was supposed to be the navigator or something, but it never worked out.

“Have I been in this room yet?”

“I don’t know, man. They all look the same to me.”

“Why are your words so slurred?”



“I have to get drunk to watch this, otherwise it scares the shit out of me.”


“Take a left here.”

“I just came from there.”

“What was in there?”

“That fuckin’ horde of demons that just ripped me a new asshole.”

“I think you can take ‘em.”

“Express elevator to Hell, goin’ down!”

Good times. I’ve been considering making new friends lately, but I often don’t see the point of it. Sure, I’d have better things to do at night then just sit around and write on a website for strangers, but is that what I want? I mean, is it really? Because if you make friends, you’re stuck with them.

People tend to like me, believe it or not. I am often invited out to parties, to clubs, whatever. I don’t generally go, and I occasionally regret it. But the thing is, I go to one party, I meet more people, then they’re gonna love me, I get more party invites…it’s a vicious cycle. And honestly, if it was just parties all the time, I’d probably be down. But people are always going out to bars.

I don’t get bars the same way that I don’t get live music. Don’t get me wrong—I enjoy both of these things on occasion. But I don’t see the point in doing it all the time. Why go out and drop a shitpile of dough on something that you can do at home for cheap, and with better quality?

I like live music. But you go out, the place is packed, the sound equipment’s all screwed up so that you can only hear one backup instrument, and mostly you’re stuck standing there beside some random dickhead who’s screaming over the music to his buddies about how he can’t believe the price of gasoline. Or about how he got laid last night. Or about what happened at his job. And I dropped twenty bucks for a cover, with a two-drink minimum? Fuck that.

I’ll listen to my CD of the same group with a bottle of generic gin, it costs me fifteen bucks less, and I have just as much fun. I’ve had friends that say stuff like, “Yeah, but live music sounds better.” Maybe. But when I go to listen to live music, the only thing I hear is a bunch of shallow-ass conversations and some blond chick cackling like mad because she really wants a rich husband someday. A CD sounds better than that.

I don’t know where I was going with any of that, so I’ll just assume that I made my point.

And gardens! What’s the deal with gardens?!

Oh, wait…nevermind. That was a different issue.

In closing: I really wish I was asleep right now.

posted 6/10/07


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