hail satan.

worked at the elk's lodge new years party from 7:30 to 11:30 with a bunch of people i really dont give a fuck about, for a bunch of people who i really dont give a fuck about. made $10/hr. couldn't say no.

played an 11:45 (pm) show at landmark books. had to make multiple trips home to retrieve an extra amp, then an amp cable, and as midnight rolled around the only people in the store were the other two performers, their families, and a handful of close friends -- a very inibriated krista, anthony, some azn kid, and diane (for like 10 minutes). the 9v that powered the pickup in the acoustic i was using was dead, so anthony made a run down to sev to get another.

it was a very well-received show, by those who were there to receive it.
so is life, i guess.
i had a blast.

though i must say, it was a very fitting end to the worst year of my life -- up until its dying minutes.

after the show, i bummed some cigs off of julia and stopped by ashley's new years fête.
we didn't want to risk ringing her doorbell at 2:30, so i decided it would be more condusive to scream her name at her open window. when she failed to answer to "ashley", i was compelled to scream "stellaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa" at the top of my lungs.

the lot of them came barreling down the hallway and let us in, and i was greeted by my favourite ex (who was pretty toasted) saying "...people just keep handing me their coronas..."
we went in and i proceeded to drink two beers, which went straight to my head (lol lightweight), and left me crying alone on my bedroom floor 2 hours later, missing the aforementioned ex.
happy new years, everybody.
this is why i don't drink.

prior to my drunken pity party, jeanne and i watched a good deal of the twilight zone marathon, until about 4:30 am.
the twilight zone fucking rules.

i will post my yearly recap sometime this week, because i need to write it out.

"and i,"
said the bachelor to the bride,
"am not waiting for tonight,
no, i
will box your ears and
leave you here,
stripped bare."

mother's big xmas gift-swap was on friday night.
my next-door neighbor is a creep.
i have a girlfriend who i never see.

hello. i'm ryan arnold and i really really really fucking hate the holidays.

hannah got "The Warning" last week.
for those of you who don't know, "The Warning" is given to any girl who is interested in me, by an elite few who i like to call the "Fuck Ryan Task Force" (or FRTF, for short -- "fur-tiff").
"The Warning" primarily states that i am a walking bag of haz-mat, and i am to be regarded as such.
ladies, this is a hard-hat zone. hard-hats must be worn at all times.

now, this group of indiviuals is rather unorganized and unprofessional.
i almost feel bad for them.
like i should help them out -- type up some literature that they can hand out, make some flyers /bumper stickers/pins, help them sell ribbons to fundraise (or a bake sale).
hell, maybe i can even set up a grant foundation and scholarships.

anyway, one of them is reading this because she is creepy and likes to read my livejournal.
i'm still on her "friends list," so i can see her write about me all the time. and this entry is public for her.
hello, you mysterious stranger.

je n'ai rien d'aucun intérêt effectif ou importance d'écrire environ.

la vie est aussi douce et médiocre que toujours.

excepté un petit changement : il y a une fille.
j'ai des sentiments pour elle, quoiqu'elle soit prise.





je possède détester plutôt creux pour le spyware installé sur mon ordinateur.
...pas que j'ai n'importe quoi contre la lesbienne chaude et à peine juridique Co-eds.




in this iconoclast's humble opinion, the best part of high school is that there is no possible way that you cannot come into contact with your ex on a daily basis. the awkward exchanges of hellos and heys, the discommodious waves and smiles. i hate it.




et telle est la vie.
smell ya later.
shag ass.
----------
poetry:

the club bumps
faded off Remy and five blunts
codiac cush got me fucked up
i'm goin' round for round, drink dark brown
smoke trees in a leaf that be dark brown
look at baby, so thick man, she dark brown
bad bitches all around, you know it's goin' down
i be posted at the bar like a ghetto C.E.O
spank T with a new jean suit from ????
spank white nikes... so fresh and so tight
the bitches wanna holla back, young and all night
so what do you expect when i'm out wit my niggaz
drink it up, smoke blunts, poppin' bitches

bitch i dont give a fuck bitch.

i think that this is the perfect metaphor for my love life.

okay. this is fucking crazy as balls.

you. yeah, you. you're probably not reading this, because you don't have internet (i don't think), and you probably have better things to do that fucking read some asshole's livejournal.

but you need to stop dispairing.
getting totally fucked up won't make time stop moving. summer is almost over, and nothing can keep what's ahead away.

i'm sorry if this is harsh, but you need to hear it.

yeah, your shit is pretty fucked at the moment.
you've kind of been dealt the shitty end of the stick, and it sucks.
but you've been presented with a choice -- are you going to rise above the crap hand you've been delt, or are you going to fucking crumble and go get wayst3d?

i told you a while ago, and i told you again just now -- drinking is for 3 types of people: little red-headed scenesters at teen night, backstabbing best friends, and my dad.
you are none of those.

so.
what the fuck are you doing?

and yes. we need to hang out some time soon.
like, call me.
dewd.

asdfsaldkfjdaf.

what is a promise? can you hold it? how much does it weigh?

D.A.R.E is a failed program. we all promised Darron the DARE Lion that we would all repeat Nancy Regan's mantra ad nauseum -- "just say no" -- and in return, Darron promised us asylum in the knowledge that not all of our peers were actually doing drugs/drinking alcohol/smoking cigarettes -- it just seemed that way to our uneducated, naive, prepubescent minds.

well, i'm here to tell you that Darron lied to your mother fucking face.
anybody who's actually ever been to high school knows that every public school in America is a fucking half-way house. and that, no matter the promises you make to yourselves in childhood, once you face up against that harrowing dragon that is Peer Pressure you are going to crumble like fucking stale-ass bread.

albert camus (remember him? of course you don't.) wrote "what is a rebel? a man who says 'no'."
i am that man -- i am a rebel because i say "no" when everyone around me says "yes." i am a rebel because i dare to stand for something, to demand something more from life than what was promised me -- a 2-story in suburbia and a job i hate.

i am a rebel, and i want to know: where the fuck is the rebellion at?

is amazing.

i am in love.

uggghhhhhh.
i love interpol, but...
omfg.
( bring in the pain )

OMGWTF CRANE WIFE LEAK!!!!!

http://rapidshare.de/files/29564842/The_Crane_Wife.rar.html


THIS IS SOME MOTHER FUCKING CHRISTMAS IN AUGUST SHIT!

so kaylyn and i came to the conclusion today that i am weird, nervous and awkward, but i shouldn't be nervous about being nervous.
or something.

i think i just have standard "nice guy syndrome."
i'll figure it out.

anyway, kate was over last night and we watched V for Vendetta and made pillow forts and talked about stuff.
all we ever do is sit around at my house and watch movies. i hope she doesnt get bored of me..

-----------

i'm being bound and gagged and dragged to go see The Devil Wears Prada tonight at bradly at 7:00.
save me.

text me if you know my number.
i'm begging you.

-----------

yesterday i finished my summer work for my elec. comm. class (read: a music video), and handed it in to the teacher this morning.
the music video came out pretty fucking sweet, if i do say so myself.
and i do.
i do say so.

it is on youtube (link) for your massivly orgasmic viewing pleasure.
or something.

hospitals.

i've been in one for the better part of the past 2 days -- we took spencer to the emergency room at around 11 yesterday, because of the continual stomach cramping and vomiting that he had been experiencing for the prior 9 days.

so they took him, and after a few hours spent in medical limbo, they admitted him and gave him a room. i spent the night at my aunt's house.
which was...
well..
yeah.

then i was back there early this morning, up until we were discharged around 6:00.

kate maybe is coming over tonight. i hope. <3
----------
i wrote new songs last night, the first in a while. and one of them was one that i had been trying to write for a very long time, about something that effected me deeply. so i feel better.
i think being in the hospital gave me the... perspective, say? to write that song in particular.

they're here.

let me know what you think.
-h.

for your reading (non)pleasure

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by asking you five questions. I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your journal with the answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.
--------------
these are from sami:

1) If two wrongs don't make a right, why the fuck does New Jersey have jughandles?
i was going to come up with a delightfully smart-ass answer for this, but i don't have one. i have no clue why the fuck dirty jerz has jughandles, but i hate hate hate hate them.

2) What do you think you should have been named (What name best suits you).
i should have been named something distinctly more... parisian.

3. If you could meet any musician, dead or alive, and ask them something, who would you meet and what would you ask?
i would want to meet conor oberst, and ask him how he can write such beautiful music and yet be such a complete bitch.

4. Is Elvis dead?
yes.

5. Which two people would you most want to put in a cage match to the death?
jesus christ and allah, just so we can settle this jihad shit for certain.
or, me and ann coulter. bitch would take an asspie to her face.
--------------
these are from ben:

1. How often do you think about me?
whenever i stub my toe, drop my books, spill soda, or walk into a shelf, i like to think that you're sitting somewhere, laughing.

2. Right now, as of this moment, what do you want to do with your life?
sing my songs of love, decadence, and wanton rebellion.

3. Love or money?
money. you can buy love with money. duhhhh.
(kidding.)

4. If I were an icecream cone, how would you eat me?
i'm vegan. i wouldn't eat you.

5. What is the number one reason you hate your town?
i have a feeling you hand-picked this question for me.
i mostly hate this fucking town because you aren't here, ben, and because geek diffusion hasn't diffused you over to this side of the cell that is the hudson river. : (

the entire evening started with the seemingly intelligent decision on our part to drive to red bank, instead of taking the train.
we figured that, this way, we weren't going to be enslaved to the new jersey transit schedule, forced to obey the dystopian law that is the 11:59 pm southbound express.

one groovy mix tape later, we arrive in downtown red bank, in dire need of a parking spot.
so we continued along broad st. -- out onto front st. -- past the park where the movie was being shown -- where about 1500 fans had already amassed -- and... then proceeded to leave red bank, on highway 35.

it was somewhere around little silver that kate realized something was awry, and we then attempted to locate somewhere to turn her car around. we decided on a hep driveway, where kate's truck decided that the stress of the day's journey was too much, and stalled.
luckily, it turned back on, and we turned back around, and proceeded back into red bank.

we ended up driving all the way to the other side of the red bank train station, parking in the "latino" district.

'nuff said.

note here that we failed to note where kate parked her car.
---------
45 minutes later, we have stumbled up and down nearly every street in red bank, attempting to find our way out of the boondocks and onto broad st. -- and then hopefully into marina park.
which we do.

only, we go to the wrong park.

so we check, make our phone calls, act suspicious, etc. and follow a conspicuous steam of patrons down a conspicuous-looking alley to find ourselves immersed in fandom -- surely, this was the right place.

only, they were out of wristbands. admission had closed.
we were fuqqed to the 10th power.

luckily cait, kate, and mike were all there, near the back of the fence, and we talked and plotted our... well, not a "gunpowder plot", per say, but definitely a plot to overthrow the guard systems and make our way into the free movie. for free.

we succeeded in rallying a few of the other disgruntled potheads/weedites/slackers/fanboys into cementing our emotions of abandonment and disappointment into a fighting force. kate even lifted said fence segment and instructed us to crawl under!

...when we were then detected by the omnipotent watchforce that is Staff Security. the rent-a-loser came over and ordered us to cease and desist our subversive activities, lest we be "ejected from the event."

a consequence which, as i later pointed out, made no sense -- seeing as how we had never been admitted to the event to begin with.

our fists raised in the air, our spirits not to be crushed, we regrouped on both sides of the fence -- still under the ever-vigilant eye of the po-po.
( read on. )

i've had a wonderful past few days -- specifically saturday.
i was under the impression that i wasn't going to be able to see kate at all, but things shifted for the better and we ended up going to the fair.

where we actually went on rides this time.


i made her another mix tape. which is like, 4929405933 better than the first one. : )

-----------

tomorrow i'm heading into red bank with steve, with the intention of meeting up with mike roig. then, at 7:30 in marine park, there's a free showing of Clerks. kevin smith will be there. i will meet him.
kate will come along too. : )

pictures will ensue, because clerks ftw.

-----------

in other news: i present to you -- denizens of these vast internets -- the "i hate ryan arnold" manifesto. link.

will fonda is fucking cool as all hell. \m/



i'm going to work.
later.