Say Hello To My Little Friend...


Go to my links on the left hand side of this webby/bloggy/thing and talk to my robot...

Let me know what you think, yo....

Bzzttt!!!

We should...

Exchange presents. We should trade crap that we have in our houses. If yopu really want to...yopu? What the hell is that? A Pokemon character? Use this comments section to propose a Christmas trade. It's not that hard to stick some junk of yours and send it in the mail...no feces though. I want none of that. No ebola virus, no monkeys paw either...

Leave a comment and your email too...

We should...It'd be fun-you never know what you'll get from me...

Oh wait. I said no feces, huh?

Damn!

Just For Today...

It's hard to think that one day we won't be here. Tomorrow. Eighty years. Tonight...you may die. Maybe one morning your significant other will wake up, wondering where you are, grasping the empty section of the bed next to them, and then cry...realizing that you'll never be back. You're gone. Maybe a friend will be at work or driving down the street and be struck with a fleeting image of your face or reminded of something you said. A passerby will remind them of you and they'll think how long it's been since you left. Your dog or cat will always wander by the door, making noise, wondering when you're coming home. What will happen to everything that you own? Inherited? Tossed out with the trash? Separated and dispensed between different people? Sold? Will your writing eventually be lost? All of your precious books scattered? What happens to pictures and photo albums a hundred years from now? Do a couple of them wind up in a thrift store? One found in between the pages of a book? What will the person who found it think? Will he toss it or spend time looking at every detail? Wondering exactly where and who you were?

What do we do with today? What did I do important? Maybe nothing big. Maybe my whole life just changed in the last minute. Just as long as you can absorb any notable moment. No matter how big or small-isn't that something?

So, what do I do know? Me with these feelings and this not societally acceptable awareness that I've had forever that will never go away? What do I do with it now that I'm getting older and the days seem to passing by even faster than they did before? What do I do when it gets a little harder to tap into that wide-eyed, open wonder that used to be constant? How do I dismantle the filters that I installed inside my brain through time?

Writing, I guess. Any activity. Remembering to look up at the sky like I always used to. Saying hello to the weeds growing in between the cracks of the sidewalks. Giving my cat an extra pat on the head and spending even more time with my girlfriend. Laughing louder. Driving faster? No, maybe not. Looking forward to tomorrow and to the last moments of tonight. Realizing that this crazy, expensive month, this Christmas, and all of our supposed worries that we had today are actually blessings that we're taking for granted. Damn, look at the stuff we're arguing or fretting about right now. Everything is...I don't know. Everything just...is. And that's it.

Someday I'll be forgotten and everything around me will disappear. Covered up, changed, overlooked or ignored. Everything so important won't matter. All that matters is that I did it. Whatever that was. Loving. Life. Raising children. Raising havoc. Raisin chickens? I just wrote Raisin Chickens...they come from grapes, you know...

So.

Just for today?...

Have fun. Be nice. Smack somebody around who's being stupid or mean to anybody undeserving. Be aware of your surroundings and become an addition to the beauty of it. Whether it's by saying hi to the neighbor's dog out loud or by blowing up the Death Star, Luke...Save a rain forrest or go to a bar and introduce yourself to the opposite sex as Forrest. Forrest Guuummmp.

So...just for today?

Breathe deep.
Open your eyes.
Have intercourse with your heart and soul.
Time is passing, folks...so catch it, punks.

And don't poop your pants...because that really smells...and it's a bitch to clean up.

Revenge Is A Dish Best Served With Phlegm...

Whoever got me sick deserves to be kicked in the crotch. Well, I'm not really that sick, I've just felt like crap for the last couple days. I know it was one of you I-Don't-Cover-My-Mouth-When-I-Cough Cretins. You suck. Bastards. Makin' me all sniffly and poo-headed. Eat it. I'm already getting better though, so there.

I need another beer...

Not to be mean...

But Strom Thurmond just turned 138 or something, and in the paper there was a picture of him now, and a picture of him from 1957. Hey-is that how you spell his name? Really? Strom? Or is it really Storm? Is he one of the X-Men? Did he attend The Xaviers Institute of Higher Learning? Ummm....

Anyway. He's old. Like I said, not to be mean-I'll be lucky to live that long and he's probably healthier than me. I bet I pee my pants alot more than he does. I started to feel a little guilty for ragging on the guy-I don't even know what he did/does...until I read this..."Strom holds the record for the longest-ever speech in the Senate, a 24-hour, 18-minute magnum opus filibuster in opposition to the 1957 Civil Rights Act. He was also the author of the 1956 “Southern Manifesto” against Brown v. Board of Education." Say goodbye to my guilt.

But, have you ever seen a picture of someone...your parents, an actor, anybody-and been amazed at how different or how good that person looked? Especially if it's a black and white photo. I almost typed porno. You notice alot of similarities between the old and young pictures, but sometimes the person looks hot or pretty bad-ass. My parent's don't count because they looked like movie stars in old photos I've seen and still look pretty good. My father especially. Sorry mom. Not that you can read this anyway. I sound like Eminem.There are a small handful of people who never seem to age. But they don't count because they're weird and most normal mortals will never get the chance to trade their soul to the devil, let alone meet him. To be accurate, there are some people who have always looked like shit. These can't be helped and we don't need to talk about them. They're in the McDonald's drive-thru lane honking their horn at the car in front of them, telling them to hurry up.

I know I was rambling and really didn't prove any point. All I'm trying to say is that it's amazing sometimes how fifty years, sometimes even five years can really affect a person's looks. So, lets look at ourselves in the mirror. To be honest, im not entirrely dissatisfied with what I see in the mirror, some days are better than others. Geez, some months are better than others. I know both of my parents have aged well. But when my Satan-Spawn-I mean, children look at pictures of me from this year, are they going to freak the fuck out? Are they going to think that I once actually looked okay? That I looked like I used to actually do things and not just sit around the house all day losing my teeth and my fucking marbles? Are they going to find it hard to believe that I used to talk to people? Because first thing I'm going to do when I become a senior citizen is to shut the hell up. If I want to communicate with people, I'll just draw them little stick figure doodles. They can try to figure it out if they want.

We'll see, I guess. But it sucks cuz' half of you wont be around to laugh at me when I shave my head and paint my face purple. I'll wear a shirt that says "Mr. Pruney Jack Ass."
Or maybe I'll just walk around the mall with a shirt that says "I got to third base with your grandmother!"

Or maybe I'll just fly uninvited to any of my grown up children's houses and when they answer the door, I'll point my finger at their faces and start to cackle. Then toss my cane in the tree, throw my fecal matter at their dog, do that leap where you click your heels in the air, strip down to my Depends and then run down the street...

Or maybe I'll die in my sleep tonight and we won't have to bother with any of this...

Bye.

When I Had Long Hair...

People used to say I looked like that guy Nuno from that crappy band, Extreme. Damn. Or that I looked like Lou Diamond Phillips or that I just plain looked like shit.

Now I get Harry Potter all the time or a skinny Clark Kent.

Better than people telling you that you look like Ellen Degeneres, I guess...

What A BeeYatch...

No, not Michael Jackson or his spider nemesis. So, my girlfriend just came home from visiting about eight stores to look for kitchen stool satan seat covers or something. Nothing in her hands. I asked her how the affair she's having is going. She asked me how my other girlfriend is. She's fine. Forget about that, check out what she just told me.

I guess my girlfriend and a woman were both looking at the same cream seat covers except that there was only one pack of three left. Four come in a pack. Somebody must have taken one out to look at it, like people do in stores sometimes. My girlfriend found the stray one from the pack a little later and...HID IT.

Yeah, tucked it away somewhere. Later she ends up seeing the lady in the store again and they have a long conversation about seat-thingys and tells my girlfriend that she can have the last pack if she wants because she can't find the other one. Then my girlfriend went outside to the pay phone to ask her mother some question about something and then ended up going home because the girl on the pay phone next to her was screaming fuck you and restraining order into the phone repeatedly and at top volume.

My girlfriend left.

Someone's getting coal in their karma stocking this Christmas...

Yeowwwww!...

If I ever meet the spider that bit Michael Jackson, I'll give it a sugar cube and shake its...hands.

That's gonna be the name of my new band...Michael Jackson Spider Bite.

Something To Remember...

Even if the double shot of tequila is free --
You Dont Have To Drink It.....

I Love The Damn, Fuckin' Library...

Oh, and thrift stores too. After work I bought a crapload of cheap books, but I won't tell you what most of them were because you'll laugh at me. Hey, they were only a quarter each...I also got a couple of books at the library. Prey by Micheal Chrichton and the Nanny Diaries by some crap head. I rented two movies also...Portrait Of A Lady with Nicole Kidman and...Zero Effect with Ben Stiller. I got two comic books also. See, I'm spoiled...my library has comic books.

I also saw your mom.

She says hi, and to send more money.

She needs new shoes.