Enough is enough!!
The time has come to take back the night!
Know when to say when!
No means no!
etc,etc,etc...
These are some of the most powerful and recognizable statements used in our everyday speech, but they have been over worked, bastardized and taken for granted. I say the time has come to give them a new lease on life and use them in the ways they were intended (before they were so greedily exploited, without representation... like immigrants)! With this dialogue now open, who knows what we can accomplish, it starts with words, but who knows maybe we could even put a man on the moon!
Without further ado, here are some ways we can still throw these bombastic statements around and not bury them in the English graveyard.
The next time I'm chillin' at the old cafe and the waitress comes around to see if I could use some more black stimulant juice I will look at her sternly and say, "Enough is Enough" and then make a slicing motion across my throat (to indicate the hot coffee is burning the swallowing tubes), this way she definitively knows that I have finished and would like my check when she has the time.
My new morning greeting while on my a.m. stroll will be, "The time has come to take back the night!"; and I am gonna pump my fist in the air (three times). Everyone who meets me on my walk will realize how much I enjoy going for a walk on a nice sunny day (this one will be contagious, I just know it)!
Knowing "when to say when" can be truly delicate as it depends entirely upon the conversation and the speakers involved. If it happens to be a couple of old grannies at the crafting store regaling one another with some far fetched anecdote of the time they knitted a blanky for one of their beloved (and since forgotten) grand children there is a bit more lee way, because they are old and cant remember shit.
If it happens to be your number one sweet lady and she keeps nagging you and saying "when are you doing this, when are you doing that, when are you..." just turn to her and say, "honey... know when to say when" and then make that slicing motion across your throat again (to let her know the Campbell's Tomato Soup that she made for dinner... again, is too hot).
"No means no," can only be used in political context from now on; otherwise no can still mean yes or maybe a little later or after the ghb kicks in. Those are also kind of political I guess, but what the hell this is America and we are making the decisions here!
Lets retire the "etc, etc, etc..." altogether, it's annoying as hell! When someone is mid-story and then busts out the "etc, etc, etc.." its like, why did you even fucking bother, your story sucks and I probably don't want to hear that part of your shitty story about some dumbass thing you did; if this were being done to curtail the conversation, maybe it would still have validity, but you keep dragging it on and on and on.... no more please.
Etc, etc, etc... is done from now on, either make sure it is a tale worthy of being told in its entirety or stop wasting our time so we don't have to do the faked laugh and smile business... I hate that shit!
Thanks for stopping by and have a great day! (I stole that from some old lady's blog about crafting, she ends every post with that... awesome!)
Thursday, October 28, 2010
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Decisions and Vomit
Yeah Buddy! There are days where everything just comes together like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich!
Today I realized not only is it awesome to drink good beer... it's even cooler to drink a bunch of good beer, look down at your bloated beergrancy belly and decide to do a bad ass ab workout!
This was definitely one of my better decisions of late (yelling at the chick with the pitbull who almost attacked me and walking down Vliet Street on the 1st were also pretty good).
Who could have imagined that attempting situps with a gastronomical amount of beer in ones gullet would lead to such trouble?
I for one assumed that drinking alone all evening and eating "organic" swamp weed (or whatever the fuck it was) was not only good for the bod, but also my soul (if I have one).
Prior to the "workout" there was a lot of gyration and convulsing during the big football game and maybe that had a little something to do with my current state of fetal alcohol kneeling (get it F.A.D., cause drinking and puking, goddammit there goes the build up, are so sweet right now.)
Now that I fucked that all up... I decided I was feelin a little "thick" in the middle and should do some ab shit, turns out that was total bs and I should have sat my stupid ass back down; but no, I was reveling in victory and needed to prove to myself that I still got it. I definitely don't got it! When did this happen? I used to be super kick ass, I could get all drunk and then run sprints in the alley or be blacked out and do pushups til the sun came up! Now I drink a few beers and fall asleep in the chair like some middle aged desk jockey who is all burnt out from paper work and taking the kids to soccer practice. Fuck all this, I am thirty three years young! Is this what getting older is about? Being a pussy ass baby who can't hold his liquor? It was only a couple of situps. There are solutions to this issue, but since I probably won't do shit about the root problem (the weak stomach, not the drinking) there is really no need to discuss this any further.
In a way I still got the ab workout in and since all the beer was sent down the old porcelain shit swallower.... no need to burn those calories.
Today I realized not only is it awesome to drink good beer... it's even cooler to drink a bunch of good beer, look down at your bloated beergrancy belly and decide to do a bad ass ab workout!
This was definitely one of my better decisions of late (yelling at the chick with the pitbull who almost attacked me and walking down Vliet Street on the 1st were also pretty good).
Who could have imagined that attempting situps with a gastronomical amount of beer in ones gullet would lead to such trouble?
I for one assumed that drinking alone all evening and eating "organic" swamp weed (or whatever the fuck it was) was not only good for the bod, but also my soul (if I have one).
Prior to the "workout" there was a lot of gyration and convulsing during the big football game and maybe that had a little something to do with my current state of fetal alcohol kneeling (get it F.A.D., cause drinking and puking, goddammit there goes the build up, are so sweet right now.)
Now that I fucked that all up... I decided I was feelin a little "thick" in the middle and should do some ab shit, turns out that was total bs and I should have sat my stupid ass back down; but no, I was reveling in victory and needed to prove to myself that I still got it. I definitely don't got it! When did this happen? I used to be super kick ass, I could get all drunk and then run sprints in the alley or be blacked out and do pushups til the sun came up! Now I drink a few beers and fall asleep in the chair like some middle aged desk jockey who is all burnt out from paper work and taking the kids to soccer practice. Fuck all this, I am thirty three years young! Is this what getting older is about? Being a pussy ass baby who can't hold his liquor? It was only a couple of situps. There are solutions to this issue, but since I probably won't do shit about the root problem (the weak stomach, not the drinking) there is really no need to discuss this any further.
In a way I still got the ab workout in and since all the beer was sent down the old porcelain shit swallower.... no need to burn those calories.
Friday, October 22, 2010
Ron Johnson Approved This Message
Hi... I'm Ron Johnson and I approved this message.
Uhmm... ok... cause I... ahh... was... what message?
Hi... I'm Ron Johnson and I approved this message.
Oh thanks for the clarity Ron, so it was the one about everything that is wrong with Russ Feingold?
I'm Ron Johnson and I approved this message.
Yep, I get it Ron. So... Russ Feingold is a baby raping murderer... liar.. yeah, he is pretty cool.
Holy shit Ronny you gotta start payin' attention to your messages, because I just saw your commercial about the things and the stuff... Fucked Up!!!
If I didn't know any better I would think you were running for Senate!
Hi... I'm Ron Johnson AND I APPROVED THIS MESSAGE!!!
Ron... NO... RON... I'M SORRY... I DIDN'T MEAN!
GODDAMIT RON JOHNSON YOU JUST MURDERED ME!!!
Don't vote for Ron Johnson he is a MURDERER.
Uhmm... ok... cause I... ahh... was... what message?
Hi... I'm Ron Johnson and I approved this message.
Oh thanks for the clarity Ron, so it was the one about everything that is wrong with Russ Feingold?
I'm Ron Johnson and I approved this message.
Yep, I get it Ron. So... Russ Feingold is a baby raping murderer... liar.. yeah, he is pretty cool.
Holy shit Ronny you gotta start payin' attention to your messages, because I just saw your commercial about the things and the stuff... Fucked Up!!!
If I didn't know any better I would think you were running for Senate!
Hi... I'm Ron Johnson AND I APPROVED THIS MESSAGE!!!
Ron... NO... RON... I'M SORRY... I DIDN'T MEAN!
GODDAMIT RON JOHNSON YOU JUST MURDERED ME!!!
Don't vote for Ron Johnson he is a MURDERER.
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
I Wrote A Play
Hello Hello!
Lets talk about work!
It just so happens I wrote a brief play about work so... enjoy!
Typical customer in a downtown watering hole on a Tuesday night during happy hour.
Waitress: "Hi, my name is Cindy, our special today is... and you can fatten that up with... and for only three dollars more you can..."
Randy: "Cindy, you can shut the fuck up and bring me a glass of whole milk and a snickerdoodle"
Cindy: "Sir I'm sorry we don't have cookies or milk here... this is a bar, would you like to speak with my manager"?
Randy: "Yes bitch, if you want a tip!"
Manager Tard: "Hi my name is Brad and I am the manager here at sizlbeesgarchiltueslobster, what seems to be the trouble sir?"
Jesus (me): "Well Brad... all I wanted was a fucking snickerdoodle and a glass of whole milk and Cindy spit on me, kicked me in the dick, raped my butt and then called my wife a diseased whore!"
"Cindy should be fired and I would like my money back."
Brad the Manager of this Shitty Chain: " Sir, I apologize for Cindy she is new here and will be dealt with and as far as the refund goes... you never ordered."
Guy Who is the Customer (right, always): "Brad you can suck a big fat dick and go fuck yourself, give me free stuff or I will send out a complaint e-mail to your corporate website and you will all be shitcanned so fast your faux hawked little head will spin."
Angry Manager Brad: "Sir again I apologize... here is a gift card that can be used at any one of our 3.2 million locations."
Happy Customer Me: " Thanks Brad and hey Cindy here is my number shoot me a call when you get off work later... so we can have sex."
FIN
In this play I was the asshole customer and of course that is not true, because I am the hero and have nothing but respect for human dignity, but this does occur on a regular basis.
In the real world I would play the part of Brad, Cindy would be a sophomore at Marquette University just trying to make ends meet and the customer would be played by any douche wearing a cheap suit, who just got off work downtown and needs to blow off some steam before heading home to Carol and the kids out in suburbtown. That being said... it is time for advice!
Customer: Seriously you are a fucking douchebag and every time you walk in the door the servers cringe at the thought of serving you, they collect around the Aloha system and make fun of your bad suit, balding head and pathetic attempts at flirting, my advice to you is shut the fuck up, quit whining, tip properly then go home and be miserable, do not bring it into the bar; save that for the wife and the six pack of High Life chillin' in the fridge.
Server: You are pretty much screwed, this butt plug is probably a regular and has never spent one minute working in a bar. If you are rude he will complain and get you fired, if you are nice he still won't tip, but he will continue to eye fist the hell out of you and probably bring his cronies in to join the fun! Best bet is to serve aloofly and $99 suit guy will lose interest and sit in another section (next servers problem).
Manager: Poor sucker, you are taking it in the ass repeatedly, you might as well move to Tijuana and join the donkey show 'cause it aint gettin' any better buddy! You are looking forward to a lifetime of bullshit being crammed up your ass from corporate and a mile of cock being rammed down your throat from unsatisfied customers and disillusioned staff. By the way this is just over the next six months bud. You have two options. Get the hell out now (the best option) or suck down that dick and crank up that smile, your ever expanding waste-line will only be matched by your sky rocketing blood pressure and it's no big deal 'cause you probably have a great health plan at work!
Lets talk about work!
It just so happens I wrote a brief play about work so... enjoy!
Typical customer in a downtown watering hole on a Tuesday night during happy hour.
Waitress: "Hi, my name is Cindy, our special today is... and you can fatten that up with... and for only three dollars more you can..."
Randy: "Cindy, you can shut the fuck up and bring me a glass of whole milk and a snickerdoodle"
Cindy: "Sir I'm sorry we don't have cookies or milk here... this is a bar, would you like to speak with my manager"?
Randy: "Yes bitch, if you want a tip!"
Manager Tard: "Hi my name is Brad and I am the manager here at sizlbeesgarchiltueslobster, what seems to be the trouble sir?"
Jesus (me): "Well Brad... all I wanted was a fucking snickerdoodle and a glass of whole milk and Cindy spit on me, kicked me in the dick, raped my butt and then called my wife a diseased whore!"
"Cindy should be fired and I would like my money back."
Brad the Manager of this Shitty Chain: " Sir, I apologize for Cindy she is new here and will be dealt with and as far as the refund goes... you never ordered."
Guy Who is the Customer (right, always): "Brad you can suck a big fat dick and go fuck yourself, give me free stuff or I will send out a complaint e-mail to your corporate website and you will all be shitcanned so fast your faux hawked little head will spin."
Angry Manager Brad: "Sir again I apologize... here is a gift card that can be used at any one of our 3.2 million locations."
Happy Customer Me: " Thanks Brad and hey Cindy here is my number shoot me a call when you get off work later... so we can have sex."
FIN
In this play I was the asshole customer and of course that is not true, because I am the hero and have nothing but respect for human dignity, but this does occur on a regular basis.
In the real world I would play the part of Brad, Cindy would be a sophomore at Marquette University just trying to make ends meet and the customer would be played by any douche wearing a cheap suit, who just got off work downtown and needs to blow off some steam before heading home to Carol and the kids out in suburbtown. That being said... it is time for advice!
Customer: Seriously you are a fucking douchebag and every time you walk in the door the servers cringe at the thought of serving you, they collect around the Aloha system and make fun of your bad suit, balding head and pathetic attempts at flirting, my advice to you is shut the fuck up, quit whining, tip properly then go home and be miserable, do not bring it into the bar; save that for the wife and the six pack of High Life chillin' in the fridge.
Server: You are pretty much screwed, this butt plug is probably a regular and has never spent one minute working in a bar. If you are rude he will complain and get you fired, if you are nice he still won't tip, but he will continue to eye fist the hell out of you and probably bring his cronies in to join the fun! Best bet is to serve aloofly and $99 suit guy will lose interest and sit in another section (next servers problem).
Manager: Poor sucker, you are taking it in the ass repeatedly, you might as well move to Tijuana and join the donkey show 'cause it aint gettin' any better buddy! You are looking forward to a lifetime of bullshit being crammed up your ass from corporate and a mile of cock being rammed down your throat from unsatisfied customers and disillusioned staff. By the way this is just over the next six months bud. You have two options. Get the hell out now (the best option) or suck down that dick and crank up that smile, your ever expanding waste-line will only be matched by your sky rocketing blood pressure and it's no big deal 'cause you probably have a great health plan at work!
You Might Not Want To Read This (unless...)
I would like to take a moment and thank all of you for following my blog, I do this for you guys you know, it's for the fans...
Ok fuck that I do this for me, because I think it is funny and I crack the fuck up when I think about what was happening when I wrote this shit.
There is so much stuff that I don't put in here.
Like last night... I am at Outpost trying to not look like a tool and as I am getting ready to check out some little kid comes running up with a loaf of bread, now this little bastard was ugly, he had those bulging blank eyes with that long dick looking nose and recessed chin and he kept saying "who is that, who is that" to his fat piece of shit mom. The little fucker threw his bread up with my shit and as I am checking out the cashier rang it up with my groceries! Now normally I would play civil and laugh it off, but the fat bitch just looked at me through her glasses and bloated ass face and whispered to the cashier "that's not his". No fucking shit mongoloid, your dumbass kid is gonna get a beat down, the moron kept running into me and the other customers while his "mother" did nothing but smile! Maybe her orange Crocs made all of that acceptable or it could have been the coupons (which she bitched about when they told her they were expired by two months... arggh!) in her pudgy little paw of a hand; man that kid is going to get the shit kicked out of him at school and it is his complacent madres fault. I just have no patience for these people.
I am not a parent and never will be, for those who are please remember I am drunk as shit right now (on Dexters' Lab his sister just said " oh puussy you are so warm" WOW!!) and venting my frustrations. It's not that I am a bad guy I just don't believe it to be necessary to become subserviant to a generation of snot nosed undisciplined pussies who are having others arrested for cyberbullying! Cyberbullying, not even in your face make you cry and piss your pants at recess bullying! Some childrens's psychological make up will prevent them from being able to handle "cyber bullying" I have been told, but when I was a kid Davey the Baby's dad beat the shit out of him we still made fun of him and that kid has been fuckin shit up for years in the military.
Every time I open my sexy mouth and release an unending stream of profane wisdom someone reminds me that there are children present. Fine I am offensive to some, but they are offensive to me, I don't want to look at your kid, I don't think it is cute or smart or special. I am gonna start dropping f bombs and n bombs and whatever else sorta bombs I can conjure up while I try to make gold from lead fucker.
Fine I am intoxicated, fine I can't finish the article that I am supposed to be writing, fine I am totally fucking fine (holy shit the guy on Dastardly and Muttly is the voice of Garghamel, I love the Smurfs!!!)
Ok fuck that I do this for me, because I think it is funny and I crack the fuck up when I think about what was happening when I wrote this shit.
There is so much stuff that I don't put in here.
Like last night... I am at Outpost trying to not look like a tool and as I am getting ready to check out some little kid comes running up with a loaf of bread, now this little bastard was ugly, he had those bulging blank eyes with that long dick looking nose and recessed chin and he kept saying "who is that, who is that" to his fat piece of shit mom. The little fucker threw his bread up with my shit and as I am checking out the cashier rang it up with my groceries! Now normally I would play civil and laugh it off, but the fat bitch just looked at me through her glasses and bloated ass face and whispered to the cashier "that's not his". No fucking shit mongoloid, your dumbass kid is gonna get a beat down, the moron kept running into me and the other customers while his "mother" did nothing but smile! Maybe her orange Crocs made all of that acceptable or it could have been the coupons (which she bitched about when they told her they were expired by two months... arggh!) in her pudgy little paw of a hand; man that kid is going to get the shit kicked out of him at school and it is his complacent madres fault. I just have no patience for these people.
I am not a parent and never will be, for those who are please remember I am drunk as shit right now (on Dexters' Lab his sister just said " oh puussy you are so warm" WOW!!) and venting my frustrations. It's not that I am a bad guy I just don't believe it to be necessary to become subserviant to a generation of snot nosed undisciplined pussies who are having others arrested for cyberbullying! Cyberbullying, not even in your face make you cry and piss your pants at recess bullying! Some childrens's psychological make up will prevent them from being able to handle "cyber bullying" I have been told, but when I was a kid Davey the Baby's dad beat the shit out of him we still made fun of him and that kid has been fuckin shit up for years in the military.
Every time I open my sexy mouth and release an unending stream of profane wisdom someone reminds me that there are children present. Fine I am offensive to some, but they are offensive to me, I don't want to look at your kid, I don't think it is cute or smart or special. I am gonna start dropping f bombs and n bombs and whatever else sorta bombs I can conjure up while I try to make gold from lead fucker.
Fine I am intoxicated, fine I can't finish the article that I am supposed to be writing, fine I am totally fucking fine (holy shit the guy on Dastardly and Muttly is the voice of Garghamel, I love the Smurfs!!!)
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Morgan Freeman Was Briefly My Father
I should pobably be famous.
When it comes to vastly untapped potential this guy is the largest repository of inert awesome stuff in the world, hands down!!
The other day when I was jabber jawing with some of my peers they were like, "whoa dude you should probably take it down a notch before your head goo comes out of your listening caves" and they were right, cause it did.
People approach me all the time and say "hey aren't you that guy?" and I am, so I say "fuck off can't you see that I am in the middle of eating with my best friend Jared from Subway and he has a marathon to run against some black guys from Africa who will probably beat him because he is fat from eating all of this Subway!"
When they make the movie of my life I would like Morgan Freeman to play the part of my father and in this scene where I am a kid and we are at the baseball card shop he looks down at me and says "this guy's a collector", but then he gets hit by a bus (which makes the movie tragic and besides it's based on a true story). The bus driver decides to raise me as his own son (out of guilt for having sex with my mom, six years before he kills my dad Morgan Freeman) and he trains me in the arts of carpentry and karate, because he knows that my life is going to be tumultuos (cause I am a bastard). It will flash forward to highschool (and I want Rob Schneider to play this part) where I (Rob Schneider) have to karate fight the jocks after school before I head to my construction job and one day they corner me outside of Subway (I like Jared) and are beating me up and this guy comes out of nowhere and takes them all out! He reaches down and helps me up and says "Are you ok... little brother!?"
This is when my long lost older brother (Mickey Rourke) returned from juvy to get a fresh start and the whole town thinks he is no good so we have to karate fight all the jocks and they almost beat us but dad shows up with the bus and crashes through the gymnasium to save us. Unfortunately he is crushed by the falling backboard (which is why I hate basketball) and his last words to me are "Sheamus, I am your....." (I think Devito should play my bus driver dad)
Greatest movie idea ever and totally original.
I have had a relatively amazing life so the movie should be made into a trilogy a prequel and a postquel, but should be left open ended for my time traveling adventures.
Sometimes when I get side tracked like this it would be best to ignore what is happening and go back to social networking so as to no longer be effected by my word juice... which tastes surprisingly like cran-apple.
Seriously though, no fuckin around I should be famous... and rich, definitely famous and rich.
When it comes to vastly untapped potential this guy is the largest repository of inert awesome stuff in the world, hands down!!
The other day when I was jabber jawing with some of my peers they were like, "whoa dude you should probably take it down a notch before your head goo comes out of your listening caves" and they were right, cause it did.
People approach me all the time and say "hey aren't you that guy?" and I am, so I say "fuck off can't you see that I am in the middle of eating with my best friend Jared from Subway and he has a marathon to run against some black guys from Africa who will probably beat him because he is fat from eating all of this Subway!"
When they make the movie of my life I would like Morgan Freeman to play the part of my father and in this scene where I am a kid and we are at the baseball card shop he looks down at me and says "this guy's a collector", but then he gets hit by a bus (which makes the movie tragic and besides it's based on a true story). The bus driver decides to raise me as his own son (out of guilt for having sex with my mom, six years before he kills my dad Morgan Freeman) and he trains me in the arts of carpentry and karate, because he knows that my life is going to be tumultuos (cause I am a bastard). It will flash forward to highschool (and I want Rob Schneider to play this part) where I (Rob Schneider) have to karate fight the jocks after school before I head to my construction job and one day they corner me outside of Subway (I like Jared) and are beating me up and this guy comes out of nowhere and takes them all out! He reaches down and helps me up and says "Are you ok... little brother!?"
This is when my long lost older brother (Mickey Rourke) returned from juvy to get a fresh start and the whole town thinks he is no good so we have to karate fight all the jocks and they almost beat us but dad shows up with the bus and crashes through the gymnasium to save us. Unfortunately he is crushed by the falling backboard (which is why I hate basketball) and his last words to me are "Sheamus, I am your....." (I think Devito should play my bus driver dad)
Greatest movie idea ever and totally original.
I have had a relatively amazing life so the movie should be made into a trilogy a prequel and a postquel, but should be left open ended for my time traveling adventures.
Sometimes when I get side tracked like this it would be best to ignore what is happening and go back to social networking so as to no longer be effected by my word juice... which tastes surprisingly like cran-apple.
Seriously though, no fuckin around I should be famous... and rich, definitely famous and rich.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Wine Time
Sometimes the typing digits are just alive with pleasure (even better than a particular brand of smokes) and the keypads just need to be struck.
I have been having a truly swell evening and was wondering, if you put ice cubes in wine does that make it a wine cooler?
Nope just makes it even nastier.
Drinking wine is lame the drunk is good, but it automatically makes you pretentious. Five minutes ago I was wearing sweats and a hoody, now an ascot... I don't even own a fucking ascot and wear did this cumber bun come from?
How droll!
I may start regaling you with tales of my conquests at Yale or my rowing prowess.
What the fuck?
What is the vintage of this Bordeaux; mmm earthy with a hint of sandalwood.
Seriously this is the wine talking.
There is a refridgerator full of that pedestrian beverage the heathens call beer.
Jazz is deliscious and I simply adore the prophetic stylings of Mr. Josh Groban.
My Love of 60's French cinema is only surpassed by my adulation of Nitzsche.
Maybe tomorrow we should go to the cafe and have cappucino, but only before ten... no one drinks cappucino after the settling of the mid morning dew.
If one were to suppose his place in the universe were merely more than a fragmentation of time would you consider him to be a visionary or your standard philosophy professor?
It is true what they say you know? our perceived role within our own peer group is a reflection of our own infantile wanton need for acceptance within the sub draconian layers of self guilt passed to us by the diffusion of said memes.
Time to let the wine breath!
I have been having a truly swell evening and was wondering, if you put ice cubes in wine does that make it a wine cooler?
Nope just makes it even nastier.
Drinking wine is lame the drunk is good, but it automatically makes you pretentious. Five minutes ago I was wearing sweats and a hoody, now an ascot... I don't even own a fucking ascot and wear did this cumber bun come from?
How droll!
I may start regaling you with tales of my conquests at Yale or my rowing prowess.
What the fuck?
What is the vintage of this Bordeaux; mmm earthy with a hint of sandalwood.
Seriously this is the wine talking.
There is a refridgerator full of that pedestrian beverage the heathens call beer.
Jazz is deliscious and I simply adore the prophetic stylings of Mr. Josh Groban.
My Love of 60's French cinema is only surpassed by my adulation of Nitzsche.
Maybe tomorrow we should go to the cafe and have cappucino, but only before ten... no one drinks cappucino after the settling of the mid morning dew.
If one were to suppose his place in the universe were merely more than a fragmentation of time would you consider him to be a visionary or your standard philosophy professor?
It is true what they say you know? our perceived role within our own peer group is a reflection of our own infantile wanton need for acceptance within the sub draconian layers of self guilt passed to us by the diffusion of said memes.
Time to let the wine breath!
Factual Observations Made From My Front Steps Between The Hours Of 10 and 2
Today was an enlightening day, the kind of day where all of my beliefs and built in coping mechanisms were smashed into tiny fragments and then reassembled by some blind kid in Bangladesh who doesn't realize he has worked all day and night cause he is just trying to pay the bills so his sister can get that operation she needs to live (stupid kid the label is supposed to say Made In America spelled with an A... fucking blind people).
Today's Facts:
Corn rows look really hot on overweight Caucasian girls pushing a stroller.
The Mormon kids who stopped by for a little hangin time were dynamite.
Espresso tastes like shit.
My neighbor's license plates say KRZY WMN, but she is just fat.
Sesame Street has really gone down the fucking tubes. I was watching it at some Mexican restaurant during lunch and it just didn't pack that same old learning punch it used to.
Dogs are stupid, but so are babies and babies look way cooler on leashes anyways.
The yield to pedestrians sign in front of my house means... don't slow down for me and definitely flip me off and call me a faggot so you get your point across at 65 mph.
The dude purchasing a four pack of Beast Ice at 10:00 am is gonna party.
It's cool that all the forty year old men sit on their porches when the elementary school lets out across the street.
Just because I looked at you doesn't mean I want to talk to you old lady... get some friends.
High school kids are really smart.
Teeth are overrated and get in the way of smokin sidewalk cigs.
All of the kids around here definitely have bright fucking futures.
I learned a ton of good shit today within two blocks of my house and all of it is factual information that can be used for the betterment of mankind.
Today's Facts:
Corn rows look really hot on overweight Caucasian girls pushing a stroller.
The Mormon kids who stopped by for a little hangin time were dynamite.
Espresso tastes like shit.
My neighbor's license plates say KRZY WMN, but she is just fat.
Sesame Street has really gone down the fucking tubes. I was watching it at some Mexican restaurant during lunch and it just didn't pack that same old learning punch it used to.
Dogs are stupid, but so are babies and babies look way cooler on leashes anyways.
The yield to pedestrians sign in front of my house means... don't slow down for me and definitely flip me off and call me a faggot so you get your point across at 65 mph.
The dude purchasing a four pack of Beast Ice at 10:00 am is gonna party.
It's cool that all the forty year old men sit on their porches when the elementary school lets out across the street.
Just because I looked at you doesn't mean I want to talk to you old lady... get some friends.
High school kids are really smart.
Teeth are overrated and get in the way of smokin sidewalk cigs.
All of the kids around here definitely have bright fucking futures.
I learned a ton of good shit today within two blocks of my house and all of it is factual information that can be used for the betterment of mankind.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Just Thinkin Bout Stuff
Can you believe America even existed before Facebook?
Huh... Can you?
Well I for one cannot envision a world where I am not privy to the knowledge of what everyone is doing at all times.
Tammy is baking cookies!? I like cookies better give it the thumbs up so she knows that I like cookies too.
Dave is gonna watch Anderson Cooper 360 tonight for an update on the miners, I watch tv, better leave a comment. "You go girl! AC360 all night... lol"
Holy Shit, Charlie updated his status to awesome. I had better update mine too, to jealous!!!
Some of my friends I haven't seen or spoken to in over ten years and never would have unless Facebook saved America from Communism and Terrorism.
Hey, do you think those miners are on facebook? I'm gonna friend request them and then share that with all of my friends.
and by the way Marcos... that isn't even you in your profile picture, how will we know what you look like now... so rude... wall to wall
Huh... Can you?
Well I for one cannot envision a world where I am not privy to the knowledge of what everyone is doing at all times.
Tammy is baking cookies!? I like cookies better give it the thumbs up so she knows that I like cookies too.
Dave is gonna watch Anderson Cooper 360 tonight for an update on the miners, I watch tv, better leave a comment. "You go girl! AC360 all night... lol"
Holy Shit, Charlie updated his status to awesome. I had better update mine too, to jealous!!!
Some of my friends I haven't seen or spoken to in over ten years and never would have unless Facebook saved America from Communism and Terrorism.
Hey, do you think those miners are on facebook? I'm gonna friend request them and then share that with all of my friends.
and by the way Marcos... that isn't even you in your profile picture, how will we know what you look like now... so rude... wall to wall
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Questions
Some hippies ruined my day today.
They were in the park playing hacky sack or frisbee or something.
I was going to write this piece about how we have all let Whitney Houston down because we were the children in that song about how we were going to be the future and we were going to lead the way, but the hacky sack players fucked that all up and I have spent all day trying to answer some important questions. Those hippies definitely let old Whit down, but I bet they possess a lot of beauty inside and those stupid pussies are proud of it... pachuli.
Unanswerable Questions:
Does Summers Eve bring back freshness, every time?
How many abortions would be considered excessive?
Mormons?
When did Kobe become not a raper?
Why do ghosts always appear to fat chicks and why are all fat chicks psychics?
When are they going to make Mr. Belvedere into a musical?
How come black people can't swim and if they could, how fast?
Is Brawny really the quicker picker upper?
Is the Facebook movie the most important movie... ever?
Assfucking?
Do hairgel and Affliction equal awesome?
Why are Mexicans so good at cutting grass, do they even have grass in Mexico?
Does Masturbation cause glaucoma?
These are questions that have absolutely no answer, believe me I have spent all day on these brain busters (thank you Billy Madison) and I have come up with zilch. There were more, but I answered all of those.
Is there life after death? Totally for some people, but not for others.
Does Kotex offer the most protection. I say yes; I couldn't figure out how to get it in my butt, but it seemed legit.
Asians? Science says no.
Is there a better diet plan than doin the meth? Absolutely, heroine suppositories mixed with vodka (worked for Anna Nicole...baby)
Are Transformers more than meets the eye? Sure.
Did we really let Whitney down? Initially yes, but I think she forgot all about us after the crack rocks, pills and Bobby beatdowns, therefore the answer is no; she let me down and I may now blame all of my failures upon Ms. Houston and hippies.
They were in the park playing hacky sack or frisbee or something.
I was going to write this piece about how we have all let Whitney Houston down because we were the children in that song about how we were going to be the future and we were going to lead the way, but the hacky sack players fucked that all up and I have spent all day trying to answer some important questions. Those hippies definitely let old Whit down, but I bet they possess a lot of beauty inside and those stupid pussies are proud of it... pachuli.
Unanswerable Questions:
Does Summers Eve bring back freshness, every time?
How many abortions would be considered excessive?
Mormons?
When did Kobe become not a raper?
Why do ghosts always appear to fat chicks and why are all fat chicks psychics?
When are they going to make Mr. Belvedere into a musical?
How come black people can't swim and if they could, how fast?
Is Brawny really the quicker picker upper?
Is the Facebook movie the most important movie... ever?
Assfucking?
Do hairgel and Affliction equal awesome?
Why are Mexicans so good at cutting grass, do they even have grass in Mexico?
Does Masturbation cause glaucoma?
These are questions that have absolutely no answer, believe me I have spent all day on these brain busters (thank you Billy Madison) and I have come up with zilch. There were more, but I answered all of those.
Is there life after death? Totally for some people, but not for others.
Does Kotex offer the most protection. I say yes; I couldn't figure out how to get it in my butt, but it seemed legit.
Asians? Science says no.
Is there a better diet plan than doin the meth? Absolutely, heroine suppositories mixed with vodka (worked for Anna Nicole...baby)
Are Transformers more than meets the eye? Sure.
Did we really let Whitney down? Initially yes, but I think she forgot all about us after the crack rocks, pills and Bobby beatdowns, therefore the answer is no; she let me down and I may now blame all of my failures upon Ms. Houston and hippies.
Monday, October 4, 2010
The Ultimate Workout
Ok, lets see here... alright... here we go... better lube up first... goddammit why is this so fucking hard today!?
So I have this article to write for a magazine and it is due in a couple of days, sounds simple enough right?
The assignment is about new and obscure workouts that have been sweeping the nation.
I'm in shape, this should be a piece of fucking cake...
Fuck! Why can't I write about something sweet like how good I am at beating it (that's a workout) or how kick ass I am at television. I know a metric fuckton (how much would that weigh... question for later?)about that shit, but no they want me to do research and try to do these workouts! The only option left is for me to drink this crappy wine and download some shit off the internet. So of course I have discovered the greatest workout since building pyramids by hand... ULTIMATE SANDBAG WORKOUT!!!!
At first I imagined people desperately filling and piling sandbags to hold back the raging torrent of some river, but this is an actual exercise program developed by actual kinda fit people. To me it just looked like a camouflage duffel bag filled with some stupid fucking sand (sand $5.00, duffel $10.00), but this is a high tech bag of "exercise sand" with a street value more similar to cocaine than torpedo sand!
Since I have neither the time nor the money to purchase this "ultimate sandbag" I have made my own from an old duffel bag I took from some kid and sand I found down by the lake (I don't care if I look like a filthy hobo with my shovel filling a duffel... oh fuck I shoulda taken out the kid's homework). The shoveling alone was a total back and shoulder burn and since I had no scale to weigh the bag I had to just eye it up. It did look about the same as the guy in the video's bag so what could possibly go wrong?
Problem the First: the bag was too fucking heavy and I had to keep stopping to take sand out.
Dos: The kid that I "borrowed" the bag from spotted me and started to chase me, but I hit him with the shovel (the running part was pretty amazing for the quads, calves and glutes; kinda hurt the back though) and he stopped chasing me (also good for interval workout!).
Third Problem: The drawstring on my sweats is broken so they kept falling down and tripping me. I probably tore my ACL, but it did make for a great upper body workout having to push myself back up.
Problem After Third Problem: The stupid fucking duffel bag broke because it was a cheap piece of shit. I had to keep lunging down to put the sand back in it every few feet but after ten minutes of this I was so spent that I fell down with the bag on top of me and had to keep sitting up to get it off of me!
What a waste, now I will never know if the "Ultimate Sandbag Workout" is effective.
Guess I'll just write about P-90X.
So I have this article to write for a magazine and it is due in a couple of days, sounds simple enough right?
The assignment is about new and obscure workouts that have been sweeping the nation.
I'm in shape, this should be a piece of fucking cake...
Fuck! Why can't I write about something sweet like how good I am at beating it (that's a workout) or how kick ass I am at television. I know a metric fuckton (how much would that weigh... question for later?)about that shit, but no they want me to do research and try to do these workouts! The only option left is for me to drink this crappy wine and download some shit off the internet. So of course I have discovered the greatest workout since building pyramids by hand... ULTIMATE SANDBAG WORKOUT!!!!
At first I imagined people desperately filling and piling sandbags to hold back the raging torrent of some river, but this is an actual exercise program developed by actual kinda fit people. To me it just looked like a camouflage duffel bag filled with some stupid fucking sand (sand $5.00, duffel $10.00), but this is a high tech bag of "exercise sand" with a street value more similar to cocaine than torpedo sand!
Since I have neither the time nor the money to purchase this "ultimate sandbag" I have made my own from an old duffel bag I took from some kid and sand I found down by the lake (I don't care if I look like a filthy hobo with my shovel filling a duffel... oh fuck I shoulda taken out the kid's homework). The shoveling alone was a total back and shoulder burn and since I had no scale to weigh the bag I had to just eye it up. It did look about the same as the guy in the video's bag so what could possibly go wrong?
Problem the First: the bag was too fucking heavy and I had to keep stopping to take sand out.
Dos: The kid that I "borrowed" the bag from spotted me and started to chase me, but I hit him with the shovel (the running part was pretty amazing for the quads, calves and glutes; kinda hurt the back though) and he stopped chasing me (also good for interval workout!).
Third Problem: The drawstring on my sweats is broken so they kept falling down and tripping me. I probably tore my ACL, but it did make for a great upper body workout having to push myself back up.
Problem After Third Problem: The stupid fucking duffel bag broke because it was a cheap piece of shit. I had to keep lunging down to put the sand back in it every few feet but after ten minutes of this I was so spent that I fell down with the bag on top of me and had to keep sitting up to get it off of me!
What a waste, now I will never know if the "Ultimate Sandbag Workout" is effective.
Guess I'll just write about P-90X.
Sunday, October 3, 2010
The Dictionary is Really Useful
Can you say boring?
I know that I can and astonishingly enough I can also spell it.
F-A-R-M-A-I-D
I have heard some people spell it without the farm or aid part, but I looked this shit up in Webster's and there it was on page 521 wedged between boredom and boron.
According to Mr. Dictionary, Neil Young is Canadian (retarded), Willie Nelson is like an old Pippy Longstocking only high as shit and John Mellencamp (aka cougs) thinks he's a fifties greaser when he is actually some sort of Hobbit or Troll like creature. There is also some guy that everyone is on a first name basis with named Dave, but I don't know the guy and I am pretty popular in some circles.
Now no one is passing judgement on this B-O-R-I-N-G (Farmaid) it is for a cause and that makes it good. There are all sorts of causes: Scientology (also spelled C-R-U-I-S-E), abortion (F-R-E-E-D-O-M), democracy (S-A-T-A-N) and of course Africa (A-I-D-S), this is just a brief glimpse into the world of causes that I found in the Dictionary and it says they are all profitable ventures and therefore good for me to feign interest in.
Due to the fact that I am an American (F-R-E-E-T-H-I-N-K-E-R); I decided to heed Pippy and troll guys' advice and go to Trader Joe's to read some labels and find a maid (cause I am a M-A-N and that's what I need).
O-R-G-A-N-I-C?
That is on most of the labels so I had to look that up too.
Hmm? I forgot my Dictionary so I had to do the research in my copy of US weekly (T-H-E-S-A-U-R-U-S) and lo and behold there it was... the Canadian was more right than I could have foreseen.
Brad (J-E-S-U-S), Megan (H-O-T), the Jersey Shore Crew (S-C-I-E-N-T-I-S-T-S) all buying organic at Trader Joe's?
This helped me realize that the only decision left for me to make entirely on my own with no outside input from anyone besides myself or from Hollywood (C-A-M-E-L-O-T) was to change my lifestyle, go green, drive twenty miles each way in my eight cylinder truck to park in the several acre parking structure attached to the wonderfully air conditioned Trader Joe's and buy all of the organic products that have been shipped in from all over the world to the Midwest!
So what if I wasted an entire day of my life that I will never have back. I went green, saved a farm and learned a little bit about myself and that is what Farmaid (L-I-F-E A-F-F-I-R-M-I-N-G) is all about.
I know that I can and astonishingly enough I can also spell it.
F-A-R-M-A-I-D
I have heard some people spell it without the farm or aid part, but I looked this shit up in Webster's and there it was on page 521 wedged between boredom and boron.
According to Mr. Dictionary, Neil Young is Canadian (retarded), Willie Nelson is like an old Pippy Longstocking only high as shit and John Mellencamp (aka cougs) thinks he's a fifties greaser when he is actually some sort of Hobbit or Troll like creature. There is also some guy that everyone is on a first name basis with named Dave, but I don't know the guy and I am pretty popular in some circles.
Now no one is passing judgement on this B-O-R-I-N-G (Farmaid) it is for a cause and that makes it good. There are all sorts of causes: Scientology (also spelled C-R-U-I-S-E), abortion (F-R-E-E-D-O-M), democracy (S-A-T-A-N) and of course Africa (A-I-D-S), this is just a brief glimpse into the world of causes that I found in the Dictionary and it says they are all profitable ventures and therefore good for me to feign interest in.
Due to the fact that I am an American (F-R-E-E-T-H-I-N-K-E-R); I decided to heed Pippy and troll guys' advice and go to Trader Joe's to read some labels and find a maid (cause I am a M-A-N and that's what I need).
O-R-G-A-N-I-C?
That is on most of the labels so I had to look that up too.
Hmm? I forgot my Dictionary so I had to do the research in my copy of US weekly (T-H-E-S-A-U-R-U-S) and lo and behold there it was... the Canadian was more right than I could have foreseen.
Brad (J-E-S-U-S), Megan (H-O-T), the Jersey Shore Crew (S-C-I-E-N-T-I-S-T-S) all buying organic at Trader Joe's?
This helped me realize that the only decision left for me to make entirely on my own with no outside input from anyone besides myself or from Hollywood (C-A-M-E-L-O-T) was to change my lifestyle, go green, drive twenty miles each way in my eight cylinder truck to park in the several acre parking structure attached to the wonderfully air conditioned Trader Joe's and buy all of the organic products that have been shipped in from all over the world to the Midwest!
So what if I wasted an entire day of my life that I will never have back. I went green, saved a farm and learned a little bit about myself and that is what Farmaid (L-I-F-E A-F-F-I-R-M-I-N-G) is all about.
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