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Posted

I played with the dogs in the compound, poked at Pogey's odd growths. They didn't go away with the baths my sister and I gave him. My cousins played basketball, I watched from the hammock, they kicked up dust clouds, made a dust fog.

My young uncle Raymond from my mom's side woke me, told me we had somewhere to go. The maid closed the gate behind us, my uncle's car still rumbled. His friend, Bull, opened the door. I got in the back seat.

"Look in the bag," my uncle Raymond said. He was too young to be called Tito, really.

On the seat next to me, a purple canvas fanny pack. I unzipped it. A gun. .45 cal rested in a pile of bullets. The bag shifted with every bump of the road, the bullets jingled. I laughed.

"There's an m16 in the trunk," Raymond said, "but we need to get some bullets."

I waited in the car in front of two houses. Raymond came out nodding negative. Bull said he knew someone, and I waited alone in the car for the third house.

They came out with a backpack and some smiles. I looked at the police car in the driveway of the house, of course a cop would have bullets to share.

We drove out of Roxas along a road that'll never be finished. On the two lane passage, some stretches only had enough cement for one lane. Honk honk horn, as we overtook cars, honk honk horn when they overtook us.

We came to a family fishpond owned by father's family. With the m16, we pulled out a cooler of beer to satiate the workers, the fishermen. San Miguel hush money for the fishermen, but I don't think they would have said anything regardless. When I took the rifle out of the car's trunk -- it was pretty heavy -- they smiled. We laid it out with the handgun along the hood, bullets surrounding.

"Okay Lec, this is how you load, this is the safety, three point --"

"I know, I know, grandpa showed me when I came around last time."

"When you were twelve?"

When Raymond, Bull, the fishermen, and I finished our beers, we took the bottles and some wooden planks and placed them on the opposite end of a small pond.

I put centimos in my ears and pulled the trigger. BANG. It was louder than I remember, but I didn't flinch. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

I knew the gun was empty. I filled up the magazine with more bullets. Banged seven times. Moved to the m16, and felt the fear of a gun that didn't feel like a toy.

"You're a natural," Raymond told me. "Now pick up those casings."

Posted

^ I dunno - the site says its in beta or something.

can someone explain to me what the deal with these WIII spinoff things is. Do you need the warcraft software or is it a standalone game using the same engine?

Is it even legal?

I would google but no

Posted

holy shit i love sigur ros

i am pretty drunk for the first time

cause i have nothing better to do

but i would way rather be high

its not really as fun being drunk

at least next weekend will be better

Posted

diamonds they are legal, and standalone. you dont need warcraft 3 for them. the dudes who made dota made league of legends and heroes of newerth. idk all the details but thats the gist.

ednob: must spread around rep. username is AgnesNutter. sent you a friend request.

Posted

I was just 20 miles from the epicenter of a 6.5 magnitude earthquake in Northern California. Shit was pretty hairball.

Posted

^^ ya shit is nuts, my boss told me that today when we were closing up shop. we had one in san jose on thursday morning, then there was a small one on friday. everyone's anticipating for the Loma Prieta to happen again.

Posted

my washer flooded my downstairs a bit, so i spent the last hour mopping it up.. hurro fun times

Posted
is it free tho?
^ I dunno - the site says its in beta or something.

can someone explain to me what the deal with these WIII spinoff things is. Do you need the warcraft software or is it a standalone game using the same engine?

Is it even legal?

I would google but no

its free right now in closed beta, pm for invites. i only have a few though.

Posted
Yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaa I'm in love with Michelle Monaghan

were you watching Heartbreak Kid on TBS tonight?

Posted

I am going to have to get up for work in less than three hours.

I am going to have to find a way to sober up in less than three hours.

Posted
Someone recommend me a book by a classic American author.

Any particular direction you want to be heading in? Crime, drama ect

And how far back are we talking?

I am a voracious reader, maybe I can drop you some ideas natse. I am more into current titles, but some of the older good books I have read are

Deliverance : James Dickey

The Great Gatsby : F. Scott Fitzgerald

One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest : Ken Kesey

Posted

Well I'm thinking of something along the lines of Kerouac, Capote, Miller kinda era, and probably not something that has been made into a major motion picture.

Posted

The Great Gatsby : F. Scott Fitzgerald

Right here (10 char)

Posted

Just placed an Amazon order for;

# Slaughterhouse 5, or The Children's Crusade - A Duty-dance with Death - Kurt Vonnegut

# Fiesta: The Sun Also Rises (Arrow Classic) - Ernest Hemingway

# The Great Gatsby (Penguin Modern Classics) - F Scott Fitzgerald

# Other Voices, Other Rooms (Penguin Modern Classics) - Truman Capote

Posted

was thinking that any (even superficial) growth of biotic memory would also seem to involve at least in a minimal way, a certain diminution or impairment of the entire aparatus, whether that be considered functionally (processing speed, etc.), or simply on a material level where specific contents/connections are lost. in most cases, i'd imagine that the growth would be quantitatively greater than decay, and so 'generally' unproblematic.

but even if one were to take an intentional stance at a level of physical cause and effect (let alone subjective-experientially), the continual growth of one's memory across time would also constitute a continual loss. that continual loss is the death of certain past experiences. none of this is a hugely strange fact for most people. what is dead might be inferred in some cases as an absence, but,

my feeling is that trying to think of those memories which have been irrevocably altered or lost wholesale is one of the most absurd and interesting processes i can think of. almost of meditative value like koan.

could be the case that our very physical constitution institutes the meno paradox. how are you to know of a thing when you are wholly ignorant of what it is? "even if you happen to bump right into it, how will you know it is the thing you didn't know?"

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