Typewriter Ramble #1

Thanks to Dylan, who recently offered to give me a typewriter he had sitting around from some suburban garage sale many years back, I have acquired a typewriter. I guess Facebook truly can be a good social networking tool. I posted something to the effect, "John Purcell wants to get a typewriter," as my Facebook status. Shortly later Dlyan offered the gift. Who would've thunk it? I certainly didn't, but, thanks again!

Besides a new ribbon and maybe some small maintance it should be really set. I am not sure how to get the musty smell off it though. Even the paper I typed onto reeks of this musty smell. It is not the worst smell, though, kinda homey.

After a Gonzo Imperial Porter, Miller High Life and two White Russians (with extra vodka) I sat down with the typewriter at Dylan's house while other friends conversed around me. I am not sure what exactly I was going to write when I sat down, but I just wanted to nail out something. Whatever the typewriter made me feel — for better or worse.

This made me think that I might have certain reoccuring posts just be whatever I ramble out on the typewriter. Hence the name for this post, "Typewriter Ramble #1," so maybe there will be more in the future, but here is the first.

You have no heart ... he is the golden boy of your sick shit.

What does the boy want from his father? The golden goose of sincerity that grows under his father's pathetic job of regret. The man said yes to his offer, for he had nothing to hide from his son. He gave him the gold he desired and he didn't shed a tear. He was only full of hope for the future of his family — he could not see the scum bubbling into his mouth. Yes, the scum does rise.

The Journalist's Drug

I feel in love with this video the first time I saw it. This one goes out to all the coffee drinkers out there...let us hope we don't slip into a coffee paranoia.

le Café - Oldelaf (english subtitles)
Uploaded by Boebis

You Gotta Feel It Man

"Some days I just really feel like a journalist." -Me

That was something that just really got me thinking. Why do I feel more like a journalist on certain days? Does it have to do with something that happened to me? Is there something that angered or frustrated me? Does it have to do with what I have been reading or watching? Maybe it is what I choose to wear? Could it really just be in the coffee?


Hunter S. Thompson really sparks me, I do know that. It always helps to read/study/observe those you idle. Although, I do not want to be the next Hunter S. Thompson. That would be pretty foolish...cause who the fuck could really be him, shit!

Well, whatever the answer is, maybe a mixture of them all, it seems I just feel more like a journalist at certain times. I have been falling further and further into becoming my major — which I hope you know after that long rant — journalism. I am finding myself welcoming and embracing the thought of being a journalist. I guess I am getting the feeling that I have chosen what is right for me. My biggest fear is that I am not going to amount to something on a grand scale. Not that I want to be famous, I don't feel that is really the word I would be going for, nor what I am striving for. "Famous" seems to involve a lot of dirty, shoe licking and puss sucking. Being well known, or at least well respected within a certain group, is all I really am striving for.

"Book people drink tea — Journalists drink coffee...and sometimes alcohol."

I feel like that quote is probably a mixture of a few real quotes. I like to think I added the "and sometimes alcohol" to the quote first, but who knows. I am still amazed how the "old school" journalist could pound down coffee during the day and pound down their liquor even harder at night. Yeah, and this is like every day.

"I hate to advocate drugs, alcohol, violence, or insanity to anyone, but they've always worked for me." - Hunter S. Thompson

The Restroom Entry

Right now I am sitting in a public restroom. This is the first time I think I have ever been on my laptop in one...and much-the-less, actually had a WiFi connection. Sitting here, it seemed like a worthy moment to post an entry.

Let me tell you one thing — if you have a medium Red Bull and a small Latte and still cannot wake up, then you are in trouble. This is my case at the moment. Maybe 5 and a half hours of sleep is just not simply enough for me. Either way, I still have two more classes to go to and will not be out of here till 7:10 p.m. That three hour class is going to kill me.

One thing I have been noticing lately is that reading a book for leisure is hard to do. I don't think our culture is built to have leisure time for reading. While I do enjoy reading, it seems hard to just do, without having to fulfill some requirement/assignment for a class. I still have 10 pages left in Gonzo, that I have had for over a week now. Then I hope to read "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas" by you know who. If you don't know, well, you should, so shame on you. There really needs to be a course just on Hunter S. Thompson.

Okay, time to get off the throne and pull my pants up — I got me some college to go to.

I Spy A Messy Stench

I am surprised it really took me this long to notice, but there was someone in one of my classes that came the closest to looking like Messy Stench that I have ever seen in person. First off, you are probably like who the hell is that — that is if you don't know me overly well. Even my parents know who she is, because of me. I think now I am more known for my Lindsey Lohan obsession, which is a shame, because Messy Stench is truly a more noble obsession. Then again, me and Lohan have the same birthday, so that is hot, right?

This realization I had during class reminded me of how much I used to be obsessed with Messy. I must say, in recent years I have been lacking in my obsession. Maybe it is since she seemingly has slipped off the radar a little bit. I have been waiting years for her to make a new calender by the way. That would make me so overly happy. Although, I should be getting the NerdCore calender this X-mass.

Still, Messy is probably the person I most adore. I would do anything to meet her in person and I still believe that somehow some day I will get to meet her. I would say it is one of my life goals. It also has crossed my mind that I don't know how I would react. How do you react to meeting someone you were obsessed with for about seven years? I think I would be speechless and maybe that would be for the best.