Hey Pig...

I know it's really bad for me, but I really like bacon.

Porn too, but porn isn't high in sodium...

It's just lacking in moral fiber.

Big-Headed Monster...

I'm spoiled. I don't have to get up as early as I'm used to for my current job. I sleep in on weekends now. I must be getting old because I like to watch Saturday and Sunday morning cartoons, but I just can't do it no mo'. This morning I slept away, whined at my productive girlfriend's noise level, and then finally moved all of the covers from the bed to the couch. She was watching some horrible Charlie Sheen movie. Like there's only one, right? Then she left and I watched The Majestic. I didn't expect to like it, and wasn't going to watch it - but I was too lazy to get up. I actually kind of liked it. Then I started to watch an Ashley Judd movie, but grew tired of trying to figure out if she was hot or not. I wrestled various human food products away from our fat ass cat. Talked on the phone. I dried my girlfriend’s laundry for her while she was at work and realized that I was daydreaming in the backyard with a handful of her panties in my hand. I took out six bags of trash. Six. I don't know where it comes from, but I swear, we seem to accumulate more waste than your mom. I read some of my Chuck Palahniuk book and performed a movement in the bathroom Beethoven would've been proud of. I returned some phone calls, but still managed somehow to not call any of family. I'm bad; it takes me weeks to get back to them.

So when I called back Joe, he asked if I could do him a favor.

I just bought a TV off of someone from work. Do you think you could keep it for me for a while?

Two hours later, during the NBA All-Star game, Joe and Chris came over with it. It's thirty-six inches and now in my living room. After I hooked it up, I screamed because I saw a commercial with John Madden in it and his unusually gigantic head was now even bigger. I started to cry, but then Joe told me that his co-worker also asked if he wanted any free beer. I shut up. Then we ordered a pizza and watched an HBO special on cannibalism.

Hmmmm...do you mind if I use up your space with a big TV, give you forty beers, and buy some pizza? Remind me never to complain about anything.

To quote Ice Cube - Today Was A Good Day...

Cry Me A River...

Yes, I've been listening to that song by Justin Timberlake.

I'm sorry.

Please forgive me.

Toon Town...

Yes, I did go out last night. And yes, I did go see Bridget The Midget from The Howard Stern Show play in a punk rock band. Yes, I did drink way too much. And yes, I did have tons o' fun.

And no, I didn't really see her that well.

She was too short.

My God!...

It smells like farts in here.
My girlfriend made deviled eggs this morning.
Why do eggs smell like farts anyway?
Why don't beans smell like farts?

Do you have any Spiderman comics lying around?

I'll trade you something for them.
Maybe I'll draw you a picture or write a horrible poem.

Really. Cross my heart.

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.