Buster McLeod

supastar bites back oh my

supastar bites back

oh my goodness! what is this? oh my goodness again! i have found perhaps the best written entry in all of diaryland. please, read the whole thing. oh, now that the directory is rearranged, i expect all of you to join me in the competition to get featured as the member of the moment. what will it take? your life may be featured for a moment. why did verdana get it first? despite being sort of a passive aggressive poetry mom by my first impression, the diary does look nice. let's race.

yesterday, i had a dream that consisted of these words being spoken to me:

"You little bugger...you used my quote... you think it's funny... monkies have a greater intellegence level then you do... rock on B bopper and if I ever catch the likes of you in my tripod vortex again your critical little brain will sucome to my milicous powers. I've seen your goddamn page... you think your Jesus Christ or some shit.... Well your not.... I AM... bow down to the one who is known by all as..."

(here's where I wake up, only with a sinister "mahaahahahhahah" echoing in my ear.)

weird.

anyway, the rest of the day was pretty normal.

meaning that i received one piece of hate-email; i woke up at 8pm; and the friends expressed their love for me, however were wary of my true intents. good day. how was yours?

before i tell you about

before i tell you about the myriad of replies from the bestest friends let's begin today off with a nice diary quote:

"Yes, Erin and I used to be good friends. But, you seen, buddy, I've outgrown your little shopping sprees, mommy and daddy's Visa, and your Jeep Grand Cherokee. You have to see there is more important things in life besides money (editor: like grammar and spelling?). Good friends (and you are no longer one of mine), liqior, and drugs is all you need."
-supastar

i think she learned this because she, like the friends, recently saw American Beauty. emulation is a form of flattery, they say. even if it's all you do?

now to some news: i've been written to by each and every one of the friends, and sometimes even twice. they love themselves. they say so.

one of them has invited me to join the group. lest they become cruel and retract the offer, i'll have to suspend my response until the end of this entry.

another of them was confused by the term "alpha male" until it was explained both by a coworker, and by celine (who i'd forgotten to include in the list, sorry!) that the alpha male is:

"A traditional male with all his urges, strengths and assertiveness, but also a more focused, healthy and sensitive "man". This guy is strong, powerful, dynamic, etc. but also fun loving, spontaneous and joyful."

no, no, no!!

i'm talking about the head gorilla here. or, if you prefer, the lead wolf. big boss. kill him to usurp him. i see josh seething in the background (although he was kind enough to inform me of celina's existance, possibly because she likes him). can we expect a friendly revolution from you josh? will you get together with celina in baltimore, josh?

and finally, i was asked if my link to them was a cut. no, not at all! i love you all, i adore you all, let me be part of the group, take me in, let me go to baltimore! i cut not.

vanity can't win by being

vanity can't win by being bored.

in other news, i see some people writing long entries. and some people i know are writing really long diary entries. maybe we should try to cut back a bit, and give our minds a rest.

here are two sentences that typify what i'm beginning to see a lot of -- too much of:

"i have mono" and "today was the day to do errands."

please don't do this anymore.

diary quote of the day:

diary quote of the day:

"OK two weeks ago my ex, Melinda, and I broke up cause she cheated on me and since I'm a football player it's not hard to find girls that are even slightly atracted to me for one reason or another," says jerseythug15

i've been paralysed these last couple days. asking myself, why is the silent majority silent? are they at least listening?

because criticism isn't in me tonight, here are a few diary snippets from my own life:

i was in a dream last night (not my own) in which i was on stage with ricky martin (at the mtv music awards where he had a bunch of girls painted in gold glittery paint) -- and the dreamer informed me as it was almost time to wake up that i was not gold, but beige.

at work there was an upheaval involving a consultant coming and rearranging our schedules. people were upset. people were crying and yelling. managers were shocked. the VP swooped down and soothed us with his patented text-book solutions-specific manner. after the meeting he told me how my job would change. i wrote him a long e-mail with ideas. he wrote back the next day with, "Thanks, . I will get back to you." where do i work?

Here are some stats:

Average age of diarist: 14
Average movie they watched this week: American Beauty. Again.
Average concept they thought: I fear that I am boring.
Average physical state: common cold
Average emotional state: bored
Average social state: lonely
Average primary need: to be read, to be told they are read by signing their guestbook.
Average number of entries per week: 3
Average number of times they submit the same entry so it shows up multiple times in the directory: 2
Average template: orange stars
Average favorite band: Blink 182, Christina Aguilera
Average attention span: 3 seconds.
Estimated number of diaries last week: 20
Estimated number of diaries this week: 100
Your average path: to obscurity.
Average reaction to this fate: indifference.
Do you want to be anonymous? no.

i think this guy may

i think this guy may be on the right track, but i'm not sure.

i don't think we are working hard enough to warrant the number of eyes that we are reaching -- we don't deserve to be read (but then again, are we worth much as readers). how important did something have to be in order for it to be read by 50 people 200 years ago compared to how important something has to be now to be read by that many people? are most people now selling their time a little too cheaply? do we pass our dull days only to read about other peoples' dull days? to gain some sort of flimsy comfort from that? do the people with exciting days actually want to sell their experiences to our cheap eyes?

what do people like ladybug add to the argument -- people who write only to be read (and can it be assumed that they also live only to be watched)?

is she just the most transparent one here -- when actually she is unknowingly representing all of us?

or, on the other hand, is chaya a more accurate spokesperson for the masses -- she writes until she is heard, and then she keeps to herself. i suspect that she wants to say more (and maybe actually does say more) than she lets on to. and apparently people are listening. but we're cheap.

*personal note to bjorn: do you not know who i am? i've been to your house. well, a house you once lived in, as you were living in it, long ago. you may not remember me though.

*personal note to self: i do not remember what i ate for breakfast yesterday. have been thinking for 10 minutes about this. this is a bad sign. if i can't remember it, then i don't own the time that i spent eating. someone has stolen that time. i must get it back. if i had been careless before about leaving simple segments of time lying around, no more. i will be on guard for the thief in the night, waiting under the table as i eat breakfast this morning, guarding, aware of the slightest breeze over tablecloth.

personal note to you: how much are you worth for reading that? i think i got a deal.

there hasn't been much to watch on the vanity watch watch recently.

it appears that the trick

it appears that the trick of appearing mysterious is to drop names. those whose names are dropped are either offended or fascinated. here are some recent responses:

entry in which geoff proves to be a productive man after all.

entry in which charlotte becomes slightly offended, but sports a new pink template.

and a rather interesting entry from serena in which she includes herself in the spectator crowd and comments on herself as growing, rather than being unhappy. it is late, isn't it.

conclusion: people love to be watched -- that's why we read our friends' diaries (paper or plastic), we hope to be a character within. hopefully a protagonist. a hero. but unfortunately we aren't and so we have to write ourselves into our own diaries.

but the lists aren't popular, it appears. the temptation of cruelty, it seems, is too high. we find ourselves on the brink of violence. well, i'm not giving up, the softness i find in some of these entries is like a bad, yet comfortable relationship -- we need to break it apart before there will be anything of virtue to talk of. but i've begun with only the good list for now. i hope people will not be hurt. this is my diary after all.

It may be a little

It may be a little too early to say for sure, but i suspect these diaries can get a little violent. i'm considering these aspects of diary writing, in combination with the internet:

diaries were originally created so we could secretly hurt other people's feelings with our thoughts.

the other reason for diaries was so we could confess to the thoughts that would otherwise land us in prison, or social exclusion.

these potentially controversial feelings and thoughts (if written in the diary -- and what good is a diary if it doesn't have these things) although under the pretense of being private, have been written from day one with the assumption that someone would read them (do you really think that lock will keep people out?).

hopefully, that day wouldn't come until long after we were gone and either the aliens that invade or else some all-forgiving Father would read our diaries and say, 'ah, how little we knew this complex life form, how little we knew.'

in reality, however, enemies are the first people in this world who want to see your diary, therefore you have only one chance: read theirs first.

that way the violence will tip in your favor.

now, i have to admit, i haven't been treating this as a diary -- that's because i have another diaryland diary for that = computer nerd times two, plus a clue.

on that note, i ponder the existence of persuasion. do these diaries in some way persuade us to have better lives? as mentioned indirectly here should we view life as material for diaries? i see this point brought up again and again -- where does this mentality come from? come on people, i feel like saying something like, "do we live for the written word or does the written word live for US?" but that would be in bad taste.

or do they tempt us to use secrets against others? i have secrets. i am vulnerable. at the end of a day i wonder if i'll have something to say or if i just want to point to a few more unhappy girls and unproductive boys. and i in no way dislike these people. but nor do i love them. it is a sad state of affairs, this indifference that for some reason grips me.

how interesting when people are

how interesting when people are smitten when you mention their name, and what an ironic name you have. and you know andrew too? how many friends does that guy have? there's another ironic thing about your entry, but i don't know if i can handle two ironies at one time. maybe later.

i see a problem: what i see diarists running into is that darn they haven't written in a while -- at least not in a way that gave any practice to putting thoughts into words. sure, college papers and such, but what real feeling goes into those?

but then there's cherry who runs into the same problem that many people in camp four (the popular self-absorbed camp) seem to run across: and that is called trying too hard. reabsorb some of that college indifference, and you're on your way.

bjorn needs to write another entry. or he'll be in the camp of first entries forever. is your computer okay buddy? i haven't seen you in years (10?). well, now about me: i'm falling into the trap of talking too much about the specks in other peoples' eyes. so fascinating, those specs. my vision, however, is failing. sometimes i can see things, and other times i make large oversights. for example i haven't been using caps, and my whole lesson on writing guidelines is shot. i wanted to stand on my ergo chair and say:

* please don't add letters to your words for emphasis.
* don't make those smiley faces, like this --> :)
* don't talk about how you're getting over the initial nervousness of having a diary.
* you can talk about how you're a writer, but i wouldn't really advise it.

this would've gone on for a while yet, but like i said, i'm not using caps. hey bryan where's your diary?