Fat Free Milk...

would like your help...

YOU

Need to tell me a story (or as many as you want) about a wild and crazy night involving drunkenness and a/or w/ members of the opposite sex. Tell me what you drank, what was the deal and why it was so memorable to you and - did you ever see the person afterwards?

Basically. Drunk story. Date or otherwise involving a guy or girl.

By responding to this, this means that you absolve all ownership of this particular embarrassing moment of your past for ME TO USE and to give you NO CREDIT. This might wind up in a story. I will become rich. You will die poor.

Thank you for your cooperation.

I'm Ready...



Dig?

William Shatner's Nights Will Always Be More Boring Than Mine Even Though He Lives In Outerspace...

I catch myself, sometimes, thumping my fist aginst the desk to a rythym that, if not produced from speakers come from within my own head - which is fine, just as long as the shit's catchy. People might think that I'm angry, though...which is okay because I'm a third angry all of the time anyway, with another third...cloudy-wishy-washy, and the other third...vacant.

I'm nodding my head up and down right now. The world is asleep. When I want to talk to people and to go out - everybody's always very, very, far away from me. And then, sometimes when I am out - all I get from everybody else is primal, fecal throwing. Which is better than nothing, but still stinks all the same.

For every minute that I'm bored out of my fucking mind tomorrow at work - I will trade that for two minutes worth of equal time when I get off and go bat-shit-crazy. I will be out and about because it will Thursday. I will be glad to not be working. I will be glad to think about...being glad.

I am the luckiest person in the whole world right now because I am me right here and you will never know what it's like because you suck, or are asleep. or grounded, or narrow-mindedly poo-headed, or on a spaceship, or a communist, or a Republican.

The great thing about tomorrow - besides not spell-checking this...

The GREATEST thing about tomorrow will be................
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I Blame
Frank Black,
Burl Ives
And The
Satisfyingly Dichotomous itunes...

for making me not further contribute to the great american novel. Instead of telling you about the further adventures of Jem, Scout and Boo Radley, instead of telling you about what Holden Caulfield did after the loony bin, instead of telling you about Payne and what he did after working for the Los Angeles Times, instead of telling you about what Tony, Chris, Kevin and Joel did after that horrible road trip, instead of telling you if the guy and girl's dating experiment worked or gave them further reason to avoid bars and alcohol, instead of telling you about Beezus killing Romona, instead of telling you about Hermione's muggle-born punk rock, drug-addicted children, instead of telling you about Chinaski snorting blow off of the breasts of Sophia Loren, instead of telling you about Ender Wiggin waking up and realizing it was all a dream right before his first visit from Col. Graff, instead of telling you about the same poison that killed Romeo, Juliet and Hamlet's mom, Instead of telling you about the penis ring of Sauron's, instead of telling you about Eliza Doolittle eventually getting Alzheimers, instead of telling you about The Old Man coming home and then going down to the local A&P and just buying an 8 oz. filet of shark, instead of telling you about Tom Sawyer writing under the pseudonym : Samuel Clemens, instead of telling you if Pennywise The Clown ever came back to the town of Derry, Maine, instead of telling you if the prince found the princess, instead of telling you if the bee found the honey, the fly found the shit, A found the Z, Ying found the Yang, if William The poker player found the Tell, if Norman found the Fell, and if the money inevitably made it back into Akbar the store owner's till.

Yes.
I Blame
Frank Black,
Burl Ives
And The
Satisfyingly Dichotomous itunes...

No Amount Of Looking Around The Room...

will provide enough inspiration to warrant me spending more than five minutes writing on this thing. Okay. That's it. More like 30 seconds.

Things That Make Me Happy In 2005 So Far...

Spider-Man Comics
Radiohead (still)
Remembering things that I've forgotten that I liked
ipods
Spider The Cat
Getting rid of stuff that used to be important to me - but is now...clutter
Getting drunk and shooting arrows in the backyard over with friends
Friends moving close
receiving books and skull head keychains in the mail
wearing ties to work. really? No. I'll scrap that.
shoot the moon
shut the box
singing out loud regardless if anybody's home
making my girlfriend laugh all of the time, even when she's tired and telling me to leave her alone and that she's trying to sleep
cleaning out my desk
visits from my sister
taking cruises
plants
ending this so that I can tell Chris on the phone about the Darth Vader mask that he's going to buy for a crapload of money because he's an even bigger nerd than I am...

Man...

I'm kind of nuts sometimes. I get in these moods where I decide to be bad and just start drinking through self-created bouts of madness. When I was playing poker with the guys the other night, I decided that I was totally bored and so I brought vodka. Ummm...hmmm...that's interesting. Vodka? I don't like vodka. When everybody asked me what I was drinking, I said, "Red Bull and Vodka". When they asked why I told them that I was bored. Hmphff. Okay. Bored. You're playing poker. Bored? Weird's more like it.

Yesterday was Bukowski's birthday so I decided to get really drunk. Made sense to me. It still makes sense to me, actually. Bukowski's birthday! I got pretty darn drunk too, I guess, In honor of ol' Hank Charles -

But----

I also did wake up this morning, forgetting that I had shaved my head down to stubble at my friend's house. I had a mohawk for a while too last night and I DO remember being bummed out that I couldn't keep it.

So. Now my head is cold.

I think I need to calm down when I get home. Watch a movie or something. Sort some comic books. Eat some sushi. Drink some water. Calm down.

This week isn't even half over yet
and I've already lost my money
and my friggin' hair.

Happy Birthday Hank!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Half Pepperoni, Half Baby's Breath And Some Sides Of Ranch Dressing Please...

So, if I, coming home from work late last night, considered getting the girlfriend flowers as a surprise - but opted instead to get her some frozen french bread pizzas - does this mean that I am totally unromantic or just that I know my girlfriend way too well?