Invoking Brett Ashley

Time:

3:20 am.

Just some old myspace profiles. Shit that amuses me. Wallowing through psyche, etc.

In re-reading some of these, I am once again struck by the profound resonance of the Diogenes story as well as some of my own former philosophies. Although I definitely got delusional there for a while.

A misanthopic alcoholic with a chip on one shoulder and my heart on my sleeve. Please ignore all those times when I get drunk and act like a reckless, horrible, immature, messy whore. I think celibacy would probably cure the world's problems and romance is a trap to destroy lives. I hate it when my friends become involved with anyone. I love my puppies so much, that I don't even mind when they shit in my house. I love getting a drink on the house for last call. People think SCUM manifesto is a joke, but if you read it enough times, the lady has a point. I think the school I'm attending is systematically trying to eat the town it's housed in, and Durham is the fucking best place on earth. All things are possible here. Except a vegan restauarant, but I blame that on Duke fucking them all up the ass. My feet are really ugly, the podiatrist thought I had a rash and I was like "no that's just my feet." I also cut off all my hair because the dyke look is IN. Sometimes I stay up until 4:00 in the morning to finish a book. Others, I stay up until that time trying to prevent myself from getting taken home from the bar. In case you didn't know, I'm drunk right now.<3
Come out and cheer on the Ta'i Chi-tah's (aka the best team in the league) at CRG and watch them win games despite me!
When not on wheels, I play with my band The Relatively Calm, they're the best musician friends a person could ask for. We're playing a show on May 30, you should come, and we will rock you. =) and then there's my side project to ventmy need to complain about everyone who I have ever had the sex with. I can't leave this last sentence with a dangling preposition so I'm just writing this to ensure that doesn't happen. P.S. I wish there was a checkbox under there that said "children frighten me."
Who I'd like to meet:
Peyton Marshall or someone else who knows who she is.
Diogenes.

I'm being published in Rolling Stone. But just a letter to the editor ripping them a new one for bad reporting. I love Durham, North Carolina more than any place on earth. With the exception of anything on the carribean sea, or with a tropical climate, a beach and NO PEOPLE.
I wish I were a hermit with a recording studio. I miss everyone I ever loved who is dead/gone/too busy. Once upon a time I had free time but now I work at the WC (with my wonderfully PC ass and my puppies I'm sure everyone is very comfortable) and Legalaid (that's what you get for free!). I also play with The Relatively Calm, and skate with theTa'i Chi-tah's (all of whom are lovely ladies) at CRG (most of whom are lovely ladies) and so I don't have time for much else what with my drinking.
Those other spare moments mainly go to writing songs about rockstars I fuck and mental disorders I'm developing, biting my lovely and amazing bartender, stumbling around downtown in crazy shoes and walking my pups =).
P.S. I wish there was a checkbox under there that said "children frighten me." Especially since I'm off the pill and that's just about the scariest prospect I can forsee.
Who I'd like to meet:
Prussian Blue...if their parents say it's okay to socialize with queers and mongrels.
Diogenes.

Was published in Rolling Stone. Currently been on a weeklong binge because I can't play with Ta'i Chi-tah's at CRG because I fucked my knee.
Instead, I'm trying to play with The Relatively Calm, but Tony's off doing bigger and better, and Anil A is in Turkey! So time this month goes to singing songs about the mess that is my life, drinking until my kidneys hurt (they do right now!), trying to get me and all my friends crazy laid (still working that angle) and being a dreadful mess of a human being, and loving every second of it.
Going off the pill was probably a really bad decision in retrospect, but it's too late now, bitches. If you're jailbait, AIM me at Hemingwayposse and give me your number.
Who I'd like to meet:
Prussian Blue...if their parents say it's okay to socialize with queers and mongrels.
Diogenes.

I am a free market capitalist queer theorist, which means I don't believe in love or a mixed style economy and am completely hypocritical. I believe you can escape emptiness with devotion to a hobby and success as defined by our society, and that our society's definition of success happens to be narrow, gendered and wrong. The key to life is to avoid despair and delusion, and in many cases, the best way to do that is to remain busy and keep all relationships superficial.
The Replacements are my favorite American rock band, but I like a lot of the queer girl bands of the early 90s too. Sometimes, I can't fall asleep for a few hours because I am thinking about arrangements of songs. I used to skate in the roller derby, but recently (because these late night arrangement sessions interfere with both my ability to perform at work and sleep) I have been exhausted and too busy completing work I should've done while practicing to go. As a result I've gained 10 pounds and feel like a bum.
We often discuss the days that I "did things" and I aspire to begin skating again some time soon. Once my mother is in remission and this semester is over and I sort out exactly how to avoid despair (I've got delusion down pat), I'll start doing things again.
I've also got lousy taste in friends, sexual partners and literature. I like blood, psychological thrillers and anyhing having to do with getting away with murder. Death as a random inevitability excites the existentialist in me. However, seeing everything, no matter how mundane, to the end horrifies the hedonist in me.
I've got two puppies with yin-yang personalities who I don't give nearly enough attention. I've got a 5 course schedule, a part time job and what I am determined to diagnose as CFS. I've got a secret vocabulary. I've got spicolis, chucks and good reason for my "attitude," thank you very much.
Who I'd like to meet:
Deadlines. Or Paul Westerberg.

bout me:
Devoted to all the wrong people, passionate about all the wrong things.
Ta'i Chi-tah's and CRG.
The Relatively Calm or Betsy Shane
Calm, assertive pack leader, yo.
Halmooky (2:49:46 AM): I just worry I'll have a repeat of thursday
Halmooky (2:49:48 AM): or friday
Halmooky (2:49:51 AM): whichever day that was
Halmooky (2:49:55 AM): with the ugly dumb guy
Who I'd like to meet:
The people who thought up Spanganga's infamous Darkness Falls gatherings or Cesar Millan.
Diogenes.

About me:
I am always doing things I don't want to do, but in that case there's nobody to blame but myself.
I lie to myself all the time, it's lying to other people that trips me up.
I am worth a good goddamn, but that might be all.
I will live your regrets for you
Who I'd like to meet:
The attention-whoring oddballs. The offbeat. The in-their-own-worlds. The chickenshits. The selfish. The beautiful. The awful. The liars. The unsalvagable. The jealous. The jaded. The bitter. The always right. The unwashed masses. The utterly unreliable. The casually arrogant. The neer-do-wells. The troublemakers. The not worth my time.

About me:
Slightly overweight girls need sex also
Send your note and desires
Means of contact P.O. Box 8941
(or)
We're gettin' no place fast as we can
Get a noseful from our so-called friends
Who I'd like to meet:
Deadlines.

Blurbs
About me:
I used to be Brett Ashley, but now I'm Sula Peace. The only men who ever hit on me are rapists or foreign. I secretly want to be a veterinarian, but am too lazy to go to school again. I openly want to hit the lottery, buy a house and a bar, then make my own hours as an entrepreneur. I have a truly unhealthy reverence for all south and east Asian cuisines. Whiskey pretty much dictates my mood. I am a very jealous person. On skates, I get that taste of danger that keeps me from jumping into shark tanks. Neon yellow is a really neat color. I play more instruments than you do. The tests all say I'm very smart, but I've yet to see any hard evidence supporting that.
Who I'd like to meet:
Dog people, cynics*, anyone who can drink or sleep more than I can.

*The stories told of Diogenes illustrate the logical consistency of his character. He inured himself to the vicissitudes of weather by living in a tub belonging to the temple of Cybele. He destroyed the single wooden bowl he possessed on seeing a peasant boy drink from the hollow of his hands. When asked how to avoid the temptation to lust of the flesh, Diogenes began masturbating. When rebuked for doing so, he replied, "If only I could soothe my hunger by rubbing my belly."
He used to stroll through the Agora at full daylight with a torch (or, as legend sometimes has it, a lantern). When asked what he was doing, he would answer, "I am just looking for an honest man." Diogenes looked for an honest man, and reputedly found nothing but rascals and scoundrels.

I hate lying, liars, omission and trying to save people's feelings, but even more so, I hate that they are a part of being a functional person. Isn't it ironic that you have to accept these loathesome untruthes, that these daily betrayals and false representations must become your reality, and you must be able to negotiate seas of artifice and discover meaning in order to construct a reality?
Obsessed with the past, time travel, recreation and historical accuracy. Frantic to keep things the same despite the inescapable reality that everything changes.
Stippled is the love of my life / I breathe in shine.

am: a student, a negative nancy, punk fucking rock
I adore: dogs, blondes, neon yellow, witty banter, summer, bad movies, wrists and beer
I like: acrylic knits, dogging, cassettes, pie, indie rock of yore and scrabble
I dislike: improper grammar, misogyny, capri pants, dairy products, underachievers and that newfangled heavy metal music
I abhor: liars, wine, temperatures below forty degrees, politics, yams and winter squash
Who I'd like to meet:
The people who brought us wordie.org

I hate lying, liars, omission and trying to save people's feelings, but even more so, I hate that they are a part of being a functional person. Isn't it ironic that you have to accept these loathesome untruthes, that these daily betrayals and false representations must become your reality, and you must be able to negotiate seas of artifice and discover meaning in order to construct a reality?
Obsessed with the past, time travel, recreation and historical accuracy. Frantic to keep things the same despite the inescapable reality that everything changes.
Stippled is the love of my life / I breathe in shine.
Who I'd like to meet:
Dog people, cynics*, anyone who can drink or sleep more than I can.

*The stories told of Diogenes illustrate the logical consistency of his character. He inured himself to the vicissitudes of weather by living in a tub belonging to the temple of Cybele. He destroyed the single wooden bowl he possessed on seeing a peasant boy drink from the hollow of his hands. When asked how to avoid the temptation to lust of the flesh, Diogenes began masturbating. When rebuked for doing so, he replied, "If only I could soothe my hunger by rubbing my belly."
He used to stroll through the Agora at full daylight with a torch (or, as legend sometimes has it, a lantern). When asked what he was doing, he would answer, "I am just looking for an honest man." Diogenes looked for an honest man, and reputedly found nothing but rascals and scoundrels.

You want to try and tell me what to do?!.

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