just for goths...
and other cynical folk who see as little sense in those damned "motivational" posters that seem to mysteriously appear in your workplace...

I added a link in the sidebar under "Food for Thought".
Buy their stuff. Demotivate!
pearls before swine...

it's amazing...
how a sight or a sound can trigger a memory. This one wafted in and out when I was listening to the local college station during the ride home tonight. It's the last damned California story I'm going to tell, mostly because I need to clean out the mental attic and definitly because it was the end of California, forever.

California ended on March 1st, 1973, on the beach at the end of Avenue G. Everything you owned was packed in your car, the apartment over the luncheonette emptied out, hollow and melting like a jack o'lantern on a late November front porch. No ghosts could live there, it was a place too sad for haunting, we carried our ghosts out with us, quietly as always. We met up on the chilly beach just after noon, when the fog had been blown over to try out Japan by the landward breeze. I couldn't talk. You wouldn't. Not that we ever did that much, our conversations were mostly visual. You stuck you hand out from under the red and white striped blanket you wore wrapped around you and took mine, only for a moment and then let it drop. You buried your face in the side of my arm and cried. I could only look down at your always bare feet, so tan and so tiny and watch the sand crush up between your curled toes. It half covered your pink nail polish and made your toes look like lost bits of coral. You turned away from me and walked away and I didn't watch you go, but I should have. And so it ended a block from where it began, with a late night cup of coffee and a glance. It was real quiet when California died. I was never party to the death of a place before. It wasn't nice.
pearls before swine...

Goth Olympics...
I've been watching the games in Athens over the past few days (in between bouts of kitchen remodeling), and, while the athletes are very impressive, I was wondering what the Goth Olympics might be like...
The opening ceremonies would, I'm sure, start at least an hour late, and most of the audience would shuffle in halfway through the festivities... Nothing much would really go on, just a lot of black clad gothies milling around, trying to avoid bumping into each other in the veil of clove cigarette smoke, trying to pick each other up. It would probably go on all night and the place would have to be cleared of gothies who've crawled under the seats and nodded out to avoid sleeping in the sun.
The medal events would be most interesting...
1. Synchronized Nail Polishing. Unlike the regular Olympics, this would be a co-ed event... As a matter of fact, I think all the events are co-ed...
2. The Goth Triathalon...
First event: hair teasing. Highest pile wins.
Second event: picking out an outfit. Shortest time picking out the most layers of clothing wins, but points are deducted for anything white or freshly laundered...
Excessive amounts of cheap jewelry are mandatory, but do not add anything to your score unless they are something cool, like bracelets that throw off sparks when they rub against each other, or rings mounted with your baby teeth...
Third event: leaving for the club. This is a time-trial event. The contestant who fucks around the longest before calling all their friends for a ride is the winner... (re-doing your makeup for the fifteenth time does not count... hear that, guys?).
3. Couch jump. Everyone lines up at the front door of an apartment and when the door is thrown open, the race is on! The first one to land on the couch and crash out wins. Style counts; knocking over faux stone gargoyle statue or falling over coffee table adds to your over-all score. Points are deducted, however, if you remove your boots before crashing out.
4. Emo toss. Each contestant grabs a cute little emo boy or girl by the ankles, twirls them around a few times and throws them into traffic. This is a good one, everyone wins!!!
5. Hammer Throw. This is an event for couples. Goth boy/girl pisses off their significant other Goth boy/girl, resulting in full blown argument, during which 20.oz claw hammers are made available to help you get your point across. You get the picture. In this one, I think, everyone looses...
6. The Pout, Sigh and Moan. This event takes place in your parent's/girlfriend's/boyfriend's place, by sitting on the sofa, arms crossed, staring blankly into space and letting everyone know you're one sullen little gothy boy or girl by thrusting out your bottom lip, sighing and moaning in increasing amounts until your parent/girlfriend/boyfriend gets the picture and pays some attention to you. The longer you can ignore the attention from aforesaid parent/girlfriend/boyfriend until they throw up their arms in total frustration with your silence gets you points, with style points awarded for holding the back of your hand against your forehead whilst emitting long, plaintive wails.
7. Up all day, sleep all night. Yeah, right. Forget this one...
8. Disc toss! Contestants get into their maroon 1986 Toyota and upon discovering their little sister left her Pink CD in the player, they throw it out the driver side window, going for distance. Killing birds in flight, braining the old lady across the street or forgetting to roll down the window and fracturing a wrist can only add to your score.
9. Javelin throw. Goths and long, sharp pointed sticks..? I think not.
10. Goth gymnastics. Contestants consume the usual amount of beer, vodka jello shots and sloe gin shooters upstairs at the club, then try to negotiate the metal spiral stairway down to the bathrooms with untied boot laces and ten inch spiked heels. Being able to feel anything below your neck at the bottom of the stairs means either your routine was something short of impressive, or you didn't have enough of those shooters...
And then, the premier event of them all... The Marathon!
Everyone goes to the diner and drinks coffee, drinks coffee and then drinks some more coffee until either the whole event falls apart into a huge argument over the merits of Peter Murphy with Bauhaus versus Peter Murphy post Bauhaus, or someone pops a temporal blood vessel and goes four up under the table. Extra points are garnered for the following:
A. Stuttering while asking to bum a cigarette from your friend.
B. Hands shaking too much to light the cigarette you just bummed.
C. Hands shaking too much to hold the cigarette that you just bummed and couldn't light.
D. The most black fingernail polish chips on your teeth from chewing on your nails, because sticking your fingers in your mouth is the only way to stop your hands from shaking...
E. Forgetting to blink.
F. Most trips to the bathroom.
G. Fidgeting... This includes involuntary thrusting out of your legs from under the table and tripping the waitress or kicking your friends.
H. Realizing that, while sitting with head in hand, staring at your reflection in the window for the past hour, that you have drooled the front of your shirt soaking wet...
I. Sticking someone else with the bill...

There are no closing ceremonies, everyone by now has lost interest and has gone home.

pearls before swine...