15 days later... still drink-less
Current mood: rejuvenated

I just heard a gate squeak in my HEAD.

10:21 PM - 6 Comments - 8 Kudos - Add Comment

I may be crazy... but it just may be a lunatic you're looking for.
Current mood: Like a Nutzoid
Category: Like a Nutzoid Games

So, I just got a referral in the mail for psychiatric help.

It's something I went to my community doctor for, not something that came as junk mail. "Hey, we drew your name out of a lottery, and you've won 12 free psychiatric sessions... if you send us your full name, phone number, bank account and social security numbers. By the way, we are totally legit." What a great deal! That would be awesome. My credit's shitty anyway-- I'm not afraid of identity theft. If anyone tries to use my credit, their wages will get garnished. I should probably just post my social all over the internet so thieves can help me pay down my ex boyfriend's debt.

The referral has me diagnosed as "unspecified affective psychosis." It is translated (according to medical dictionaries) as "emotional problems." This is modern medicine, people, and we have a fancy sounding name for everything. I'm sure there's a drug out there for it, too.

I recently decided to take a break from drinking. It's been five days and the voice in my head that I started drinking in order to silence is back, with about six others. Luckily I have at least a mild case of ADD so even when they tell me to set fire to the am/pm, I'm too easily distracted by their constant chatter to complete the task.

Currently listening : Billy Joel Greatest Hits: Vol. 1-2 (2CD) By Billy Joel Release date: 1998-10-20

1:51 AM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment

Man? Woman? Both?

SomeA LOT OF people have told me that I am as close as you can get to being a dude without actually having the appropriate plumbing.
I recently googled my name, and this wiki entry came up. I'm not sure what language it is in, but surely it describes how Jaqi is the appropriate name for me. The following is the image attached to the page.


If I am wrong in my assumption about this entry, someone should surely correct me; although I don't know if anyone in this world/dimension can do so, as I have no idea whether or not the entry is in a language of this world. I'm almost positive it's the fourth-dimensional dinosaur language, and they are trying to slander my name, due to the fact that I have begun to "out" them, following in the footsteps of my idol, David Icke.

Well, dinosaurs.... your slander doesn't work when it's in a language no one can read. So there. And you can't threaten me, either-- if I die of anything... particularly giant bite wounds, people are going to see the truth.

Currently reading : Children of the Matrix: How an Interdimensional Race has Controlled the World for Thousands of Years-and Still Does By David Icke

1:45 AM - 3 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

Speaking of hypochondria

I could be creating diseases from the symptoms I imagine myself to have. Then again, my fear that I'm a hypochondriac could just be in my head.

I was diagnosed with bipolar II, a long time ago. Seriously, stand me next to a compass and watch the needle spin. I don't take drugs for it... legal ones... I've learned to cope by not coping and just drowning in misery every once in a while. But now, it looks like I might have ADD, too... which makes sense. I'm so ADD my moods get distracted. At least if I find out I do have ADD, it'll be something to blame again. (This is very exciting after a long period of taking "personal responsibility" for everything, which I'm beginning to believe is quite overrated.)

I was reminded of a moment of clarity, the other day. I was incredibly hungover once (just once) and a friend offered me aderol (sp?) which is supposed to have an upper sort of effect for the normal minded, non-ADD sort of crazies. I was looking to get hyper enough I'd forget how shitty I felt. I took it, and all it did was make me incredibly focused on how tired and hungover I was.

So, the other morning, I awoke to a commercial that began with the sentence: "if you're easily distracted, you may want to pay attention to this message." First of all, SINCE I'm easily distracted, you're lucky I made it through that SENTENCE. I don't want to think about how drawn out this message is going to be, if that's what you're starting with. Hey, if you're a basketball player, you MAY want to stop being so damn tall. If you're a prostitute, you MAY want to stop having sex. If you're a basketball prostitute, stay away from Kobe. That son of a bitch never pays.

So obviously I drifted mentally during the commercial, but made it back from whatever random task I was contemplating starting (but never finishing) just in time to hear the company was running a drug test for adults with ADD. I went online to apply, and see how the numbers ran.
While taking the test, I almost missed answering an entire section of it. THAT'S how the numbers ran. And they called me regarding my potential participation, within the hour.
Yep. It's that obvious.
I don't know any details because they haven't told me any yet. They probably figure I wouldn't pay attention anyway. They'll save that for the end of the study, when I'm able to concentrate long enough to understand them.

So now, I'm scheduled for an assessment with an actual doctor, tomorrow. I figure the true test is whether or not I show up. They'll call me up tomorrow, "Ummm where are you?" "Oh, right... I'm at the park. I saw a kite. I bought the kite. I went to the park. Now I'm eating the kite." "Congratulations! You get free drugs that will either focus you, or make you grow hairy nipples on your knee caps." Either way, JACKPOT. You mean I'll either get sane or have something new on my body to play with? Win/Win.
I am a little concerned about taking ADD drugs with the manic depression and all. I mean, I would have killed myself years ago if I wasn't so easily distracted.

On a side note, I have now watched Japanese reality TV. It is terrible. It's WAY worse than American reality TV. And I mean so bad that it actually made me happy we bombed them.

5:26 PM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

wherein i cause discomfort for the faint of heart (or vaginally tight-walled in religion)...
Current mood: rockin
Category: Religion and Philosophy

I'm agnostic because I'm too busy to seek out the true religion. I am sure that if I had like an hour more per day for about two days, I'd be able to uncover the ultimately true religion. That's all it would take: an extra two hours. I'd uncover the truth like Hercule Poirot on a dinner train murder mystery. Instead I spend my time actually living my life, and not worrying about what will happen after it's over. When I research religions, I only examine obscure ones. Why waste time on the common ones that everyone knows about? They bore me. I'd much rather read about an ancient race of uber-intelligent dinosaur people that are trying to take over the world through shapeshifting into human form and causing racial and religious wars. At least that religion explains fossils. And I'd much rather believe in an ancient race of lizard people than a bunch of ignorant bigotted dumbshits. At least then, the popularity of Barney would finally make sense. They're brainwashing our children to take commands young. Trying to explain that in my mind is much more interesting than trying to explain the average belief system. I've heard all the standard religious arguments and they have made me biased towards those religions before I even had the chance to form my own opinion. Were the jews right to crucify Jesus? What if they knew something about Jesus that we don't know today? Maybe Jesus owed the wrong person some money. Or maybe he was just really into S&M, things got carried away, and he forgot the safe word. That's right—I AM suggesting that Jesus died trying to get his rocks off, and now we worship him for it… as well we should. At least he died doing what he loved.

I've decided how I want to die. I want to be shot, while on ecstasy.  I used to take ecstasy, and I think getting shot would feel amazing. I could even make it seem heroic—if someone was trying to shoot someone else, I would totally jump out in front of the bullet "here bullet, let me massage your shoulders. You've had a long hard day of piercing flesh. Cuddle puddle… of blood."

Ooh, she's joking about death. That's not comfortable. Neither is life most of the time. I like joking about the darker stuff. At least then I'm not a hack. I can't be a hack if I'm the one of the few who jokes about it.

Speaking of hack, let's give it up for the troops. Actually, I say let's stop giving it up for the troops because chances are: they're not over there giving it up for us. And for that lack of action, troops, according to the golden rule-- you don't deserve our applause. What goes around comes around, troops, and I doubt that before they go into any battle the commanding officer calls out "hey let's give it up for Americans." We're over here, working hard to live the free lives that you are fighting for, and you can't even respectfully clap for us before you go out and shoot some crazy Iraqi suicide bombers? You've got no respect for what we're doing over here. This is a job we didn't even sign up for, but we've taken it upon ourselves to live free lives while we battle people that want to take it away from us. We're fighting our own war, people, every time we try to order transitive fats at a drive thru, or want to drunk-text while driving to a "friends" house in the middle of a blackout. What happened to mastering the art of multi-tasking? Don't judge me for being able to text while I talk to my sister on the phone and change my self-help cd while searching for a free wifi signal on my computer in the passenger seat so I can talk via webcam to my friend in London. According to several managers, that makes me prime executive material. Now if only I talked to any of those managers about anything with the least bit of substance, maybe I could get a sweet ass job. Yet I find myself limited by the limits they set on what they believe I know because I am "just a waitress." Fuck em. Somebody's got to, and I can't seem to lower myself (or my work pants) to do so.

Kisses forever.

Currently listening : The Most Relaxing Classical Album in the World...Ever! By Johann Sebastian Bach Release date: 30 March, 1999

1:40 AM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

It’s that time again.

Today is a very special day. Every year on this day(ish), everyone in my family gets together to celebrate the anniversary of my conception. I think it's sweet of them to care that much. It's a little weird that they make me watch football when I don't even like it that much. And today's game seemed almost as slow as last night's UFC fights. Although it was pretty great to see a man with hay bale hooks tattooed onto his shoulders get his ass guillotined into a tap out by a guy half his size, even if I did have to tolerate a couple of douchebags hitting on me. I did get two Jameson's out of the deal-- so I'm not complaining too much.

But yes. 26 years ago today(ish), I was conceived. Joe Montana was playing his first full season as quarterback for the 49ers. They were playing the Bengals, though I'm pretty sure my dad was the tiger that day... I'm just glad they weren't playing the Browns because I might not have been born (heyo).

How did I find out about this magical night? My dad told me over my birthday dinner at the age of sixteen. "We were at a party, we all had a few drinks in us..." I'm pretty sure I could have found out the position that did it had I not stopped him.

Oh, my dad and his stories. Like the explanation of his need for a vaccination at one point. "You know, because of all of the orgies."

Lovely night, everyone.

1:47 AM - 1 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Happy Belated Thanksgiving
Current mood: blessed
Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes

Thanksgiving is the epitome of American holidays. The only reason it's still around is because it involves food. It's just an excuse for us all to gorge ourselves on even larger portions than our already bigger than a pile of elephant shit servings we shovel down our salivating gullets in order to fill the void that wouldn't even be there if we actually let ourselves enjoy things. We've gotten to the point in our society when we need an excuse to do anything that involves pleasure of any kind. We have a few specific things that take the brunt of the blame: If we drink too much, it's called New Years, or the weekend. If we eat too much, it's called a day. If we have sex too much, we blame it on drinking too much, or eating a specific thing. How about just saying "I made that choice. I was having fun in the moment." Why do we have to think of our living in the moment as a negative? Maybe having sex with the guy I met last night wasn't a side-effect of booze, maybe it was a choice. Maybe I wanted to see if I was immune to herpes. But that's all a long winded aside to the point I was about to make poorly.

I think Thanksgiving actually started as a fasting ceremony. I think that the Indians and Pilgrims stood in a circle and shared their gratefulness: the Indians for the bountiful tobacco crops, the Pilgrims for God helping them find some people to give their old ratty blankets to. They were cluttering up the wagon space. But, I say that the following year, someone said "hey, remember what we did last year, let's make that a tradition." And someone else said "that'd be shitty, but I'll go if there's free food." If there wasn't food involved, not one person would wake up early on their day off to go fight 3 hours of nightmare traffic on their way to some generic suburb to see relatives so obscure you haven't seen them since you were twelve (and they're STILL pinching your cheeks), just so you can answer the question "what are you up to these days?" about 60 times while you "fast for freedom." It wouldn't happen.

This holiday was special to me because it was the first time I actually got drunk around my whole family, including the kids. In my opinion, the day that you become an adult is the day you get drunk with your family on a holiday. When you're young, there's this need to create the illusion for your family that you're on your way to contributing something to society, and that you have no plans to kill that momentum with things as distracting as fun, alcohol, or promiscuity. As interesting as those things may be, they have no place in the life of the family's rising star (you) who is on her way to curing the world's problems through her  half completed visual arts degree that she "took a break" from 3 years ago but plans on returning to so she can get a 50000 dollar piece of paper that qualifies her to wait tables the rest of her life. The day you become an adult is the day that you can realize that it's about time you gave up on that façade because everyone else knows that instead of getting drunk with them, you're just hung over from the night prior which, quite frankly, is killing their buzz and you should stop being such a jerk about it.

And yes, I realize that I'm being a total and utter hypocrite with all this talk of letting go of hope and facing the inevitable, since I write jokes in order to help people realize the "truth," however dishonest that truth may be. I don't lie, I create truth. I believe my point of view can help change the world when it can't even help change me. If that isn't optimistic, I don't know what is.

That's kind of a depressing note to end on, so instead, I'll end on one word that should be a little more uplifting.

Cancer.

Come on, if it wasn't so awful, it'd sure be a funny word!

Currently reading : One Little, Two Little, Three Little Pilgrims (Picture Puffin Books) By B. G. Hennessy Release date: 06 August, 2001

10:15 PM - 2 Comments - 2 Kudos - Add Comment

Comedy Comedy Comedy

Jaqi Furback Jaqi Furback Jaqi Furback Jaqi Furback Jaqi Furback
Funny Hilarious Awesome Hysterical Funny Hilarious Awesome Hysterical Funny Hilarious Awesome Hysterical Funny Hilarious Awesome Hysterical Funny Hilarious Awesome Hysterical Funny Hilarious Awesome Hysterical

Sorry folks, just trying to up my ranking in google under comedy. Marketing ploy, insert here.

5:19 PM - 2 Comments - 4 Kudos - Add Comment

dear fagwagon dickwhistlers in the back of the club that talked through my whole set,
Current mood: irritated
Category: Games

next time try waiting an extra WORD for a punchline before announcing to the entire room how unfunny you believe me to be. yes, it is a HUGE challenge to have an extra hole between my legs that sucks funny out of the air around me like a black-humor-hole. really, i'm surprised i can form intelligent sentences, what with being a girl and all.

I'm sorry that you didn't get your favorite cock in your mouth yesterday morning and had to settle for one in the burger king bathroom that you had to pay for because your an uglier than a piece of shit covered in shit with a cum drizzle. Don't take your bad day out on me. Believe me, if I could facilitate you getting a cock in the mouth, I would-- at least then you'd stop fucking talking during my set.

i'm sorry your dad didn't pay enough attention to you as a kid and fucked it up for the rest of us that have to deal with you (or not deal, as i stupidly decided to do). I'm sorry that the only reason your friends like you is because you buy them drinks to keep them around.
i guess i should thank you for clearing up any illusion i may have created for myself that i could actually get laughs in a club that i usually get laughs in.

Thanks for fucking me over and helping me wash the dreams of getting anywhere soon right down the toilet. But next time, be careful-- don't talk too loud when a girl's on stage-- you might break the glass ceiling...

Currently listening : You Might as Well Try to Fuck Me By The Music Release date: 22 January, 2002

12:16 PM - 14 Comments - 18 Kudos - Add Comment

one of the best descriptions of my comedy. thanks, seattlecomedy.net

I've been recently participating in the Seattle International Comedy Competition. And while most of the shows have either been entirely new experiences wherein my inexperience showed slightly or being forced to veer away from material due to hecklers or dicks hooting at my vagina, I did take 1st place in my home club on the very first night. I came out swinging to prove myself the underdog that no one was expecting. If I can pull a rabbit out of my ass tonight, I could still take 5th. It is The following is the review, written by Peter Greyy, the talent manager of the competition for his website, seattlecomedy.net. In my opinion, it is one of the most insightful analysis of my comedy. (Peter is a comic, himself.)

If you're around, come down to the comedy underground tonight for the last night of the first round. I would love to see you there! Showtime is 8:30.

-------

Jaqi has worked very hard over the past few years to develop her distinct voice. She's had a surreal side that hasn't always connected with the audience. She's had a dark side that hasn't always lead to generating laughter--sometimes, it would dip into generating sympathy. And, she's always had an ability to be a compelling figure on stage...but she hasn't always been able to harness that and keep her surreal and dark sensibilities informing her comedy.

If tonight's set was any indication, she may have found the right balance at last. She gets away with being charming and dismissive at the same time--asking the crowd how it's going for them and immediately letting them know that she doesn't care. It's risky--like any tease--but it can certainly pay-off if you can get and keep the audience on your hook.

Jaqi's set began with a bizarre story about having her body fat measured...naked, in an alley way, while someone was taking pictures. Each detail points to the story being a silly made up tail, but Jaqi uses her words to paint vivid pictures and then maintains continuity so that every detail that she adds to her story makes it seem more real...and more ludicrous at the same time.
Many jokes add details that break the illusion--Jaqi maintains the illusion with each detail, which then reveals other details that she continues to release...again, like the audience is a fish being let out on a line while on the hook.

"I should probably Google my name when I get home. Might be some royalties due to me..." is a damn funny place to take that story--but it didn't end there... the laughs build...supporting the weight of the growing structure of the multilayered bit.

Another weapon in Jaqi's arsenal is that when she says something dark, like "I love my mom to death. I want to hug the shit out of her face with a pillow."--she lets it sit for just a second before an absolutely charming and adorably giggly smile blossoms perfectly across her face. This might seem to break up the dark mood--which it does, but it only serves to seal the impression of Jaqi being someone who is amused at her own dark surreal thoughts.

That's very compelling...especially when her material is smart and well crafted.

She definitely got the loudest audience cheers at the end of her set for anyone during the night...a testimony to her hard work and her figuring out who she is, and how to best represent herself to others. Encore point well deserved, Jaqi.

1:12 PM - 3 Comments - 6 Kudos - Add Comment