07-03-2020 06:54 pdt

The Clodmaster section has been updated.




Trashed

 read ( words)

"Today has been alright for the most part. The fucking weather prohibited outside work again so I embraced the indoor stuff. My daily chores are finished and a few steps toward the new office have been taken. All in all, not bad. Oh, there is one thing... My brain is completely trashed to hell over the fucking desire. Splendid.

Pause already.

Morning. Early. Movie. Coffee. Nowhere to go from here. I am sitting like always, keyboard awaiting my fingers, yet so much has already been spouted here that I am at a loss now. I keep thinking of the little situations which have brought on so much desire and worry. Things are beginning to come to a head and I have to move forward with something... Anything. This is bad. I parked there yesterday at my destination to wait and did not see the other car. You know, the woman I had hoped to see again. I guess she did not work. Little else took place there before driving back. Dinner, cocktails, that's it. And now here I am again awaiting the drive. I might see her. Nothing is certain right now other than my severe loss of direction and ambition. Upon returning later I will do the usual stuff and have things in order for lunch. I have a guest coming.

The television last night was surprising. The show I have been following in the evening threw me a curve ball that was very unexpected. The dialog during what could be called their 'b' plot was so bad that I nearly turned off the episode. Well, I made it through, but my brain went into overtime on the subject. By the time I laid down to sleep, most of it was gone as the understanding set in that media will go wherever society leads. I kind of let it go because none of it matters to me now. I am alone nearly all of the time so the worry over any uncomfortable conversation has been reduced about as far as it can. I speak to no one anymore and prefer it this way. Well, I do speak here, but most of the time the ideas are ambiguous. And one other aspect of exploring here is that though I am speaking, no one is returning any thoughts. There is no talking back to me anymore. Out of reach. That means I get to employ one of my favorite words again. I am in complete control of this fucking endeavor. If you have an opinion or comment, save it. I don't care. Oy, I went off the subject in a manner of speaking. Ahh... The episode. I really don't want to go into it because readers will run with what I say and assume I am coming from a very specific standpoint. They would be incorrect, however it doesn't matter. The thoughts and assumptions would form too quickly and I cannot defend against any of it. The bottom line is that what took place on the show was offensive, and gave in to society's standards without remorse. The issue was turned into a punch line -- like so many other parts of media -- and used as a tool for laughs. There is nothing wrong with funny, so much as no one is hurt. And while it is true that I have become hyper-sensitive to some things, the fact remains that I can laugh, too. Sometimes funny, other times not, I will blame no one for my issues with the episode. The sheep lead the sheep. The idea is that people do not know what they are doing and it is rarely their own fault. That is that.

I am fucking sick of little situations like last night tugging at my brain. There is already enough going on to keep me analyzing for a fucking lifetime. I don't need more crap on top. Shut the fuck up, everyone. Please.

So I am going to further what began yesterday. The old and new offices and then a bit of chores. Upon returning here later this morning, I will probably work on this and then move around and see what I can do before lunch. Sometimes Stallone walks through a movie and goes on a tirade of sorts and I love it. Even though this movie was kind of stupid, he still commands the screen. I haven't seen this in a very long time and turned it on due to a lack of options. And I think after Amy Brenneman's performance in 'Heat', everything else is just ok. I like her, but her voice and facial expressions in 'Heat' were incredible. No goo goo, just great acting. Don't get me started on Diane Venora. Onward. Again... Today. Little things, lots of computations in my head, lunch, and then some quiet time before driving toward the south. I really don't need to see those globes again, but hopefully they will stroll by with a cutie attached. Go ahead and say it... Beyond help. I don't care. Alone means I need answer to no one. Ever.

I am going to try talking about today for the third time now. Chores, driving, lunch, and then some more work toward the new office setup. I am looking forward to having that space to my liking and it is not far away. The show will follow me, as always. Yesterday it was on until after seven in the evening. Uh oh, quote time:

'I got three dead bodies off Venice Boulevaaad, Justine... I'm sorry if the Goddamned chicken got... Over... Cooked.'

My stomach is a bit ugh this morning. There is nothing wrong, though. Just a thing. I have another tool arriving in the mail today. That will be nice. The garage will be nice, too. I love heading out there for a break and bringing the sound from the show with me. Pretty cool. I had no idea just how much enjoyment I would get from the television in the kitchen and audio in the garage. The goddess gave me the kitchen idea because she can prepare food and watch at the same time. Well, now it's done and I love it. What a difference. I still have not gone to order a television for the garage, though. Not yet. Stallone rolled up the sleeves. Yikes, things are going to happen. Heh. Anyway, today is outlined and I will report on the progress this evening, as always.

Back from the morning drive. I saw her again, and it went further this time. Just before exiting the parking lot, she walked from her car with the typical armload of paperwork and then dropped some. I stepped out to help her, picked up one sheet that she overlooked, smiled, and went back to the car. The girl was wearing a mask, but still super cute. And the breasts were obscured by all the things she had to juggle. Well, my head spun a bit at being so close, but soon enough I was in the mobile cocoon and cruising the highway with my music. Seeing her like that was nice. All done. Now I sit here in my usual form with coffee and this crap. And now B'Elanna again, bless her cutest of faces. So, as much as I wanted to explore the issue brought up last night on the show, the subject is touchy, to say the least. I don't even know if I can glance some of the points without opening up too much. Perhaps leaving it all alone for now is the best path. I'll have to give it more thought before proceeding, as well as treading lightly should I decide to go down that road. Maybe I will address today's activities a bit more.



846



I have to do a little something in the bathroom. Cleaning and such, and then the caulk of the tub skirt. I still do not have much motivation, but like other projects began, the first step will likely lead to more. After this and some daily business, I'll head in there and do just that... A step. That may be all it takes. Pause. Nope. I took care of the usuals and then lunch. Nada, other than that. But at least on the drive I saw that woman again. She is adorable. She waved, I waved. Smile. Bye. Drive. That is that. Her face is something else, I have to say.

And Thursday morning after a night of haphazard sleep and a dream. I don't remember. What I do recall is a shitload of turmoil within. There has been so much. The show the other night sparked some things, sitting around yesterday increased the brightness of the sparks, and now this morning they are flickering with even more intensity than hours ago. Much of this is very sensitive and I don't know if going into it is a good idea. Just because I have spouted here for years on very racy subjects does not mean everything is within bounds. Much consideration is necessary if I am to explore. This is tough. I suppose today can be addressed, and then wherever it leads.

Chores. Writing. The show. There is today. Fuck it.

Today is the day that I review the house drawing. I need to see it and possibly redraw parts so everything appears clearer. I haven't worked on it in some years. The events and feelings of the past few months are driving me into that house with all haste. My little fantasy world where others can be shut out, leaving just the two of us (if I can possibly assemble two or three into one and move forward) to live together and drown in the moments. The need is becoming overwhelming. I have to move a few more items off the old table so the bigger drafting table can be used as intended. That means the new office will advance, as well. Anything to keep my head in a better place right now. On top of that, a bunch of material is going to be delivered today so I can move along out there with the lighting. Yesterday afternoon became very cool... Always good for working on a ladder. Hopefully today will follow suit.

The subjects of things I need to accomplish are not going to help dissuade the feelings right now. I am concerned and a lack of words here might be the result. If the exploration of my dreams does not continue and I cannot broach the other issues, what goes here? Descriptive essays? Those help exactly no one. The fiction was to move forward the other day but did not. I lost track. And then Jaime went from the story to my heart after the images and everything went to hell. The others, the girl down south in the parking lot... What is the problem here? I can't think straight anymore. Or at least, not enough to truly work anything out. And whether or not the work is in my head or out in the garage, my brain will not remain in the same space for five fucking minutes. Even this crap is all over the place. I sit here for a little while and stare, but soon enough the mouse brings me to something different and I lose track after two fucking sentences. I keep thinking of how different things could be had I turned right instead of left all those years back. Or maybe a different one... Like running to Vegas in zero three. Or zero two. Or eleven. Fuck, I don't know. Most likely I would be the same person, just in the middle of some other situation in some other location. No change. Sitting here at the keyboard. Television there keeping me company. Tons of words that barely make sense. And then one day a woman strolls by and tilts my world ninety degrees for a time until she fades. More words, no solutions, no ambition, no nothing. Desire soon after, and then depression, issues three and four rise up to pound me into the ground, sleep, dreams, awake, and the entire shit storm begins again.

Fuck it. Might be time to password and secure the site so I can go into these things with nary a concern over who may be reading.

Thursday. Other people are working right now, and despite the alarming spike in virus cases. Me? Nope. Still home after more than three months. I have to stay here. Not fear, just the need to be alone and in my cocoon until I locate the proper type of work I can do to my satisfaction. I don't know what that is, however. Leaving my career was a good decision, though. The timing worked, so I jumped ship with the belief that my safety was more important. You know... I've gone over this more than once. Speaking of 'going', my mind is all over the place for the millionth time. Right now I don't give a shit about work. I'll look soon enough, but other problems are in charge of my thoughts. Without first working out the knots inside, I may be able to begin a job, but soon the implosion will happen and I'll run out the door. Not good. I have to sit tight and try to understand myself, and if that means I'm here for a fucking year, so be it. Today is like any other day, so far. Soon I will leave this alone until the afternoon and do some work. The coffee is still there.

Without going into difficult subjects, I am running out of words. Let us see if I can be foggy and clear at the same time.

Good God, some of these Asians in the movie are amazing. Like I said before, I think such a fascination began with the long, black hair. Whatever. Bigger fish. Change the fucking channel, dumbass.

The episode I mentioned the other day is hanging there in my vision. In my head, too. I can't help it, and the simple truth is humor drove it to be written in such a manner. I am speaking of a 'big three' network series, which means they can only take sexuality so far, unlike the premium networks. The show is both dramatic and funny at times, kind of silly during others. I am in the seventh season by this point, and being this far invested means I will probably watch the remainder. Normally I don't run into any trouble with the episodes. I believe the other night was the first. Anything else has been forgotten and that means no big deal in my brain. The series of events and conversation in question led me to search the Internet for answers, and any such effort is futile, however. The whole thing rolled up in my head like a snowball down a huge slope. Since then I have been able to reason some, meaning what is left has been reduced a measure. That is good, but I still do not understand the overarching theme and why it has become pervasive in media. I am not hurt, just confused as to the reasoning behind people being driven to exploit a specific aspect of masculinity. And now after typing a preamble, there is even more hesitation in going further. Damn it. One of my issues led to the realization that despite my having difficulty with such a subject, I can work with it. A smidgen of 'up'. I will get into it when I feel better.



847



There is Gemma and her unreal, lanky features leading up to perhaps the longest neck I have seen on an Asian woman. No wonder she was so successful as a model. Oy, but her character in this movie is troubled. And then the gay friend who defined the role so well that I am in awe of his acting prowess. Absolutely fantastic. But I digress.

Ah yes... Trashed over everything. Thanks, Marc and Dave. Assholes.

There is a key term used more than once after Susan accidentally walks in on Tom and Lynette making love in the nursery. The scene is adorable for a few seconds, then funny due to the reactions, but leads to a subplot which is in very bad taste and serves to validate society's views of males. That is bad, but no one seems to give a shit. Most people that I have known (I cannot comment upon others because I have not spoken with many, and the actors are not being themselves) keep things inside, which I believe is natural. No one wishes others to be aware of true feelings most of the time. On the surface, however, all hell often breaks loose and one subject or another becomes punch line after punch line. I cannot stand it. Part of me being alone these days is to avoid such uncomfortable scenes. The one in the show came and went but still spins circles inside me. Again, I am hesitant for more detail for fear of backlash. I already feel enough disdain and dissatisfaction with people as a whole. I need no additional shit on top. This may go nowhere, but as you can see, much has been dedicated to one subject, and that means inside it is enormous. One aspect with which I am pleased is the point of fiction. The written dialog and ridiculous outcome have nothing to do with me, really. Fiction. The problem is the blatant reinforcement of a fucking mass of wrong. Or maybe I just think too much after years of being overly uptight. I don't know. My past is a mess of issues which were out of my control and I am certain that fact is contributing. More and more I feel the differences between myself and whomever else crosses my path.

Nothing is easy anymore... Not even typing. And I should not be hungry this early in the day. Too much dinner, I guess. Wait... Who cares?

A break for a minute. I was recently questioned about the symbol at the top-left of the master page. Up there, in the corner. I developed that eight years ago when migrating to ASP, and it is a representation of three buttons on an old auto-reverse cassette deck. The center is 'pause', right is 'play', left is 'reverse'. Hence, back to the past, pause for the present, and exploration into the future. I thought the reference would be appropriate once the site direction changed. Considering all that has been published since then, I believe the choice and creation of the logo stands on its own. In short, I did good. Smile, just for a minute. Heh.

And now back to our regularly-scheduled bullshit.

Nope. Uh oh, something just popped into my head upon seeing Gemma Chan towering over all the other actors. Wow, this could actually mean something.

Considering my fascination regarding robotic women began many years ago with 'Cherry 2000', and Pamela appearing so fucking beautiful as a machine, I am not surprised at what just assembled in my brain. Years after that film, a show premiered on FX (I think) called 'Humans'. Well, the story began in a future populated by robots for purchase. Ordinary people could use them to help around the house, among other tasks. The main protagonists did just that, and the fucking woman who played the machine was none other than Gemma Chan. Holy shit, I had forgotten about that show until just a few minutes ago while out in the yard. She is very tall for being Chinese (although British by birth), and I became enamored with the Asian features, long black hair (again), and her beauty. On top of all that crap, she was a very advanced robot. I'm not going to get into the story as it is unrelated, but suffice to say this realization pushes the ideas in my head even further than before. The series premiered in fifteen, so you can imagine how much more detailed and technologically advanced she was when compared to Cherry 2000 from eighty-seven. I immediately became captivated and enthralled by both her beauty and capability as a machine. Wow, after all this fucking time... I remembered. Another rung on my ladder of dreams. This is both good and bad, as you may expect. I honestly no longer see her the same as years ago during my Asian phase, but the machine... Holy fucking shit, Batman. I am going through deep cycles of everything now.

Alright, I will describe the issue from the episode last night. This will not be easy, however there can be no understanding should I continue to glean with no detail. That is unfair. I cannot show a gun in the first act without it being used in the third.



848



After Susan walked in on Tom and Lynette engaged in making love on the floor, the day went by otherwise uninteresting. Later, it became a struggle to watch. Thinking Tom was out of earshot, Susan inquired of Lynette as to her husband's prominent 'manhood', and more to the point, why Lynette had never brought it up. Susan also referred to him as 'Tom tripod', among other quips. I am not going to comment on those terms as of yet. The main idea for Lynette was that her husband often felt emasculated (the show has used that word often) due to her forceful and controlling nature, and she saw no reason to go into the subject of his sex with others, especially her close circle of female friends. This has not been referenced throughout the course of the series. Plot contrivances are often introduced in order to fuse another story or incite humor. I am quite certain that many found the situation funny. I did not. The term 'manhood' is immediately and clearly reducing a male to nothing more than a body part. [As an aside, I will not go into the female equivalent (breast size) for two reasons: First, I am much more affected by references to males because I am one, and two, the entire world that is body image and society's view of such is more complex than I can address. Suffice to say, my regard for women is both similar and very different than others I have known. Due to the episode and scenes in question, half is all I will run with at the moment. Don't fucking attack me or I will go away for good. Live with it.] There are so many irritating facets to the references I heard that I nearly cannot flesh this out. In addition, the relationship between such a term and one other common descriptor for testicles (not nearly as bad, and not terribly offensive) -- 'balls' -- sometimes runs close enough to where one leads to the other. The 'manly' men are more formidable physically and considered 'ballsy' (which is actually kind of funny when used in the right conversation), and thus without such fortitude, perceived masculinity, or prowess with women, the resulting image can be quite the opposite. No sooner did the scene elapse, and my head nearly exploded in light of the production reducing itself to being laced with sexist euphemisms. I was taken aback, really, due to the show heading in such a direction after seven seasons of mostly family-friendly content. Now I am angry. The writing ran with the 'humor' and referenced the wording several more times before the end of the episode. Keep in mind that prior to the series in question I had been watching one of the best-written and acted shows in memory, and that came to an abrupt halt after a scene which nearly had me doubled over from one word, over and over and fucking over, in the space of moments. I killed that show immediately, explained my reasoning, and never went back. Well, that will not happen with the current series because up to this point the humor has been harmless and I cannot imagine anything worse due to the network. It is nearly always safe for me. As I understand it, the creation was originally marketed toward a female demographic and grew to be more balanced after two years. Couples were watching, as one might expect. The primary characters are all married.

So, pissed off. I am sick and fucking tired of males being referred to has having 'the balls' to do something, being 'hung' or some such other fucking term regarding size, or the need to 'grow a pair' when there is difficulty ahead. Fuck you, too, because you are perpetuating the same shit. And I don't give a fuck if the consensus is that I have issues with size. All too often that is the perceived common denominator whenever a male has an opinion one way or another. And? Another fuck you if you already came to such a conclusion without any knowledge whatsoever. Just... Fuck you. Don't reference vegetables, eggs, hoses, hot dogs, sausage... NOTHING. Ok, that is enough. If you don't get the point, go elsewhere. This site is nothing special anyway, and I am no one.

I did not type the word 'man' due to the fact that being male means possessing certain body parts, and being a man is one of the most debated subjects in the history of human beings. I will not touch that one, ever. But 'manhood'? Horrible. I cannot swear enough.

Fuck you, everyone. Every single Goddamned person that has ever existed has been wrong at some point in their lives, and I am no different. What is different is the fact that I fucking think about others' feelings. I try to consider what I may think given a situation in which offensive territory has been tread. The episode touched a nerve. That nerve just happens to be at the very core of my being after a lifetime of said thinking. Years of analysis over everything which causes discomfort. Too much has transpired in my life for me to avoid railing on about something which is in my heart. One more time... Fucking live with it. And then go away.

That is all I have to say about it. I'm too fucking upset about the manner in which the world has developed to continue. My hands just can't do it anymore. Fuck everyone.

And now a person who used to wave to me each time he rode or drove by my garage has ceased such a gesture. He is related to another individual I know, and he has shut me out. Whatever took place to make others avoid contact with me has now extended a bit further. I don't understand. But I can say this... Becoming upset and angry over the television show, and then thinking about people removing me from their lives makes me more angry, and now a third fucking pain in the ass has arisen which is not helping. Why everything must hit so close together is beyond me, but if this shit is some type of test, I am going to fail. People need to know just how upset I have become. There are many ways I can go about this. I must think. Something funny in the midst: A young person stopped by my garage yesterday afternoon and stayed for a bit to catch up. He is just out of high school and used to care for the yards. Seeing him was kind of nice after realizing I have been snubbed for the umpteenth fucking time this year. I know that the pandemic has caused issues of one sort or another for millions of people, but I am not the fucking cause. I don't understand anyone or anything these days. The conclusion keeps repeating in my head... Change nothing. As nice as it was to see that kid after a few years, I know he is the only person to have reached. It was a chance situation as my garage door was open and I had been out there working. As for the young one who no longer acknowledges me as he passes? Well... as I said above, fuck everyone.



769



Morning again. This will be my typical day... Drive, home, chores, whatever projects I wish to address, drive again (hopefully no breasts), and then the evening with cocktails and dinner. So far this morning I have been sitting here for an hour with ridiculous television in the background and coffee. I was pretty pissed off last night and still feel it quite a bit more than I thought possible after sleeping on the subject. A situation arose for the billionth time and caused somewhat haphazard sleep. I could not stop analyzing for quite some time and awakened very early still thinking about it. Now I am pissed off all over again and no one can do anything about it. Do you remember when I said I was going to stay away from everyone? I have, for the most part. Whether or not that decision has helped me is a mystery. I feel the same, I suppose, just alone. The more I try to calculate how and why these particular annoyances keep popping up and swerving me, the more I feel that other people need to be completely eliminated. Nothing... No waves to those I see walking by, no phone, no more smiles. My world will shrink further, believe it or not. There is no longer room in my life for those parts which cause difficulty. I have enough shit to plow. Go fuck yourselves in a muddy ditch for all I care. Fall asleep in that ditch and catch cold. Fuck you.

In the afternoon yesterday I wished to kill some time so I grabbed the stuff which arrived for the lighting and kicked into gear for a little while. Two new lamps are up, nearly wired, and the old track system is down. I have to wire up a few boxes and the system will be operational. If the cooler trend continues today, I will head out there and finish everything. Nice. Also, the big table is about ready to move. Perhaps I can get it out there this weekend. The guy is going to take his bike out today and likely keep it until late tomorrow or Sunday. That means more room for me to reconfigure stuff. I am glad there are little steps in the right direction these days because I need them to offset all of the fucked up crap that is wasting my precious time. I have to find ways to smile in spite of everyone demonstrating their lack of sensitivity and expert assholish behavior. Honestly, I hope someone does reach out to me. The result could prove entertaining. Ah... That will not happen. Whatever.

The quiet time today could not come at a better point this week. I need it. Fucking Maybelline commercial just wrecked my thinking process. Where do they find those faces? Unbelievable. Damn, the quiet. Anyway, I have my usual items to cancel off the list, some of this crap, and some time for myself here and there. An average weekday. The best part of the day is less than two hours away... Arriving home to the solace and being in control of everything. Holy shit is that ever a good feeling. Maybe when I get back here after the drive the peace and quiet can help alleviate my anger. Time will tell.

This is a much shorter entry than usual and I don't give a fuck.

She is out there."



top

coma

Creative Commons License