So its the end of the world obviously. Some guy from somewhere at some point said that this coming Saturday is it. I don't know how DiMB readers feel about this but I am comfortable where I stand on my own moral tape measure ( I don't know, is there some kind of thermometer or compass for this kind of thing, or just a tape measure?) Anyway, Jesus is supposed to come down and rapture every 'true' believer. Yeah, good luck with that.
From what I've read the rapture just makes you magically naked and flying in the sky to heaven. You know what else does that? LSD.
By the way, those unbelievers, I prey for thee. You face an eternity in hell. Which coincidentally is the same place all of the drugs and hookers are going. Good luck having fun down there. Wait, what?
Friday, May 20, 2011
Thursday, May 19, 2011
The Dark Side of the Pillow
We are more weather than emoticons; more ambient noise than PSAs. It's silly to try and focus on being a specific version of ourselves, to define ourselves with a ballpoint pen, when our identities are better defined as nebulous clouds of gas than they are the results of a personality test. The forces and things that move us and make us and respond to us are all much greater and wilder than our brains allow us to tangibly dictate.
That said, here's a song:
0:40
I catapulted down 395 with a mixed bag of dark blues and whites hovering above. A black helicopter turned its spotlight toward me as it flew over with a head-echoing buzz. The road was loud, rampant. These motorists had their end-goals, their loved ones, and their ticking microwave-dinner-seconds counting down their staggered arrivals. I didn't look over to see their faces, but I could guess the paint smeared across a canvass portrait that I'd see. They were my herd. Their rules of engagement were deranged and contradicting, but they held to them as though at gunpoint. I hopped exit 3A, exit 52, and Duke Rd., and I kept up with them. I sought my pick-up, my package, but not without a sense of adventure. Getting lost was the best to find what I needed, and I'm lucky I didn't get side-swiped. The clouds rolled over and with my package in the passenger seat, I circled back in an arc, and headed home.
That said, here's a song:
0:40
I catapulted down 395 with a mixed bag of dark blues and whites hovering above. A black helicopter turned its spotlight toward me as it flew over with a head-echoing buzz. The road was loud, rampant. These motorists had their end-goals, their loved ones, and their ticking microwave-dinner-seconds counting down their staggered arrivals. I didn't look over to see their faces, but I could guess the paint smeared across a canvass portrait that I'd see. They were my herd. Their rules of engagement were deranged and contradicting, but they held to them as though at gunpoint. I hopped exit 3A, exit 52, and Duke Rd., and I kept up with them. I sought my pick-up, my package, but not without a sense of adventure. Getting lost was the best to find what I needed, and I'm lucky I didn't get side-swiped. The clouds rolled over and with my package in the passenger seat, I circled back in an arc, and headed home.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Top 10 things I've always wanted to do in Loudoun but never have
In no preferential order:
1. Sit down and read a book in the Thomas Balch Library. (Maybe a short story).
2. Ride a horse in Middleburg. (I'm not kidding).
3. Go running on the bike path. (I only go over in Maryland).
4. See a movie at the Tally Ho theater. (Okay, I have seen one movie-- but it was "Elf" with Josh Nesbit when I was 17, so that really doesn't count).
5. Eat at Al's Pizza. (I swear I never have).
6. Get invited to a party at a country club, and then not show up.
7. Pick flowers at Field of Flowers. (I'll probably get made fun of for this).
8. Sing with a band at Fred George's infamous 4th of July soiree.
9. Buy trashy merchandise from the new lingerie store across the street from the Courthouse in Leesburg. (And then take the bag into the church nearby and sit down at a pew and pray for my soul).
10. Shop for antiques with Cordelia Chamberlin at Edward's house. (This really needs no explanation).
Top Ten DiMB of 2010
To really nuzzle the teet of our twelve seconds of people reading our blog, I encourage, no demand, that everybody submit themselves to an unconscious stupor and click on the links provided below to delve into our deep and broad-shouldered catalogue - in the form of a LIST of the TOP TEN POSTS OF DEMONS IN MY BRITCHES OF 2010:
in no particular order:
- Top 10 greatest videogame moments (3 Parts!)
- Children of the systems: favorite gaming phases (2 Parts)
- My Monkey (2 Parts)
Also, I challenge you to find better ones to offer in place of this rag tag group of heroes from 2010.
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
A Moment of Respite
This blog has gotten a bit heavy as of late, so I figured I should post this to give people something to relax to. Mostly I just wanted to post the song.
--Edward
Demons in My Britches
I can't help but use Greg's iconic name to title this post, since he wrote it in high school and the name sums up the feeling of those years. I will try to use a little tact and restraint when writing this post, but the topic at hand is a risque yet meaningful one: sexual adolescence and the fucked-up mind of a teenage boy.
Having always found the sex drive somewhat painful and distracting in life in general, the peak years of the agony were from grades 6 to 10, I'd say. Although I'd already had some crushes prior to this (see here), middle school was when the insatiable snake known as sexual lust began to rear its head. I remember Carl Athey in sixth grade gym telling me about porn Web sites for the first time. Of course back in that day (pre-high-speed Internet, which still hasn't really come to Waterford) it was pictures only, but it was a very exciting time. God knows how many girls I fantasized about in our grade, but it was a lot. It was really just frustrating, because I think for the vast majority of us, we had completely no luck or even hope with girls back then. I know I didn't. There was a long time in my life where I didn't think I would ever have a girlfriend, certainly not have sex. I don't know how many people had it in middle school, but I would say compared to the rest of the world, the numbers in Loudoun County were probably pretty low (I'm sure if you look at a graph with income per capita it would show that the richer areas have people losing their virginities at a later date, and as we've mentioned before, you don't get much richer than Loudoun).
Anyways, this continued for the first few years of high school. As I commented on Matt's post, Greg and I would come up with lists of the hottest girls in our grade/school--a complex process that took place over a week or two and involved much thought and planning. On the whole, I felt we had a very accurate list, although unfortunately I do not have it anymore. Lisa Gillenwater and Kristy Clark were definitely the top two picks on both of our lists, though. They were icons.
Looking back on girls I liked back in the day, it seems obvious that I really only liked girls based on their looks and then constructed some elaborate backstory in my head about what their personality was really like. This had no basis in reality. I would romanticize them, I'm sure knowing full well that I would never, ever date them or anything, and imagine that they were something they were not. Probably the same thing happened on girls' part everywhere. Thought unintentional, it was basically a complete objectification of girls' looks, which still happens to a degree and probably still happens completely with a lot of guys my age.
I think what changed junior year is that I actually really started talking to girls--and not just ones I lusted over. I became more comfortable with the opposite sex. The first girl I would consider a non-lustful crush in high school was Brandi Shackleford. We both ran cross country back when we were sophomores, and were both the fastest in our grades. Looking back this was a poor choice on my part, but at least we actually talked and hung out some. Ultimately I feel like she was just fucking with me, but those were the early years for me. After that, I heard many a story involving her, but I cannot say whether these are true or false, since we never had much contact after sophomore year. It seems like she changed a lot, and obviously did not run cross country anymore. This almost seems like a shame to me, since she had some pretty genuine talent and ran a 20:00 5K sophomore year from my memory. But then again, who cares about those things but me?
Then there was my infamous crush on Johanna Faroe. Now some people who were there at the time will make a lot bigger deal out of this than it was. But in any case, I liked her probably because she talked with me and we had a good rapport (Jake smiles somewhere in heaven). Looking back, I was probably a self-esteem boost for her, but oh well, she's not a bad person and we still talk some. This was one of your quintessential dating-but-not-doing-anything relationships. I mean, what the fuck? At this point in my life it seems ridiculous to spend so much time with a girl and not even hook up and for me not to get a relationship out of it. But I was young and inexperienced with girls, so I went along with what I could get (this is not to put her down, but I didn't exactly push harder for anything more). For a very long time (and still), I was definitely sexually insecure and had some kind of underlying fear of girls/relationships/my sex drive, etc. But that is a twisted psychological story that cannot be delved into easily in this post/on Demons in My Britches (except through popular demand!). So that is probably another reason why I didn't care that much about pushing things farther physically.
Anyways, around this time I also started liking Alex Vlk, who became my first real girlfriend (Lizzie Christy holds the awesome title of first girlfriend in general, and I hope to fuck I'm spelling her name right here or she will kill me). I remember when I started hanging out with Alex more and more (which felt very natural with her for some reason), Johanna got upset and asked me out, which was strange, but I guess was just her way of trying to get me back even though she probably didn't really like me very seriously in that way. Anyways, I eventually lost my virginity to Alex and dated her for a long time, and what a long, strange trip that was, mostly because of me and my bouts of self-destruction which can be read about in other parts of the blog!
Sorry for this long, rambling, pointless post. But there it is. Demons in my fucking britches.
--Edward
Having always found the sex drive somewhat painful and distracting in life in general, the peak years of the agony were from grades 6 to 10, I'd say. Although I'd already had some crushes prior to this (see here), middle school was when the insatiable snake known as sexual lust began to rear its head. I remember Carl Athey in sixth grade gym telling me about porn Web sites for the first time. Of course back in that day (pre-high-speed Internet, which still hasn't really come to Waterford) it was pictures only, but it was a very exciting time. God knows how many girls I fantasized about in our grade, but it was a lot. It was really just frustrating, because I think for the vast majority of us, we had completely no luck or even hope with girls back then. I know I didn't. There was a long time in my life where I didn't think I would ever have a girlfriend, certainly not have sex. I don't know how many people had it in middle school, but I would say compared to the rest of the world, the numbers in Loudoun County were probably pretty low (I'm sure if you look at a graph with income per capita it would show that the richer areas have people losing their virginities at a later date, and as we've mentioned before, you don't get much richer than Loudoun).
Anyways, this continued for the first few years of high school. As I commented on Matt's post, Greg and I would come up with lists of the hottest girls in our grade/school--a complex process that took place over a week or two and involved much thought and planning. On the whole, I felt we had a very accurate list, although unfortunately I do not have it anymore. Lisa Gillenwater and Kristy Clark were definitely the top two picks on both of our lists, though. They were icons.
Looking back on girls I liked back in the day, it seems obvious that I really only liked girls based on their looks and then constructed some elaborate backstory in my head about what their personality was really like. This had no basis in reality. I would romanticize them, I'm sure knowing full well that I would never, ever date them or anything, and imagine that they were something they were not. Probably the same thing happened on girls' part everywhere. Thought unintentional, it was basically a complete objectification of girls' looks, which still happens to a degree and probably still happens completely with a lot of guys my age.
I think what changed junior year is that I actually really started talking to girls--and not just ones I lusted over. I became more comfortable with the opposite sex. The first girl I would consider a non-lustful crush in high school was Brandi Shackleford. We both ran cross country back when we were sophomores, and were both the fastest in our grades. Looking back this was a poor choice on my part, but at least we actually talked and hung out some. Ultimately I feel like she was just fucking with me, but those were the early years for me. After that, I heard many a story involving her, but I cannot say whether these are true or false, since we never had much contact after sophomore year. It seems like she changed a lot, and obviously did not run cross country anymore. This almost seems like a shame to me, since she had some pretty genuine talent and ran a 20:00 5K sophomore year from my memory. But then again, who cares about those things but me?
Then there was my infamous crush on Johanna Faroe. Now some people who were there at the time will make a lot bigger deal out of this than it was. But in any case, I liked her probably because she talked with me and we had a good rapport (Jake smiles somewhere in heaven). Looking back, I was probably a self-esteem boost for her, but oh well, she's not a bad person and we still talk some. This was one of your quintessential dating-but-not-doing-anything relationships. I mean, what the fuck? At this point in my life it seems ridiculous to spend so much time with a girl and not even hook up and for me not to get a relationship out of it. But I was young and inexperienced with girls, so I went along with what I could get (this is not to put her down, but I didn't exactly push harder for anything more). For a very long time (and still), I was definitely sexually insecure and had some kind of underlying fear of girls/relationships/my sex drive, etc. But that is a twisted psychological story that cannot be delved into easily in this post/on Demons in My Britches (except through popular demand!). So that is probably another reason why I didn't care that much about pushing things farther physically.
Anyways, around this time I also started liking Alex Vlk, who became my first real girlfriend (Lizzie Christy holds the awesome title of first girlfriend in general, and I hope to fuck I'm spelling her name right here or she will kill me). I remember when I started hanging out with Alex more and more (which felt very natural with her for some reason), Johanna got upset and asked me out, which was strange, but I guess was just her way of trying to get me back even though she probably didn't really like me very seriously in that way. Anyways, I eventually lost my virginity to Alex and dated her for a long time, and what a long, strange trip that was, mostly because of me and my bouts of self-destruction which can be read about in other parts of the blog!
Sorry for this long, rambling, pointless post. But there it is. Demons in my fucking britches.
--Edward
Monday, May 16, 2011
The West is the Best: Weird Scenes Inside a Goldmine
So we talk a lot about Western Loudoun on here, but I kinda want to hear more about the far-off smog and congestion of Eastern Loudoun. Did anyone else growing up in Western Loudoun feel like anything from Leesburg on out east was the ghetto? The rolling hills, farms, and minority-free school systems of Western Loudoun (especially pre-development boom around the time we were in middle school) raised us in a sort of fairytale, idyllic paradise (or at least that's what it seems like looking back). We all heard stories about there being lots of fights, drugs, and sex in schools as probably nice as Loudoun County High School, Stone Bridge, Potomac Falls, etc. I imagine now that there are so many housing developments in Western Loudoun--so many people in general, as they are creating more and more schools in the western part of the county--the county has a pretty similar make-up across the board, although of course there are still going to be more minorities and lower-income people in the east. But it's not the great divide it once was.
We should get some feedback on here from people who grew up in Eastern Loudoun about what it's like over there and how they perceived us in the west. The great stereotype is that they didn't even know we existed. And I've never really been proven wrong on that. I've met so many people from Ashburn and Sterling who don't even know Waterford exists, and who've never been to Purcellville.
--Edward
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Sushi's Corner
I'd just like to make it known... that a dog has it's own column in the Blue Ridge Leader.
http://brleader.com/?category_name=sushis-corner
And yes, in case you were wondering, I am abusing my power here because this absolutely deserved an entirely new post.
http://brleader.com/?category_name=sushis-corner
And yes, in case you were wondering, I am abusing my power here because this absolutely deserved an entirely new post.
Friday, May 13, 2011
Booze Cruising Loudoun
Not that I have the most experience in this, I guess I have enough. Bethany brought up all she needed to in her most recent post to spur this on. Loudoun Nightlife. The big plunge into organized drinking out in the open, all vulnerable, no basement, attic, or garage to take solace in with your friends. These bars leave it all on the field. Whatever that means.
For the rundown:
- the Dock: this ain't even a bar anymore, HA. known for its distinctly wealthy, older, and notable weirdness in its clientele; this pod is set in a Fischer Price town with shops and restaurants in the middle of an outer ring of parking lot and even more outer ring of townhouses. We did manage to run into James Jones here and it took about five minutes of both of us expressing shock for meeting accidentally there. I don't know if any of us ever recovered.
- Clyde's: here we go. Wanna go to a place where they got carriages above your head and you wouldn't be out of place to be wearing red blazers, black ass tight riding pants, and topped off with a fox-belly scarf? Find yourself right at home with the 2004 varsity softball champs, the 1997 all-state golf team, and the 1993 men's basketball semi-finalists, not to mention all of their closest fans who know the importance of a varsity sport being the testicles of a town. We've ended up here more than I'd like to admit. Matt and I got free drinks from a 40 something year old man talking to us about how he wishes he were closer with his son. That's probably all I should have said in the first place about Clyde's.
- The Conference Center: not actually the name of the bar - not sure if it has a name, but this is exactly that, a conference center bar where I doubt anyone else even really knows about, but we went there once and that's enough to make this list. The best part about this place is that it's like being on a big boat with a bunch of random strangers you probably won't ever see again. The worst part about this place is that it feels like you're on a big boat with a bunch of strangers, and that's weird. They did have karaoke, and I did sing Gangster's Paradise, and I was awful, so there's always that. If you're ever on an acid trip driving around Ashburn (god forbid) you might end up here. Side effects may vary.
- Bunkers: didn't there used to be a Peebles here? The department store with the mannequins sitting ominously in the rafter looking down on you with their stone white faces. Something about going to a bar sitting at the back of one of the biggest parking lots in Leesburg is terribly wrong. And when such a place would lead someone to say, "let's get there before they start charging a cover," you know you gotta get the fuck out of town. I'll keep my five dollars and go gorge myself on two and a half Gold Rush Chicken Sandwiches over at Roy Rogers thank you. I can't say a whole lot about what it's actually inside this place considering I've been there only a couple times, during which I became increasingly paralyzed by how many people I recognized and could not physically talk to yet couldn't stop staring at.
- Shenanigan's: I've never been here and I don't really care to change that. Although I did hear that they have a good stock of girls with unibrows.
- Magnolia's: Loudoun Valley Graduate School. Find yourself a stool and begin the time-ticking until someone grabs you from behind and hugs you for sharing Earth Science class together 16 years prior. Either that or just keep playing eye-contact tag with the stand-offish acquaintances while both of you try to remember each other's names. Best get the most alcoholic beer on the menu (of which there a good amount) and stagger out to Jose's before you do anything really stupid here. Although apparently Matt Kopp ripped his shirt off here and wasn't kicked out until 20 min had passed, so who knows.
- Jose's: a skip and a gallop away, it waits for you, ready to relieve you from the bright light Purcellville bubbly and almost nauseating atmosphere of Magnolia's. Here you can make it to the ever empty bathroom and back again in two steps. There are also much more interesting people that wind up here, whether non-English speaking or 40-50 year old women, you'll fit right in after a few mugs. But god forbid you get stuck here with a HS alum you don't want to talk to, because the bar is about as big as matchbox. Frequent cigarette breaks are inevitable here even for the non-smoker.
- Greene Turtle: fuck this place. I don't know much of anything about it, other than the three or so times I ending up here were: one, sweaty, crowded, and deafening; two, empty, uncomfortably bright, and impossible to get the check; and three, there was a five buck cover - we didn't go in.
- Balls Bluff/King's Court Tavern: I'm not sure which of the down or upstairs is which, but this is pretty much the only decently comfortable bar around, and one where you might run into some people you don't mind talking to or hell, you might even want to talk to! They apparently have metal music, plus your normal acoustic bar fare, darts, and other crap that helps a lot. It's also not in the middle of a parking lot but rather right in the thick of sweet old town of Leesburg. I really don't have any complaints about it here. Imagine that.
- Payne's Biker Bar: or just Payne's? I guess they changed the name when they reopened to turn a new leaf from some kind of notorious past of substance abuse and manliness, at a biker bar, how could they? I actually don't know anything about it, but encourage you to comment about it if you do. I've only been here once, last weekend, and I was quite happy with it. It was mostly empty, but felt like an actual bar, one to get beers, to complain and sulk and laugh and cry about life, and to eventually, when you're getting to your weakest, hit on what are in all likelihood fugly older women; dangerous game. Like Balls Bluff, it's a relief from rest of Loudoun and parking lots and varsity sports teams. I probably will end up going back to pummel my liver in the not so distant future.
- The Beautiful South: the name should give a lot away already. It's set on the edge of Hamilton, not even in the tiny town but on the outskirts, like a roadside bar except instead of truckers, there are mechanics, farmers, construction workers, drifters, family men, girls next door, and your all-American strangers. The fact that it most resembles Moe's from the Simpsons of all the bars I've been to should say something. There's not a whole lot to do other than drink. And they also have music. Oh and a deck. But you can beer your face while doing those things to. This is to the country what Balls Bluff Tavern is to the town. You can't really go wrong with either.
I'm sure there are many other bars around Loudoun that probably deserve to be mentioned, so I'm counting on everyone else to bring them up. Regardless, the bottom line is you're best off just drinking in your back yard or finding a mountain or field to drink in if you're looking to booze in Loudoun.
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