quip

excerpts from the Rum Diary

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The Rum Diary

p 23 - Yeamon was familiar too, but not quite as close-- more like a memory of somebody I'd known in some other place and then lost track of. He was probably twenty-four or -five and he reminded me vaguely of myself at that age-- not exactly the way I was, but the way I might have seen myself if I'd stopped to think about it. Listening to him, I realized how long it had been since I'd felt like I had the world by the balls, how many quick birthdays had gone by since that first year in Europe when I was so ignorant and so confident that every splinter of luck made me feel like a roaring champion.
I hadn't felt that way in a long time. Perhaps, in the ambush of those years, the idea that I was a champion had been shot out from under me. But i remembered it now and it made me feel old and slightly nervous that I had done so little in so long a time.

is that weird?

"she has such great skin."
"another skin comment. you're kinda freaking me out here."
"what I mean to say is, 'I want to wear her skin'.... is that weird?"

how badass are you?

OH: "[in vibrams], I run like the wind. I'm unstoppable. I'm like a chainsaw riding a lightning bolt." -- kyle hill (new co-worker)

upster

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE HIP"
"definitely not. too old to be hip. hell, too old to be yuppie now."
"you're perfect to be a yuppie."
"too old for that. now, I'm just an uppie."

on youth and endurance

p73 Running every day is a kind of lifeline for me, so I'm not going to lay off or quit because I'm busy. If I used being busy as an excuse not to run, I'd never run again. I have only a few reasons to keep on running, and a truckload of them to quit. All I can do is keep those few reasons nicely polished.

klosterman on guilty pleasures

What the authors of The Encyclopedia of Guilty Pleasures (and everyone else who uses this term) fail to realize is that the only people who believe in some kind of universal taste—a consensual demarcation between what's artistically good and what's artistically bad—are insecure, uncreative elitists who need to use somebody else's art to validate their own limited worldview. It never matters what you like; what matters is why you like it.

from: http://www.esquire.com/features/ESQ1104-NOV_AMERICA-2

sommeassholier

"wow, what an asshole."
"I know, right?"
"I kinda want to walk over and introduce myself"
"god, why?"
"I'm fascinated by this sort of hypocritical myopia. I like to savor different blends of arrogance, narcissism, sociopathology and borderline asperger's. I'm basically becoming a connoisseur of assholes."

politics

j - "She scares me"
t - "How can you fit that much suckage into one person?"
j - "She's like a Cheez-It. We'll call her a Suck-It."
t - "Any more and she would suck so much that a black hole would emerge from her leathery face"

on a roll at casey moore's

"see, I love that. the denim jacket with a unicorn on the back, the fringed suede boots; that's awesome. walking that very very fine line between audacity and narcissism."
"she had pigtails too"
"yeah, I'm leaning toward narcissism."

r - "I'm thinking about buying this [macbook air]."
j - "you should totally do it!"
r - "really??"
j - "yeah, you should commemorate the day you started smoking crack."

suck it, sucka

g: damn it dude!
r: suck it, sucka. this is how I roll in the zombie apocalypse that is christmas shopping.
g: I'm not showing you cool shit anymore
r: I would stab you in the face for a cool [present] for my family. I LOOK OUT FOR MINE, YOU GET IT???

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