You Don't EVEN Understand...

You think you know-but you have no friggin' idea, punks.
Grand Buffet's in town tonight. Two white guys rapping, dancing, and lickin' lollipops.

Be jealous. Be very jealous.

See What I get?...

For trying to be all Christ-massy?
I bought some Xmas cards in a Hallmark store the other day. A bunch of cards in a pack. The design on the outside didn't have any Jesus-stuff on it. The price was ridiculous, but was the least ridiculous compared to the rest. Underneath the card display it said that they'd print one free line for you. I bought the cards and had them say "Love Kevynn and Dawne" on the bottom of the card.

I picked them up before work today.

At this beautiful time of year,
we want to express
our appreciation for your business.
May your holidays be filled with
HOPE and JOY
and your new year with success.

Love, Kevynn and Dawne

Business.
BUSINESS.
BIZ-NATCH?

Fuck.

It looks like the liquor store is getting a Christmas card this year.

So Yesterday...

After the fight, or at least round one-I went to...

The Post Office.
Toy's R Us.
In N Out ( Thats a burger joint for those of you who don't know).
Stopped by a friend's house.
Found a new thrift store.
Went to the library.
Bought stuff at the grocery store.
AND had band practice.

We should argue more often, huh?

Even Her Cat Isn't Talking To Me...

So Did You Catch The Fight Last Night?...

No, I didn't. Who won?

Not Kevynn.

Yet Another Reason Why I'm A Bad Boyfriend...

Girlfriend asleep with a cold that I gave her.
Me awake at 1:37 am.
Eating Pez out of Chewbacca's neck.

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.