Cool Keith...

Greatest influence in my life?

No, not Liam Gallagher, Rama, Osiris, Gwen Stacey or Boz of The Grand Ennui.
Not that big guy up above either. No, not that jerk - I was talking about Charles Lindbergh. That was a stupid joke.

Anyway...the single, greatest influence I've ever had in my life, was a friend that I had when I was five or something. Ackward sentence? Yes. My father used to drop me off at his house and Keith's mother would babysit us. I don't remember how my father knew Keith's mom. Keith's mom was pretty cool as far as I can remember. And what really qualifies as cool to a five year old? Did she let me watch shitty kung-fu movies? Did she make me grilled cheese sandwiches with the crusts cut off? Did she let me make out with her? Did she teach me how to write? Obviously, no. Whatever. She was cool, punk.

I had so much fun with Keith. He had alot of energy. We'd run around in the backyard, play hide and seek, bulid Lego towers and smash them down with our heads, we would scream alot. Out loud, out the window, at the mom, at the moon, whatever. She'd just laugh.

My father never understood me for the genius that I was. He'd get mad at me all of the time. I was always in trouble for something stupid that I did. I'd chop some furniture up with a kitchen knife or rip off all of my clothes in the night. I had an older brother to egg me on. He thought I was funny. So, if somebody else thinks I'm funny, that makes me funny, right? And I should continue, right?

What this boils down to is that my father started to notice that I was starting to act even stupider than normal. He said that I started making up my own language and then I taught it to my older brother. Now, not only did he have one idiot speaking idiot nonsense - he had two little idiots running around speaking gibberish. We stopped playing with our toys normally. We would just nudge them around or stare at them. My father had to re-teach us how to speak and how to play with toys like normal children. My father finally found out that Keith was retarded and I slowly stopped being dropped off at his house. And that was it. i don't know what happened to Keith or his cool mom. I don't know what type of explanation that my father finally gave. All that I know is that Keith was more fun than many of the people that I met years after that, and more honest.

Yeah, he was retarded.
I am too.
So are you.
My girlfriend has been vacuuming the house.
This story was poopy.

Goodbye.

Can You Hear Me Now?...

Watching a commercial for Sprint? with Little Richard. Not to be mean or anything, but I was thinking...why Little Richard? He's wacky, cool and all, and wrote some kick ass songs back in the day - but if I had the chance to see a rock and roll legend in a commercial, I'd rather see tons of different people. Morrison, Tom Waits...George Harrison? Shit, even Ringo Starr...wait, what am i saying?

God bless Little Richard.

I Like To Climb Trees...

Listening to The Pixies and waiting for The Michael Jackson two hour special on ABC...

Very content.

Okay, I Have An Idea...

I will write this post, and then when you comment - I will assign a movie for you to watch based on how well I do or don't know you based upon your website or my uncanny Charles Xavier-like psychic powers. Then...nothing, I guess. Just let me know how much you hated it. My girlfriend is asleep on the couch, also......Reese Witherspoon is being really short on TV, My teeth hurt from the dentist today. Remind me to cancel my appointment for next week, because we have to go to Disneyland to take pictures for our annual passes. It was a gift from me to her, so now I have to get one.

Oh, I'm going with my girlfriend - not Reese Witherspoon. She can go if she wants. She just can't bring her punk-ass husband.

I'm gonna punch Mickey in the asshole too.

Peter Parker...

Call me geeky...c'mon...okay...I managed to get back the comments that were erased by Haloscan's server bullshit. It took some time, trust me. Am I a genius or not? Probably not. BUT, I managed to erase all of the comments you posted today. Oh well. Sorry. I know it's not that big of a deal. We all need lives, but it does suck when you take the time to post funny "ha ha" on somebody else's funy "ha ha" and then come back to nuthin'. It's not my fault. I changed the color of the comments box-thingy too. That's what probably erased the most recent crapola. As a trade, I think it's not that bad. You can post again or I can tell you what you said. No I can't. I am devoid of recollective thought processes.

What am I saying again?

Oh yeah, sorry for the geeky post. This is not my thing. Neither is your mom.

Wubba Wubba Wubba, Downtown Julie Brown signing out.

Kind Of Sucks...

I have no idea why my archives are screwed again. I have no idea why half of the comments got wiped and don't work half the time. I have no idea why my B Stats aren't recording hits in the last 24 hours. I have no idea why everything is slow.

I have no idea.

Sucks.

I'd Love To Beat Her With A Stick...

In bed or in a deserted police station...

I.
Don't.
Know.


Really.

Clear...

I met Crystal through a friend of hers/neighbor of mine that worked with her. They worked at a flower distribution center thingy. I was game, I guess. I wasn't interested in much back then. I knew that relationships took too much effort even though I was unqualified to pass that judgment considering that I had never really willingly thrown myself in the commitment pool much. We started off with email. Then arranged a first date. Then I caught myself watching cooking shows in her boring-ass living room constantly. I watched all off my friends totally ignore her after seeing her drink a bottle of beer from in between her boobs. She talked constantly when she was socially nervous. Her favorite band was Counting Crows. She used to collect Crayola Crayon merchandise. She was an orphan. She didn't have silver dollars for eyes...she only had...me. It only lasted for...seven months? She got in a fight with my girlfriend before her, I got a new job that intimidated her. Ummmmmm.......

There was no particular reason why it didn't work out. It just didn't. There was no bad blood. No huge fights. That's kind of scary too, isn’t it? Shouldn't every great relationship have some major differences? But there wasn't anything. She was nice. I was too. We never talked about marriage or where the relationship was going to take us later. I really don't remember any significant moments with her. I'm not being apathetic. I just don't. We broke up amicably. She tried to come back to me later. I didn't bite. She left disappointed a small number of times. I didn't call back. That was it.

No bad blood.
Nothing wrong.
No horrible stories.
Boring story.

Great relationship, don't you think?

Michael Jackson, Spider Bites, Dangling Children Off Of Balconies, Nose jobs, Chimpanzee Molestation, And Sleeping With Young Boys...

I didn't say anything, did you?

Let's go climb a tree...

Cat Scratch Fever...

After the cigarette, I came back inside my house and saw three cats inside.

Only problem is...I only have...TWO.

Ouch.