NOIR IS FINISHED
holy shit I'm exhausted.

Fuck this shit.

I can't make her happy right now.

I'm going back to where I came from.


http://wordsofnoregard.blogspot.com/

bye.

School Activity coordinators have discovered a secret weapon to get their messages across even easier - Terrible Music! Hook up some substandard quality hip hop with quickly slapped together footage of kids having "fun," and you have a sure fire way to get some serious enthusiasm pumpin' in the hizzouse yo.

In my opinion, high school kids should go on a lovely excursion to the sausage factory and come back home in packages.

So, I'm in a Library, of all places. Y'know, where the books live?

And this group of nerds are arguing at this table next to me. It's pretty hilarious, they're getting so worked up over some calculus equations I think they might come to blows over whose calculator is more efficient. All archetypical roles are being observed, including the mediator, trying to maintain a shaky truce, the aggressor, with his spouting T-81 rhetoric, and the bystanders, shivering in their high-tops.

Text was flying, emoticons ran wild, words like "positively" and "conundrum" were tossed back and forth like arrows from enemy kingdoms. If I'm lucky, they may even bust out the lightsabers and have a duel right here and now.

Total downpour last night, which was excellent, and I was stuck in the middle of some weird city with a woman who's feet don't touch the floor when she's riding the bus, which was slightly less excellent.

What they seriously need is to use the fucking internet! Maybe there'll be some breakthrough in internet technology. I hear the powerline stuff is close to being released commercially. I'm just worried that it'll overload the outlets in my apartment's ancient circuitry. I just don't feel like burning to death just so I can download porn faster.

Patrick Gene Roger Hartley is 23 letters.
(7 + 4 + 5 + 7 = 23)

Each parent contributes 23 chromosomes to the DNA of a child.
It takes 23 seconds for blood to circulate throughout the entire body.
There are 23 letters in the Latin alphabet.
Julius Caesar was stabbed 23 times when he was assassinated.
Earth’s axis is off by 23.5 degrees.
The Knights Templar had 23 Grand Masters.
William Shakespeare was born on April 23, 1564.
William Shakespeare died on April 23, 1616.
The ancient Egyptian and Sumerian calendars begin on July 23.
The Titanic sank the morning of April 15th, 1912 (4 + 1 + 5 + 1 + 9 + 1 + 2 = 23)
Jim Carrey’s production company is JC23 Entertainment.
The Mayans said the world would end in 2012. 20+1+2=23.
John Dillinger robbed 26 banks, but only 23 for money.
The distance from the center of Mars to its nearest moon is 23,500 km.
230 people died on TWA Flight 800.
Kurt Cobain was born in 1967: 1+9+6+7 = 23.
Kurt Cobain died in 1994: 1+9+9+4 = 23.
"The Number 23" began filming on January 23, 2006.
The letters in Joel Schumacher add up to 23.
The letters in Virginia Madsen and Jim Carrey’s names add up to 23.
Charles Manson was born on November 12th (11 + 12 = 23)
The Hiroshima Bomb was dropped at 8:15. 8+15=23.

Found this on Trevor's livejournal, in an entry from February 23rd, 2005:

"- Patrick, the Pervert -
If Trevor is the violence side of the Id, Patrick is definately the sex side. Horny, raunchy, and perpetually full of shit, Patrick is a poster child for feminism...most of the time. Occasionally, he can be a geniunely decent human being. For about 10 seconds. Then he goes back to lewd. Most eerie, he's extremely popular in South East Asia. He even almost got married to a girl from Indonesia. But...that's a long, long story."

Some of the journals I peruse on a regular basis are rather gut-wrenchingly angstful. There are some angry little people out there, and they're blogging up quite a storm.

I say angry LITTLE people. Indeed, yes they are little. Small mindedness is a mental malady they attempt to compensate with superflous words and lofty, abstract tangents. I quite frankly do not believe you are fascinated in the difference in synapses between the corpus callosums of a male and female brain.

I do not care if you dislike the Geico commercials. It's not worth reading about, in any case.

The irony of it all is that I am doing exactly that, blogging about things that annoy me, even though I am fully aware that no one. Will. Read. It.


Just had to get that "off my chest," as you say.

What the fuck does that mean?

It's what I am, inappropriate. I'm never quite right. Not exactly what they're looking for.

Not appropriate. *sigh*

Oh well. It's not like I need to be needed.

There's badass.

There's hardcore.

There's badcore ass...hard.

And then? There's Trevor Grube.

There are many exceptional qualities about this amazing work of mankind. I have written a few down, to share with those of you not lucky enough to meet the man himself.

The only reason Neil Armstrong was the first man on the moon was because Trevor roundhouse kicked him up there.

Superman owns a pair of Trevor's pajamas.

Trevor counted to infinity - twice.

You are what you eat. That's why Trevor's diet consists entirely of bricks, steel, and the tears of small children.

Trevor's sweat has the alcohol level of 120.

Trevor can seduce a nun in one minute flat.

Trevor knows Victoria's secret.

When Tom joined Myspace, his first friend was Trevor.

Ninjas vs Pirates? Trevor would win.

Trevor taught Voldemort everything he knows.

After the end of the world, there will be only three words - Directed By Trevor.

I'm in strength training. About to bench.

I randomly start daydreaming. Suddenly, my mind is off the topic of concentration, and onto "Oh man, star wars is pretty kickass. That opening sequence was hardcore when Anakin flew around the thing!" then I'm back.

Everyone's staring at me. I'm like, "whut." Faith Law, with an incredulous look, asks "are you joking around?"

"No....?"

Christensen comes up to me. "Patrick, you alright?"
"Um, yeah?"
"Do you know where you are?"
"Gym, Strength Training 5th period?"
"And do you know who I am?"
"Uh, my slighty scary PE Teacher?"

He smiles a bit. Henry takes me to the nurse. The whole time, I'm like wtf dood?

I just finished 3 Monster Energy Drinks in rapid succession.

My bladder needs immediate attention.

If I don't return from the bathroom, tell my family I love them.

UPDATE: Recently lost consciousness on behalf of said energy drinks. Suffered head trauma in PE class.

Today, saucy ladies and humble gents, is Valentine's Day.

The significance of such a day is not one to take lightly, because Valentine's Day is a holiday most adamant about making your life TOTAL HELL. This is achieved through a variety of reasons.

Archetypically, there are several scenarios to choose from;

- The hero of the story falls passionately in love.....with a foreign object. Comedy.

- The hero of the story falls passionately....down the stairs. Slapstick comedy.

- Unrequited love turned angst, ending in a big dance with everyone married to everyone. Shakespeare.

- Meeting an EVIL girl with (unbeknownst to our hero) an identical twin sister, using this to ultimate advantage. Patrick's goddamn life.

I have advice for all you angstful poetry-writers chasing that special someone. Today might not be the day to make your move. Don't try the surprise tactic. In certain sexual harassment cases things can get kind of touchy.

Going to be a shitload of work.

Am starting Pre-Production in mid-to-late-June.

was alright. The music was loud, the dancing was sexy, the usual.


I danced with a lot of ..... different people. All in all, it was okay.

opened last night, and I went to see it.

It was such a good movie, everyone needs to go see it. Not only was it a Hannibal-fest, which gave it five stars in the first place, but there was KENDO as well! I freaked out. I was like "omfg kendo!"

It was pretty sweet. Gaspard Ulliel's performance as Hannibal Lector was impressive, he did a good job of standing, grinning sadisticly. Gong Li was hot. As always.

Here are a couple pages that I've recently finished for NOIR.

Alright.

I'm offially sick of dealing with people that aren't me.


I don't want to enter into another relationship. Right now I'm feeling like I don't ever want to again.

"I love you a lot, babe.

Please don't take advantage of that."

Take advantage? What does that even mean? Am I abusing your...whatever? Oh my god. I just got this email from a significant other. What does it mean? I've been pacing for the last 40 minutes. WHAT DOES IT MEAN?? This is a problem that I think a lot of girls have when they try to communicate with men.

We don't pick up on your goddamn body language. That's not the reason why we stare. Why be subtle when you can smack someone in the face with a solid point of view? Do us a favor and TALK TO US!!!

And me especially.

I feel like......I'm....in trouble? But I don't think I should be. The image of a recently-slapped Jack Sparrow comes into my mind. "Not sure I deserved that."

Basically, the last few weeks have been complete and total mayhem thanks to Noir, a graphic novel in the making. In the making? Whoa boy. That’s a can of worms if ever I saw one. I’ve been working on the damn thing since early June of 2006. So far, I have a fully developed, complicated storyline, a full range of characters, completed storyboards, and about halfway to where I wanted to be at this point.

Let me give you a brief summary of the story. *clears throat* It’s kinda hard to explain, so here goes nothing;

Detective Jack Reynolds, our fall guy, retires from the police force because he discovers it to be corrupt. His partner, Bruce, sticks with the job and winds up dead. Jack finds out about Bruce’s murder from Bruce’s secretary, Charlie. Charlie and Jack join forces to try and find out who Bruce’s hitman killer was working for. Their search leads them through the underbelly of Benham City, dodging bullets, conspiracy theories and plot twists until their investigation concludes with a climactic showdown between unlikely allies….and enemies.

Some spam I just recieved. They're getting better, y'know.

"Hi

My name is ashly. I found your email on that dating site.
I also love sex on the side. I have a loving partner but he is working
16 hours a day and we have sex only once a week :(
If you are interested and wanna see my pictures just email me at
cashly74@generalworldwide.info
Don`t reply, use the email above (my boyfriend doesn`t know about that email!)"


A for effort, the email was titled "its ashley" and everything.