Some days I really, really, REALLY hate living on a farm
But some days it feels pretty damn rewarding.

Today I saved the life of one of nature's crummiest, ruddiest, scummiest: The Possum. Apparently one of them had slipped into our barn through the cat door and was eating the cat food. When I was refilling the cat feeding bucket when I notices the fuzzy grey thing sitting yea bout 5 feet away was NOT our little kitty Xehanort, but rather, a tiny possum. When it noticed that I noticed it it immediately panicked and ran to the corner of stall, staring at me.

My first thought? "OH FUCK! RABIEZ!"

But it wasn't acting weird, or playing dead, or hissing or making strange noises. It was just horrified of me, so I felt sorry for it. I tried to open the back door so it could get out, but it had rusted shut and my kicking at it only freaked the poor thing out more.

About this time the cat pack saunters into the stall, led by the infamous bitch Marluxia. She sees the possum and puffs out and starts hissing at it, followed suit by Xemnas Jr. stalking towards it. Here I interfere and kick Xemmy in the head. and shoo the other cats away. I wasn't sure what to do at this point. Then I realized that the possum had relocated into an old box we'd used to carry kittens around in. Perfect, right?

So I hover over it for a bit, making sure its not going to spaz out and attack me. After I'm sure that the possum is mellowed out, I pick up the box and walk over to the front door so I can dump it outside. Xemmy, nursing his wounded pride, decided it was time to try again for eternal glory. He dashes up to me, hissing and threatening to launch himself at me...

Me thinking :Oh fuck, not /again/ (see Mutant Kitten Story).

Sensing his doom I suppose, the possum launches himself out of the box and runs off into the night.

Once that cats were sufficently setled in I went out into the bushes and dumped out a handful of cat food so that the possum could eat in peace without fearing for its life. Tomorrow I get to set up a possum trap and take it to Washington to let it loose in the woods, to prevent further injury to it or the cats.

I know, I know, retarded thing to do. But I felt nice about it. Maybe if I can be nice to a trash animal, there's hope left in the world.

...or maybe I just like possums because they're garbage like I am?

Either way, I feel like I did a good deed.


Seriously though, its going pretty sweet. I started monday, haven't had any work at all yet.


So, since the journal is no longer an unused front to stealthily infultrate communities and steal their content which I couldn't get without joining, I decided I need more than just one derpy screen cap. So I set myself up with some new icons.

BEHOLD!Collapse )

It'll add a little variety to the otherwise predictable journal entries at the very least.

Nah, that's not an elaborate, sensitive title at all. I made the three hour drive to some ho-dunk little swamp town called Puxico for their anual Homecoming celebration.

And I love it.

I come every year religiously. So have my parents. And so have their parents. And their parents. It's a long running family tradition, and if I ever have kids (god forbid) I'm dragging them along too.

It's a night or corny carnival rides, food saturated in cholestoral, expensive balloon games you never win, square dancing, prizes, all kinds of stuff.

You guys know by now that I'm a sucker for nostalgia.

Its an awesome celibration and I'm always happy to be a part of it. I went down with my sister last night and bought one of those $10 arm bands so that you can ride all the rides forever (who honeslty buys tickets anymore?). We rode some of the crazier rides, then my sister made me waste $20 on a game where you pop balloons to win stuff. She got a stuffed puppy dog, and the guy gave me a flower with the Confederate flag painted on it. More rides, a little bit of dancing. More rides. Some food. More rides. We ended up hanging out with some seniors from the neighboring village (Zelma, population of 87... you can't make this shit up) and rode some rides with them.

At the end of it all there was a big dance, lots more food, and a raffle drawn for prizes. I was dead on my feet by 11 o'clock (we got there at 6:30!) and so I walked home with my sticky, sweet syrupy foutain soda and my 'Rebel Rose'. That's the facinating thing about a town that doesn't use turn signals. You can walk everywhere. You don't worry about crime, about getting abducted or shanked or whatever.

The town I grew up in, De Soto, is by no means a tiny town at over 6,000 people. It has that dank, heavy 'White Pickett Fence Conspiracy' feel to it. Everyone knows everyone, and they know everyone's business, and talk about it behind thier back.

In Puxico, everyone LITTERALLY knows everyone, because there's about 100 people living there on a good day. And for the most part they enjoy one another's company. And if they don't, they just pull up to their house on a tractor, flip'em off and go "FUCK YOU RONALD! YEE HAW~!"

It's a nice town...

Don't get me wrong, I'd never wanna live here! Puxico, like most designer drugs, is best enjoyed in small doses. But its a nice place to go, to take the family, to sit and whatch the parade with all the big tractors and horses while sucking on a half melted ice cream that the Stoddard County Representive handed to you along with a 'vote for me' sticker. To go to Bill's Market and pay 5x much for food or essentails, because there ain't no wal-mart for at least an hour's drive. To go, to unwind, to relax. To regain your sense of self.

Some days, days like today, I'm proud to live in the South.



An Ideal World
This was an interesting prompt I read earlier today on one of my favorite forums. What is your ideal world like? I thought about it long and hard and seriously. I didn't want to be a self-righteous derp and say 'world peace' because, face it, peace is boring. Conflict is the spice of life! So after sitting on my ass for hours and thinking, I've come up with my answer.

I like to pretend I'm a lot more ambitious than I really am. I'm a simple sort. In my perfect world, I live in a nice house, not too elaborate or fancy, but nice. It's got a fenced yard and two dogs playing in the back, a German Shepherd named Zen, and while I'm not sure of the other I'm thinking it'll be a smaller breed.

Inside, I've got myself a nice study set up with shelves for my copious amounts of books, as well as a spacious work desk for me to tinker with my computers on. In the corner I'll have my aquarium where my beloved Crested Gecko, Natalie, can spend her days by the sunny window. Maybe, just maybe, another Gecko, so Natalie won't be so lonely.

I'd like a nice place to cook. I actually am a sucker for cooking, despite my questionable skills. A spacious kitchen with all the basics, and of course, a coffee maker. No soda though, because god help me I should be over that stuff by then.

A big, fluffy bed is a must. I'm thinking that I'll invest in one of those ridiculously expensive Swedish mattresses or something, gods know the Swedes are a fucking magical people.

In my ideal future, I'm a well off-computer programmer, making a healthy income off my trade, as well as an avid computer hobbyist. I finally learned how to play the blood guitar, and I can speak English and German with equal ease. And while we're being ridiculous, I've also magically become amazing at art. I've got lots of friends, real friends, GOOD friends who don't steal money from me and shit.

But most of all, more important than anything else, I'm sharing all of it with the person that means the most to me. And really, that's all I need to be happy.

My Role Player Partner. My Best Friend. My Secret Crush, who becomes My Lover. You're the only thing I could ever need to be happy.

I love you, now, forever, and always.

Tuu mun vaimoksein

Life Update

Ten days. Ten more friggen days and then its back to classes. You have any idea how bummed I am?


I went and picked up my schedule today though. I'm taking all computer and history classes. They tried to put me into some chick class about shitting out kids, and I threw a royal bitch-fit at them until they put me in an Attorney Law class instead. I did get Modern American Military History and Contemporary World Events (both with one of my FAVORITE teachers) as well as Programming, Advanced Programming, Web Design, Advanced Web Design, and Advanced Computer Applications. I'm going to be all set for my 16 month grueling course in tech school Computer Programming.


On a random note, I drove up there myself! I was quite proud of me.


In other, less personal news, I went and spent my whole 'school shopping' budget on books. My parents were pissed, but I'm happy, so who gives a flying fuck. I got books on life in the Red Army, German Panzers, Erwin Rommel (a personal hero of mine), the Great Northern War, and an Introduction to Nietzsche.


I've always been fascinated with Nietzsche, but I've never really studied him in depth up until now. Now that I have, I realize, that is exactly contrary to his teachings. Whoops. Looks like I just logic fucked myself. He is a fascinating man though, with a fascinating life. I'm highly interested in picking up Human, All Too Human and Thus Spake Zarathustra and actually reading them now that I have some background on the man and his teachings.


Nrrr, what else? Nothing? Yeah, I think that's about it for now. I miss my girlfriend, can't wait till she gets home.




Taken, Complete~
Last chapter of Taken is FINALLY posted on

You can find it here:

Eh, truth be told, I just FORGOT I was writing it. So, hehe, whoops~ It's done now though. Or is it~?

DON'T TELL THE FAGGOTS ON FF.NET BUT I WROTE ANOTHER CHAPTER. It's already written and everything. I'm going to wait a few days till everyone takes it off their watch list to put it up though. It's a present for those who had the patience and audacity to author watch me, or, for the faggots who are reading this journal post and know its comming. Or for the people who happen to read it after I post the new chapter. Whatever. Point is, if I'm on your watch, you'll know when it comes out.

Now, on to some other more serious business...

July Stats: For the month of 2009-07, there have been a total of 2,502 Hits and 1,126 Visitors to all of your stories.


I was seriously blown away when I read that. Wow. I know that's not much compared to some of the more big name authors out there, but it's more than enough for me. THANK YOU.

Most of my hits did come from America, but I'd like to post a shout out to the 100+ people from Canada, Germany, The UK, and Italy who all stopped by to read my shit. Seriously guys, thanks. You're inflating my ego. Also Finland, Poland, Sweden, China, thanks for the 50+ hits from each of you too.


I suppose now would be as good a time as any to include that I /do/ take requests, if I find them particularly appealing.

I'm too wired to sleep... I guess I'm gonna go work on my other project for now.

~ Derruhm

I had THE single most batshit dream ever last night. There was like, this crazy ass cartoony villan who's supreme goal was, well, to make everyone in the world flat. Like, 2D flat. It was totally up its own ass with bizzare. Don't worry though, I saved the day.

Any rate, for those of you who are keeping tabs on me due to my shit-fiction, good news. I've been working on a few projects, including the oh-so-illustrious ending to Taken and some other things I think you'll be interested in. Or not. I'm doing them anyway. I digress though. Point is, the next few days I'm gonna have a LOT of time off where I've got nothing to do and no one to talk to. You know what that means! I regress to lonely bitter ol' hermit mode and WRITE WRITE WRITE! 

Just keeping you up to date, though frankly I doubt anyone besides me reads this shit. I don't even read it.

Terms and Comming to them

Uhg, so recently, I've been noticing what a big gay bitch I am. Srsly. The whole floating around my apartment, shitting rainbows and pixie dust wasn't what tipped me off either.


I've been sitting on my couch for large sections of the day, watching shows on LOGO and practicing my health food cooking. I've filled up a journal from tips I've penned down from the show 'A Lyon in the Kitchen' and that cute little bald chef. I never knew you could eat lavender.


I've also been paying attention to the health tips they give me on my big gay shows too. Recently I've been doing a sugar purge. For those of you fortunate enough to have never done one, it's where you eat nothing but salt and water for several days to flush your system of all the sugar and gunk that built up. It's suppose to be good for you to do now and then. I'm doing it in preparation of my MONTH WITHOUT SODA! Insane, right? I actually started 4 days ago. FOUR DAYS! I suffered some icky withdrawal from the caffeine at first, but I'm feel much better now. More energy for redecorating~


I've also been thinking seriously about coming out a lot lately. I mean, I'm positive my parents already know. I've always been a brute, ultra-masculine, and the general 'ew girls have cooties' type in school. I'm also thinking coming out could help me get around some of the dodgy 'subject land mines' that I constantly have to edge around. It's the big elephant in the room and its gotta go sometime. It may possibly help me get my girlfriend out here too. Or irreparably damage my chances of getting her over ever. One or the other. Anyone have any advice for me?


That being said, back to eating my saltine crackers and making fun of the silly heteros on Blind Date~


Your big fat (gay) bitch,


Ease Your Pain

You know, back when I use to go to therapy (I quit because LOL THERAPITZ R STOOPID) my therapist told me that keeping a journal was highly medicinal. So let's see if this works.


Lately I've been feeling painfully inadequate. Despite acting like a total jack ass towards everyone, I'm cripplingly sensitive to what people think about me. Not just every old jack ass, no, but certain people. Certain people that, frankly, I'd do anything for.


I realize, pointedly, that I'm in no way shape or form physically attractive. I'm not particularly talented either. The only things I really have going for me are my rare bouts of extreme wit, and my money. Sure, I can be a charming fucker when I want to be, but, that's really just not enough nowadays. You've got to have something besides a dazzling personality and a few extra bucks lining your wallet. People want the whole deal, and that's just not something I have.


Just hearing her name makes me ill. I can't help but think I'm just a runner up. I'm second best. I'm the back up, the rebound, the poor fucker you let take you out to a nice dinner because you feel sorry for him, but you're really not considering anything serious. I know I'm a paranoid fucker at times, but every day my fears seem to be a little more grounded.


I've always believed that there wasn't any stock in worrying about things. Whatever happens, happens, and it happens for a reason. Sometimes its hard to have faith in the universe though. Sometimes I doubt it, despite knowing it's right. I feel like I'm being cosmically fucked with.


You know what they say about girls though. Can't live with'em, can't live without'em. Every second I'm apart from her I feel like I'm dying. But the closer I try to get, the more I get the feeling she doesn't really want me around. I guess I'll never really be good enough for her. I tried telling myself that before. No one will ever be good enough for her. She only deserves the absolute best.


I love her. I'll always love her, no matter what. And even if she hated me, I'd still love her. No one else in the world matters a fraction as much to me as she does. She's everything to me. Everything. As dorky as it sounds, its true. I'd do anything for her. I'd fight for her. I'd kill for her. If she asked me to I'd die for her without hesitation. She could ask me to carve out my own fucking heart and hand it to her, and I would do it unthinkingly. I'm not convinced she realizes how serious I am when I tell her how much she means to me.


If she'd only asked me to, I'd have climbed in my car and driven across the fucking country to be with her. Just to be with her is the only thing I could ever ask for. To be able to watch over her, protect her, care for her, its the only thing I want. Nothing else matters to me.


I'm very ill, aren't I?


Log in