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Below are the 20 most recent journal entries recorded in
Gus Bentley's InsaneJournal:
| Tuesday, December 17th, 2019 | |
| 8:42 pm | spamage. When you don't know where you're going, |
| Sunday, November 3rd, 2019 | |
| 10:45 am | profile. ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} openbooksmod( The little dog laughed to see such sport ) |
| 10:44 am | storylines. |
| Sunday, February 28th, 2010 | |
| 8:52 am | Greenview Retirement Community wants to kick my father out. Well, in politically correct terms, they want to relocate him to a different facility more suited to his needs, but I know as well as anyone else does that they're tired of all the extra manpower it takes to handle him. My father, the escape artist. Houdini. Tony Bentley, aka He Who Will Not Be Tied Down. He thinks the old folks' home is a prison, and that he's meant to be traveling, venturing around and doing all these incredible things. But he can't read a map, can barely dial a phone for himself, and forgets where he is or where he's headed after an hour or so. Usually he can remember that he's coming to see me for just long enough so that he can show up at work or my apartment, but occasionally he's forgotten halfway and gotten lost somewhere in upstate New York. I'm paying those bastards at Greenview good money to look after him, and they can't even handle their jobs. Good money that I don't really have. The thing is, most of the other retirement homes in the area have heard horror stories about Tony Bentley and refuse to take him. If I don't find a place for him soon, I'll have to move him into the spare room at my place, and the last time that happened? Disaster. |
| Thursday, November 19th, 2009 | |
| 10:47 am | My mother asked me to come down to Florida for Christmas. She knows what a big thing that is to ask, and frankly I'm surprised that she asked me in the first place. She's been remarried for ten years and her new husband has grown children who are younger than me. It is what it is -- a replacement family. But she's happy. I can tell she's happy. It would be nice to go to Florida when it's so cold in New York, because I hate the cold and everything about it. But is it worth it 1) to ditch my dad, slick asshole that he is, for the holidays, and 2) to spend my Christmas surrounded by my mother's husband, who has his own 'charms' and his litter of genius offspring and their ever-growing, expanding, genius families? I'm not ready to think about Christmas yet. Thanksgiving isn't even here yet. |
| Monday, October 19th, 2009 | |
| 10:35 am | I was going to take a few days off, since I haven't had more than one day free in a row since September. I thought about going out of town, or if nothing else just spending some much-needed time to myself. But I don't think I'll be able to sit still if I stick around the city this time. I'm already antsy, so distracted that I haven't been able to finish up on all the paperwork that's been hounding me this week. I've got some business to attend to. I need to buy some paint, let out a bit of stress, then go upstate and murder my father. |
| Sunday, October 11th, 2009 | |
| 9:30 am | We went to the Minetta Tavern last night for drinks, and when I parted ways with the guys, I swung through Washington Square Park and managed to beat a few late-night chess junkies. The chess tables there always seem to be full, even though the normal human hours to play in the park end before dark. But the chess tables are well-lit. It's a bit crazy -- the insane kind of crazy, since Washington Square Park has a relatively high crime rate. So call me a nutjob, but I manage to get along with underbelly of the earth types. One time, I actually had a guy sit down across from me at a chess table who talked to me about how he mugged people. True story. I'm probably lucky to be alive. But, what I'm trying to say is, I couldn't see straight when I left Minetta and still managed to beat three guys at chess before I went home. I win. Current Mood:  pleasedCurrent Music: I Feel Fine || The Beatles |
| Thursday, May 14th, 2009 | |
| 3:10 pm | This morning, I was woken up to a serious commotion. I wasn't due into work until late morning, but this was a serious banging on and about before six o'clock in the morning. Everyone who lives in my little apartment has known that Harry, one of the flatmates, has been sleeping with Bella, the landlady. None of us runs in the same circles as each other or anything -- we don't keep tabs on each other's whereabouts or hot weekend plans or whose food is whose unless clearly labelled. But it's not hard to tell about Harry and Bella, because they're just so... well, let's just say they're 'vocal' and leave it at that. So at 5:47am, Harry stumbles home. I could hear him because A) my room's the closest to the front door, and B) my sense of hearing's a bit better than most. I don't ever ask why someone's getting home at whatever hour (especially since I'm known for staying out all night, too). But Bella's awake, wondering where the hell he's been, and they started arguing loudly and throwing things around. Something broke against my door, and eventually two doors slammed -- a bedroom door and the front door. Harry's room has been cleared out, and Bella has been in the worst mood ever. She snapped at me over a bowl of oatmeal this morning and told me to try to look for someone new to let the room to. I think this might be a good time to put in a bit of overtime at work. Maybe I could take a nap in the office or something. Current Mood:  tired |
| Tuesday, May 5th, 2009 | |
| 10:33 pm | I really am an old man today. It's my birthday, and I've somehow managed to survive to my 30th year in this world. I'm glad that I didn't spend the whole of thirty years just in New York City. My little road trip last year helped me sneak that in. My mother sent me a card with five dollars in it, like I'm a little kid or something. She's so out of touch with who I am. My dad did call, though. He said he'd like to do something special for me, too. I don't know what I feel like doing. I'm not sure I want to go out -- not til much, much later. Maybe I'll paint or something, I don't know. But for now, it's nice to be at home with my book, reading about Antarctica and watching Family Guy, since that's what's on. God, this show is syndicated on so many networks, I feel like I've seen this same episode so many times in the last few weeks. It's the one where Stewie kills Lois on the cruise ship. Even a cartoon as funny as this one can get old. I wish they'd make more episodes of Futurama instead. Current Mood: mellowCurrent Music: We're Going To Be Friends || The White Stripes |
| Friday, February 27th, 2009 | |
| 3:05 pm | I'm writing this quick before getting on the bus to go visit Dad up at Greenview. I just wanted to get it down somewhere so I could remember how I'm feeling at this exact moment. I was kind of bummed when I first got home today, because my crew had to paint over some grafitti at the Village Savings & Loan bank. It was actually some pretty cool stuff. But my mood was just... shattered into shock and oblivion when I picked up my mail. I got a postcard from my Mom this afternoon. My fucking MOM. For those of you who don't know what a big deal it is, think of it this way: I'm twenty-nine years old, and my mom walked out on my dad the summer after I graduated high school. She remarried some old geezer in Florida and they've got two kids (that I know of). I haven't talked to her in a few years, but I haven't seen hide nor hair from her in over ten years. I don't know why I still hold a candle for her after pretty much just shutting me and Dad out of her life for that long. But she's my mom and as much as I want to hate her, I can't. I just can't. I don't know how she got my current address. I don't know how it happened, but she found me. She found me and sent me a postcard saying how she felt she'd made a lot of mistakes in her life, and losting touch with me was one of them. I really don't know how to feel today. Current Mood:  indescribableCurrent Music: Human || The Killers |
| Tuesday, January 6th, 2009 | |
| 12:24 pm | Oh, lo and behold, it's everybody's favorite subject -- Gus' first Gripe of 2009! So I went to the cinema last night, since I've been particularly curious about The Curious Case of Benjamin Button ever since hearing about it on the grapevine early last year. Just after high school, I got really into F. Scott Fitzgerald and I read the short story. It's absolutely fascinating, I highly recommend it. Of course, it's a bit dated now, and isn't quite Hollywood-ified enough to be made into a Brad Pitt Movie (note the caps). Whether I liked or disliked the film version isn't the point. While in the theater, watching previews for films that got limited release in December just in time to be Oscar bait (like Revolutionary Road, The Wrestler, and The Reader, for example), there were a lot of really dumb people. I'm not a theater snob or anything, but there are just certain habits I can't stand when I go to the movies. But I'm getting off subject. These artsy fartsy Oscar bait movies, instead of having a release date at the end, simply say 'December' to let people know when to expect to see them crop up in theaters... am I the only one who just assumes this means 'December 2008?' I can't tell you the number of remarks I heard from people in the darkness, saying "Why are they showing previews for things that don't come out until NEXT December?" They're acting like 2008 was so long ago. It was, like, a WEEK ago, people. It's moronic. My movie, however, was actually pretty great. A different narrative completely than Fitzgerald's story, and not something I think I'd like to own on DVD. But worth the disgustingly high price of a matinee showing. Current Mood:  irkedCurrent Music: Ottoman || Vampire Weekend |
| Wednesday, December 3rd, 2008 | |
| 11:23 am | Another Thanksgiving at Greenview spent with my dad. There wasn't really much room at my place for him to come stay. He wasn't thrilled, but one of my roommates invited his extended family to stay with us, so all the couches and floorspace in the living room were completely taken up. My place isn't that big to begin with, and there are five of us who live there permanently. Adrian's family almost doubled the occupancy of our little flat. Sure, Dad could have come. He could have stayed, could've squeezed on my little cot and I could have slept on the floor... but he would have complained. He does plenty of that anyway. So, instead of playing sardines, I stayed with him upstate. Nothing like spending the holidays at an old folks' home. All of the old ladies flirted with me, like they always do, but my dad told me to mind my own business. This is his territory -- such the retirement home lothario, he is. It's kind of gross, actually. Have I mentioned that I really, really hate being cold? Holidays are okay, but I don't like winter. At all. |
| Thursday, October 30th, 2008 | |
| 12:10 am | I've started watching Breaking Bad on the stolen cable we snagged from the neighbors next door. It's about this guy who's a high school chemistry teacher. He needs money to pay for chemotherapy and to support his family after he eventually dies, so he cooks up crystal meth. In my opinion, good television isn't good television unless it blurs the line of morality somewhere. But I don't think Walter does it because he's curious about the other side, or wants that thrill that comes from the fear of getting caught. He's doing it because he has no other choice. That's not why I do it. |
| Sunday, September 21st, 2008 | |
| 11:37 am | It's starting to get cool enough again that I can wear hooded sweatshirts again at night. This bodes well for my evening activities. Time to put on the cape and cowl, and turn into the Batman of the art world. God, the idea alone fills me with fifteen kinds of glee. My life's gotten a whole lot easier lately. My dad has yet another girlfriend at the home, so he's been busting out far less frequently. He's been showing up at the business less and less, and he doesn't try to take over and order around my employees quite so much. This is good for business. I mean -- my worker guys are much happier when there's not an old coot lurking around calling them by names that aren't their own. Dad's still stuck in the past, with the crew he used to have back when Bentley Painting Ltd was his operation. Never thought I'd be so glad that my dad's got a new girlfriend. But I am. Gets him out of my hair for awhile. |
| Wednesday, April 23rd, 2008 | |
| 2:30 pm | eleven. I'm back in New York. Actually, I've been back for about a week now. But, you know, I still had a few postcards to pretend send from exotic locations (don't mind the NYC postmark), and I figured that announcing my presence back in the city would only lead to me being mobbed. Actually, maybe that's me thinking a bit too highly of myself. Current Mood: readingCurrent Music: The Artist In The Ambulance || Thrice |
| Saturday, March 29th, 2008 | |
| 4:54 pm | ten. Somehow, Florida doesn't seem quite as exciting as I thought it was. People always talk about the places they want to go on their vacations. They want to go to the beach, or to Disney World, or someplace warm and sunny. Sure, beaches are nice. Blue water is pretty amazing, and some of the... sights... are impressive, too. This whole trip has been filled with shiny new memories of places I'd never been before, things I'd never done. I wandered around art museums, slept out under the stars in an open field, hitch hiked, and flew in an airplane. I've had fried okra -- which I'll admit, I never knew even existed, but boy is it tasty. Current Mood:  blankCurrent Music: Piazza, New York Catcher || Belle & Sebastian |
| Friday, March 14th, 2008 | |
| 4:27 pm | nine. Deciding to drive from Santa Fe to Orlando is the best idea I've had in a long time. Of course, I'm not exactly taking the most orthodox route to get from point A to point B, but I'm seeing a lot, and it's nice. It probably would have been a bit easier if I'd actually driven anywhere in awhile. I have a driver's license, but I'm out of practice at it. I live in New York City, and live in a collective. I don't have a car. Current Mood: satisfiedCurrent Music: Band On The Run || Paul McCartney & Wings |
| Sunday, March 2nd, 2008 | |
| 3:36 am | eight. So I decided that I wasn't going to wait around anymore for the perfect opportunity to take a trip. If I kept waiting until I found the absolute right place to go first, or for the ideal price of airfare, or for some perceived sense of blessing or permission from... whoever... then I would probably rationalize my way out of ever going anywhere completely. So I just... went. Someday, I'll go to the South Pole. I'll go to the North Pole, cross the Sahara, cross Siberia, do something entirely stupid without having to worry about the consequences. Why? Because it's something I want to actually do, not just read stories by other people who have done it. I'll tell you, getting on an airplane was the scariest shit I've ever done in my life. But I can't wait to do it again. |
| Saturday, February 16th, 2008 | |
| 10:50 am | seven. Why is it that when I tell somebody I've been having a rough week, or a rough month, or a rough life, the first suggestion I always get from one wiseacre or another is "Dude, you just need to get laid. That'll fix you right up." Sex is the solution to all the problems in the world. Right. Don't get me wrong, I like sex as much as the next guy, but in my recent experience, it hasn't solved anything. Not even temporarily. If anything, it's given me more problems. Ugh, but before I go on a long tirade about something that nobody wants to hear about... maybe I'll switch gears for a bit. I talked to Mom the other day. I told her that I wanted to come down to Florida to visit her, and asked if it would be okay. I don't know, I thought it might be kind of weird, you know? She has this whole other life, a whole other family. As much as I feel like it's something I should do -- get out of the city for the first time ever, take that first step away from everything -- I almost feel like she might not want me there, but because she's my mom and she loves me, she might not want to tell me that. I haven't even brought up the subject to Dad. I haven't even decided if I'm going to tell him that I want to go to Florida or not. Jesus, I feel like a teenaged kid trying to sneak out of the house. Like I should be asking for permission to leave. I guess that's a new plateau of patheticism I've reached. In other news, I just started reading Long Way Down , a recounting of a motorcycle trek made from John O'Groats, Scotland to Cape Town, South Africa by actors Ewan McGregor and Charley Boorman. So far, it's engrossing and excellent. I get the feeling I should ease up on the travel books, though. They only make me all the more restless. But this one is so damned funny... I can't put it down. Current Mood: stressedCurrent Music: Give Judy My Notice || Ben Folds |
| Thursday, January 24th, 2008 | |
| 11:23 am | six. [Blocked from Gianna] So my dad met Gianna. And Gianna met my dad. Her dad. Our dad. Whatever. Things started out well, but it just felt more and more uncomfortable the longer we were all together. I'm still trying to work it out. Maybe I just have a fractured concept of family... as in, family is me and Dad. And Mom. But sitting there with the two of them, listening to him gab away about this and that, stories I've heard so many times repeated that they're just not interesting to me anymore... but she was interested. So instead of him being my dad, it was like he skipped right over the our dad stage, and left me out of it. He was her dad. I was a bystander, like I was eavesdropping on a family conversation. Of someone else's family. She has questions for him that I don't want to know the answers to. That's not so hard to believe, is it? Ugh. I just... don't want to think about any of it. Or either of them. Not for awhile, anyway. [/ Blocked] I'm a little disappointed that nobody had anything to say about my googlism post. But then again, I'm probably a big loser for finding it so amusing in the first place. I'm also irritated at the convenience store near my apartment, because they've stopped selling the drinks I like. I don't think they understand that I came into that store probably 80% of the time just to get a damned Sobe, and they stopped carrying them. What the hell is wrong with the world? Last night, I got the shit scared out of me by a cat and some trash cans. I was down the alley, working on this piece I've had in my head... it's kind of a taxi cab with wings design. I was using the silver to put a little chrome detail on the bumper when this stupid cat screams like crazy and knocks about six trash cans over. It freaked me out mid-spray, and now I have a big silver stripe across my black zip-up hooded sweatshirt. It looks kinda cool, I guess... but I'm still annoyed. It never would have happened if I wasn't so on edge lately. My head is not clear enough to be doing any painting, I guess... at least not on my own time. Current Mood: irritatedCurrent Music: I Came As A Rat || Modest Mouse |