Below are the 6 most recent journal entries recorded in armendegas' LiveJournal:

Wednesday, February 20th, 2008
11:06 pm	What do you miss most about being comparatively younger? Not being a slow, chunky bastard. I hate being out of breath. I used to hike the Appalachian Trail for fucks sake. Also eating anything I wanted without SHITTING MYSELF IN HALF. What is the best movie scene/moment ever made? At the moment, the entirety of Children of Men. But to actually answer the question, there's one part near the end I won't go too much into detail about since Phil hasn't seen it yet. It's the part where Clive Owen and the girl are leaving the building with all the people around. What's kept you awake at night most recently? Literally the fear of not falling asleep. I will lay awake for what feels like an hour with this stabbing fear of the results of my lack of sleep which then keeps me up even longer. I think I'm going crazy. Who is your favorite person? Ma bruddah. When you share a womb and most of 22 years together, it helps for making common ground. What did you think of The Moon and Sixpence? It was very good. I don't think I pulled the same bitter/jaded GARGH WIMMENZ IS SOUL SUCKING WHORES reaction as Phil did, rather I felt further enlightened by the reminder that I don't require the opinions of others to support myself. I doubt I could stand to be in Charles Strickland's presence, but I do hold a place of envy and honor for him. I'm currently working on Of Human Bondage, which is a far lengthier Maugham piece. (5 Comments |Comment on this)
Friday, July 20th, 2007
7:44 pm	A letter from the twilight zone I recieved this a few days ago from Jessica Summe. For those of you who remember her, this sort of the thing is actually not that surprising, but it still left me agape at how fucking creepy this woman is. Enjoy. [Edit] I took down the letter because she googled herself. I doubt anyone ever read it other than her. You are still creepy, and there is no other clarification. End! (Comment on this)
Thursday, December 7th, 2006
11:15 am	Letter to Emily Sterling September 19, 1921 Dear Ms. Sterling, I must confess my worries that this correspondence was sent in error to the wrong man, but I am sure now that I am the intended recipient. The occasional letters from you have always been a joy to read, this one no exception save its intentions. I admit your romantic interest does not fall on deaf ears or unwilling eyes, but has been aimed on a fairly fickle target. Through nights and days of isolated existence the dream of female companionship has always been entertained in idle hours but never in the practical workings of my mind. The problem lies with two simple truths, that I am both a romantic coward and leper. By this I mean that I am poisoned with a neurotic view of love and courtship, one that is bound with chains of fear. This is not to say that I am one of those sniveling bohemes you see in the cafes, crying out in dark hysterical tongues the contents of their impotent minds. What I am trying to say is that I am a poor man for the job, the fact that this is written in a letter and not stated in person is further evidence. Understand here and now that this is not a rejection of you or your character, if anything they have been the reasons why this decision has been so difficult. This is a rejection of myself, a coward's ploy to escape his duty. An easy lie to tell would consist of stories relating tragic tales of failures in romance, a callow version myself always being at the whims of grease-hearted harlots. Those sorts of stories are easy to fabricate, as source material is simple to come by. I made little effort in my younger days to court girls I had taken a fancy to, with the result being the romantic leper penning this letter. What little effort I did expend was poorly executed, with the small accidents in puppy love compounding into a grown man's entire view of his existence. A warped view of romance has taken me to sitting in the far off seats with the other lepers, bemoaning a fate undeserved. The most painful part of this cowardly leprosy is that I know the cure. I have always seen the errors of my ways but adamantly refused to take any corrective action. The truth forever awaits me, but I refuse it because I haven't the interest to do so. I stubbornly maintain the status quo because it is easier to fear, and simpler to stay a leper. I justify my ideas with flimsy arguments of love eternal and half-hearted standards. I lay awake at nights wondering if I will end my days in solitude, yet I sit here now rejecting my ability to you. You are the kind of woman that a part of me screams is the answer, yet another part screams is another in an ocean of the unattainable and the unwanted. Your reaction to this response will prove one part or another's point, and perhaps you will give me good reason to shatter my foolish theories. Yours in Anxiety, Gigham Young (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Tuesday, November 28th, 2006
2:21 am	Bah! Letter to Brian Young, October 5, 1920 Dear Brian, You really mustn't pass on my thoughts to mother, I thought you more loyal than that. I get letters from her almost daily, scribbled in dreadful and fretful tones of worrisome woe that her baby boy will never find himself a proper lady. She's been constant in her reminders to refrain from turning to sordid solutions, an idea no doubt planted by you. While the thoughts of walking into the redder quarters of the city have flitted through my mind, she needn't worry about her son straying into any sinful houses. I think you will find it especially amusing to hear that I did ask a young lady to join me for a show a week ago, a move not often chanced on account of my gutless nature. You know all too well how craven I am when it comes to women, you never stopped reminding me of it in school. The lady is one Julia Stark, a family of modest station living several blocks away from my flat. She is a shy girl, just the type for me, hiding a sharp wit and intellect behind her doeful nature. I have been a mere acquaintance of sorts for several months now, seeing her in cafes and around the university. Our conversation has always been light and pleasant, moving constantly from mere humor to the most serious discussions of philosophy. I had not seen her in over a week so I found it necessary to drop a letter by her house, as her father is never kindly upon letting young gentlemen indoors without a chastity belt. Her reply came several days later, expressing an interest but showing no sign of the hope I had written into my own letter. When the night of our first outing arrived I came to her door only to find that she was just about to leave with her usual train of girls, heading for a club. She had been confused by the day of our engagement, claiming that she thought it was the next Friday that we would be meeting. I was very nonplussed by the mistake but I was of course quite congenial and courteous, knowing the error was an honest one. I traded the tickets for Morton’s keys to his Citroen for the night and treated myself to a drive. After the first error, I felt that we were back on track to a second and hopefully far more successful attempt. I sent her another letter, when it did not get any replies, I tried calling upon her at home with only her frumpy father to wave me off. I was beginning to feel a scent of trouble until I finally saw her in the halls of the university. She seemed skittish and ambiguous in her presence, I spoke to her only shortly before she quickly took off and disappeared around the corner. I wished for a harpoon to appear in my hands so that I could drag her back, but as luck would have it God did not grant me anything of the sort that day. The girl was driving me mad, but it was a minor itch in the back of my mind until her short note arrived at the door. She had written very quickly and hastily, apologizing for her behavior and telling me that I had been too aggressive in my approach. This statement nailed me to my seat. Too aggressive? I thought back hard, realizing that my insistence could easily have taken a strange hue in her eyes, making me look a shadowy character. I could begin to understand how she saw this as too aggressive, but it didn’t feel aggressive at all to me. This was a push of effort unseen by the likes of Gigham Young in all his romantic life. You know as well as I that my inclinations and inspirations with women has had all the momentum of molasses and the weight of a tidal wave of cotton balls. To hear that this cottony slop was in danger of smashing the seawall itself was astounding. I suppose my inexperience would lead me to take my endeavor in a poor direction or perhaps I misread the lady. After years of letting interested ladies go off into the arms of other men in frustration, I was defeated by what should have been the turning point for Gigham Young. As you have already guessed this unrejecting rejection sent my mind into a wild tailspin of feverish thought, wondering if I should give up the fight and collapse back to the safety of the fort. Now I am unsure of what move I should make, to charge ahead or to fall back? At the moment time is the only factor I can rely on. Whatever may come, I will keep you informed of my movements. And don’t go talking to Mother, she’ll only start writing wedding plans. Your Inconceivable Brother, Gigham Young (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Saturday, October 14th, 2006
2:35 pm	1) Open your library (iTunes, Winamp, Media Player, iPod, etc.) 2) Put it on shuffle 3) Press play 4) For every question type the song that's playing 5) When you go to new question press the next button Don't lie and try to pretend you're cool... And I swear to god there were no lies. This was completely random. Opening Credits: Smothers Brothers - The Four Winds and the Seven Seas Waking Up: Gnarls Barkley - Crazy First Day at School: Gustavo Santaolalla - Does He Who Looks For the Truth, Deserve the Punishment for Finding it? Falling in Love: Luke "Scratch" Perry - Exit the Dragon Fight Song: Van Halen - Running With the Devil Breaking Up: Bernard Hermann - Diary of a Taxi Driver(Album Version) Prom: Wild Thing - Kermit, Floyd, and Animal Life: Buddy Rich - Love For Sale Mental Breakdown: The Doors - Tell All the People Driving: Cake - I Will Survive Flashback: Samurai Champloo - 2nd Ending Getting Back Together: The Strokes - Is This It? Wedding: Beegees - (Title not working. Its pretty standard Beegees fare, so use your imagination.) Birth of Child: John Cage - In A Landscape 3 Final Battle: Radiohead - Creep (FUCK YES.) Death: Mint Royale - Singing in the Rain (Fuzzy Groove Remix- this is the song from the Golf GTI commercial with the break dancing Gene Kelly) Funeral Song: Queen - Somebody to Love End Credits: NWA - 100 Miles and Running (1 Comment |Comment on this)
Thursday, October 20th, 2005
3:02 pm	You've reached the Yo mama hotline. For Options in english, press 1. Greta Bon partemente treacle in furious spitious dunderhas, press 2. If you are a lost young child seeking the answers to life and a delicious piece of candy, step into the van. For more options, press your head to the monitor and murmur "I'm a sexy little googoosh" until a group of men in white coats assist you. (Comment on this)