The Olson Twinge...

This damn kitty is going to jump on the keyboard - I know it. After I get back from bartending, I feel nothing. I barely drink - that's how out of it I feel. I come in, get out of my crappy tie, and check on the galfriend. I say hi to the cats. Look around the house for psychos, murderers, and hiding mormons, and usually look for something to eat - even though I'm not in the mood for anything. I turn on the computer and usually go through a quick version of my routine. I check my email, bloggy thingy, and maybe some other sites. Then I realize that it's later than it even was when I came in, and curse myself for even turning on The Beast in the first place if I wasn't going to write anything Hollywood-wise. All of these ideas floating behind my eyeballs. All day. And all I do when I get home is check my site and yours. And porn. Don't forget the porn. But I don't feel guilty about that.

Good Morning, Baby...

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The Cure...

This is not about Robert Smith.
Anyway, sometimes when I start to tell my friends a story -
they stop me and say that they already read it on my website.
This bums me out and makes me feel a bit strange,
so I've come up with an answer......
......to get rid of my friends...

Beezelbub And Romona...

Thinking furiously,
And with a head full of flies.
Trying to get buzzed,
Before the whole world dies...

Max Headroom...

This a better day than yesterday.
It's sticky hot, though.
Peanut butter madness.
Do you feel like writing reviews or rants???
Go talk to Hard over at The Hard Artist...
Thanks, Bubba.

Ah, hell...Today/tonight wasn't so bad, was it?...

I played Star Wars Galaxies with Joe, and taught my wookie how to dance.
I just got done bbq'in' at five in tha' mornin'.
And got bitten by a spider on my forearm that I hope/pray was radioactive.

Dude.

God, That Was Stupid...

I apologize for my last two posts.
It's one of those nights.

Dude.

Leaving Las Scissorhands...

Watched Leaving Las Vegas. Haven't seen that in a long time. It makes me not want to drink...Vodka and Tequila! Ha!
Anyway, it was pretty good, and what ever happened to everybody's favorite babysitter, Elizabeth Shue? Who cares about that Melrose Place brother of hers. So, it made me think about all of the cool roles that Nic has played, and then it made me think about Johnny Depps career.

Who do you like better?

Nic?

Johnny?

Lady, I'm Gonna Have To Ask You To Leave The Store...

Who would you want to win in a fight between Brittney Murphy and Britney Spears?
Tom Green or Alan Greenspan?
Would you rather live in Iraq or Afghanistan?
Matrix Trilogy, so far, or Lord Of The Rings?
Do you come in peace or go in pieces?
Spiderman or Batman?
Kirsten Dunst or Keira Knightley?
Movies or books?
Favorite book?
Favorite movie?
Favorite website?
Would you rather have a super nice car or a super nice wardrobe?
Ever shoot a gun?
Been in a fight?
Why am I writing this? What happened to what I was supposed to put down?
Do people like you?
Who do you hate today, besides me?
Drink much?
Smoke much?
Nervous habit?
Masturbate much?
What was the last website that you were on before this?
Do you want to ask me something? Anything?
Am I sorry for doing this to you?

Lick it now, please.

Kobe Bryant Day...

A couple of my friends had a kid. This is not something friends of mine do for fun when bored. We don't all just sit around and fuck each other, placing bets on who's gonna be the one that gets the bigger belly first. Well, I guess that would be fun - all of it except for the actual birthing, responsibilty, and financial burdens. But these two friends of mine happened to be married. I visited the hospital and saw their baby. Samuel was little. He had little toes that looked like champagne grapes. I was acting out a story to both of them earlier and almost knocked over the baby's bed - so when they asked if I wanted to hold him, I said Hell No, because, if I'm knocking around things, then I sure as hell am not going to hold a kid. I did smell his head a couple of times, though. Why do we eventually lose that? I brought her a Snapple and an In Style magazine, and I brought him his favorite soda. I should've brought beer instead. I asked the father if he wanted to play poker, and he said that he did. Maybe he would've bet the little dude. Maybe not.

Anyway, I found out that the baby had a little ankle bracelet on that sounded an alarm if he was taken past a certain point without it being deactivated first. It looked like a miniature version of one of those parole anklet thingys. Babys now come with anti-theft devices? Do they have versions like the ones that they have in certain clothing stores that explode when you take them outside?

I was still staggering from the weight of this, by the time I got home.

Then I had sex and forgot all about it.